#and I had to pretend like I wasn't incredibly turned on by him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lecsainz · 3 months

Note

OMGGGG!!!! 🩷🩵 Love your work! Can you do a Percy X (halfblood of your choice) reader and maybe affection headcannons? Like how he stares at you 24/7 and maybe him falling asleep on our shoulder and all that!!!!

BEAUTIFUL GIRL

parings: percy jackson x fem!reader

an: two weeks without a new episode, I can't take it anymore 😭😭😭

summary: the one where you and percy met at yancy academy, and what your relationship would be like.

( my last work for riodanverse || go to my main masterlist )

You met Percy at Yancy Academy, and well, you quickly became friends – best friends, to be precise, since your room was conveniently next to his.

When Grover arrived at the school, he became more than worried about finding two demigod kids together.

As you excelled in your studies – you LOVED studying – you decided to help Percy out. However, Percy always seemed too distracted, often catching him staring at you.

Percy looks at the notebook where you were scribbling math problems and realizes he hasn't paid attention to anything you were explaining for the past twenty minutes.

"So, um, how do you solve this math problem again?" He asks.

You point the pen at him with a stern expression. "Percy, we've been through this like ten times!"

Percy gazes at you with a mischievous smile on his lips because, by the gods, he finds you incredibly beautiful with the braid you decided to wear today.

"Sorry, got distracted. You look really nice today." Percy says, shrugging.

"Focus, Percy! We need to get through this." You roll your eyes, but your cheeks are flushed, and Percy still finds it adorable.

You throw the pen cap at Percy, lightly hitting him on the head when you realize he wasn't paying attention again.

"Ow! What was that for?" He puts his hand where the cap hit him and pretends to be in pain.

"For not paying attention! Now, let's get back to work." You stick out your tongue.

Laughing, Percy tries to throw the pen cap back at you, but you quickly dodge, and poor Grover ends up being the target.

You two became an inseparable duo, like shadows to each other, and constantly causing Grover massive headaches.

Percy would talk about you to his mom.

Percy hesitated for a moment before dialing the number. As his mother picked up on the other end, he launched into a torrent of words about you.

"Hey, Mom, you won't believe what happened today. So, there's this new girl, Y/N, and she's amazing. Seriously, she's the smartest person I know, and she's always helping me out with my studies. And she's got this incredible sense of humor. We're like a team, Mom, inseparable. I don't know how I'd get through the day without her."

Sally listened with a gentle smile on her face, recognizing the familiar signs of her son being captivated. She knew Percy well enough to notice the subtle shifts in his tone and enthusiasm.

"Percy, it sounds like you really enjoy spending time with this Y/N," Sally said, her voice warm and knowing.

"Yeah, Mom, it's like... I don't know. She's just different, you know? Everything feels better when she's around. I can't explain it."

Sally chuckled softly, recognizing the telltale signs of young love. "Percy, sweetheart, sounds like you might be developing feelings for this girl."

Percy stammered for a moment, realizing that his mother had caught on. "I, uh, Mom, we're just friends. Really good friends."

Sally's laughter echoed through the phone. "Alright, Percy. But remember, love has a way of sneaking up on you when you least expect it.”

When you first heard about blue food, you didn't believe Percy's words, leading to a heated argument. It all ended when Percy pulled out a pack of blue cookies from his backpack. To your surprise, they turned out to be the best cookies you'd ever tasted.

During one of your study sessions, Percy calling you a beautiful girl, and the nickname sticking because you blushed every time he called you that.

Percy only realized he liked you when they arrived at the camp and you wanted to help Percy defeat the Minotaur, but he wouldn't allow it because he had already lost his mother and couldn't bear to lose his girl.

He told Grover not to let you follow him and instructed him to take you safely to camp.

The air in the forest was thick with tension as Percy and you faced off against the looming figure of the Minotaur. Determination burned in your veins as you gripped your weapon tightly, ready to fight alongside Percy.

But before you could make a move, Percy's voice cut through the silence, firm and commanding. "Grover, take Y/N back to camp. Keep her safe," he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Your heart sank as you realized what he was saying. "Percy, I can help. We can fight this thing together," you protested, your voice trembling with emotion.

"I need you to stay safe, Y/N," Percy said, his tone unusually severe. "Grover will take you to camp. I can't lose you."

Tears welled up in your eyes, the raw emotion of the situation hitting you like a tidal wave. "I can't just stand by and do nothing while you face that monster alone."

Percy shook his head, a mixture of frustration and fear in his gaze. "Y/N. I can't risk losing you. Not after what happened to my mom."

A heavy silence settled between you two, the gravity of the situation sinking in. Percy cupped your face gently, his eyes searching yours. "I need you to trust me, okay? Grover will take care of you."

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you nodded reluctantly. "Just promise me you'll be safe, Percy."

He gave you a solemn look before pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. "I promise. Now go with Grover. I'll find you after this is over."

Grover approached, his expression mirroring the somber mood. "We should go, Y/N."

After that, you swore to yourself that the next time you saw Percy, you would tell him you liked him. That seemed like the smartest thing to do.

As Percy stirred awake, his eyes met yours, and a small smile played on his lips. "Hey, beautiful girl," he greeted, a newfound warmth in his tone.

You blushed at the endearing nickname he had given you, but concern soon took over. "I thought I was going to lose you," you admitted, holding a small cup of ambrosia-infused nectar.

His expression softened, his hand reaching for yours. "You're not getting rid of me that easily."

Relief washed over you, and you laughed, playfully nudging his shoulder. "Good. Because there's something I need to tell you."

Percy raised an eyebrow, curious. "What's that?"

He looked at you with curiosity, encouraging you to continue. With a deep breath, you confessed, "I... I really like you."

Percy's eyes lit up, a genuine smile spreading across his face. "You do?" he asked, as if surprised by the revelation.

You nodded, a shy smile gracing your lips. "Yeah, Percy, I really do."

"Well, beautiful girl, I think you're stuck with me now," he declared, a playful glint in his eyes. As you leaned in closer, he gently pulled you to lie beside him on the bed. When you rested your head against his chest, Percy winced in pain.

"Careful," he joked, "I just survived a Minotaur. Your head might be more dangerous than that."

You chuckled softly, and Percy couldn't help but smile despite the discomfort. "You know," he mused, "your laughter is my favorite sound in the whole world."

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assassinsblade · 5 months

Text

Forget Me Not | 5

It is your turn to experience guilt and regret, while Azriel takes some time to himself.

WC: 4.4k

Warnings: TW: SA, brief mentions of suicidal thoughts/ideations!!! Please do not read if this is triggering for you. Angst, feelings, we are all sad but we are taking a turn for the better!

a/n: All of the comments and responses to Part 4 were seriously incredible. I hope everyone has a wonderful holiday tomorrow if they celebrate!!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6

-------------------------------------

Azriel's shadows surrounded him before he could command them to do anything else. Darkness swallowed his vision, his chest, his heart, gods, he was dying wasn't he? Was this what dying felt like?

He felt like he couldn't breathe. Pain was searing through his chest as if a fiery sword was sticking from his ribcage, and he barely felt his knees crashing to the ground underneath him.

He didn't know where he had subconsciously winnowed to until he heard his brother's voice, filled with shock and confusion.

"Az?"

Hands were pushing his shoulders back, trying to get him to unfold from himself, to stop grasping his chest. His chest, his chest, his chest, it burned-

"Feyre, get Madja."

Azriel tried to shake his head, but he was so dizzy he couldn't tell if he made the movement or not. He vaguely heard Feyre's movements shuffle to a halt. Rhys must have stopped her at his attempt to say no.

"What happened?" Rhys questioned, voice strong despite the panic slowly making its way in.

Azriel was sobbing. He didn't know when he had started, but he knew he had broken. His own chokes and cries echoed in Rhys' office, his tears falling onto the cold marble floor beneath their knees. Pain laced across his skin from his fingernails digging into his own flesh, and he felt Rhys trying to pry the grip away.

"Kill me," Azriel sobbed. "Please, kill me. Do something, just make it stop-"

Rhys dove for his brother at the words, pulling him into a tight hug. The embrace did little to help with the overwhelming torture raging within the shadowsinger. He was going to die, he wanted to die.

He had never hated himself more, hated how it felt like his body was going to eat him alive if he took one more breath.

The constant memories shooting behind his eyes like poison: his mother mistreated by the Illyrian men while his hands burned, Mor left naked and alone in that forest with a sign punctured to her womb and him not arriving until hours into her pain, Rhys walking into a trap because he hadn’t seen it and hadn’t stopped it, Gwyn violated and tortured because he hadn’t been aware enough to spoil the plot or get there soon enough, and then you — your bloody body being carried in Cassian’s arms, clothes torn off, having been forgotten by him.

"Don't you dare say that." The male trying to keep him together spoke with such command, but the shadowsinger's pain persisted.

"I can't do this, Rhys. She-"

He couldn't stop crying, he couldn't stop hurting, he felt like he was screaming...

"Feyre," he heard Rhys call distantly. Everything was blurry, everything was awful. His head was pounding, his body was giving up on him, and then he felt delicate hands on his cheeks, a soothing feminine voice, and then nothing.

As darkness swallowed him whole, he saw only the glinting gold swimming inside his chest, reaching like a rope into darkness.

It was quiet for a bit. Safe, surrounded by nothing but shadows so much like his own, and the small golden light flickering inside of him. He would be content to stay there forever. To no longer live as the monster he’d become, to be able to pretend he was nothing, no one, just a fluid existence stretched through space. Like the embodiment of flying through the skies of Velaris, wings splayed wide and air crisp and free all around.

Unfortunately though, Azriel’s peace was short lived. Before he could truly bask in the quiet, he was being pulled out of his mind and back into the present.

Bright light hit his face, shining through the window of his bedroom at the House of Wind. His shadows immediately swarmed the opening, pulling at the curtains until he was once again draped in darkness.

He sighed and sat up, running his hands down his face. He felt overly fatigued, his entire body weighed down with guilt, self-hatred, and the words you had spoken to him.

He did let everyone he knew down. He already knew that, reminded himself of that every single day, but that didn't make it hurt any less coming from your lips.

Rhys, one of the many people he had failed, had not stopped staring at him. Azriel knew his brother was waiting for him to break the silence.

His voice sounded broken to his own ears, weak and cracking even when spoken in a low volume. “I don’t know what to say.”

He truly didn’t. What should he have said? Hey Rhys, thanks for tucking me in after I had a complete breakdown, you can leave now.

“You can start by explaining why you came to my office and begged me to kill you.”

Yeah, Rhys was not happy.

Azriel sighed, feeling his chest pinch at the memories. He wasn't happy either.

You’re no hero. You’re a joke.

Your hands are the ones hurting me.

That’s all you're good for: inflicting damage.

“Azriel.” Rhys interrupted his thoughts.

He swallowed, feeling himself tear up again. He hadn’t cried this much since Rhys went under the mountain.

“She’s my mate,” he finally spoke, voice quiet and chest cracking open at the confession.

Rhys didn’t even blink. Azriel couldn’t meet his gaze though.

“Who?”

Rhys knew who. Based on Azriel’s reaction to the information alone, he knew.

Azriel didn’t answer the question, knowing it was unnecessary. Instead, he gazed at his scarred hands resting in his lap and said, “I went to train, and she was already in there. The bond snapped before she even turned around.”

“Does she know?”

He shook his head, focusing on the sting in his arm. “She wouldn’t have missed if she did.”

He felt Rhys eyeing the slash against his bicep, already weaving itself back together. Then his friend studied the rest of Azriel's body language. The way his shoulders were curved in on himself, the way his fingers traced over the scars on his hands, the ghostly look in the male's hazel eyes despite them glistening with tears.

"What did she say?" Rhys ended up asking after his silent observations.

"Enough."

His brother didn't let Azriel brush him off though. "Whatever she said, she didn't mean it, Az."

Azriel scoffed. "Look into my mind, see how she looked at me, and then you try to tell me she didn't mean it."

"She is angry and grieving, and you are the only person available that she can blame and take it out on. Her anger," Rhys suddenly grabbed Azriel's arm, positioning it so he could nod to the reddened gash, "that anger, is because she cares. She's hurt because she loves you."

Azriel shook his arm out of his friend's grip. "It doesn't matter. I fucked up, and I can't take that back. The damage has been done, Rhys."

"I used to think that too." Violet eyes met his. "Feyre hated me, in case you forgot."

Azriel didn't budge, so Rhys continued. "I know what you're feeling right now. That it'd be alright if she hated you, as long as she's safe. But it still hurts, knowing she thinks poorly of you, and that feeling builds up. But your journey with her is not over. She is a forgiving person, you just need to give her grace while she heals. And you need to give yourself grace, because you're in a painful position too."

He nodded, letting a few tears fall. His palm automatically reached for his chest, rubbing it in an effort to soothe the ache there.

“How did you do it? How did you live with it hurting this bad? After Feyre said…”

Rhys sighed, letting out a small breathy laugh — a genuine one. “It wasn’t easy. I left for those days before Starfall, ignored her letters, sorted out my thoughts. Came to the conclusion that even if Feyre never loved me, I would always love her and I’d be happy to do so. And I have a family who I love dearly, who also loves me.”

The pointed look he gave Azriel was obvious, reminding him that his family was there and worried about him too. They had seen the way he’d turned into a shell of himself, barely sleeping in case you had a nightmare and needed him, barely eating or training, his entire reserve of energy being put into monitoring your safety and wellbeing. And he knew they cared, he really did.

Cassian had been trying to get Azriel back into the swing of training again, wanting him to express some of his heavy emotions in the ring, or at least talk to his brother while sparring and practicing. Instead, Azriel was seclusive and pulled the punches he threw the Illyrian’s way.

Rhys had given Azriel time off from his missions, delegating the work to those under the spymaster to take some weight off of Azriel’s shoulders for a bit. Azriel had at first refused but had given in when Rhys had pointed out that time and attention needed to be focused at home anyway, what with the Illyrians’ growing mistrust of Cassian, Azriel, and himself, the threat of an uprising ever present.

But now with what you had said…

“I think it’d be best if I went away for a bit.” His voice was quiet, resigned, lifeless to his own ears.

“By yourself?” Rhys asked, clearly not liking the idea.

He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. Just — I think some space from her would be good. You even said you needed that when Feyre had hurt you.”

His brother’s violet eyes softened with understanding. “You’re right. I did. But I do think this is a bit more complex. What if you went with Amren or Mor to see Jurian and Lucien? See what they have been up to for a bit? You can leave some of the work to them, but have something to distract you should you need it.”

Azriel was quiet as he considered, but Rhys cut in before he could agree too soon. “But you come back. And you come back within the month.”

Azriel nodded. “Okay,” he relented.

“Okay,” Rhys repeated. His hand clasped Azriel’s shoulder in support, giving his brother a meaningful look. “I know I sound like an asshole, but it will work out. I know it. You two are too special, in general and to each other for this not to work out.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to shut out the pain that came with his brother’s words.

He swallowed, composing himself before meeting his friend’s gaze with teary eyes of his own. “Tell Mor I’ll meet her on the border in an hour.”

-------------------------------------

You skipped training the next night, too emotionally drained to make it out of your room. Cassian hadn't come to find you, either. Maybe he had even heard of your argument with Azriel.

Instead of going to the training ring, you tried to read your books (pushing away the reminder that Azriel had gotten them for you), took some long baths, tried to write, and listened to music.

Nothing kept your mind distracted from what you had said to Azriel, though.

The instant relief that had coursed through your veins when the anger had seeped into the air, draining from where it had hardened in your chest and allowing you to feel lighter, changed over the course of the day into something just as volatile.

You felt guilty. So, insanely guilty.

You kept remembering the look on his face when you had mentioned Mor, Rhys, Gwyn, his mother…

The way his hands clenched and fiddled with themselves when you had told him you see them hurting you in your dreams.

The tears that streaked down his cheeks silently as you just kept on coming and coming, attacking and attacking.

And he had let you. He had stood there possibly from shock, guilt, care, and just let you tear into him without any retaliation.

You had never uttered words so cruel to someone.

And you hadn’t even meant them.

Sure, you had been so angry at him. You had felt so hurt and demeaned, that you wanted to do the same to him. But did you actually blame him for what had happened to his friends? Did he hold the responsibility for the entire world in his scarred hands?

Of course not. But you knew that he thought so. And you had used that against him.

Azriel had never meant for you to get hurt. You, on the other hand, had intentionally hurt him.

Did that not make you so much worse?

You cried yourself to sleep that next night, your actions sending you into a downward spiral of shame. Despite taking the tonic Madja had provided you for sleeping, you found yourself at the mercy of your guilt, your mind tormenting you with Azriel’s hurt and your own mistakes.

If you had known this dream would have taken a turn for the worse, creating a scenario that would haunt you even more than the memories of that night, you never would have closed your eyes.

It had started the same as the others: the snow, the alleyway, the blonde-haired male licking up your neck and reaching for your middle. This time though, when you brought the dagger down into the male’s neck, a familiar choking sound echoed into your ear.

Azriel.

The same noise that had escaped his lips after your weaponized words stabbed into him.

Then his hazel eyes met yours, the snow falling from Velaris’ night sky dusting his black hair. And there was so much pain, hurt, and betrayal in his gold and green irises that you felt sick.

“No-” you panicked, reaching out for him as the bright red blood poured down his neck and over your hands.

No, no, no. Not him. How could you have done this? You were hurting him, you were killing him.

Your hands moved quickly, pushing against the wound as sobs loudly slipped past your lips. "Azriel-" you started to say.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. His eyes tried to get your attention, but he was already weak, slipping through your hands and falling onto the pavement below.

When the dagger fell from his neck, you saw the charcoal-colored aggressive waves adorning the top of the hilt and nearly collapsed.

You had killed Azriel with his own weapon. The weapon he had lent to help you, you had taken and stabbed him in return. His support, his offer to make amends, his kind-hearted generosity toward you, turned around to tear into his lifeline.

You killed him.

And hurting him did not feel as good as you had imagined in that training ring, both then and now, snow falling onto his tan skin in the alleyway.

As you stared into his empty eyes, somehow still sparkling with the stars of Velaris, you couldn’t help but scream.

Waking from the nightmare was nearly as difficult as wading through it in your sleep. Your ears were ringing, throat sore, and mouth dry. You were so nauseous, your stomach gurgled as if it was warning you its contents could come up at any time.

You didn’t go to the library to read or run yourself another bath in an attempt to relax. Instead, you found yourself throwing the blankets off of yourself, still trying to catch your breath, and making your way hastily to Azriel’s door.

It seemed so similar to that first week after the assault, when you had sought out Cassian before relying on Azriel for a night. Only this time, as you stumbled through the hall, your only thought was on passing Cassian’s door and finding yourself in front of Azriel’s.

You felt so scared, so anxious, and for the first time in months it wasn’t for your own safety.

Your heart pounded in your chest as your toes padded down the cold floor. But it completely stopped when you noticed the difference in the House of Wind.

Azriel’s door, always left cracked with the light on since your first nightmare after the incident, was now closed, with nothing but black on the other side.

You nearly caved into yourself.

Who could blame him? You had been a terrible person. And despite what he had done to you, it was understandable if he never wanted to see or talk to you again.

Just the thought of him being in pain because of you behind that door…

You hesitantly stepped closer, bringing your fist up to the wood.

“I’m sorry,” he had whispered in your dream.

You knocked softly, waiting a few moments before calling out his name. When no response came, you couldn’t help the anxiety that coursed through you, bringing scared tears to your eyes.

Shaking on your toes a bit, you knocked again. Blood flashed across your mind, his lifeless eyes, his look of betrayal.

"Please," you whispered, calling out to him gently.

But you couldn't wait any longer. Your hands slowly twisted the doorknob, your mind not even thinking of the consequences of entering a spymaster's room unsolicited.

You would just see that he was alright and safe, and then you would go back to your room. Plus, his shadows would let him know you were entering, they would warn him of your presence and could push you out if need be.

At this thought, you suddenly noticed the lone shadow that had trailed you for months was no longer at your side. The darkness behind his door swallowed you whole at the realization. He was gone, done, and you along with him.

You spiraled further, pushing into the room and daring to look around.

It was empty. Darkness shaded the clean room, but there was no shadowsinger, no living presence occupying the space.

Was he on a mission? Did he leave without telling anyone?

His choking noise permeated through your mind again, and you found yourself becoming dizzy with panic and anxiety, the guilt and regret spreading so far into your gut you were sure it was physically damaging you.

Stumbling over to his bed, you collapsed onto it, first sitting before bringing your knees up to your chest and allowing yourself to seek out his warmth and scent in the duvet and sheets. He was okay, you told yourself. He was always okay.

But the lack of your shadow friend spoke volumes. He was done with you. Done trying to prove himself, done trying to be your friend. And it hurt just as bad now when he actively decided to leave you compared to when he did it unintentionally.

Because despite it all, you did love him. You had just become so hurt and destructive that you ruined yourself further in the process, striking out at him as collateral.

You buried yourself deeper into his covers, not even caring when your tears soaked into his pillow. And maybe you imagined the footsteps you heard outside Azriel’s door, the way Cassian’s door had opened and closed and a presence had hesitated outside of the shadowsinger’s room as if they were listening and contemplating.

You surely imagined Azriel coming home and allowing you to speak with him, and in these hopes you understood how he felt this whole time. The silence, the darkness, the guilt and self-hatred. And the never-ending fear that you had done something you could never repair. That you weren’t good enough or redeemable enough to repair.

The last image that crossed through your mind before your swollen eyes succumbed to sleep was Azriel’s face when he had seen you that first day in the kitchen with Rhys. His nervous and devastated but hopeful expression.

You hated yourself.

-------------------------------------

In the morning, Feyre paid you a visit.

She did not comment on you leaving Azriel’s room, but the look she gave you was observant.

The conversation had started out small with her asking how you were doing, checking in on your training progress, if you had been reading anything good lately, if you had tried the meal Cassian made last night for dinner.

Then it was silent, and she hesitated before steeling herself like the High Lady she was.

“Azriel left the other night. Whatever you had said to him, whatever had happened two nights ago, I’m not sure he deserved it.”

You didn’t want to ask about the state she had seen him in. You didn’t want to know how deep the damage you had dealt went, because if you pictured his hurt expression one more time, you thought you might actually shatter.

You stared down at your hands in disappointment and shame, gritting your teeth to stop yourself from crying. You weren’t the victim this time around; you didn’t deserve to cry. And your eyes hurt so bad from crying so much.

“I think you two should talk. Your relationship has become so destructive I’m not sure either of you will come out at the end. Talk.” She demanded, her voice firm.

You nodded in agreement, swallowing the lump in your throat down before asking what you had been wondering since last night. “Where did he go?”

“To the mortal lands with Mor. He needed some time.”

Of course. Of course he needed time, and you would give him that. But you needed him to know that you were at least sorry, because you had no idea when he would be ready to return.

“If I were to give you a letter for him, would you make sure he receives it?”

Feyre sighed, thinking about the consequences of the action, before finally softening and nodding. She understood the need to reach out after such an incident, and you noticed her eyes flicker as she doubtlessly thought back to when Rhys left for a bit before Starfall and ignored her own letters.

“Sure. But you must be kind.”

You nodded again, that pang of disappointment and shame flaring to life again in your chest, and you thought of all the things you needed and wanted to say to Azriel.

But when you actually went to put pen to paper later that night, you found yourself second-guessing everything.

You had gone too far in punishing him — for something he was not even completely to blame for — and he probably didn’t want to hear from you. You should let him breathe, give him time to think and unwind without your existence constantly ruining him.

But then you thought of him standing in the training ring, hurt, crying, alone, and your hands were moving.

Azriel, you started the letter. I know you probably don’t want to hear from me, but I think I would regret not sending this to you, not telling you everything you deserve to hear. And I don’t want to regret anything else.

First, I need to apologize. Profusely. You don’t need to forgive me or give me another second of your time, but I am begging you to know and understand that I did not mean a word I said the other night. I could name a thousand reasons why the words went past my lips, but they will never unspeak them. I will forever regret that night, more than any other night in my life.

Please know that even in the times when I am carried away by anger, when I am less than human, less than any of you deserve, I have always admired you. Sometimes I think that made the anger worse, twining together with the care I have for you until it became some kind of warped emotional weapon.

I do think you are a hero. And redeemable and brave and a savior. And I’m sorry for ever trying to put in your mind that you are anything but. You have saved me more times than I could mention in the size of this letter, just in the time I have known you. Please know that.

I have no right to ask, not after everything we have gone through the last few months, but when you are ready, I would really like to sit down and speak with you. About everything.

Maybe we can find a way forward. Or at least a way to exist together without any pain.

You don’t need to respond. I will be here, and I can wait as you’ve waited for me to be ready to talk.

Be safe. If not for me then for yourself and your family.

Then you stopped. Because how were you supposed to sign this off? You pictured his frown at reading the letter, at your words he no longer trusted or felt warmth from. You hated that frown, the sadness you had seen from him so much as of late.

In the meantime, you wrote, I will read the books you left me, continue to purchase those tart pastries from near the Rainbow, and find comfort in your bedroom light remaining on, if not just to remind me of your kindness.

I appreciate your help, even when you are not near. And then you signed your name.

You would wait for his response (or lack of) and for his return. And then you would have the chance to talk. You would be able to hear his own thoughts, emotions, apologies, and curses before letting out your own.

Strength was what you needed until then. The strength to self-reflect on the blame you had placed on him, the words you had thrown around so carelessly. Strength that would get you through the oncoming storm, the marching warriors coming for Cassian, Azriel, and Rhys. The Illyrians wishing to overthrow the high lord and his enforcers, coming to take them down in any way they could.

Their marching was coming, the stomps matching the pounding in your chest.

You’d be strong, and you would wait for him to return. You would hold your ground, dagger at your side and heart hesitantly ready to be displayed.

And maybe, if all went in your favor, you two could finally have that talk.

#acotar x reader #azriel angst #azriel x reader #azriel x you #acotar fic

1K notes · View notes

sunrizef1 · 1 month

Text

Jackie and Wilson

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!reader

Warnings: mostly fluff, angst depending on how invested you get

Word count: 2.3k

Authors note: Jackie and Wilson by hozier btw, not proofread, also written at like 2 am

Charles wasn't having a great time. He'd just DNF’d out of his home race and now he was drowning his sorrows in alcohol at some random bar. He had to pretend to be happy though, considering he was surrounded by friends and coworkers who actually were having a great time.

However by this point, most of them were too drunk to even remember he was there. He was busy nursing a beer slowly, simply surveying the crowded bar.

He's moving to leave the place when suddenly his attentions caught by a loud laugh of someone entering the bar. He glances up, his eyes catching on you and his breath might actually stop for a moment.

You were beautiful. Your loud laugh echoed across the room toward him, entrancing him and pulling him in. You're smiling at the friend next to you and he's feeling the strange need to be the one you're smiling at.

He follows your figure as you make your way toward the bartop he's sat at, your friend walking away to talk to someone else. You come to a stop stood next to him and all he can do is stare like an idiot. Your attentions stuck on the bartender as you order and he waits impatiently for the moment you'll turn your gaze to him.

You order a martini and sit down at the stool next to him and Charles finally shakes himself out of his trance to stop the bartender before he can walk too far away, “Here, for her drink.”

The bartender takes the cash out of Charles’ hand and slides your card back over to you, knowing enough not to argue with Charles over this. You raise your eyebrows at the man next to you, tilting your head slightly at his confidence.

“You buy a lot of girls drinks?” you ask him, a slight laugh lacing your words.

Charles smiles in response, shaking his head lightly, “Not really, just had to do it for you.”

You blush, looking down at the floor abashedly. You look back up as the bartender hands you your drink and you take a sip in hopes of hiding your embarrassed expression.

“Do you live around here?” Charles asks, noting the abscense of his native accent.

“No, just visiting a friend,” you shake your head, taking a large sip of your drink, “Are you from here? Sounds like you might be.”

Charles quickly realizes you have no idea who he is and he leans toward slightly to keep the conversation going, “Yeah, born and raised here.”

You hum, taking yet another sip of your drink before setting it down with a clink. You turn even farther to your side to face him, “Is being incredibly hot a common trait in Monaco? Or is that just a you thing?”

He laughs, caught off guard at your boldness. His eyes trace your lips as you take another drink, almost reaching the bottom of your glass, “Do you wanna get out of here and find out?”

You bite your lip with a smile, glancing over to your friend before looking back at him, “I’d love to…”

He realizes your prompting for his name and quickly fills in the blank, “Charles.”

You perk up and stand from your chair, downing the last dredges of your drink, “I’d love to, Charles.”

Charles thinks he could listen to the sound of his name leaving your lips on repeat for forever.

“What’s your biggest fear?” Your melodic voice rings out in the silence of Charles’ room. He turns over in the bed to face you, eyes searching through the darkness of the room to try and find your eyes.

“I don’t like spiders, really,” He responds after a few moments of thinking. He watches as you glance toward the ceiling, thinking about his answer, “What about you?”

You look back toward him again, searching for a response, “Commitment, maybe.”

It’s not a particularly funny response but Charles still huffs a laugh, turning to pull you to his chest. You shift closer, eyes fluttering closed and head lying still against his skin.

Sleep comes easy for the both of you that night.

Charles’ eyes search his living room frantically, searching each surface thoroughly. He can hear the sound of your footsteps approaching as he moves the pillows around on the couch, tossing them toward the floor carelessly.

“What are you looking for?” You ask him, pulling on one of the many hoodies you had left at his house over your head from its position on the couch.

“My phone, can’t find it,” he replies absently, eyes not leaving the couch cushions. He can hear you approach him and suddenly your comforting hand is on his back. He looks up to see you stood quietly, holding his phone up in one hand.

He smiles down at you, grasping the phone from your fingers and pulling it away gently. But with the way you’re looking at him he seems to forget whatever important thing he had to do on his phone in the first place.

“Where was it?” He hums, eyes locked down on yours below him as he tosses the phone on the couch next to him.

“Left in in bed this morning,” you respond, smile curling up on your lips as you bring both of your hands between the two of you.

You push him back onto the couch and he wraps his hands around your waist to pull you with him. You wraps your arms around his shoulders, pressing a kiss to his head.

“Glad you found it,” he doesn’t seem particularly glad about it now, more interested in you on top of him.

“You’re welcome, baby,” you respond and he takes a deep breath at the pet name, fingers rubbing small circles on your waist from their position on your hips.

You reach a hand up and run your hand through his messy hair, leaving Charles to admire your face as you focus on his hair.

The sun filters through the window, hitting your profile just right and Charles can’t help the large grin forming on his face.

He didn’t know a better feeling than your hands carding through his hair, soothing the previous craziness he had started to feel.

“Oh my god I think I saw him!” Charles snaps his head toward your outstretched hand, finger pointing toward a man walking suspiciously down the sidewalk.

Charles eases his foot off the gas pedal of your Lexus, letting the car roll down the road slowly.

“Are you sure that’s him?” Charles asks, narrowing his eyes in an attempt to see your friends boyfriend better.

Your friend had told you that she thought her boyfriend was cheating on her so here you and Charles were, riding around picking up clues. You had taken your Lexus since Charles’ car was way too identifiable.

“It’s definitely him, he’s got that giant stupid tattoo on his arm,” you reply, pulling out your phone to snap a few pictures of the man, “Can you follow him?”

Charles nods, turning the car slowly as the man turns a corner, making an attempt to move inconspicuously so the man doesn’t notice.

You start typing rapidly in your phone from the passengers seat, no doubt texting your friend who’s boyfriend you were currently following.

The two of you trail the man for a few blocks, watching as he suddenly walks into a restaurant on the corner.

“Park somewhere,” you call out, turning your head to watch him walk out to an outside table. Charles follows your order and parks the car strategically to where you can see his table through the front window of the car.

The man is alone when he sits down, not ordering anything and pulling out his phone to seemingly text someone.

It gets boring pretty quickly so you lean forward to connect your phone to the aux, deciding on some music to at least pass the time.

The opening notes of a Jackie Wilson song cut through the silence of the car and Charles glances toward the radio, completely unfamiliar with the song.

“What is this?” Charles asks over the sound of the American singers melodic voice. You look away from the man for a moment, a grin big on your face.

“Blues,” you laugh, bobbing along to the song. Charles laughs at your movements, watching as you dance happily, reveling in your joy.

The two of you let a few more songs play through, dancing around and laughing for the better part of an hour. Your attentions only diverted when you glance up and see a woman arriving at the man’s table.

You gasp, eyes widening as you pull your phone out of your pocket to snap a few pictures of the man and the woman at dinner in front of you.

“That dickhead!” you exclaim, turning down the volume of the radio in order to express your point.

Charles hums, eyes locked on the man and woman ahead, “He might not actually be cheating-”

Charles is interrupted by the couple sharing a kiss as the woman sits down and you and Charles lock eyes before bursting into laughter.

“I take it back,” Charles says as his laugh calms down, watching you pull your phone out for pictures once again. This time you catch a kiss and quickly send the picture off to your friend before sliding your phone away.

You seem content with your findings, choosing instead to turn your body and complain about the man you and Charles had been… stalking?

Charles smiles at the passionate look on your face as you defend your friend, putting the car in reverse to pull out of the parking lot.

As you drive home, Jackie Wilson blasts through the speakers, eventually causing the end to your rant as you start to sing along once again. Charles doesn’t know the music or even any of the lyrics but he does know that this is how he wishes to see you all the time, this happy.

When he envisioned your future together, a ring on your finger and two kids running around your house, he imagined you’d want to name them Jackie and Wilson and raise them on this music, rhythm and blues.

He might not be attached to the music or anything but watching how at peace you were made him think he’d grow attached to it pretty soon.

Charles loved racing, of course. But it was nice to escape sometimes. Escape from the stress and the pressures and the fears. Escape from the persistent fans and the expectant team. These days, that escape was you. You and your home in the middle of a field, black irises growing around the outside. Sunshine that shone perfectly down on the two of you as you lay side-by-side, hands intertwined between you.

“It’s so beautiful here,” Charles says, barely above a whisper as if he thought speaking too loud would make it all go away.

You hum, your free hand coming up to shield your eyes from the sun as you turn your gaze toward him, a smile drifting onto your perfect features.

“I love you,” you state, proudly, as if it was a simple fact that everyone would know, not an ounce of doubt in your words.

Charles grins, head rolling to the side to lock eyes with you. You blush under his eyes and a small laugh escapes your lips, lips that he so badly wanted to kiss in that moment.

“I love you too,” He eventually responds, his free hand creeping through the grass beside him, fingers wrapping around an iris before gently pulling the flower out of the ground.

Your cheeks heat even hotter as he says the words, your hand moving to cover your face. Charles pulls your hand away, moving your face toward him as he does. He slides the flower over your ear, brushing away a lone strand of grass as he does. His hand doesn’t stray from your face though. Instead, it rests against your cheek, pulling you in gently for a kiss.

You let him pull you, free hand flowing up his arm and over his shoulder to run through the hair at the nape of his neck.

Charles doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to love someone the way he loves you in this moment.

Images of your future flash through his mind once again, every milestone being pictures with you by his side. Kids, marriage, hopefully a championship. He only wanted it if you were by his side.

Charles’ eyes snap open at the sound of his door opening, watching as you slip through it before closing it gently behind you. No doubt off to go back to that friend you had mentioned you were visiting earlier that night at the bar.

He rubs the sleep out of his eyes that stay trained on his ceiling, thoughts running rampant through his sleep-addled brain. He slips out of the bed, moving to walk out on his balcony, hoping the fresh air will cool his heated face. He watches as your car moves away from the apartment, getting smaller and smaller as it moves down the road.

He doesn’t understand the sick feeling in his stomach as he watches you leave. He’d only known you for a few hours, the only thing he knew about you was your name and the fact you were leaving Monaco the next day. But he still felt like throwing up at the thought of a future between you that didn’t exist.

He eventually moves back into his room, trying his best to forget the random hook-up and fall back asleep. But as he moves to plug his phone in, he can’t help as he moves to play some music lowly through the device.

He finally gets his eyes to drift close, a Jackie Wilson song echoing quietly around the room.

—————————

Tags: @casperlikej @evie-119

#f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x female reader #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #charles leclerc x female reader #scheduled #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #Charles Leclerc x fem!reader #leclerc x reader

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auggieblogs · 8 months

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"Dude, I have a boyfriend"

Max Verstappen x fem!reader

Author's note: Hi, hi, turns out I actually enjoy writing and I am also half decent at it? So, hopefully, I'll be writing more in the future:))

P.S.- This one shot is inspired by a very cute TikTok I saw recently (this morning). AND I AM SO DOWN BAD FOR MAX, LORD HELP ME!

Max Verstappen had been immersed in his world of sim racing for hours. He'd been practising tirelessly, determined to stay at the top of his game even when he wasn't out on the real racetrack. Meanwhile, his girlfriend, Y/N, had been in their cosy bedroom, strumming her guitar softly and humming along to the music she was creating. The soft, warm glow of fairy lights hung above their bed and bathed the room in a comforting ambience. It was one of those peaceful moments they cherished, each lost in their own world yet connected by the simple fact that they were together. But now, finally, he was done. He pushed away from his simulator, feeling the relief of stretching his legs after sitting for so long.

He walked into their bedroom, a fond smile playing on his lips as he watched her fingers glide across the strings, of her vintage guitar, creating a beautiful melody that filled the room. He approached her with the intention of showering her with kisses, but as he leaned in, Y/N playfully turned her head, avoiding his advances.

"Dude, I have a boyfriend," she said with a mock-serious expression.

Max froze for a moment, his brow furrowing in confusion. Had he missed something? Then realization dawned, and he burst into laughter. "Wait, what?" he chuckled. "You're dating someone? Tell me more about this mysterious boyfriend of yours."

Y/N giggled, setting her guitar aside and giving Max a teasing look. "Well, he's a pretty awesome guy. He's got this incredible talent for racing, and he's cute, too."

Max raised an eyebrow, pretending to be offended. "Cute, huh? Sounds like someone I should meet."

Y/N leaned closer, closing the distance between them. "Oh, you've met him plenty of times, Max Verstappen."

Max's playful grin returned as he wrapped his arms around Y/N, pulling her close. "Well then, I think it's time for me to have a little talk with this boyfriend of yours."

Y/N laughed as Max leaned in, capturing her lips in a sweet, lingering kiss. Their lips moved together in perfect harmony. When they finally pulled away, their foreheads rested against each other.

"You know," Max said with a twinkle in his eye, "I'm going to fight that boyfriend of yours for stealing my girl."

Y/N's eyes softened as she cupped Max's cheek. "I love you, Max."

Max's heart swelled with love, and he pressed another gentle kiss to her lips. "I love you too, Y/N."

#formula 1 #f1 #max verstappen #red bull racing #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max imagine #f1 x y/n #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x y/n #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #max verstappen one shot

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guacamoleroll · 2 months

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ɪᴛ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴛᴀᴋᴇꜱ ᴀ ᴛᴀꜱᴛᴇ · ᴍᴜʟᴛɪᴘʟᴇ ʙꜱᴅ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ༉‧₊˚

featured. osamu dazai, chuuya nakahara, fyodor dostoevsky, nikolai gogol, sigma. content. f!reader. based on a request. mentions of alcohol (dazai), mentions of food, nicknames, slavic dishes. (minor) spoilers for stormbringer. translation at the end. not proofread.

author's note. this was an incredibly fun request! these men either shift between being incompetent, or not being reliant on others, so it took a sweet turn.

would you like to see more? join the taglist or comment under this post!

synopsis. the kitchen can be many things. a refuge from the toils of everyday life. a workshop for the creation of exquisite tastes. an assemblage of conversation over collaboration.

but one thing is certain—a well-endeavored meal can warm the coldest of hearts.

𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 arrived home late one evening, tromping through the doorway with the confidence only a drunken man could muster. It had been one of those nights, ones in which he was all too aware of the hollowness of his own heart. One of those days where everything was too loud, the ones where he picked up every minuscule detail, whether he wanted to or not. So, he had taken to a drink or two to fill a void, only to dip into another—before he knew it, the room was spinning, and he found himself kicked out of the bar.

But he still had you to return to, so he gathered any soberness left within him and clambered to place his trench coat and shoes in the spots you had set out for them. He was glad you didn't hear him walk in. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been granted the opportunity to take in the view. You pranced around the kitchen, a lifted twirl in your heel as you stirred ingredients in a saucepan, the domestic mess of powders against your skin.

You were all his. The reason he had a home to return to. His sanctuary from his own mind. He often fretted—though he pretended not to—about the idea of you being taken away from him, a fact that he had come to accept as his reality. But in these simple moments, he allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy that you encompassed for a moment longer.

His arms fit snug around your waist, his head like a puzzle piece against the curve of your shoulder. "Is that for me?"

You hummed, pressing a peck on his cheek as you leaned into him.

"You'll always have a meal to return home to, Osamu."

Yeah. He'd indulge for just a little longer.

𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 did not expect to pass out. He had returned home from a weeks-long mission overseas, anxiously awaiting the moment you reunited and ran into his arms—only for him to arrive early to an empty home. You were at work, and it wasn't his fault the couch clung to him like a vice! For a moment, he thought he had been dreaming of the fresh smell of savory pasta sauce and spices.

Wait. He can't dream.

He cracked open his eyes, his vision steadily straightening out, and trudged into the kitchen with a befuddled pout, his sight narrowing in on exactly what you had been up to.

"Babe."

"Chuuya!" you yelled, almost losing your grip on your spoon before you managed to catch it, clutching it close to your chest as you twisted the knob on the stove to place the heat at a simmer. "You scared me!"

His arms crossed as he leaned on the doorway. "What're you doing cooking in here by yourself?" he asked sternly, scanning the contents of the pot along with your face. If you didn't know any better, you'd assume he was mad. But you did know better, catching onto the subtle tilt of his brow, narrowed in simultaneous amusement and disappointment. Cooking was often a partnered endeavor.

You couldn't resist laughter, cupping his cheek as if comforting an upset child. "You've had a long week, and you looked so peaceful lying there. I couldn't bring myself to disturb you."

He would've been quick to argue—you could wake him anytime, no matter the circumstance—but a thought overwhelmed him and kept his mouth at bay. You had done something for him, not with anything to gain, but simply because you cared. He was used to it happening the other way around, but this. . .this felt nice.

So, he relented, his ginger locks tickling your skin as he tucked his face into your neck with a sigh. "Thank you, baby."

𝐅𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑 had been busy preparing the next phase of his plans, though you supposed he was always busy—too busy to take care of his own basic needs, that was for sure. He was always sorting through different data, exploring multiple angles to achieve his goals.

With the many tasks flooding his brain, he hardly had time to abandon his screens. The skin of his thumb had worn from his subconscious biting habit as he looked over another spreadsheet of banking information, his hands about to slide over the keys yet again.

The scent of stroganoff stirred him from his trance. His eyes shifted to find a steaming plate of the delectable dish sitting next to him on the desk. And he finally registered the firm hand propped against his shoulder, with you looking upon him from above with a sweet but knowing smile.

"Eat."

He wouldn't have customarily taken kindly to such a harsh demand, but he bent to the stern look of your gaze, one that hid behind it a level of care he ravenously craved. You worried for him, not in the same fashion as his so-called "friends," but with the genuine desire to see him thrive, no matter the circumstance.

So, the demon allowed himself a momentary reprieve, kissing a smile into your hand before taking a bite of the dish.

"Delicious, as always, моя милая."

𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐈 had practically burst through the door, prepared to recount the travesties and trials of his day. That was until he caught onto the unmistakable scent of savory pirozhki filling. He followed his nose like a bloodhound, the smell creating a distinct path into the kitchen, where you stood, unaware of the man behind you as you mixed spices into a pan.

"What'cha cooking, dove?" His breath bristled against your ear as he sprung up next to you, using his ability with a shit-eating grin. Your expression mirrored his own, used to the stint of your lover's sudden appearances.

"I found some old Ukrainian recipes online and wanted to try them out." You held out a spoon, and he bit into the filling without a second thought—a mistake. He clutched his throat as his eyes watered, realizing it was too hot for consumption far too late. He finally managed to choke it down, releasing a loud whew!

"Trying to kill me so soon! How cruel!" he exclaimed.

Your laughter roared throughout your home, a shaking hand rubbing his back as you wiped tears from your eyes with the other. "Is it good?"

He brought a finger up to stroke his non-existent beard, humming a quick tune. "Hmm, perhaps a cup of chili powder."

"Коля," you deadpanned. "That's too much."

He sighed, a pout settled on his lips, but you caught the hand sneaking into the interior of his overcoat, snatching his wrist before he poured something irreversible into your dish. He cackled, attempting to pull away as you chased him around the kitchen island.

For a moment, it felt as if you were the only two people in the world—free of restraint. He could feel the bonds tied around him loosen. He could reach out, taste that sensation of freedom for himself. A freedom he had always found in you.

𝐒𝐈𝐆𝐌𝐀 had arrived back to his section of the Sky Casino earlier than he expected, having a strange lack of paperwork. But he simply decided to take it as a sign that he had been doing good work, and ignored the anxious feelings that always sprung from not having anything to do.

"I'm home—!" he called, but was stopped in the entryway by a sweet aroma. It was intoxicating, and he couldn't resist the temptation to lurk into the kitchen.

"Welcome home, honey!" you called back, your voice echoing down the hallway. He stripped himself of his coat, leaving it folded on one of the benches before he trekked across the threshold, a curious shift in his furrowed brow.

You were baking cookies, fluffy chocolate-chip cookies. He couldn't resist the smile on his face, even if he wanted to, nor could he ignore the bubbling warmth in his heart. But he couldn't help his confusion.

"Cookies?" he asked, dipping his finger into a batch of dough before he popped it into his mouth. "What's the occasion?"

You swiped at him with a flour-coated hand before dusting the rest of it off on a towel. "You've been busy lately, so I wanted to make you something sweet," you stated as if it were the simplest thing. But those few simple words took him aback.

You cooked for him. No one had ever done that before, not without being an employee or attempting to manipulate him—or both. And in a matter of seconds, only enough to let in a sweep of hot air from the oven to warm his skin, he realized something that had long remained empty had been filled. He felt whole.

"Sigma!" you exclaimed, and he realized that he had tears streaming down his face. The look of concern drawn through your strained lips, your furrowed brow, and your shifting eyes only further set in his new reality—he had his family. He had found his home.

"I'm okay, love. Just. . .thank you."

моя милая = my dear коля = kolya

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @lovedazai @osameowdazai @ruru-kiss @ishqani @zyilas @lovesick-fairy @fedyascoffin @squigglewigglewoo @kelperspelt @miloofc @s1eepybunny @dazaisms @deepseafragments @ajaxism @himikoslove @little-miss-chaoss @justcallmesakira @sillyspookycat @aureatchi @mxxny-lupin @emyyy007 @betweensinners

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ginevrapng · 4 months

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𝐈'𝐌 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃

pairing: fwb!james x reader

word count: 1.5k words

warnings and contents: for my friends with benefits james there is no smut asdfghjkl, hurt, jealousy, FLUFF

you're sitting in the great hall eating breakfast and you spot james across the hall with all the other gryffindors. you're unable to stop your lip quirk upwards as you hear his boisterous laugh, which you guess is due to some joke or prank he's retelling.

your small smile drops as you see lily evans walk up the marauders. you've never had a problem with her, she is a popular gryffindor that is friendly and works well to get top marks but the way she's walking up to the marauders, looking at james determined and with a mission, fills you with slight dread. if you were completely honest you felt she spent more time with james then necessary, especially considering how they've got their own friends and how many times she turned him down in the past.

the hall is already pretty quiet due to everyone already have eaten and a lot of people stop their conversations or lower their voices as they see lily go up to james. everyone in every house knows that's irregular. for the previous years of hogwarts james followed lily everywhere like a lost puppy always asking her out and coming up to her but he had stopped. no one knew why. it was because of you.

because the hall became so silent you heard what evans asked james and you wished the hall was louder, you wished you didn't hear, you wish you were somewhere else, anywhere else, you started to become sick as she asked james if he's free this weekend to go to hogsmeade. "i don't know, i think remus has to study but i know sirius and peter are free too. are all the other girls going?" at that moment it's hard to tell if he's actually oblivious or if he knows exactly what she's asking him but he's choosing not to answer. he has a smile on his face but even from a distance it looks a bit forced to you.

if you were anyone else you would lean to the fact he's being oblivious but you're not anyone, people always underestimate james and you have a feeling james knows exactly what she's actually asking but for some reason he's pretending that he has no clue what she means but you don't know why he'd do that. james is kind and wouldn't want to embarrass someone so publicly but at the same time you're unsure of why he'd be so sure of turning her down but the fact that he is does makes you incredibly happy, you won't tell him that though.

"oh, i don't actually know what the girls are doing. i meant just us two. like on a date?" lily asks him, not wavering at all even with what james has previously said.

james sighs under his breath. "i've got things to do, you should go with someone else."

"what about another weekend?" lily asks, hopeful and you don't blame her for that, anyone would be hopeful asking out someone who in the past asked them out every other day.

"lily, i'm sorry if i'm hurting your feelings but i don't want to go on a date with you," he tells her and you can see that he's trying to be as nice as he can be in a situation like this. no one caught on to the fact that james said that he's only sorry that he's hurt her feelings, he's not sorry for not wanting to date her though, like it's not even an option on my mind, he's not entertaining the thought about going on a date with her, you don't catch on, lily doesn't, the marauders don't, no one does.

everyone is stunned, they thought for sure he'd say yes, he has been pining after her for so long and most people just thought he started playing hard to get, giving her some distance until she recognises how much she misses him but that wasn't true at all. lily never crosses his mind anymore, why would she? he has you. you're all he thinks about. yeah at one point he fancied lily but he loves you.

after a couple beats lily replies with an, "oh, alright then. i guess i'll see you in the common room." this time it's lily that forces a smile. james doesn't respond. she has just been rejected and it's making her feel dejected, not only does james not want to go on a date with her but he doesn't want to hang out with her either. the whole time she thought this was some ploy from james to get her attention but she realised she was wrong. he has no interest in her at all.

as soon as lily's out of earshot and going out of the great hall you hear the loud voices of james' friends. "WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT PRONGS? DON'T YOU WANT LILY ANYMORE?"

"that was mean james, you didn't have to reject her in front of everyone."

"YOU DON'T WANT EVANS? I CAN'T BELIEVE IT. I NEVER THOUGHT THIS DAY WOULD COME. CAN I GO FOR HER?"

"i've got to say i'm surprised to prongs, i never thought you'd shut lily down like that. she really does like you and if this is some trick to get her to like you more, don't do it. she talks about you a lot."

james interrupts his friends knowing this could go on all morning and knowing that you're definitely hearing all this, worried you might be getting the wrong idea. "you can go for her pads, it's none of my business." they all look even more shocked as they hear this but he carries on, "i have no interest in lily whatsoever, yes i used to but i moved on from that. i didn't try to be mean peter but she wasn't taking a hint, i kept trying to tell her no and to let her down gently and moony honestly you shouldn't be surprised if anything it's more surprising that this hasn't happened sooner, me and lily have absolutely nothing in common and we can barely hold a conversation together that last more than ten minutes."

they're all rendered speechless at james as they realise he is 100 percent serious about this. no matter if lily chases james just like he chased her his answer will always be the same, no.

in james' eyes lily doesn't hold a candle to you.

he flicks his eye to where you're sitting and you briefly make eye contact. james was feeling in a bit of a negative mood after what happened but that immediately changed when he glances at you to see that you're already looking at him. you see a stupid grin appear on his face, uncontrolled and automatic, you quickly look down knowing that you've been caught watching him. as you're looking down you smile at the whole situation. james told lily no, and he said it so certain like nothing could change his mind. that absolutely stopped the sicky feeling you had. no one would notice you smiling as you're looking away from everyone but james knew that's what you'd be doing.

james wants to grab your face and lift it up so you're looking at each other again, he already misses your face and the colours of your eyes and it's only been a second since you've looked away from him. he wants to see your bashful smile as you try to look away from him again but he'll just place hundreds of kisses all over your face instead. he wants to desperately tell you that lily doesn't mean anything to him, you have gotten jealous on occasion due to lily even if you deny it, hopefully this might help. he wants to tell you that there's nothing to be jealous about. although you both know that he'll likely tease you about how you was "staring" at him the whole time when he turned down lily.

"what the fuck are you grinning about james?" remus asks, he seems the most annoyed with james about how he handled the situation, remus and lily are study buddies so they are actually good friends and he's known for awhile how lily has felt about james he's just always thought james still feels the same way, he thought it was mutual.

james snaps out off his thoughts of you, not wanting the marauders to question him about you. "nothing important," james replies, not looking back at you.

he hopes that he'll have the chance to talk to you today, even if it's for five minutes. maybe you'll talk about your plans for the weekend and you can try and find time to get together, maybe you'll tease him and say lily invited you to hogsmeade while you were at dinner.

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binsito · 10 months

Text

car sex with skz!

warning: some (if not all) include aspects of exhibitionism/voyeurism and semi public sex, unprotected sex and just horny thoughts bc i am a denegerate! do not read if uncomfortable !

bangchan: your sweet college boyfriend chan had just won a very important football game and he was high off adrenaline. you were his little cheerleader the entire game and now it was time for him to take you back home after such a big night. however, tonight you might get in trouble with your folks over your curfew. chan had pulled over and taken you to the back of his truck to fuck you into the seats, jersey still on because you thought he looked so sexy in his uniform. your hand on the window for support as he took you from behind and gripped your waist tightly. windows fogging as he panted, muscles tensing while he guided your hips. his car shaking with every snap of his hips. he'd leave your ass bruised from all the squeezing and spanking, he'd even lean over you to nip at your shoulder playfully, grinning into your skin because he knew your parents had no clue what you were up to.

lee know: halfway into the trip you two were taken, he had unbuckled his pants and pulled his cock out "take care of this" he mumbled nonchalantly, eyes on the road, acting as if he didn't just ask you to do something so naughty.

you reached for his cock shyly, giving him a few pumps before leaning over. sucking on the tip gently and humming. he had since turned off the radio because he preferred to hear you sucking his cock instead, real music to his ears. and he is such a meanie, pushing your head down and holding it still while you gagged, chuckling and claiming he only did it because there was a car next to him who might've seen (it was an absolute lie). of course you knew better than to believe him, but you pretended to be oblivious, knowing damn well that minho enjoyed making you struggle on his cock.

changbin: he was sick of your teasing at the gym, watching as some guys approached you to help with your form while he was at a different machine than you. you were purposely acting clueless and shy, glancing over at changbin with a sick little smile. once he was done with his final rep, he tugged you out of the gym and back to the car, folding your legs over your chest in the back seat. he chuckled when he saw how wet you were, a small patch forming on your shorts. you gripped on to his biceps when he pushed inside, making you take his full length without warning, hoping the guys from earlier would hear how you moaned for him, how he relentlessly he pounded you. and when he sees them leave the gym, his cock grows incredibly stiff, smirking when he sees how much it turns you on too. "you like putting on a show don't you baby?.."

hyunjin: he had just taken you out to a nice dinner, the dress that clung to your body was driving him crazy. too much cleavage for him to concentrate on anything other than your tits. and you notice that after a few glasses of wine, he becomes shameless. paying the bill and pulling you out of that damn restaurant hastily to take you back to the car. his kisses hungry as he pulled you into his lap on the driver's seat, he tried turning on the car to drive back home but he wasn't able to hold himself back. hitching your dress up, panties aside as he slipped inside with a groan, laughing when you had accidentally honked his car. it'll happen a couple more times until he finally kicks back the seat and lets you take the lead, riding him slowly just to hear his pretty whimpers.

han: han jisung just cannot keep his hands to himself. you were in the car with your friends on the way to a festival. the car was packed, music playing, people chattering and jisung just thought it would be the perfect time to tell you he was hard. you two were in the very backseat of the van and you protested, asking if he could wait until you were alone but he just gave you dumb puppy eyes. if your friends found out he was playing with your clit in the backseat, how you were pumping his cock, pretending to drop something so you could give him a lick or a suck, you would be humiliated. but the risk factor was feeling way too good for you to care at the moment. and jisung would lie straight through his teeth, telling everyone you were tired when you laid on his chest, burying your face in his neck as his arms came around to hold you in place. his cock forced its way into your wet cunt, twitching and leaking inside of you. he was dying to make you bounce but cockwarming would have to suffice for now.

felix: he got a big car specifically for this! if the back seats are folded down, he's able to fit a full size bed back there comfortably. at first it was a cute little idea so he could go off roading or camping with you. you wouldn't have to worry about tents or bugs and could snuggle in his car, but once you two actually planned a trip, he was more excited to make love with you in the great outdoors. after a long day of being in the sun, you two unwinded and curled up together. he became handsy quickly, pulling you on top of him and patting your ass playfully

"isn't this such a nice car to have sex in? hmm?.. i think so" he teases and of course you gave in to his little game. he even put on some soft music while you rode him, his hands coming up to cup your breasts as he breathed out shakily. he was definitely going to plan more trips like this.

seungmin: he's on the phone while he drives. his boss on the car's speaker telling him about the deadlines and submittals he needed to complete. he hums in approval casually while his boss asks him if he understands something. all this while his fingers are working inside your cunt. you having to stay quiet so his boss wouldn't hear your pathetic whimpers. and seungmin was setting such a painful pace, not picking it up, causing you to try and grind into his fingers faster which only caused him to pull away. licking his fingers clean while his boss asked him if he had any questions.

"no sir, i understand" he says as he leads his hand back down to pinch your clit harshly, a pinch that almost makes you cry out in pain but you knew you had to take it and not make any noise or the punishment later would be much worse.

jeongin: his car is parked in the driveway and you thank god its the middle of the night, everyone should be fast asleep. he has you over the hood of his car, his face between your legs as you slicks you up with his tongue. he wanted you dripping before he sunk deep inside you. he was supposed to drop you off at your apartment before he started kissing you, slowly turning hungrier and hungrier. you were about to get into his backseat but he shook his head, telling you he wanted you on top of his car instead. his car rocking rhythmically to his thrusts, you wrapping your legs around his waist to prevent him from pulling out. the idea of someone catching you turning you on more than you could ever imagine. and you cum embarrassingly hard over him, stifling your moans by biting into his shirt. the mess you left on his car was a token of how good he had taken care of you.

please refrain from reposting, modifying, translating, copying or stealing my work. - © binsito

#binsito #skz smut #stray kids smut #skz hard thoughts #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader smut #stray kids x reader smut #skz imagines #skz smut imagines #stray kids imagines #stray kids smut imagines

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yawnderu · 6 months

Text

K-9 — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader | Chapter III

Sick as a dog, and just as vicious.

1 2 3 4 5

You work magic with your hands

The human body is able to withstand extreme damage.

"Medic!" Price's voice boomed across base, heavy footsteps following right after. The door slammed open before you could even get up, Gaz and Simon carrying a bloodied Soap. They set him down on the medical bed and you got up, rushing to them and examining the damage.

It's incredible, really, how the human body can withstand extreme conditions and stay resilient, such as a gunshot that had blood leaking out of Johnny's head like a faucet.

"Out. With me, Simon." You bark out orders and the men obey, Price patting your shoulder twice, the look in his eyes saying much more than words. Fix him.

"Apply pressure on the wound." Simon nods his head, quickly discarding his skull gloves as his bare hands apply pressure on Johnny's chest to limit the blood loss. You felt a weak pulse earlier, yet the sound of the EKG machine as soon as you hook him up served as reassurance. You immediately put on your gloves, not bothering to hook him up to an IV to avoid wasting time. His heartbeat is weak, but he's still here.

Your hands get to work immediately as Simon begins to treat the wound on Johnny's chest, a much simpler injury than the bullet in his head. You bring the light closer to his head, able to make out the familiar glint of the bullet encrusted in his brain.

Twelve hours. That's how long it took to complete surgery on Johnny to remove the bullet in his head and stabilize him. He's a lucky motherfucker; the base of his brain and spinal cord being completely untouched, allowing him to be part of the 10% of people who have survived a headshot.

Your knees give out right after you make sure Johnny is all covered up, exhaustion and stress along with the disappearing adrenaline finally catching up to you. Strong arms wrap around your torso to prevent you from falling— Simon, who refused to leave your office, staying awake those twelve hours in case his help was needed.

"With you, lass." He reminds you, helping you stand up and guiding you to your chair, crouching down to get a better look at you.

"Need a cuppa?" He asked gently, the back of his hand making contact with your forehead to check for your temperature.

"Fucking brits..." You grumble, tired eyes looking down at him, the way his gaze softens and the corners of his mouth tilt up into a small smile, a deep laugh escaping out of his lips for a second.

"Some coffee?" You nod your head, hands going under your glasses to gently rub your eyes as you struggle to stay awake. He gets up, hand on your shoulder squeezing softly to make you look up at him.

"I'll go tell that lot Johnny made it, think you can stay awake until they're here?" His words had hints of teasing despite the concern in his eyes, only turning away once you nodded your head. You got up from the chair, walking over to the medical bed and looking at Johnny's unconscious body. His heart beat was stable, at the very least.

"I miss you, Johnny." Your hand reaches out to hold his, squeezing softly before you bring it to your lips and plant a soft kiss on his knuckles, slowly putting his hand back on his stomach. As annoying as he can be, he feels like a younger brother, someone you'd lay down your own life for with no hesitation, though that secretly goes for the rest of the team.

You take a step back when you hear footsteps approaching, pretending to fix the new IV injected to him.

"Doc." Price greets, walking over to you and looking down at Johhny. Bruised and bloody, but alive.

"Knew I made the right choice with you." His heavy hand pats your shoulder, managing to offer you a smile despite all the stress he was in, not knowing whether or not one of his boys was going to make it.

"I'm honored, Captain." He could hear the appreciation under the layer of sarcasm.

"I don't know when he's going to wake up, but there wasn't any damage on the frontal lobe or top of the brain, so probably not gonna have brain damage either... not that it'd make much of a difference." You drift off, eyebrows furrowing slightly as you think back on the twelve hours that just passed, the deep chuckle escaping the captain turning your attention back to him.

"Good. Go rest, Gaz and I will take turns watching over him." You simply nod, turning away to leave and patting his arm gently as you walk past. A small smirk sets on your lips when you feel the muscle, quickly leaving the office and going to your quarters. You barely manage to remove the bloodstained white coat before you collapse in bed, any thoughts about what happened and the coffee Simon was making for you completely forgotten as you finally drift off to sleep.

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forever-rogue · 5 months

Note

Hi! If you’re taking requests then can I please ask for you to write a Joel x Reader one where Joel and Reader have been dating for a long time and are now finally happily living in Jackson (with Ellie), and it was all going fine until Joel’s PTSD is randomly triggered and he accidentally hurts Reader when she touches him as a way to check on him and offer him comfort like she normally would do during one of his panic attacks?

Like maybe they’re at a family bbq (with Tommy and his wife) or the bar or even at their own home when something — whether it be a certain sound, smell, word, etc. — triggers him to the point where he is totally out of it and gets startled when Reader touches him, causing him to slightly hurt her by grabbing her wrist or whatnot because he mistakes her as a threat. Once he snaps out of his PTSD episode, he immediately feels horrible and regretful despite how much Reader tries to assure him that she’s okay and it wasn’t his fault. But it’s not enough; he starts to distant himself out of fear that he’d potentially hurt her again and out of fear that he’d finally done something enough that’ll make her want to leave him. Reader catches on though and then does her best to make Joel realize that she doesn’t blame him for what happened, she’ll always be there for him — through the good, bad, and ugly —, and she’ll never leave him because he’s the love of her life. Just basically a whole lot of hurt and comfort (with a hint of angst and fluff) lol.

(Ah, I’m so sorry that this ended up being such an annoyingly long and detailed ask! I was struggling with how to express my idea in words, and just ended up rambling… I hope it’s okay! 😭 Please feel free to change anything — you’re incredibly talented, so I completely trust your wherever your creativity takes you if you choose to write this).

Anyway! Thank you so much for writing and sharing all of your stories — your writing is truly outstanding and really just your account as a whole is one of my absolute favorites! 🫶🏻

AN | Please, this is so cute but sad, but there’s also a happy ending 💕

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language, Mentions of PTSD

Word Count | 2.8k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Think you made enough food?” you felt Joel’s arm at the small of your back as you set up the desserts you had made. You turned to him and pretended to huff before playfully swatting his hand away, “I think you’ve got enough for the whole of Jackson.”

“I never hear you complaining, Joel Miller,” you grabbed one of the chocolate cookies you’d made and took a bite before offering half to him. He playfully bit it out of your hand, causing you to giggle at him, “no manners, Mr. Miller. None at all!”

“I,” he mumbled through a mouth of cookie, “am a perfect gentleman, darlin’.”

“You’re lucky I love you,” you uncovered the rest of the baked goods you’d prepared and marveled at your handiwork, “this is a family barbeque but you know that basically means everyone will be here since we’re all basically one big, weird family. Hence, I made plenty.”

“What’s a smart woman like you doing with a fool like me?” he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you in a for a sweet kiss, practically beaming when you pulled back, “baby.”

"Don't baby me, Miller," you planted a playful, sloppy kiss on his cheek, "go on and help your brother with the barbecue so we can actually eat."

"Fine," he clutched at his heart as he scoffed before making his way over to Tommy. You couldn't help but watch him go, shaking your head in amusement. This man.

The world might have been different from how it once used to be, but one of the things that never changed was the love of fireworks. Jimmy and Sandra had somehow managed to come up with a cache of them on one of their last trips out of Jackson.

Naturally, the brilliant idea that they could be used at the barbecue was proposed and it wasn't hard to convince the younger Miller brother to go ahead with it. Under controlled circumstances, it would all be fine.

And realistically it should have been fine…you had no reason to think that it wouldn't be. But life didn't seem to agree with you and had a completely different idea.

You were standing with Ellie, your arms wrapped around her shoulders and you hugged onto her, waiting to see all the pretty fireworks. It hit you then and there - Ellie had never seen fireworks before! The idea in and of itself seemed wild.

Her entire face was lit up from her big smile and the sparkling lights as the two of you watched the ones Tommy had set off.

"Pretty cool, huh?" You pressed a kiss to the top of her head before realizing that something, or someone rather, was missing, "I'm going to go and find Joel. I'll be right back!"

Ellie was so distracted that she didn't even take much note of you leaving. It only took a few minutes before you found him near the back of the house, picking at something from one of the tables, or so you thought anyway.

"Babe?" You weren't sure if he could hear you over the clambering of the crowd and the fireworks; he didn't turn around. You walked closer to him and reached for him, "Joel?"

And then it happened all at once; he turned around and grabbed your wrist, twisting your arm at a painful angle and causing you to cry out. His eyes were dark but there was nothing there, just an empty hollowness.

“Joel!” you tried to pull out of his tight grip but that only made things more painful. He wasn’t letting go and you didn’t know what to do - he clearly wasn’t him right now. You struggled with him for a few moments before you heard someone running up and yelling at Joel to stop.

You looked up and felt a wave of relief wash over your body when you realized it was Tommy. If there was anyone that could help in this situation, it would be him. Tommy managed to pry Joel’s hands off you, the sheer force causing you to stumble backwards and fall onto your butt.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Tommy’s hands were on Joel’s shoulders as he tried to get him to snap out of his trance. You’d never seen him like this and it was as scary as it was heartbreaking. You didn’t fully know what was going on but you had a fairly good guess, “Joel, this isn’t real, it’s just a memory. You’re okay, you’re safe, you’re at home with us.”

That seemed to quell him even if it was the slightest bit and he shook his head, almost as if he was trying to shake whatever was going on off.

“Breathe in and out slowly,” Tommy had a calming effect on your boyfriend who seemed to relax, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly, “look around, we’re at home, we’re safe.”

Tommy took a few steps back and looked at you, an apologetic expression on his face. You swallowed the lump in your throat and as he held out his hand to help you to up and to your feet. Once you were back up, you looked over at Joel to find looking between you and Tommy,

“Joel?” your voice almost cracked as you subconsciously at your sore wrist and sore. His eyes darted to the sore area that was already red and starting to swell.

His jaw clenched as he let out a long sigh, hanging in head in exhaustion and shame, “I’m…I’m okay.”

Tommy hesitated for a moment before gently wrapping an arm around your shoulder, “let me take you and Ellie home.”

“But-”

“Please?” he asked softly, offering you a pointed look. You realized what he was trying to convey and nodded before letting him lead you away, “I’ll be right back, big brother.”

You cast one last look at Joel but he wouldn’t meet your eyes. Your heart broke a little bit, but you kept repeating to yourself that everything would be alright. This was just a small bump in the road.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

When you woke up the following morning, you found yourself alone in bed, Joel’s side still made up and cold. He hadn’t come to bed. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes before putting on your slippers and padding down the hall. You poked your head into Ellie’s bedroom and found the girl fast asleep still; at least she was getting some rest.

You decided to start a pot of coffee and made your way to the kitchen; when you stepped inside you found him sitting at the table and staring at his hands. You relaxed ever so slightly when you realized he was home…but something was definitely still going on.

“Joel?” you’d been so quiet that he hadn’t heard you come in, but his head snapped up and looked at you, “h-hey, my love.”

He inhaled shakily before looking you over, his entire face turning into a grimace at the angry haze of bruising on your arm. You realized what he was looking at and moved to tuck your arm behind your back.

“I hurt you,” was all he managed to see before you could see that his eyes were glistening with tears. You took a few steps closer and shook your head fervently, but he recoiled from you, “I did that to you.”

“No,” the fact that he tried to shy away from you didn’t stop you from getting closer, “you didn’t hurt me - that wasn’t you.”

“It was me,” gingerly, he reached for your hand and pulled out your arm so he could look it over properly. In between the marks you could see the fingerprints etched in there, “if it wasn’t me, who did this to you?”

“Baby-”

“I hurt you,” he repeated, “all because I couldn’t handle the sound of some fuckin’ fireworks.”

“Stop,” you crouched down so you could look up at him since he refused to do so, “please. It wasn’t your fault, and I don’t blame you for this. No one should - it was an unfortunate thing but it’s over and done with this and this bruising will heal and go away. But I am never going away, and if you think this one little thing will do that, then you don’t know me very well.”

“I had no control over what happened,” he was willing to concede at least that much, “and that’s what scares me. What if it happens again? What if it gets even worse the next time? What if-”

“Joel,” you reached up and put your hand on his face, brushing your thumb over his cheek, “you can’t think like that. It’s not healthy….just because it happened once doesn’t mean it will happen again. And, if for some reason it does, we’ll take it one day at a time.”

He reached up and gently removed your hand from his face, causing you to frown deeply, “I can’t trust myself around you. If anything ever happened to you or to Ellie, I would never forgive myself.”

“Joel-”

“I need some air,” he stood up and gently brushed past you, walking outside and into the backyard. You remained rooted in your spot, but sighed heavily, blinking back the tears that threatened to well up.

Things would be okay, you knew they would…they had to be. Right? Right.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Joel was still with you, but you could slowly see him growing more and more distant as the days wore on. Despite your reassurances that you were okay, and you still loved him more than anything, it was like he became a shell of his former self. And it wasn’t just with you, which was a bit of reassurance that it wasn’t just you, but it was with everyone. You wished there was something you could do that would easily get him back to his former self. Just as your arm grew better and less bruised, he continued to pull away and create a barrier between the two of you.

One late night, as you laid in bed reading due to your inability to sleep, Joel came in and slowly closed the door behind him, and leaned against it. When he cleared his throat, you looked up and saw a serious expression on his face. He looked just as tired as you felt.

“What’s up?” you asked softly as you closed your book and gently set it to the side. He remained silent for a few moments, clearly searching for the right words. Once a few moments of tense silence passed he finally looked at you, "hmm?"

"I've been thinkin'," he shoved his hands into pockets. You sat up straighter and tried to push down the nagging feeling that was already forming in your tummy, "and I think it's best…I should go."

"Go?" You parroted, not fully understanding what he was talking about, "what do you mean, Joel?"

"Go," he waved his hand around, "I don't think I should be here with you and Ellie anymore."

"Oh. Oh," you frowned at him, "so you're just going to up and leave."

"Baby, I - it's not like that," he insisted softly but you weren't just about to let him go. Not that easily, "this is what's best."

You scoffed at him, not even bothering to hide your disappointment, "that's what's best, huh? For who? For who is it best? You?"

"Best for everyone."

"Well that is just a straight up lie," you got out of bed and walked over to him, crossing your arms over his chest, "its not what's best for me at all. Or Ellie."

"Baby," it was softer and much more gentle, and almost resigned in a way.

"Listen - this time I need you to listen to me," you stood in front of him, firm and tall, "this has been going on for weeks now and I'm not just going to let you keep continuing on like this."

"I just…I wouldn't forgive myself if I ever did anything to you or hurt you in any way possible," you could see his Adam's apple bobbing, "its already hard enough knowing that I did."

"Look," you pulled back the sleeve of your sweater and held up your arm. When he refused to acknowledge what you were doing you kept a cool and even tone, "look at me."

Reluctantly he allowed himself to look at your arm, at the place he had once hurt you. Your arm was back to normal and no remnants of what had once happened. He wrapped his fingers gingerly around your wrist as he tenderly turned your arm to get a better look at it.

"There's nothing there," you pointed out softly, "and it doesn't hurt at all. I don't think about it anymore and I don't…I never blamed you and I was never scared of you."

"You're saying that now…but what if it happens again?" You could see the genuine concern in his eyes as you reached up and gently touched his face. He closed his eyes and leaned into your touch, something he'd denied himself for what seemed like an eternity by that point.

"If it does, we'll figure it out," you meant every word you said and you hoped he knew that, "Joel, life isn't always easy and it's not always fun. But just because one hard or bad thing happened doesn't mean I'm just going to walk away. That's not who we are and that's not what we do. I'm with you forever and nothing is going to change that."

He opened and closed his mouth a few times, in search of the right thing to say. Instead of verbalizing all that he was feeling, he bowed his head and pressed his forehead to yours.

"If it was me that happened to and I hurt you, would you want me to just leave?" You asked softly and you could feel the shake of his head.

"Of course not," he insisted, "it wouldn't…it would have been an accident."

"Exactly," you whispered, "how do you think I feel about you? I'm not going to let you just go. Not without a fight."

"Really?"

"Of course," you took his face in your hands and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, "I love you, silly man. Nothing is ever going to change that. We'll be together through the good and the bad, through thick and thin. All of it."

And that was what seemed to break him. You could hear him sniffle lightly before a few tears rolled down his cheek. You gently brushed them away before making a small sound of reassurance at him.

"I love you, baby," he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into his warm, soft body. You felt him relax into your touch as you looped your arms around his shoulders and tucked yourself into his body as best as possible. You could tell that he needed this just as much as you did; he was practically melting into your body, "so much."

"I love you," it was a sentiment whispered in his ear so only he could hear it,"so, so much my love."

"When I hurt you I just…I got so worried."

"It's understandable," you insisted, "anyone would feel that way. But I want you to also understand that I love you and that nothing is ever going to change that."

"I know," a huff of laughter escaped him, "I've always known that."

"Good," you gave him the beaming smile that he still managed to fall in with over and over again, "because I've always known that you love me too. I can't promise everything, but I can promise you one thing."

"What's that?" He trailed his fingers against your jaw.

"That we'll always be together," you pressed kisses to both of his cheeks, "and we'll get through anything. And that I will always love you."

"That's three things," he teased, a glimpse of his true self coming though.

"Joel!" You were laughing though and he loved that sound, "get the sentiment though."

"I do," he agreed gently, "I love you."

"I love you too, Joel Miller."

#joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller one shot #joel miller imagine #pedro pascal #tlou

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rayaverra · 4 months

Text

Jealousy Unleashed // Luke Castellan

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

genre: angst

request: Hi, could you do Luke castellan x fem reader where the reader makes Luke jealous? Thank you!

summary: you and Luke had an argument, and now you try to break his silent treatment by making him jealous.

warnings: probably language

wc: 1k

notes: I had many ideas of how to approach this, but I decided to make it a bit angst. hope you like it :)

english is not my first language, so there may be mistakes.

・❥・༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶・❥・

You and Luke were a beautiful couple, but just like all couples, there was problem in paradise. You didn't argue a lot, but when you did, oh boy! You were both too stubborn and, above all, too proud to admit your wrongs. This time was no different. After a stupid argument (that neither of you remember the cause of because it probably was something stupid), Luke was giving you the silent treatment. He had done this before, but he never lasted longer than a few hours because neither of you could go very long without talking to the other. But this one had been going on for almost two days, and you wouldn't let it pass.

You were at the bonfire sing-along with the Apollo cabin, blatantly talking and laughing with anyone who wasn't Luke. When he attempted to get your attention from across the bonfire, you glanced at him, then turned back around to continue your conversation with Charles.

Luke crossed his arms, gritting his teeth. "Stay calm," he thought to himself. "She's just talking to Beckendorf. He's like four years younger than her."

Just when he started to cool off, you stood up from your seat. He watched as you walked your way to Nick, a boy from the Athena cabin, closer to your age. His blood started to heat up.

In all honesty, you were just talking to him to piss Luke off. It was an awful thing to do—you recognized that—but maybe he needed to suffer a little before you forgave him. Plus, maybe this would make him break his silence and actually talk to you instead of glaring like a little kid from across the room. If Luke wanted to hold a grudge, you would too, and you knew he wouldn't apologize unless you took action.

And of course, you refused to be the one to apologize first.

The Stolls walked over to Luke, picking up immediately on their brother's increasing anger. Connor poked Luke's arm and almost jumped back when Luke gave him a look of murderous rage. "What do you want?" Luke snapped, looking over Travis' shoulder as you leaned toward Nick a bit more. "I'm a little busy, as you can see."

"Totally!" said Travis, rolling his eyes.

"Maybe you should just apologize to her instead of glaring at the back of her head while she talks to Nick." Connor said, glancing over his shoulder at you.

"Who isn't exactly ugly, by the way." Added Travis, reminding Luke how most of the girls at camp consider him attractive.

"You don't know her like I do, so you wouldn't understand. Now go do... whatever you were doing, I told you I'm busy." Luke waved them away with his hands and returned to his previous activity of glaring at his girlfriend, arms crossed, and a childish pout on his lips.

"Yeah, busy pretending you don't care about your girlfriend while pretty boy over there is making openly flirtatious comments towards her." Connor nudged him.

"If I were you, I would apologize now, before she and Nick get even cozier over there," Travis pointed towards you and Nick, who were sitting incredibly close. He had one hand twirling a stand of your hair, the other resting close to your knee.

Luke was furious; in a cartoon world, he would've turned red, and steam would've come out of his ears. He quickly made his way over there before you could even blink, forcing himself in between you both and sitting down right there. He leaned into you, wrapping an arm around your waist, before turning his head toward Nick and raising his eyebrows.

"That looked like a nice conversation, mind if I join you?"

"I don't think it would make much of a difference if I said no," Nick said. The smile he had on his face while he was talking to you had vanished.

Luke smirked, shaking his head. "Nope," he replied, taking your hand in his. You didn't protest; you knew this was his way of saying he was sorry and that the real apology would actually come out soon enough, that is, when Nick stood up and left. Except, Nick stayed in his seat, narrowing his eyes.

"You're not a very good boyfriend, are you, Castellan?" Nick fired, and, oh gods, you could almost see a vein flickering in Luke's forehead. "Since when do you control who your girlfriend talks to?"

Luke pulled away from you, clenching his jaw. His fists tightened, and his eyes narrowed with fury. "Watch your words, Anderson. You're treading on thin ice." He warned, his voice low and dangerous.

You leaned forward, placing one hand on his shoulder and using your other one to relax his tight fist. "Hey, cool it down," you said softly. "This isn't the time for a clash."

Luke visibly relaxed, his shoulders slumping as he gave you a small smile, grabbing your hand tightly.

Nick stood up, a smirk on his face. "Well, that's adorable. A girlfriend having to calm her boyfriend down from murderous fits of rage. How cute."

You held Luke's hand tighter, and his previous anger was replaced with a smirk of his own. "Think whatever you want, Nick, but at the end of the day, there's one thing I get to do, and you don't," he said in a triumphant voice.

"And what's that?" Nick asked with the minimum interest.

"Kiss my incredibly beautiful girlfriend." Luke said, tangling his hands in your hair and pulling you towards him, pressing his soft lips to yours. His inner self did a victory dance when you deepened the kiss, your own hands moving to his cheeks.

"You're such an asshole sometimes," you told him when you pulled away. It wasn't a lie; even Luke himself knew it. But he didn't really care, and neither did you.

He had gotten Nick to walk away and had gotten you to forgive him, all in one shot. Plus, he made out with you, which was always a bonus.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #pjo x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan pjo #percy series #percy jackson books #angst #pjo imagine #one shot #luke castellan imagine #pjo books #pjo #pjo fandom

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itsmealaiah · 4 months

Text

Come over later

a/n: first carl smut, kind of nervous.

tags/ warnings: p in v, cursing, making out, begging, usual smut features.

MDNI ⚠️

Your POV:

"Hey, Y/N. How's it going?" Carl asked as he leaned against the locker beside mine, his eyes sparkling with mischief. I couldn't help but smile back. We'd been friends for years, and even though he could be a total pain sometimes, there was something about him that just drew me in.

"Good, you?" I replied, trying to sound casual even though my heart was racing a little faster than usual.

"Oh, you know, just fantasizing about you doing your homework in my bedroom," he said with a wink, making me feel a mix of embarrassed and… weirdly turned on. I rolled my eyes and playfully hit him on the arm.

"Very funny, Gallagher. Now, can I get by my locker or what?" I teased, but he didn't let me get too far. He grabbed my wrist gently, his touch sending shivers down my spine, and pulled me closer.

"Actually, there's something I've been meaning to ask you," he said, his voice low and serious for once. "Do you want to come over to my house tonight and, you know, help me with some homework?" His expression was so sincere that for a moment, I almost believed him. Almost.

I glanced around to make sure nobody was paying attention, then leaned in closer. "I don't know, Carl… What kind of 'help' are we talking about here?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. His cheeks flushed slightly, and he bit his lower lip before responding.

"Well, you know… maybe we could just study together… and maybe take little breaks to, you know, clear our heads or something?" He gave me his most charming smile, and my heart skipped a beat. He knew exactly what he was doing.

"Oh, really?" I pretended to consider it. "Well, I guess I could always use some extra help. And who knows? Maybe I'll learn a thing or two about getting distracted from my homework." I winked back at him, and he grinned wider.

"Deal," he said, his voice a little huskier than usual.

I spent the rest of the day feeling incredibly nervous and excited in equal measure. Every time I thought about what might happen at Carl's house, my heart would race and my stomach would flutter. It wasn't like I had never been with him before, but this felt different somehow. More intense.

Finally, the bell rang for the end of the school day, and I gathered my things quickly, eager to get to Carl's house and find out what he had planned for us. I didn't even mind that it was a Friday night and I could have been out with my friends. All I could think about was seeing him again.

I arrived at his house a few minutes early, my heart pounding in my chest. He opened the door and smiled when he saw me. "Hey, Y/N. Come on in." He stepped aside to let me enter, and I walked past him into his cozy living room. He shut the door behind me and locked it, throwing me a mischievous grin.

"So," I said, trying to sound casual, even though I felt anything but. "What exactly do you need help with?"

Carl walked over to the couch and plopped down, pulling his knees up to his chest. "Oh, you know, just some math homework. But if you're not feeling up for it…" His voice trailed off suggestively, and he looked me up and down, making my skin tingle. "We could always do something else to help each other focus."

I swallowed hard, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. "I guess that could be fun," I managed to say, trying to sound confident even though my heart was racing. I took a step closer to him, feeling the distance between us shrink. "So, what do you want to do first?"

He glanced up at me, his eyes darkening. "Well, we could start with a little bit of this…" He leaned in and pressed his lips against mine, his tongue darting out to explore my mouth. I gasped into the kiss, my hands finding their way up to his shoulders, pulling him closer.

As our kiss deepened, I could feel his hardness pressing against my thigh, and a shiver of desire ran down my spine. I wanted him so badly, but I also wanted to take my time and enjoy every moment. I broke the kiss, breathing heavily, and gazed into his eyes. "Carl…," I whispered, my voice husky with desire. "I want you."

He smiled, his eyes burning with lust. "I know you do, baby. But first, let's get you a little more comfortable." With that, he scooped me up into his arms and carried me over to his bedroom. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from a small lamp on his nightstand. The bed was unmade, the sheets tangled and rumpled. It looked like he hadn't made it in days.

Carl set me down on the edge of the bed, his hands running up my thighs, over my hips, and around my waist, pulling me closer. "You're so beautiful, Y/N," he whispered, leaning in to kiss my neck. "I've wanted this for so long."

His touch sent shivers of desire coursing through my body, and I arched my back, pressing myself against him. He groaned into my neck, his hands moving to unbutton my blouse. "God, you feel so good," he murmured, his breath warm against my skin.

As he slid my blouse off my shoulders, revealing my lacy black bra, I reached up to unfasten his shirt, eager to feel his skin against mine. His chest was smooth and warm, and I ran my hands up and down it, reveling in the feeling of his muscles tensing beneath my touch.

He cupped my breasts through the lace, his thumbs circling my nipples, making them harden. "You're so responsive," he breathed, leaning in to kiss one of them. I moaned into his kiss, arching my back further, my hips grinding against his.

He broke the kiss, his gaze traveling down to where I was aching for him. "You're so wet for me," he whispered, his voice thick with desire. "I can't wait to be inside you."

He reached down and slowly pulled my pants and panties down my legs, tossing them aside. His erection was standing tall and hard, and I could feel the heat of him against my thigh. I reached down and took him in my hand, stroking him slowly, feeling the velvety smoothness of his skin beneath my fingers.

"Fuck, that's it," he groaned, his hips bucking forward. "I want to feel you around me, baby. I want to be inside you." He leaned in and kissed me deeply, his tongue tangling with mine as his hands moved to unfasten my bra. He pulled it off, revealing my bare breasts to the cool air of the room.

He lowered himself onto the bed beside me, propping himself up on one elbow to look down at me. His gaze was intense, his eyes dark and heavy with desire. Without another word, he positioned himself between my legs, his hardness pressing against my wetness.

"Are you ready for me?" he asked, his voice rough with need. I nodded, my heart pounding in anticipation. He smiled, leaning forward to kiss me tenderly before guiding himself inside me. I gasped at the sensation of being filled by him, feeling the stretch of my body as he slid deeper and deeper. He paused, looking down at me with a mix of awe and lust.

"You're so tight," he breathed. "So perfect." He began to move, slowly at first, his hips thrusting in a gentle rhythm that sent waves of pleasure through my body. I arched my back, meeting his thrusts, wanting more.

As we moved together, our skin slipped against each other's, creating a delicious friction that only heightened the sensation. His hands found their way to my hips, holding me firmly as he drove into me, his pace growing faster and more urgent. I could feel the tension building inside me, the familiar tightness in my core as I neared my climax.

"Carl…," I gasped, my nails digging into his shoulders. "I'm close…"

He groaned, his hips moving faster as he felt me begin to tighten around him. "Me too, baby. Let go. Let it out." His thrusts grew harder, more urgent, as he fought to control his own release. I could feel his sweat trickling down my back, his muscles tensing under my touch.

The room spun, the world fading away except for the feel of his skin on mine, the slide of our bodies together. I arched my back, my back muscles tensing as I cried out in ecstasy. "Carl!"

His name left my lips as my body convulsed around him, and he followed, his breath hitching as he released himself deep inside me. Our bodies moved together in perfect harmony, our rhythm becoming more fluid with each passing moment.

He pulled back just enough to look down at me, his expression a mix of satisfaction and awe. "You feel so good," he whispered, his fingers trailing down my stomach to my center. He began to stroke me gently, and I arched into his touch, my hips lifting off the bed in response.

"Carl," I moaned, my voice barely more than a breath. "I need you."

He kissed me again, this time more urgently, before rolling onto his back, pulling me on top of him. I straddled his hips, feeling the hardness of him beneath me as he guided me down onto him. Our skin slid against each other, the friction almost unbearable.

He looked up at me, his eyes dark and intense. "That's it," he breathed. "Fuck, you feel so good." His hands found their way to my hips, holding me firmly as he began to move up into me, meeting my downward thrusts. The rhythm was fast and urgent, our bodies moving together in perfect harmony.

As I rode him, I felt the weight of his hands on my hips, guiding me, urging me to go faster. I arched my back, moaning his name as pleasure coursed through me. The sound of our skin slapping together filled the room, a primal reminder of the raw desire that bound us together.

His mouth found mine, his tongue tangling with mine as he drove deeper, harder. I could feel the tension building inside me again, the familiar tightening in my core. I knew I was close, so close to another release.

I moved my hips faster, lost in the sensation of being so completely connected to him. I could feel the warmth spreading between us, a testament to the intimacy we shared in this moment. His grip on my hips tightened, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he felt me begin to tighten around him.

"That's it, baby," he groaned, his thrusts growing more urgent. "cum f'me"

I arched my back, my nails digging into his shoulders as I felt the familiar tightening in my core. "Carl," I moaned, my voice ragged and pleading. He answered with a groan, his hips moving faster, his thrusts deep and powerful. I could feel the tension building inside me, ready to explode. I wrapped my legs around his waist, wanting to feel him even deeper, as if I could touch his soul.

His kisses were soft and demanding, his tongue dancing with mine. The air was thick with the scent of our sweat and desire, and I felt myself growing closer and closer to the edge. His hands moved up my body, cupping my breasts, and I could feel my nipples harden against his palm.

"That's it," he murmured, his hips thrusting deep into me. "Give it to me."

I could feel the pressure building inside me, my body trembling with the effort of containing it. With one last thrust, he buried himself deep inside me, his eyes locked on mine as he felt my muscles clench around him. The sensation was overwhelming, my body convulsing with pleasure as I came apart in his arms.

"Carl," I gasped, my fingers digging into his shoulders. "I love you."

His answer was a groan as he followed me over the edge, his hips snapping against mine in a final, powerful thrust. He collapsed on top of me, his weight pinning me to the bed, our sweat-slicked skin sticking together.

"I love you too," he whispered, kissing my forehead. "So much."

#carl gallagher x reader #carl gallagher #shameless #shameless smut #itsmealaiah #shameless us #shameless fanfiction

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tiredofthehumanlife · 2 months

Text

Pretty boy

Barbie dolls: Mattheo riddle x Slytherin!reader

Summary: gn Slytherin reader notices mattheo gets incredibly flustered around them so they ask him out as you do

Warnings: not really any r kisses his cheek but that's Abt it

Request: why yes

Mattheo had been crushing on you for years. All his friends knew it too. He was so obvious about it. It was like he wasn't even trying to hide it. Mattheo really was though. He was trying his hardest, most people didn't notice but all his friends knew. Mattheo would be walking to skip his next class with his friends, he'd see you and your friends coming down the hall and all of a sudden his jaw is slack. You'd look away from your friend to smile at him and wave, and next thing you know he's face planted. You'd always sigh as Theo and Lorenzo pull him up off the ground, Blaise scooping up Mattheo's books.

You'd both be sitting in class, across the room from each other. Mattheo staring at you while Lorenzo and Blaise pretended to be you and Mattheo making out and flirting. When Lorenzo moaned quite loudly, you glanced over at them with a raised brow. Lorenzo and Blaise both shooting back to their work. Mattheo froze. He's been caught staring. You smiled at him. Mattheo felt his heart soar, dropping his chin on his fist. You blew him a kiss before turning back to the assignment. Mattheo flushed and sighed lovingly. Theo mocked his sigh and Mattheo shoved Theo's head back towards his work.

You noticed his reactions and thought it was adorable. So with all the courage you had, you walked over to Mattheo at dinner, deciding to ask him out. Mattheo looked up from his plate when he heard someone approaching. The second he realized it was you, he stared down at his food and covered his face with his hands. Mattheo's friends noticed his behavior and already knew what was coming, sharing a look with each other.

"hey, Mattheo." You said. Mattheo peaked at you from behind his hands before dropping them. He rested his chin in his hand.

"hey." It came out high pitched and pained so Mattheo immediately tried again. "Hey." This time it was far deeper than his usual voice. "Hey, hi, hello, hi." Mattheo tried for the third time. You smiled and nodded.

"yeah well anyways, do you think we could talk in private?" Mattheo looked to Theo, asking what to do. Theo gestured for him to go with you. Mattheo nodded, standing up. You grabbed his hand and dragged him out of the great hall. You stopped but kept your hold on him.

"what are you doing this weekend?" Mattheo flushed and glanced around. You waited patiently.

"uh probably just sitting and chilling." You could tell that he was trying his hardest to come off as cool. Mattheo leaned against the wall, schooling his face. You stared at him blankly.

"so you're not busy?" He shrugged.

"if you would consider me relaxing and chilling, chillaxing if you will, busy." You stared at him and hoped that with more exposure to you he would stop talking in such a way.

"I do not, hey just thinking out loud here, how would you feel about going out?" His jaw went slack as he stared at you. You looked into his eyes and knew if Dr. Frankenstein needed a brain he would not be picking Mattheo. He quickly jumped off the wall and started nodding.

"yes. Yes. Yeah. Definitely." You smiled. You reached up and twirled his hair around your finger. Mattheo froze and stared at you with big puppy eyes. You pecked him on his cheek before walking away.

"see you there, pretty boy." You glanced back at him to see his flushed face. Mattheo was holding his cheek. When you turned around the corner, you could hear him cheering and running around.

#mattheoxreader #mattheo x y/n #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x male reader #slytherin boys x you #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys #slytherin

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talaok · 7 months

Note

hi bestie, I've been thinking about your incredible writing and I thought of something, if it's okay for you, it would be an interesting fic, thank you very much for the dedication and love you put into your works, they are perfect.

We always see fic scenarios out there where Pedro is insecure about the age difference, exposure and privacy, but what about a totally different scenario where Pedro tries to convince the reader that none of that really matters because they are in love? and that they will be able to get through this? (In this case, I don't think the reader would have a problem with the age gap, but she would like to have a "normal" relationship and not one where they can't hold hands, kiss or be seen together because of the paparazzi...

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x reader

warnings: angst

a/n: thank you soso much love💖, and im sorry if this isn't exactly what you had pictured

it's stupid how you got here.

How you ended up sobbing on the couch as your boyfriend tried to understand what was going on.

It was just a stupid couple, a stupid couple kissing on the subway... in public.

And all you could think about as you came home was how unfair it was, that you and Pedro couldn't do that, that you had to hide your relationship in the confines of your apartment, that you couldn't kiss, hold hands, or hug him in the street like you longed for.

it made you think, but it also did something else, it made you realize.

It made you realize just how tired you were, just how exhausting having to pretend like you didn't love someone more than life was, and to have to watch that person, the man who's the object of said love, pretend the same thing.

It was exhausting, and you were exhausted, and as much as you loved him, you'd started to realize that maybe you couldn't, that maybe it just wasn't meant to be.

"sweetheart..." he murmured, softly caressing your right arm, as you hid your face in your own hands "What are you saying?"

You'd only half explained yourself before the tears started, so he hadn't understood completely, he had gotten a part- and he didn't like what he got, it was destroying him actually, but he still had hope... maybe he had simply misinterpreted it all.

"I-I'm saying" you sniffled, peeking up at him, "I'm saying that I don't know if I can do this anymore"

"What?" he breathed, his heart breaking into a million pieces with a simple sentence "Y-you can't do what?" he asked

Hope, hope, he needed to have hope.

This couldn't be it.

No, not like this, not now- fuck, not ever.

"this- us" you explained, tears falling from your eyes without a break "The hiding, the secrecy, not being able to kiss you whenever I want to, I-"

No.

He couldn't give up

"then let's tell everyone!" he begged, taking your hands in his, ignoring the void in his stomach, the sickness in his throat "we-we can do that, we could just-"

"you know I can't" you stopped him "My career is still at the beginning, if this got out it would destroy my image, they'd start saying that I'm with you for the fame and then no one would hire me anymore"

"but you're not" he murmured "You're not like that"

"I know" you shrugged "but how would they?"

"I-I'll tell them" He spoke, trying to sound more confident than he felt "I'll tell everyone how much I love you, how important you are for me, how amazing you are, I'll-"

it was your turn to beg now

"stop" a sob crept up your throat "stop, I just- I can't"

"Sugar, please" he whispered "I love you" he promised " I love you so fucking much, and I can't lose you- not like this, I just can't"

Your eyes were focused on where your hands were intertwining, not able to meet his gaze.

Guilt was eating at you from within, filling up your lungs with smoke until you couldn't breathe.

"I know you do" you spoke, your voice a faint thread "And I love you too, but that's not what this is about, it's about how exhausting this is- I mean, don't you feel it too, aren't you tired too?"

Your eyes were melting with his now

"yeah I am" he nodded "but if it's what I need to do to be with you, then I gladly do it. I'd do anything for you sweetheart- I'd jump off a bridge if you asked me to"

A soft, silly smile pulled unconsciously at your lips.

And he saw it as a victory, a small one, but still something, a crack he'd created.

"Please sugar" he squeezed your hands "Please don't do this, I'm begging you."

"I love you. I love you more than anything, more than myself, more than life itself, so please, for the love of god, don't do this"

"Baby I-"

"Please-" his eyes were shimmering "we'll get through this, we'll find a way"

"what way?"

"I-I don't know yet" he admitted, his voice lower "but what I do know it's that I can't lose you, not over something like this, and that I'm gonna work my ass off to find a solution"

"yeah?" a snort bubbled from your nose

"yeah" he smiled, leaning closer so his hot breath was fanning over your mouth "So what do you say," he asked, "you trust me?"

And at that, you couldn't help but smile

"I do," you said "I trust you"

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bippot · 9 months

Text

Summary: The two BAU younglings clearly feel something other than friendship towards each other. Despite how much Morgan and the rest of the team tease them, the dynamic duo progress at their own adorable speed.

Tags: Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Crushes, Mutual Pining, Fluff, Drinking, Awkward Flirting, Touch-Starved, Spencer Reid Needs a Hug

Music Recommendations: One on One Hall and Oates

Criminal Minds, Dr Spencer Reid Masterlist - here

Over the years, Spencer had grown more accustomed to people touching him. He still didn't like it. He still would prefer if he was left untouched. But if someone held their hand out for a handshake, he no longer declined the offer. He did rigorously wash and sanitise his hands after every encounter with a new person, though.

The rest of the team had begun to notice this new, more relaxed Reid.

Coincidentally, this change had occurred a few weeks after a certain Agent Y/N had joined the BAU; a young woman whom Derek had affectionately begun calling 'Peanut' since she had dethroned Reid as the youngest of the squad and had brought a peanut butter sandwich for lunch on her first day.

Together, the two youngsters had become fast friends. The new arrival quickly took a liking to Spencer's quirky personality and was the only person who allowed him to ramble on and on for as long as he wanted, about whatever he wanted, without interrupting or changing any of his train of thought.

Whereas Spencer was particularly fond of the way Y/N always gave him a helping hand socially whenever he needed it. He knew he wasn't the easiest to interact with sometimes, but with Y/N's advice and guidance, he was getting better.

After a particularly disgusting case, the team were on the jet and on their way back to Virginia, and they were all ready for a long weekend. The 'dynamic duo', as they'd become known, sat next to each other, both quiet and absorbed in their own thoughts.

"Hey, look at Pretty Boy over there," Morgan whispered to Prentiss, nudging the arm she was holding her drink in and causing it to splash down her shirt. He snorted but was quick to apologise, "Sorry, we can have a wet t-shirt contest later if you want payback."

Emily brushed her hand down the wet patch as she glanced in the direction of the duo to find Reid pretending to read. His book was firmly in his hands, yes, yet his eyes flitted between the page and the woman beside him, who was busy watching the clouds outside the window. Spencer's eyes were practically hearts behind his glasses as he watched her, his mouth slightly open and his tongue poking between his lips, and he looked utterly fascinated, completely enamoured.

"Oh, that's adorable," she teased, looking sideways and catching Morgan's eye with a knowing smirk.

Y/N finally took her focus off the window, realising she was being stared at by the young brunette. "What?" she questioned curiously, giving Spencer what she hoped was an inquisitive smile. Reid suddenly realised how creepy he must appear staring at her like that, so he tried to pretend that he wasn't doing anything weird but couldn't help smiling an incredibly goofy smile in return.

"You look tired, Y/N."

"That's no way to talk to a lady, Reid," Morgan interrupted, raising an eyebrow with a playful smile playing on his lips. "You still look beautiful, Peanut."

Spencer dipped his head to hide the frown that appeared due to Morgan's comment, and his fingers gripped onto his book a little tighter, which was obviously noticed by the profilers opposite. Even Hotch let out a quiet huff of something that sounded like laughter from where he was sitting, having turned around to see the display.

"I didn't mean it like... I, uh, I just..." Spencer trailed off, trying to come up with something to say. He looked across to gauge Y/N's reaction in the hopes she'd help him out and not embarrass him further.

Instead, he found himself looking straight into her bright eyes, which had crinkled at the corners as she giggled at him. Her hand made its way to his thigh and gently squeezed in an effort to comfort the confused boy, who had seemed to turn into a blushing, flustered mess in front of her, and her smile grew impossibly bigger at his bashfulness.

"I've been called worse, doctor. Don't sweat it."

With that, she went back to watching the passing scenery, while Spencer and Derek stared at each other, having a conversation with only their facial expressions. It didn't take a genius to figure out what Morgan was trying to urge Reid to do. It seemed that Reid was reluctant to go through with it. He looked across at Y/N and bit his lip nervously before shaking his head.

For the next hour or two, they all tried to get some shut eye, some more successful in their attempts than others.

Prentiss was snoozing with her cheek squished against the glass.

Hotch had spread himself out and had a sleep mask on, so who knows if he was truly sleeping or not?

JJ had fallen asleep a couple of minutes into the plane ride - she'd called Henry, and then, boom, out like a light.

Rossi had brought along a neck pillow and draped it around his head, apparently content to sleep away the remainder of the flight with the occasional snore escaping his slightly opened mouth.

Derek, well, he had his eyes closed but he had yet to drift off. He was too busy listening to the dynamic duo as they were in the throes of a passionate conversation, both of them leaning forward intently towards one another, their heads close together, and their voices hushed.

"I don't know what to tell you, Spencer, but I know - with one hundred percent certainty - that I'd prefer to watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer over Star Trek any day."

"You've got to be kidding me?" Reid said, almost shocked that she could ever consider such a thing. "Star Trek has endured for over fifty years. It transcends generations, and it's still going strong!"

"Yeah, well, have you even watched Buffy?"

"No." Spencer narrowed his eyes. "Have you ever seen Star Trek?"

"No."

He opened his mouth and seemed as if he was about to continue, but gave up with a laugh and shook his head in amusement. Y/N grinned at him and shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly as if she were assuring him that this argument meant nothing and it was just for fun.

"If you wanted to, and I, uh, u-understand if not, I'd be willing to endure a Buffy marathon with you. Any time."

His voice faltered slightly, and for a moment, it was like he had forgotten how to breathe. It felt like his heart stopped beating momentarily. For a second, he could feel his stomach churning uncomfortably, but the sensation vanished quickly and Y/N nodded her head in reply, unable to contain her grin at his response.

"You can try and turn me into a Trekkie if you'd like."

"Oh! Okay, yeah, I'd like to. W-we can arrange that. We can sort that out."

They soon settled down enough to fall asleep, heads resting against each other's and failed to notice Morgan whisper, "My man," under his breath. He peeked out of one eye to catch a glimpse of the good doctor and his soon-to-be sweetheart. Prentiss was right, he thought, they were adorable. And Derek had half a mind to take a picture and send it to Garcia.

After that, it was impossible not to notice how comfortable Spencer had gotten while interacting with Y/N in every way. The team was unsure whether the pair had actually gotten together yet, but they knew it was only a matter of time. The boy wonder often rambled about how they went to the library, the cinema, or had those TV watchalongs.

And it seemed that the pair were so close that they'd developed their own sort of language, even if they were unaware of its existence.

"Hey Spock," Y/N greeted as she entered Morgan's hotel room where they'd been going over the case after hours, her hands coming down on his shoulders to gently massage them. He'd positioned himself right on the edge of the bed, so Y/N took the opportunity to kneel behind him and rest her chin on his shoulder.

On this particular case, Reid had to read through thousands of pages of a psychopath's very descriptive diary, which was filled with gruesome descriptions and diagrams of torture. The rest of the squad had gone to dinner, yet Spencer had waved them off. They knew there was only one person who had a chance at changing his mind.

"Take a break?" But instead of stopping like she asked him to, he continued reading until she pulled the book out of his hands. "...Please."

"Fine," he replied with a sigh. "The unsub-"

"A total break. No work talk."

"But -" She gave him a look, one that was stern but soft at the same time, and he gave in.

As she went to pull away, she noticed that his hair was a complete mess. "Did you brush your hair today? Or at any point this week?" she teased while she reached up to brush through his thick locks with careful fingers, untangling the knots she spotted with ease.

"We were called out pretty early this morning, Y/N," he reminded her with a playful inflection in his voice.

He tried to say something else, but it died in his throat as her fingers worked through his hair, massaging his scalp in such a way that he was turning to mush in her hands. His body relaxed, and his head lolled back against her palm. When she finished detangling his hair, she continued to further relax him with her touch until he let out a borderline embarrassing whine.

"Ah! I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make that noise," he told her, sitting bolt upright in embarrassment. His ears were bright red as he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as if he could somehow rub away the blush that had appeared on his face.

Frankly, Y/N was proud that she could pull a noise like that from him. There was no doubting that it would be imprinted on her brain forever since it was so cute. She grinned in triumph while she tucked a lock of his hair behind his ear. "No need to apologise, Spence."

To show how little of an apology she needed, she resumed working her fingers through his hair again, this time more forcefully and with a little more pressure, causing Reid to once again moan softly at her pleasurable treatment. They stayed like that for a while, neither really caring that much about how fast the time was flying by.

Just as another noise fell from Reid's lips, Morgan reentered his hotel room and stood there for a few seconds in stunned silence when his eyes landed on the embrace his two friends were sharing on his bed.

"Well, well, well," he started, making them jump out of their skin. "I'd prefer it if you use your own room to canoodle, kids."

Their faces flushed as they scrambled apart from each other as though they had been caught doing something forbidden. "Uh... we weren't… we... we...uh..." Reid stuttered incoherently, completely failing to find the words to explain themselves without sounding like an absolute idiot.

"Pretty Boy, I'm just teasing you," Morgan told him, holding his hands up in surrender as he walked closer to the bed, his gaze shifting between Spencer and Y/N. "Although, I'm planning to get at least two hours of sleep, either you guys leave or you give me the keys to your room, your choice."

Looking at each other out of the corner of their eyes, the pair made a silent agreement and shuffled out of Morgan's room quietly. As soon as they were in the hallway outside, both of them burst out laughing, both at the awkwardness of their situation and at how they were probably going to endure even more teasing.

They began to slowly walk in the direction of their rooms, both of them swinging their hands and almost knocking them into each other with every step they took. Their laughter faded away and was replaced with nervous smiles, the awkwardness still lingering in the air. It was only when they neared Y/N's door that one of them spoke up.

"Are you hungry? We both skipped out on lunch earlier, so..." The brunette asked suddenly, looking down at her with hopeful eyes.

"You want to go and grab food?"

"Maybe we could order to the hotel? I haven't eaten anything all day except for breakfast."

"Has anyone ever told you you're a genius?"

"Funny enough, they have."

Soon enough, they were huddled on Y/N's bed, surrounded by Chinese takeaway boxes, and watching cable TV as they ate, talking animatedly as they enjoyed each other's company. By the time they'd finished their meal, they hadn't managed to wipe the grins off of their faces once. And neither of them was willing to move an inch from their spot. They were too cosy, too warm, and too full from eating, so as the night turned into morning, the pair were once again side by side as they drifted off.

From that mission on, whenever Reid needed calming down, Y/N knew exactly what to do. And after getting used to it, Spencer began to ask beforehand. Not vocally, no. Whenever he wanted her to play with his hair, he'd simply and subtly tap her thigh, which was his way to silently plead for the girl to pet him.

Obviously, their coworkers had witnessed many strange things over their years as profilers, but none of them expected to ever see the touch-phobic Dr Reid urge someone to initiate physical contact with him. It was a rather shocking revelation for everyone who knew him.

It all came to a head one evening when the squad convinced Reid to join them for one of their after-work bar nights. Morgan had heavily stressed the fact that Y/N would be there and she would want to see him, and as much as the doctor didn't particularly enjoy these nights out, he was swayed by the suggestion anyway.

The only problem was that Y/N had caught the attention of the recently hired bartender there, who proceeded to flirt with her nonstop. Reid, due to his lingering second thoughts about the outing, was last to arrive and, as soon as he walked through the door, was already regretting his decision.

"Doctor, you're late," JJ teased, nudging him with her shoulder and gesturing towards the bar. "It looks like Y/N's still ordering our round if you want to go and add yours onto the tab. Rossi is paying, so go wild."

"Have you ever known me to 'go wild', JJ?" Reid asked dryly as he headed in the direction of the bar.

"Tonight could be your night. You never know, Spence."

That sentiment rang through Reid's head as he approached the other half of his duo. Y/N was smiling but as he got closer, Spencer noticed a certain fakeness to it, almost as if the girl was forcing it. A bolt of something sweet went straight to that big brain of his as he realised she never looked at him like that. All of her smiles had been genuine when they'd been directed at him. And that was proved when Y/N caught a glimpse of him out of the corner of her eye and broke out into a real, goofy grin that caused him to do the same.

"I was wondering if you were ever going to turn up," she greeted him cheerfully, holding her hand out for him to hold. He took it, and to his delight, she pulled him in for a hug.

She was a little wobbly and a lot more giggly than usual so it was obvious she'd had a few drinks. Judging by the glare he was getting from the bartender, Spencer assumed she'd got those drinks for free as a way to sway her affections. There was a flush to her cheeks as she looked up at him, and his heart skipped a beat when he caught a glimmer of something in her eyes.

"Do you want a drink, doctor?" she asked playfully, tilting her head to the side and giving him a coy look. "They do mocktails if you'd like something fancy."

"Yeah. Yeah, I'll take a mocktail."

"I'll get them," Y/N volunteered, squeezing his hand before releasing it and waving the bartender over. The guy was quick to try flirting with her again despite the fact that Spencer was right there and still had his arm wrapped around her.

Did the bartender not see him as a romantic threat? How was that possible when he was literally the one who was closer to her in every sense of the word? Was it so unlikely? Reid's brain was working overtime, desperately trying to come up with a solution to this issue as he stood there, helpless, watching the bartender make a very flamboyant and fruity-looking mocktail.

"Are you wearing a new cologne, Doctor?" Y/N questioned, a hint of flirtiness in her tone. It was just enough to cause Spencer to very loudly gulp and avert his gaze. Accidentally, he looked directly at Morgan, who gave him (what Derek intended to be) an encouraging wink. Whether it was, was another thing.

"Uh, y-yes," Reid managed to squeak out, before mentally kicking himself for being so obvious.

"It smells nice. You smell nice."

"I do?"

"You do."

Before Reid could thank her, the bartender placed the drink right between them and that disturbed any response he would eventually mumble out. Instead, he hurried to take a sip as an excuse to not say anything other than a hum of approval. It was delicious - he had to admit that. Maybe he should branch out from extremely sweet coffee once and a while.

Throughout the night, Reid stayed glued to his friend's side and did his best to ignore the knowing looks the other members of the squad were giving him. Y/N kept him on his toes with the amount of times she caused a blush to appear and his IQ to drop by twenty each time she made a playful comment.

By the time they left the bar, he was a total mess. And although Y/N had only been a little tipsy - it seemed that she only needed a little bit of liquid confidence to act upon her feelings - he was determined to make sure she got home.

Working a job that constantly forced him to see the worst of humanity, well, he had an obligation to ensure nothing bad happened. Safety first, after all.

Getting more time to hang out with her was a close second, though.

The pair made it back to Y/N's apartment in no time. It was a relatively short walk, and the streets were quiet at that late hour. The night air was warm and humid and the moon was full, giving their journey an ethereal glow. Neither of them said much. They didn't need to. There was no need to break the comfortable silence as they made their way closer to her door.

Spencer let Y/N lead them up to her apartment door. He even allowed her to hide behind him when one of her drunk neighbours stumbled into the elevator they were in because she didn’t want to interact with him. She stood behind him, her hands on his hips and her forehead resting against the back of his shoulder.

It was only when the drunkard - who'd not paid attention to Spencer at all - left that Y/N came out from hiding. "Sorry, Spock. Last time, he spoke to me about buying a timeshare for a full hour and I couldn't go through that again," she apologised sheepishly.

"I hide to avoid talking to my neighbour almost every day. It's a small price to pay for peace and quiet."

"That doesn't surprise me."

Once they were inside her apartment, Y/N immediately flopped face down on her couch. Spencer plopped down beside her feet and, without prompting, untied her laces and slipped her shoes off. He then did the same with his shoes, leaning back and getting comfortable.

"You're so sweet to me, Spock," Y/N muttered, lifting her face from the pillow she'd squished herself into to look at him. What she was greeted with was adorable. Reid had his hands intertwined behind his head, sitting criss-cross applesauce with his eyes closed.

Because of how he looked and how sweet he was, Y/N got to her knees and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. His eyes snapped open and his jaw dropped so he was gaping at her, blinking slowly.

"W-what was that for?"

"For being you."

"Oh. Okay." He tried to hide his confusion, but the look on his face was priceless. For all his intellect, he couldn't work out what the hell she meant.

So, to give him a helping hand, she gently placed her hooked forefinger under his chin and tilted his head up so he'd meet her eye.

"For making me happy," she whispered, pressing her lips to his in such a way that Reid was so startled by her display of affection that he forgot to respond for a moment until his hands came up to either side of her face and deepened the kiss.

That was all it took to send him plummeting into the depths of lust-induced oblivion. Spencer was acting purely on impulse as he pushed Y/N down on the couch and pressed his body into hers, trapping her underneath him with his knee between her legs.

Breaking apart, he let out a breath and leaned his forehead against hers. "Morgan is going to be so smug," Reid joked, "When he finds out I kissed you."

"You kissed me?" Y/N repeated jovially, winding her arms around his neck. "Is your memory different to mine, Mr Eidetic?"

"I'll just tell him about our second kiss."

Before she registered how smooth that had been, Spencer's lips were back on hers. He was eager and hungry and intent on making her dizzy. He held nothing back, and neither did she. Their lips collided in a storm of moans and groans, tongues tangling and fingers clutching at each other. Reid moved away for a moment to take off his tie and undo the first few buttons of his shirt.

"It's getting a little warm in here," he muttered, finally realising his skin was on fire thanks to her touch.

With this new stretch of skin uncovered, Y/N couldn't help herself and attached her lips to his newly uncovered collarbone, kissing up his neck to his ear and biting down gently on the lobe. He made a noise that was somewhere between a groan and a whimper, and he let his head fall back so he was looking at the ceiling.

Her fingers toyed with the remaining buttons of his shirt, teasing them open to get access to the skin underneath. Reid kept his eyes closed as she continued her exploration, enthralled by the attention she lavished upon him. Eventually, she was able to slide the fully opened shirt off his shoulders and ran her palms down his sides until she reached his belt.

"Spence? Do you want to continue?" Y/N asked, her voice breathless yet understanding. He beamed at her with eyes as wide as a bush baby. Reid could barely form a coherent thought, but clearly still held some grasp of his gentlemanly nature.

"Let me take you on a date first. Please? There's a few showings of The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari at the Palace this month. I've been trying to gather the courage to ask you for seven months, eighteen days and -" He checked his watch. "Ten hours and thirty three minutes."

"You're adorable, Doctor Reid." She nudged the tip of her nose against his, and let her hand trail up to rest in his head, her thumb drawing soothing lines against his pink cheek. "I'd love to."

Their glee was evident. It was palpable. Spencer placed his hand on her thigh, just as he'd become so accustomed to over the months, and expected her usual response. Yet, when Y/N tangled her fingers in his hair and lightly tugged his chin up, her eyes focused on his lips, he wasn't disappointed with the change of routine. Quite the opposite.

"Do I have to wait until our date to kiss you again or am I allowed to do it now?" She coquetted, raising and wiggling her eyebrows in a teasing manner.

His response was instant. "Now!" He cleared his throat, afraid that he'd been too eager. "I mean, now if you want. Yeah, uh...now." She peppered his cheeks with sloppy, wet kisses until he was breathless and desperate for a proper smooch. It didn't take long before he was guiding her into position to get what he wanted.

It was safe to assume that their very intelligent, very observant colleagues were going to be difficult to hide from. Especially when, in all the excitement, Spencer left a hickey on Y/N's collarbone. One that was just a few centimetres too big to be hidden by her work shirt.

#spencer reid #doctor reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n

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