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supercutszns · 4 months

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a place with you; luke castellan

wc: 2.8k (got a little carried away whoops)

pairing: luke castellan x f! reader

synopsis: luke is used to people coming in and out of hermes’ cabin without a second thought. so when you’re having a hard time adjusting to camp life, he doesn’t expect you to stick by his side, even after you’re claimed.

warnings/notes: shy reader going through a tough time, hurt/comfort, pining, kisses, fluff, potential ooc luke i don’t know what i’m doing, most of this is prob inaccurate lol, i got wayyy too attatched to this i am sorry, title inspired by dragon eyes by adrianne lenker

Luke Castellan is the son of a messenger. He’s used to delivering, passing things along, letting them enter his life and leave him. Sometimes it makes him angry. At his father, at the world, at himself.

So when you passed through the Hermes cabin for the inevitable few weeks before getting claimed by your Godly parent, the last thing Luke expected was for you to stay.

When you first got to camp you were terrified. Luke remembers that much. He can still picture you in Chiron’s towering shadow as he led you up to Hermes cabin. He gave you the usual spiel about the cabin, the land of the unclaimed, but it clearly hadn’t quelled your nerves. You were wringing your fingers together when Luke first spotted you, your eyes blown wide in what he knew as shock and a sort of . . . grief. For a life you’d left for what Luke knows as a life you’d never really have. He’d seen it in so many campers before you. He’d see it many times after.

“This is Luke, Hermes’ head counsellor and one of Camp Half-Blood’s finest,” Chiron pointed him out to you at the entrance. After Chiron introduced you, Luke held your name in his memory. Not because there was anything particularly intriguing about you at first, to be honest, because he’d seen a lot of people like you that needed help settling in (although maybe not many his age). It was harder for some people to adjust than most. He knew that better than anyone.

“Nice to meet you,” he stuck out his hand for you to shake after Chiron left. “I’m Luke.”

You sniffed, shaking it without looking at him. You were so, so embarrassed. This whole time you’d been too stupidly overwhelmed to process anything. Why was this so hard for you? Was it this hard for everyone? “Hi,” you managed, and that was it.

Now, weeks after your first meeting, you’ve concluded that it was not, in fact, this hard for everyone. The camp is crowded but full of life. You’ve never seen more happy kids in your life. There’s a sense of community on the wind.

So why can’t you feel it? Why is it so hard to connect with people? To participate in the fun? Everywhere you look there’s people but it’s all just so . . . lonely. You don’t fit. You’re lost.

Luke wakes up at night when the cabin door creaks open. He’s already tossing, so it’s no surprise he catches it. Unfortunately, he’s supposed to be a good counsellor—sneaking out at night is against the rules, and you’ve gotta reign the strays back in before they cause a ruckus. Sure, Luke’s not exactly a stickler for the law, but the least he owes is to make sure everyone’s safe.

Groaning, he draws himself out of the comfort of his bunk but doesn’t get far when he spots a familiar silhouette slipping out the door. He knows it’s you. He’s been hearing crying at night, and this is confirming his suspicions. It makes him ache in a million different places. Every time he thought about approaching you he shut himself down almost instantly, because who the hell wants some random guy coming up to them in the middle of the night and drawing attention?

This time, though, he’s a little worried.

It’s chilly tonight but not too bad, especially when you’re huddled up in a ball on a hill in front of the lake, grass tickling your ankles. Your tears keep you warm.

It’s a sorrow that feels bottomless. You don’t know what’s gotten into you. You don’t know why everything’s so hard.

There’s a scuffling of shoes, and your name is carried to you on the heels of a breeze. Oh God. There’s someone else here.

You sniff and smear your tears on the palms of your hands the best you can but a little part of you only wants to cry more now that you’re all anxious, and you only have a few seconds to collect yourself before you turn around and see Luke, your cabin leader, with furrowed brows. “Oh, h-hi, Luke.” It’s hard to ignore the splinter in your voice. You curse yourself a thousand times.

“Hey,” he says hesitantly, eyeing you in a way that makes you feel entirely exposed. “You, uh, you know you’re not technically supposed to be out here, right?”

You start to scramble to your feet with an apology on your tongue but surprisingly he laughs, a gentle sound, and beckons you to sit back down. “No, no, I’m not gonna get you in trouble or anything, just . . . letting you know.”

It’s uncertain if you should keep sitting, but you decide to because well, you’re already down here, and things can’t go lower than this. Luke comes to sit next to you and you stare out into the sea like your life depends on it. “Wanna talk about why you’re out here?”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“I mean,” Luke sighs, scooting a little closer to you. “Most people don’t up and leave in the middle of the night because they’re having a great time.”

The answer is too hard to say so you don’t reply.

Again, Luke sighs, and you try not to look at the shadow the moon casts on his admittedly handsome face. “It’s hard settling in, I know. It happens to a lot of people. I’ve . . . I’ve seen a lot of them, and it doesn’t get any easier.”

“Well it sure seems easier,” you snap, and your self-control flies away before you can stop it. “I have no idea why I can’t just suck it up and fit in here. Everyone seems so happy and it’s driving me nuts because I’m just so confused on why I can’t—why I can’t—process any of it.” Tears burn your eyes. “I’m just miserable. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

In the corner of your view, Luke’s face falls. “I’m your guide, you know that, right? I can help you.”

You sniff, embarrassingly pathetic. “I know.”

He comes even closer. “So why didn’t you ask?”

“Because I—I don’t know, you’re busy all the time with all the people in there, so I’m sure your job’s already stressful as is, so—”

“My job is to help you,” he says, a hand on your shoulder. “That’s what I signed up for. If you need something, I’m the one to ask.”

“I’m not sure you signed up for me crying like a baby,” you swallow, the ripples of the lake blurring together. “I mean, I’m like, older than half the kids here, and they’re all so much better than me. I’m not good at a—anything, and I’ve tried it all, and nobody’s claimed me yet, and I feel so weird and old and alone and . . .” It’s too much to think about so you dig the heels of your palms into your eyes, hoping the sting wards off the thoughts. “What if I’m nothing? Why am I here?”

You’re crying again, hiccuping into your hands. Shame sears into you. Luke’s arm curls around your shoulders and you realize how cold you are when he’s warm, so warm, and you want to cry even harder. You don’t even know him, but it’s the most tenderness you’ve received in what feels like years. “Hey, deep breaths,” he murmurs, rubbing your arm with his other hand. “It’s okay. Look at me.”

It takes a ridiculous amount of strength to heed him. His hand catches your cheek and you can’t bear to pull away. Something strange rustles in your stomach.

Luke’s taught instinct when faced with situations like these is to reassure that the Gods always have a plan. But he doesn’t feel like much of a liar tonight. Both his hands steady your face towards his, your skin damp and cold beneath his thumb. “It's not your fault. It always takes a little bit of time for people to get claimed, it’s never . . . well, you can never tell.”

“What if I don’t get claimed?” You say it so quiet you can pretend it was imaginary.

His eyes crinkle at the sides when he says, “Well, Hermes’ll always have a place for you.”

I’ll, Luke wants to say, I’ll. His father is not responsible for his cabin’s kindness.

“No one really prepares you for how overwhelming this is,” he continues, thumb rubbing the apple of your cheek. Your vision is clearer now, and Gods, he is handsome, isn’t he? Even when his eyes are forlorn. “It’s harder in a way when you’re older. More to leave behind. Less to look forward to. It’s easier when you have a friend. Or a great cabin head.” He tilts his head with a faint smile, “Lucky for you, I’m both.”

It almost makes you laugh, and that’s enough. “It’ll get easier,” he promises softly. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

Your cheeks burn. It’s hard to keep his gaze, so you blot at your eyes with your hands as Luke gently slides his off your face. “Thank you. Sorry for, um, all that. And the crying.”

He chuckles, “Don’t even worry about it.” You watch him rise in the throes of starlight. He offers you a hand. “Aren’t you cold?” He asks after pulling you up, and you sheepishly nod your head. He tosses you a sweater he’s been wearing, and it smells like firewood. Nostalgic, in a way. “I’m gonna poke around for some tea. Wait for me back at the cabin.”

Before he leaves, he squeezes your arm and that thing happens again in your stomach. “No need to be embarrassed, by the way. You can come to me anytime. I’m probably less busy than I look.” As he walked away, he added, “And don’t worry about the crying. You’re pretty either way.”

Either way. The tea doesn’t seem important anymore because your face is on fire.

Time reveals that Luke is right. He is a great cabin leader and a friend, and it’s hard to tell which he’s better at. You fall in with him right away. Soon enough, you’re drawn into your new life, so slowly you barely realize it’s happening. The days get shorter and you start wishing they were longer. The nights get easier. And when they’re not, Luke tucks you into his bunk and folds you in his arms until you drift off. You pick up a bow. A sword. Luke tells you to straighten your shoulders with a hand on the small of your back, and you swear it always lingers. You braid garlands of carnations for your cabin mates and they wear them with pride. It’s warm, your cheeks hurt from smiling, and things start to feel like home.

Until you’re claimed.

Now you’re a ghost in Hermes cabin, another empty bunk to be filled, and Luke stares at it until he can remember every last detail of what it looked like when it was yours. A beautiful, gentle daughter of Demeter, no longer in arms’ reach. He should’ve seen it coming.

He sees you with your siblings all the time. You’re so happy and he envies it. You belong there, he knows that, the way your face lights up at the dinner table and how you giggle when your half-sister presents you a flower. But sometimes your eyes wander, and something inside them dulls, until you look at him, too.

Luke’s place at camp is to be nothing but a funnel for lost campers to find their home. He’s a temporary stop in everybody’s journey. He’d made peace with it a long time ago. But here you are, messing it all up, because you still don’t leave him.

You beg him to give you another sword-fighting lesson. You sit next to him at bonfires. You pick him for partner camp activities. It doesn’t matter how many younger boys want to latch onto him for guidance—he sees you heading towards him, and he can’t imagine choosing anyone else.

But you’re always whisked away by your siblings, separated at meals and in sleep and in activities so it’s never, ever enough. Why did he delude himself into thinking you’d stay forever?

After weeks of distance from you, he’s elated when you have even a fraction of a conversation. “Hey, Luke!” You call out to him, and he finds you instantly. You’ve broken away from your siblings to get to him.

“Hey,” he smiles, and hopes he doesn’t look too pleased.

You lean a little towards his ear, and you smell like every wonderful thing in the world. “Can we hang out tonight? On the hill?” You’re a little bashful when you say it and it’s entirely endearing. Even now, you’re still so unsure. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” he says almost instantly, and it makes you look less nervous. “Yes. Absolutely. But don’t get caught breaking curfew now, you hooligan.”

Someone calls your name and you give a curt, playful nod. “Yes sir, camp counsellor sir!” He carries your laugh close to his heart until night falls.

You’re already there when he arrives, a vision in the moonlight before he even sees your face. “Hey, angel.”

When you turn around you look flustered. He won’t pretend like it doesn’t flatter him. “H—hi, uh, hello.”

There’s a moment where the world is still. The two of you, alone, for the first time in ages.

He sits down next to you, and it’s like the first time all over again. You get to talking, about your days, your anecdotes, your cabins. The strangeness of it all. “It’s so weird waking up in the morning and not having you yapping in my ear,” you remark, and he teasingly pushes your shoulder.

“Well, one of us has to be the talker, and it’s clearly not you,” he retorts.

You fiddle with blades of grass between your fingertips, weaving them together. “I’ll have you know I had a cabin-wide conversation about Capture The Flag yesterday, and I contributed greatly.”

“Oh, really?” He grins, knocking your elbow to steal your attention. “Look at you, coming out of your shell. I’m so proud.”

It’s hard to hold his gaze for more than a second. You’re afraid you’ll do something stupid if he keeps looking at you like that, but you almost want to. “Oh, shut up.”

He puts a hand on your shoulder. “No, I’m serious. I’m proud.” His eyes rake over your face. “You’re flourishing. You found your place.”

You can’t stop yourself from saying, “I kind of miss my old one.”

There’s a way he studies your expression that makes you feel utterly helpless. You wish you could dish it back to him, but you know you just look awestruck whenever you stare at him for so long. He’s quieter when he replies, “I miss it, too. A lot. Sometimes, I—” His face scrunches up like he just tasted something sour. “Nevermind.”

Frowning, you prod, “What? What is it?”

He sighs and turns to the horizon. This is the first time you’ve ever seen him struggle. “Sometimes, I wish you hadn’t been claimed. Sorry, that’s . . . that’s awful, I know.”

His surprise is evident when you say, “Sometimes I wish I wasn’t either.”

He turns back to you. “Really?”

“Really,” you nod, staring at the beads on his necklace. “You’re the only reason I’ve adjusted here at all.”

“Don’t sell yourself short.”

“It’s true. And I miss you.” A few months ago you would’ve kicked yourself for saying this. But Luke has a way of inspiring confidence in people.

“I miss you, too. So much.” He gently prys the grass you’ve been weaving out of your hands, now a small necklace. “But look at how talented you are. I’ll tell you, I’m lucky you’re still sticking around. For most people, Hermes is touch-and-go.”

Luke leans forward to tie the garland around your neck, and your pulse picks up. “This isn’t about Hermes, Luke,” you try to be firm but it comes out soft. “It’s about you.”

His hands stop fiddling and rest on your neck. When he speaks, you can feel his breath on you. And you have no idea that he’s been waiting to hear that his whole life. “What’s about me?”

It’s not fair, your inability to string sentences together only worsens right when a beautiful boy is this close to you. “Hermes isn’t—it’s not special because of your father, it’s special because of you.”

There is nothing else you can possibly think of saying with the way his fingers trace up your neck and hold your jaw. “Yeah, well,” he murmurs, “The only reason anything in my life is special is because of you.”

You don’t know if it’s a lie or not; you don’t care. His nose nudges yours. There’s a moment where you wonder if this is as close to Elysium you’ll ever get. Then he slips a hand to the back of your neck and pulls you to his mouth.

He kisses you in a near fury, then when he knows you’re not going anywhere, it’s the gentlest thing you know. It’s hard to believe this is even happening. Your hands weave through his curls but he holds you steady, and thank the Gods for that because you’re pretty sure you’re melting. You kiss again, and again, and again, until you genuinely think you’re going to pass out and you have to pull away.

“Aw, look at you,” he murmurs when you can’t meet his eyes, a playful lilt in his voice. “Still so nervous.”

“Would you shut up?” You press your face into the crook of his neck with a huge smile.

He kisses the top of your head. “Love to, angel.”

Luke Castellan is the son of a messenger. He’s supposed to believe he’s bringing the best of humanity to the Gods and glory above.

But screw the Gods. He’s keeping this one for himself.

#perrie’s fics #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #pjo #pjo series #pjo x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan fluff #heroes of olympus #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #charlie bushnell #this is far longer than i wanted it to be so sorry.#don’t usually write in 2nd person or present tense so i’m just trying not to look at it #the evil men with curly hair have won again

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eiightysixbaby · 2 months

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older! eddie finally having enough of reader calling him old man and he decides to show her how much of an old man he really is😏😏😏

“old man yeah?” he says grinning ear to ear when you whine pathetically underneath him, “wanna say that again?” he coos

18+ only pleaaaase!

The ball rolls down the lane, heavy and awkward, knocking into the pins and only sending a couple falling.

“That was possibly the worst throw of the night, Munson!” Robin says, smiling proudly when Eddie glares at her.

He groans, swiveling his arm to stretch out his shoulder.

“Not fair, this shit used to be easy. ‘S fuckin’ killing my shoulder tonight,” he comments, picking up his bottle of beer and clinking it with the top of Steve’s in a sort of pity toast to his bad turn.

“Oh, come on, old man!” you tease, standing to take your turn. You pick up your bowling ball from the bunch, giving Eddie a devious glance. “Let me show you how it’s done, sans any shoulder pain or back pain or pain in any other body part,” you smirk, earning a laugh from Steve.

“Ouch,” he says. “She’s got you there, Ed. Shoulder pain, really? When we’re not even halfway through this game.”

“Oh fuck off, Harrington. Wasn’t it two nights ago I saw you buying Epsom salts complaining about sore muscles? From a day at the pool with your kids?”

“Listen, the amount of times I had to pick them up and toss them into the water—”

You giggle, letting the two of them bicker as you take your turn. You let the ball go in a more elegant manner than Eddie, standing at the end of the lane as you wait to see the outcome. Sure enough, all ten pins fall with a scattered crash, and you bounce up and down eagerly.

“Woo!” Robin and Steve cheer, Eddie rolling his eyes as you high-five them.

“Alright, sweetheart, so you think you’re the superior bowler?” he asks, pulling you against him.

“I know I am, old man,” you draw out the last two words, pressing a polished finger to his chest. “Unless you really think you can show me up. But I wouldn’t want you hurting that shoulder while you try,” you pout, seeing the way the look in his eyes changes at your teasing. “Can’t have you doing too much… physical activity.”

“Alright, so that’s how you want to be, hm?” he asks, his voice low. “Just wait ‘til we get home, darling.”

The comment makes you shiver, his figure slipping away from you as soon as the words are out of his mouth. You watch him leave to get another drink, your mouth slightly agape as film reels run through your head, showcasing the activities that probably await you when you return home. Chewing on your lip, you return to your seat next to Robin, knowing full well you’re going to get under Eddie’s skin as much as you possibly can before the night is over.

Stumbling through the door just before midnight, a couple shitty bowling-alley-bar mixed drinks in your system, Eddie’s got his finger hooked in the waistband of your too-tight jeans, pulling you into him.

“That was real fucking cute, the way you kept mocking me all night,” he rasps, his warm breath fanning your ear, his lips barely grazing the shell of it. “If I had to hear you call me an old man one more time, I swear I was going to put you in the car and fuck you right there in the parking lot,” he says, kissing at your jaw.

You whine a little, tilting your head to the side to allow him better access.

“This is exactly what you wanted, isn’t it?” he asks, knowing the answer.

“Ed—” you pant, trying to paw at the buckle on his jeans.

“It is, god of course it’s what you wanted. I know your angles, baby,” he purrs, his voice dripping with lust.

He presses a hot kiss to your mouth, his tongue licking against your teeth. Your hands climb up his back, clawing at the fabric of his shirt as if your plan is to rip it off of him. He picks you up, carrying you down the hallway without breaking the kiss. He’s tossing you on the bed before he pulls his shirt off, exposing his modest muscles from years of hard work at the shop. You never tire of looking at the tattoos that decorate his pale skin, the ink fading with time.

He’s undoing his belt while you’re stripping bare on his bed, feeling your face heat when you catch him staring at your tits.

“Damn, I’m going to fuck the absolute shit out of you tonight,” he breathes, smiling boyishly, betraying his age despite the soft wrinkles in his face.

“Are you?” you ask, one final taunt, pushing him over the edge.

“Oh, sweetheart. G’na have you crying for me,” he says, moving to hover on top of you on the bed. “You’re not gonna be able to fucking walk tomorrow,” he murmurs, nipping at your earlobe.

It’s quick and without warning when he slips two fingers inside of you, making you mewl as your hands tangle in his hair. He curls them expertly, he knows your body like the back of his hand by now, knows exactly what to do to have you screaming for him.

His eager mouth licks and sucks on your breasts, tugging your nipples gently with his teeth as your back arches. Your body accepts a third finger from him easily, sucking him right in as wet, filthy noises fill the bedroom.

“Eddie,” you whine, already on the edge of your orgasm. Your breathing is heavy, eyes pinched shut beneath him as he works you to your breaking point.

You cum around his fingers with a cry, body shaking violently as he works you through it. You feel like you’re on fire, his touch igniting every inch of you. All you want is more.

“Old man, huh?” Eddie muses as you come down from your first high of the evening. “Looks like this old man still knows how to please. So do you wanna call me that again, sweetheart?”

You shake your head, knowing you’re already in for quite the night.

“Good,” he says, dipping down to kiss your lips, your jaw, your neck. “Cause we’re just getting started.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #older!eddie munson #older!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson blurb #leah’s got mail 💌

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l1tw1ck · 4 months

Text

My Liege

bottom!ftm!knight Xiao x top!masc!king reader

☆ Word Count: 1,128 ☆

AFAB Language Used | Don't expect a part two this was in the vault for months 😭

CW: Non-Con, Dacryphilia, Fingering, Virginity Loss, Belly Bulge, Riding, Squirting

Reader Discretion is Advised

As the king of Liyue, it's expected for you to have personal bodyguards. Between you and your husband, Zhongli, you have 4 knights.

Ganyu, Keqing, Shenhe, and Xiao. You typically take Xiao and Keqing due to their rationality and level heads. On trips to smaller and safer places you only bring Xiao.

These particular trips allow you to spend some time with your secret lover. You still think back on the first time you started your new relationship.

"May I ask where we're going, your highness?" Xiao asks, following you to an unknown location.

"Just somewhere to get away from the crowd. It was a little too much to handle today." You reply, leading him to a secluded and worn down building. "Do a perimeter check." You enter the place and look around, happy to find a chair that's still intact.

"Yes sir." Xiao looks around the area and defeats any hilichurls and slimes that were lingering around. After double checking, he stands in front of the entrance. You grab Xiao and force him to sit down with you, pushing his back against your chest.

"Sir?" Xiao whispers worriedly, assuming there's a person somewhere.

You lean your head down to talk in his ear. "Shh." Your arm is wrapped around his stomach so he doesn't move, your other hand tugging his tank top upwards.

Whenever you tell him to be quiet, he listens and doesn't say a word until you allow him to. So even as you push his top all the way up and grope his chest, he stays silent. Even if he isn't comfortable with it.

"Sorry but I have to use you, Xiao." You kiss his neck. "Zhongli doesn't have time for this kind of thing anymore..." Your hand moves to pull his pants down.

Xiao closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, hating the way you're touching him and how your bulge is pressing against his ass.

"Your body is so pretty, Xiao." You play around with his clit. "Do you know how pretty you are?" Your fingers move down to touch his increasingly wet cunt.

Xiao tries his best not to cry, he hasn't felt this weak in years. He hadn't cried and was convinced he became unable to since his friends died. He couldn't even remember what it was like to cry.

"Pull my pants down for me."

He shakily unzips your slacks and pulls them down. You grab his hips and force him to rub against your bulge. "Come on, do it yourself."

Xiao grimaces and starts rolling his hips. You go back to playing with his clit, making his movements inconsistent and shaky.

"Good boy." You groan and turn his head to look at you.

Xiao comes with a whimper, tightening around nothing. You bring him into a heated kiss, leaving him even more out of breath than he already was.

You turn Xiao to face you completely and bring his hand to the waistband of your boxers. "Do you want it, sweetheart? Tell me you want my cock inside you."

"I...I want your- your co...cock inside me." Xiao frowns and pulls your underwear off, your hard length is making Xiao nervous. "My liege...I'm- I've never done this before...it will hurt, and I need to have the strength to protect you.."

"You can take it, Xiao. I know you can." You grab his sides and hover his body over your cock.

"Y- yes, my liege. I apologize." Xiao's voice shakes. He sucks in a breath before you lower him down, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood as your tip pushes through his entrance. He tries his hardest to relax as you shove your full length into him, stretching out his virgin cunt.

Your cock twitches in excitement. "Shit, you feel better than Zhongli."

Xiao struggles to adjust to the foreign feeling, breaking out into uncontrolled sobs. He looks gorgeous with his tummy bulging, he's so small..

“Look at how deep I am inside you, sweetheart.” You make Xiao look at his stomach. He frowns, crying harder. You gently grab his cheeks with one hand and lift his face up. "You're even cuter when you cry." You say before bringing him into a kiss. You rub circles around his clit to make him more comfortable. Xiao whimpers and moans into your mouth, subconsciously moving his hips as you bring him pleasure. He's extremely inexperienced but he tries his best to kiss you back. He hates this but he wants to make you happy. You pull away and look at Xiao's embarrassed expression.

"Was it bad..?" He asks in between sniffles. He’s worried he disappointed you with his bad kissing skills.

"Of course not.." You kiss his wet cheek. "Do you want to make me feel good?"

Xiao nods and tries wiping his tears in an attempt to stop crying but they just keep flowing. You take his hands and place them on your shoulders. “Hold onto me and lift yourself up.”

He squeezes your shoulders and raises himself up while shaking.

“Now bring yourself down.”

Xiao sinks down onto your length, a soft whine leaving his trembling lips.

“Good boy, keep doing that.”

He buries his head in your shoulder, sobbing heavily as he attempts to ride you. You don't do anything to comfort him and let him cry his heart out.

“It hu- hurts-” He whimpers. “It hurts so much-” His strong facade crumbles to pieces.

“You’re doing so well, baby…doing so well for me.” You reassure him.

“Please…please help..” His body aches from crying so hard. He feels humiliated, he’s supposed to be strong and able to withstand pain but he can't handle it. He can't handle you.

“Aw, you’re too cute.” You place your hands on his small waist and take over, raising his body before slamming him down. His eyes roll back as you use his body like a fleshlight. He can just barely stay conscious.

Xiao sobs as you fuck him, overwhelmed by an intense mix of feelings. Humiliation, pain, and…pleasure. It feels…good? Xiao’s eyes widen. No, it feels amazing. He arches his back and comes, squirting like a fountain.

You pull him off you despite the very strong urge to keep fucking him. You don't want to overstimulate him, it’d be hard to explain why you had to carry your own guard home. Xiao looks at you with a dazed expression.

“You did so well, my knight.” You have him sit on your lap. You caress his cheek and he leans into your touch.

You give him time to recover before helping him get dressed. Your boner eventually went down and you never got to come but Xiao’ll make up for it next time.

#wicks🕯works #top male reader #male reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin x male reader #dark content #sub xiao #xiao x reader smut #xiao x male reader #xiao smut #xiao genshin smut #bottom xiao #sub character #ftm character

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angelltheninth · 8 days

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YOUUUUU... YOUU.... (　:ﾟ皿ﾟ) YOU'RE THE CULPRIT WHO CAUSED MY EXTREME HSR BRAINROT GRRRRR (/pos)

i loveloveloveloveloveLOOOOOOVE your writing first of all (*σ´ｪ｀)σ

AND SECOND OF ALL THE WAY U WRITE HSR MEN HAS MY TOES CURLING AND CRAMPING. anyways! we need more love for DR RATIO plsplsplsplspslsplspslsspdlshq

i am humbly requesting for headcanons of veritas as a lover (husband) sfw and nsfw pretty pls :3

(can i be 👾 or ⛸️ anon if any of those are available ?? if not, i give u free real estate to pick (ФωФ))

You got me, I'm guilty lol.

Pairing: Veritas Ratio x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, fluff, smut, domestic bliss, eating together, working too much, lazy sex, bathing together

A/N: I'm not smart, I can't do math at all.

Your husband Veritas Ratio wakes up before you and plans his entire day while making sure he leaves enough quality time to spend with you and leave enough time for a good night of rest

Your husband Veritas Ratio looks forward to you visiting him at work and bringing him a meal that you can eat together, he's had enough of those snack bars

Your husband Veritas Ratio always leaves notes around your home, he's organized but it doesn't make any sense to you cause you don't see the patterns he does so to you it's just chaos

Your husband Veritas Ratio mistook his work notebook for your notebook of potential baby names and spent whole day thinking about what a perfect mix of you two might be like, it was that night that you decided to try for a baby

Your husband Veritas Ratio gets carried away with talking about you, he gets carried away with everything so everyone at work knows so much about you now, which he hates but it's his own fault

Your husband Veritas Ratio remembers your anniversary so he can take the whole day off, but for that he worked extra hard the weeks before so he has a lot of stress to fuck out, you better be ready

Your husband Veritas Ratio likes to play a game where mumbles equations in your ear and then wants you to repeat them back to him, for each one you get correct you get an orgasm

Your husband Veritas Ratio blushes pretty easily when you wash his back, he likes to be in the bath with you, not the in his opinion, too soft side it draws from him so he needs to balance it with sucking on your tits while he rapidly moves his fingers in and out of your already wet pussy

Your husband Veritas Ratio spends a lot of time in his study so you get needy, prompting you to suck his cock under said desk until he loses his focus and has to pay attention to his loving wife

Your husband Veritas Ratio never thought he'd go crazy for your small baby bump but there he was, kissing and rubbing it while desperately fucking his cock between your soft, clenched thigh because he doesn't want to risk hurting the growing baby

Dividers by: @/cafekitsune

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happyhauntt · 1 month

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a grey day — spencer reid.

writing masterlist | askbox

─── summary: spencer meets the newest member of the department.

─── pairing: spencer reid x autistic!medical examiner!reader.

─── warnings: fluff, reader is autistic & a mom, spencer's iq gets slashed to sixty when he talks to pretty girls and it's my favourite thing. no use of y/n. reader is performing an autopsy so mentions of blood but nothing too graphic.

─── word count: 1.3k.

YOU KNOW IT'S A GREY DAY before you even manage to open your eyes.

And really, you’re expecting it ━ this whole week has been filled with pale pink and lime green with solid, unwavering turquoise blobs in the middle, because you started your new job on Monday and the apprehension, the excited, the nausea, they've all been stirring up inside you for days now.

Waking up to a grey day doesn't hit you as hard as it usually would.

Still, you feel sluggish when you drag yourself out of bed ten full minutes after your alarm has gone off. The shower is a no-go this morning ━ if you’re honest with yourself, the shower is a no-go most mornings, when your skin feels soft and sensitive and your brain can't cope with the idea of a barrage of hot water raining down on you ━ so you slap on some deodorant and spray some dry shampoo in your hair, tugging it up into a rough ponytail.

You take your time with your makeup, though; strawberry lipgloss and lots of concealer, a heaping of eyeliner and your favourite gold hoop earrings are exactly what you need to feel better. When you step out into the hallway wearing your comfiest black jeans and a jumper that's probably smart enough to pass the dress code, hearing your daughter giggling in the kitchen, the grey day lightens a little.

It gets even better when your sister-in-law presses a travel mug of iced coffee into your hands.

"Jackie, I fucking adore you," you say around a mouthful of delicious, soul-quenching caffeinated goodness. You’d half-expected Jackie to have something planned. Four years of living together means that Jackie tends to know about your off days before you do.

The other woman suppresses a smile, coupled with a sharp look. "There's a three-year-old right there!"

You snort, waving your hand nonchalantly. As if you don't have this conversation every single day. "Nellie knows not to repeat what I say." You turn to your daughter, your heart swelling three sizes as the little girl at the kitchen table looks up from her drawing. "Nell, baby, what am I always telling you?"

"Don't go home with strangers."

"Well, yeah, but I meant the other thing."

The little girl brightens, revealing a missing front tooth. "If Aunt Jackie won't say it, then I shouldn't say it."

You giggle, scurrying over to drop a kiss on your daughter's forehead. "Exactly right, my little love."

When you turn back toward the kitchen counter, your sister-in-law's face is painted with an affronted look, her mouth half-open. "I can say bad words!"

You wrinkle your nose. "I'll believe that when I see it."

By the time you leave the house, sliding into your car with a second cup of iced coffee in hand, the day has lightened to a pale blue. You hope it will stay that way.

"YOU LOOK SO TIRED, DUDE."

Well, alright, he'll admit it wasn't the first thing he was expecting to hear when he entered the coroner's office. It's been a while since he ventured down to the morgue, sure, but Dr. Peterson has never talked to him like that before, and he's fairly certain not that much has changed in the three-or-so weeks it's been.

And Spencer's observant. He prides himself on being able to notice things, tiny details other people seem to miss, things that are so obvious to him that he can't comprehend how normal people can't see them.

So if anyone asks, he'll never admit that it took a full twelve seconds before he realised that the girl in the white lab coat, elbow-deep in an open chest cavity, is definitely not Dr. Peterson.

"Uh..."

It's the most intelligent response he can muster in the moment.

"It's okay," you add, hardly bothering to look up from the corpse. "I'm tired too. And you're not the worst-looking guy in the room." You jerk your head at the dead guy on the table. "Although I'd say that's a pretty low bar, all things considered."

"Where's Dr. Peterson?"

"He retired. Or got a promotion, I think? Not totally sure." You shrug, raising an eyebrow at him. "I thought I'd met most of the department already, but I don't recognise you.” You tell him your name, squinting at him through your plastic glasses.”I’m the new... coroner, medical examiner, pathologist, dancing monkey? They didn't totally specify the position when they offered it, which I think says more about me than anything else."

Spencer blinks. He's not totally sure he's ever met anyone who could talk nearly as fast as him before. "Dr. Spencer Reid, Behavioral Analysis Unit. Nice to meet you."

"Oh, cool!" The liver in your hands gives a wet squelch as you drop it into a metal dish. "I'm under the BAU! I answer to your Section Chief, um, Agent Strauss? She's a little harsh, huh? I'd, uh, shake your hand, but..." You hold both hands up, mimicking a surrender, showing off the blue medical gloves slick with blood.

An inkling of a smile creeps onto Spencer's face. "I don't shake hands."

"That's fair," you say with a shrug. "Can I help you, Dr. Reid, or did you get lost looking for the cafeteria?"

“No, actually.” He remembers the files he was supposed to show you and reaches into his satchel. The intensity of your gaze is like lasers on his skin and he can’t help but fumble, almost sending a stack of documents scattering across the floor.

When he looks back up at you, cheeks flushed rosy, your stare hasn’t wavered even slightly. Amusement lingers in your eyes.

He clears his throat and holds out the files as if they are a peace offering. He doesn’t quite understand whether a battle has been fought, but he definitely feels like he lost one. “Hotch— uh, Agent Hotchner sent the Howard County ME’s report on the Richardson case. He wanted you to look it over and sign off before they file it for the District Attorney.”

You nod at him. The corner of your mouth quirks a little at his stuttering. You’re not sure you’ve ever been so immediately endeared to somebody before, but there he is, blinking at you like a deer caught in headlights. It’s so adorable.

“Sure, I can do that,” you say. “Just pop it on the desk over there and I’ll get on with it when I’m done here. Can’t get any bodily fluids on the paperwork, y’know? That’d be a nightmare.”

The volume of your laugh startles him, and he jerks slightly. The sound of it is loud and warm and it should really freak him out, considering you’re wrist-deep in a cadaver and cackling like a maniac, but it doesn’t. It’s actually kind of sweet.

“If that’s all, Dr, Reid, I’d like to finish rooting through this guy’s insides so I can sew him back up.” Your words are an obvious dismissal, but he doesn’t feel offended, not with the kind smile still adorning your features.

He nods and backs away. His feet feel a little numb. “Sure thing. I’ll, uh, catch you later. Have fun!”

“I’m sure I will.”

You sound like you’re about to laugh again. Have fun, really? He knows he’s fairly inept when it comes to women, but have fun? He scurries out of the morgue and back into the land of the living, and as Spencer boards the elevator all he can think is that he’s so glad Derek wasn’t there to witness that.

He’s certain he’d never live it down.

Meanwhile you resume your autopsy with an odd, fuzzy feeling in your chest. You start to hum beneath your breath, a song that must have played on the radio while you were driving to work.

Your grey day feels a little pink at the edges.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds imagine #* chapter update.

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sluttywoozi · 2 months

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Interlude No. 2 | ljh x reader

Interlude No. 2: There's just something about waking up to Jihoon hard against you at 3 AM.

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~1.9k | Pairing: ljh x reader | Genre: smut

Warnings: fingering, marking, size kink, big dick!jihoon, piv sex, creampie

Reader Notes: has breasts and a vagina

When you wake, the bedroom is still coated in darkness but for the moonlight spilling through the edges of your curtains.

There’s a heavy arm thrown over your waist, a warm body pressed against your back, and something hot and large digging into your ass. Tilting your wrist, you check your watch, suppressing a groan when you see that it’s barely three AM.

You’re not exactly sure what woke you, but you think it might have been the hips rolling into yours, or maybe the warm breaths puffing out onto your bare shoulder, or maybe even the mumbles and little groans sounding in your ear. Regardless of the cause, you’re awake now, and it’s only fair that the one who dragged you out of slumber wakes too.

“Jihoon,” you whisper and turn your head slightly, just enough to make out the french braids you wove into his hair before bed. His face is slack with sleep, but he lets out a low hum and shifts closer to you, the arm draped over your body bending at the elbow so he can cup one of your breasts in his big hand.

His cock twitches against you, leaking precum that seeps into your pajama shorts, and your body responds to his immediately, heat flooding your belly as arousal starts to gather between your legs.

“Jihoon,” you try again, wrapping your fingers around his wrist and speaking a little bit louder.

He shakes his head, burying his face in your shoulder with a low groan and squeezing your breast as if to soothe himself. If his dick wasn’t so hard, you’d let him keep sleeping, well aware that he needs all the rest he can get, but there are only two ways this can end.

One, he can keep sleeping and grind himself to completion, leaving you both sticky with his cum.

Or two, he can wake up enough to fuck you and fill you up, then go back to sleep.

He’ll probably even rest better with option two, and you won’t have to get up and somehow work his boxers and your pajama shorts off to throw them in the wash.

With your mind made up, you try one final time, “Jihoon.”

He startles behind you, taking in a deep breath and tilting his head up to stare at you, mumbling, “S’wrong?”

“You’re, like, hard as fuck right now. Do you want to-”

You haven’t finished speaking but he’s already releasing your breast and reaching down to tug his cock out of his boxers. You lift your thigh for him, feeling him push the seat of your shorts to the side so he can glide his dick along your bare, wet pussy.

You expect him to slide home, but he tucks himself up against your ass instead, working a hand between your thighs and slipping first one, then two fingers inside of you. You make a questioning noise that ends in a moan as his fingertips graze the patch of nerves along your front wall, wondering why he’s drawing this out.

“Gotta open you up, baby, I didn’t fuck you last night,” he murmurs, spreading his fingers before letting a third join them, the stretch good but not perfect like his cock would be.

You whimper anyway, clenching around his fingers as they prod into your sweet spot, your leg beginning to tremble from both pleasure and the time spent holding it aloft. “I want you inside.”

“Just a little longer, baby,” he presses a kiss to your shoulder, nipping at the skin and making you shiver against him. You don’t know if he’s aiming to make you cum or not, but you’re nearing the edge anyway, his agile fingers like magic inside of you.

It doesn’t help that you feel so safe, so secure, bundled up against him like this, his muscled arm laying over your hip and his toned chest pressing against your back. It especially doesn’t help that he’s started whispering to you, or maybe to himself, little sentences like, “So fucking hot and wet, shit,” and “God, I wanna feel you on my cock,” and, “I was dreaming about you, that’s why I’m so goddamn hard.”

“What was,” a sharp gasp interrupts you as his thumb swivels to strum your clit. “What was happening?”

“It was our honeymoon, and you were riding me on the balcony, bouncing on my dick like you were made for it, fuck,” he forces out, curling his fingers hard to dig into your g-spot as if you’re to blame for the dream.

“We-We’re not married, Jihoon,” you breathe out, trying not to buck your hips into his touch as he brings you higher and higher.

“Not yet,” he mutters, muffling it in your shoulder. You hear him anyway, turning your head to try to get a look at his face just as he starts moving his fingers even faster.

“What does that me-”

You’re tipping over the edge before you can finish your question, the fact that you even had one escaping your mind as it unspools and reforms in the same of him. He doesn’t help you through it like he normally does, dragging his fingers out of your fluttering walls much to your vocal displeasure.

Before you can summon the words to complain, he’s holding your thigh up with his wet-with-you hand and tilting his hips back, aligning himself with your aching entrance. He pushes inside you with less finesse than usual, starting off slow for the first couple inches then rolling his hips and shoving the rest in. You attempt to breathe through the fullness, reaching down to cover your lower belly where you can almost imagine him protruding, his dick is that big inside of you.

It always is, and as much as you wanted him to skip the foreplay before, you’re glad he didn’t.

He lets your thigh down, covering your hand with his and pressing until you’re sure you can feel him moving, groaning to you, “Fucking tight, shit.”

You can only moan in response, a wavering, thready sound, your senses overwhelmed with him. He’s all around you, his scent, his voice, his body heat, and with him inside of you too, it’s almost more than you can take.

There’s no build up, no testing thrusts, he just starts fucking into you hard and fast, the slap of his hips against your ass loud in the quiet darkness of your bedroom. The sound of the city below you is dull white noise compared to his huffs and groans and the whimpers that get punched out of you with every movement of his.

He doesn’t let up for a moment, his hips rolling into yours and his cock bullying through your clenching walls to tap your g-spot, his hot breaths of exertion warming the back of your neck. He’s still holding your hand down, but his fingers have woven between yours, started pulling you back into his thrusts so each impact is that much more devastating.

You feel mindless with it, your mouth stuck open and your eyes squeezed shut, tears gathering on your lash line as he fucks you like he’ll never have the privilege again. You expected something lazier, something softer when you woke him and offered yourself, but he seems desperate and needy, as if his dream showed him something he wants but can’t have.

You wish you could reassure him, but you can’t remember what his dream was about, even though you know it shocked you a little bit. He’s just too big inside of you, he takes up all the space in your cunt and your heart and your head. Thoughts aren’t a luxury you can afford when he’s driving into you like this, when he’s jerking inside you and spitting precum, when he’s sucking marks and muffling moans in the curve between your neck and your shoulder.

Everything about him turns you on, lights you up, makes you want him more, and that’s something that will never change.

Something else that will never change is how fucking easily he can make you cum. As soon as he pulls his hand away from yours and sinks it between your thighs, you know you’re a goner. His talented fingers swirl circles into your clit, your moans growing higher and higher until you’re keening for him, your face crumpled in pleasure and your pussy clamping down on his cock.

“Fuck, that’s it, baby. Cum for me, I want you to cum,” he begs, his voice thin and oddly emotional.

You can’t do anything but cry out and let yourself shatter, your body attempting to curl into itself before he snakes his other arm under you and pulls you back to rest against his chest.

“Stay close, I need you close, please,” he bites out through gritted teeth, his fingers still hard at work between your thighs. You’re on the brink of another release before you can even take a breath, every buck of his hips near fatal as you shudder in his arms.

You’re grateful they’re anchoring you like this, holding you to him, because you feel like you might float away, might fade into mist and return to the stars if he doesn’t give you his cum right this second.

“Jihoon, cum inside me. Fill me up,” is all you can manage, the words sounding jumbled and muted through the roaring in your ears, though you do make out him swearing as he holds you tighter and lets himself go.

His orgasm is what brings your own, the sensation of his cock jumping against your walls as it pumps white hot cum inside of you sending you into a spiral that only Jihoon can pull you out of. You try to count the seconds as they pass you by, but you keep losing track, your brain still flowing with oxytocin and your body light as air.

You’ve almost fallen back to sleep when he starts pulling out, making you whine and reach back for his hips, wanting to keep him inside.

“We can’t sleep like this, baby,” he murmurs to you, kissing over the marks he’d left on your neck and rubbing your stomach with a warm, large hand.

Begrudgingly, you release him, rolling onto your back when he frees you from his arms and shifts to the edge of the bed. He stands and walks to the bathroom slowly, his boxers skewed and his cock still out, before returning with a washcloth for you. He carefully tugs your pajama shorts down and cleans you up, tossing them and the washcloth into the hamper along with his boxers.

You’re drifting when you hear drawers opening and closing, barely conscious enough to lift your hips for him as he pulls new shorts up your legs. You wake up a bit when he snuggles in behind you, your body turning in his arms and shifting down the bed so you can bury your face in his chest.

You feel Jihoon press a kiss to the top of your head and smooch his pec in response, promptly falling back to sleep now that you’re safe in his hold.

AN: inspired by the dream i had about woozi last night and how very much i wish it had been dirty for once

My Masterlist

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kimis-gloves · 30 days

Text

sour - charles leclerc

word count : 780 - oneshot

hehe a lil charlie smut>:)

warnings: morning sex, dirty talk, petnames, if you squint very hard then angst?? but not rlly, softdom!charles, slight degrading, post/pre shower sex.

as early in the morning as it was, you hear Charles turning on the shower, humming whatever song he has stuck in his head from the never ending party you two went to last night. through your raging headache, you miss the warmth of your boyfriend so you stumble your way into the connecting bathroom, still in his hoodie that you managed to change into at 4:30 in the morning. Charles, already in the shower, washing off the sticky champagne & sweat. Coming p2 in Australia was something to be proud of, but he didnt feel proud. he hoped to do better next time as he hears y/n stumble her way into the bathroom, quickly going for a pee before speaking to charles through the glass doors.

“Good morning charles, ill start us some coffee”

“Thank you my love”

as you head out to make charles his favourite way of coffee, he finishes his shower and steps out to dry himself off and thats when you walk back in, coffees in hand. he looks absolutely amazing like this. hes stood infront of the large window, in nothing but a towel. the water beading off of him and dripping out of his hair. you set down the coffees and make your way towards the drool worthy man thats infront of you. you wrap your arms around his shoulders as you leave soft and wet kisses along his jawline. already being in somewhat of a sour mood, charles doesn’t appreciate your teasing and takes things into his own hands as he quickly grabs you by your hips and bends you over the counter top, almost knocking off the now close to cold coffees.

“Char-“

“A-Ah, no talking cherie, just let me take care of you right now~”

and with that you did. quickly shutting up for him as you let the man take however much control he desired from you. you thank him for any type of touch that he gives you. he goes to quickly pull down your panties, when he realizes you dont even have any on.

“What a dirty girl you are cherie.. no panties and already dripping out of your cunt like this? My my, im not sure what i should do with such a whore like you.”

he aggressively puts a hold into your hair and pulls you up to be face close to charles, breathing rapidly as he whispers,

“dont move, dont make a sound or else you will regret it. listen as i say and you wont have to suffer, am i clear darling?”

“Yes c-Charles” you say with a whine

“Hm, i dont think i was” he mutters, slowly sliding his tip along your slick-coated pussy. you whine again when he quickly smacks the side of your thigh “No noise, slut” he growls before shoving his 2 fingers into your mouth, allowing you to lick and spit on them. pulling them out and away from your mouth he instead inserts them both into your cunt.

fighting back moans, you clench your walls around charles’ fingers, letting him know how much you want to be filled his his cock.

“mon amour you feel so good, i cant wait to fill you with my cum.” he grumbled into your ear as he finally inserts his cock into your aching cunt, he bottoms out with a low hum into your ear. he slowly grinds into your pussy, drawing out lewd sounds from both of you. both you and Charles have given up on trying to keep you quiet as he just gets completely lost into your body. he sets a firm & steady pace, nearly knocking you out as he suddenly slams into you, the noise that leaves both your and his mouth is something that belongs in a porno. he wraps around your torso, one hand grabbing and pinching onto your nipple and the other reaching down to your throbbing clit. the sudden sensation is enough to set you over and soon enough you find yourself cumming all over his cock and fingers, him quickly following after as the tight & wet feeling on his cock is just too good not to cum from.

slowly pulling out of you, he’s planting kisses all over your body. turning the shower back on as he guides you in, making sure the water is the perfect temperature and that you aren’t going to topple over.

“my love, i should probably go remake these coffees” Charles laughs, placing a kiss onto your temple. as you watch Charles put his clothes on and leave the bathroom, coffees in hand, you couldn’t be more thankful to have such a perfect boyfriend like him.

a/n: i hope u enjoyed❤️ this was just something small. likes & reblogs always appreciated ❤️❤️

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augustinewrites · 5 months

Text

cw: suggestive content, fem!reader

“come for a stroll with me.”

“i can’t right now,” wriothesley tells you, glaring down at the mess of papers atop his desk.

it was not in your nature to be petulant, but the over dramatic sigh that falls from your lips has him believing otherwise.

though he wanted nothing more than to abandon the day's duties and join you on the surface for an afternoon stroll, the lord of the fortress of meropide was a very busy man. he had a prison to run.

“fine,” you say, though your exasperated tone indicates that his refusal was anything but.

“you’re the head doctor,” he reminds you, gesturing to the stacks of paper on his desk. “you know how it is.”

“actually i don’t, because i don’t do all my work at the last minute.”

“you have sigewinne, who does more than half of it for you.”

“sigewinne likes paperwork,” you argue, settling yourself atop the corner of his desk. “you could have a whole team of people to help you with these things, but you’re too picky to let them.”

“they don’t do it right,” he huffs, pen scratching a quick signature across the bottom of the topmost report before shuffling it aside. “i know this place better than any accountant whose only concern is balancing a book.”

“fair enough,” you shrug, picking up and thumbing through his reviewed missives with about as much interest as one watching paint dry. he looks down just as a sneaky smile appears on your lips. “i heard it’s quite nice outside.”

“too warm,” he mutters distractedly, too lost in the process of estate management to chit-chat about the weather.

“perhaps i should shed a few layers before heading out,” you hum thoughtfully, fanning yourself lightly with his papers.

wriothesley looks up, about to scold you, but the words dry up before they pass the tip of his tongue.

you certainly hadn’t outfitted yourself as a future duchess might, forgoing a frilly, structured gown for one of his own loose white button downs that’s tucked into closely tailored trousers.

it’s with great intrigue that he watched your free hand undo the top two buttons of your (his) shirt, revealing the delicate swatch of skin over your neck and teasing him with a peak at your cleavage.

you catch him staring as you set his papers down, eyes flashing with delight. like a predator that’s successfully cornered its prey. wriothesley - in a last ditch escape attempt - quickly looks away, clearing his throat and staring hard at the report in front of him.

he could not get distracted today. not with so much work to do.

but you, oh you. you hop off his desk, walking around it to drape your arms around his shoulders, pressing a light kiss to his cheek. “i suppose i’ll see you later then.”

he mumbles a reluctant goodbye but your lips linger, brushing dangerously close to that sweet spot behind his ear.

do not give in, his brain instructs, even though it’s getting harder and harder to process the words in front of him with every slide of your hands.

schooling his features into a calm mask, wriothesley draws a deep, steadying breath. it hardly manages to settle him because archons, you were going to be the death of him. he’s always considered himself a steadfast person with an immense focus that’d been built up from a young age. when he set his mind to a task, he was a difficult man to distract.

you and your wiles have always been proof of otherwise.

“just be back before our audience with neuvillette this afternoon.” he tells you, doing his best to ignore the heat rising to his face.

finance reviews, surveillance reports, correspondence. finance reviews, surveillance reports, correspondence. finance reviews, surveillance reports, cor–

“stop it,” he demands when your fingertips glide across his chest, fiddling with the knot of his tie.

“why?” you ask, voice cloyingly innocent. “am i distracting you, your grace?”

“no.”

you clearly do not believe him in the slightest.

“care for a wager then? because i bet i can distract you by the end of the day.”

wriothesley knows that betting, wagering, or gambling against a former member of the house of the hearth is never a good idea. it’s a dangerous one.

he leans back, arms crossed over his chest as he attempts to salvage what’s left of his dignity. “what are the stakes?”

_____

you know your boyfriend. it isn’t hard for you to wind him up and get him right where you want.

which was on top of you.

or underneath you. it depends on the day.

there were no real intricacies in seducing the mighty and fearsome duke. it wasn’t even that hard to fluster him, because a simple brush of your fingers against his was enough to make his cheeks flush with colour.

you just needed to draw him out a little. you’re on the offense, and you know all the right moves required to force him to engage with you.

in an effort to avoid you and (attempt to) win the bet, wriothesley had locked himself in his office for most of the day. it worked out well for you, because you’d been able to sneak into his quarters holding a shopping bag from chioriya boutique.

your plan is put into motion when you hear the duke stomp up the stairs to get ready for the meeting with neuvillette.

“get back behind that screen,” he instructs when you poke your head out from behind the divider. he’s even slapped a hand over his eyes, intent on staying focused on the task at hand.

wriothesley huffs when you laugh, turning his back to you as he rummages through the dresser.

he’s murmuring the little rhyme he uses to knot his tie, so focused on the task that he doesn’t notice the crinkling of the tissue paper as you pull your new…outfit out of its bag.

“hey,” he asks. “are you almost ready?”

“i just need you to lace me up,” you call back, shrugging the shoulders of your gown down a touch before stepping out from behind the divider.

you turn to show him the undone laces of your gown, watching his reflection in the mirror. he’s regaled in the fineries of the duke, having swapped out his shirt for a clean black one and fastened a fine fur coat over his shoulders. you appreciate his appearance greatly, but even more so when he finds your little surprise.

“is this…new?” he asks quietly, gloved fingers brushing undone laces aside to get a better look at what hides underneath your dress.

it was new. a custom set, in fact. your duke likes you in dark lace and sculpted pieces.

he inhales sharply when you take his wrist, gently guiding his hand to one of the slits in the side of your skirt.

wriothesley breathes your name softly when his hand drifts up your dress and settles on your hip, meeting nothing but skin.

a smug, satisfied grin threatens to break out on your face when you feel his lips brush against your shoulder. you had him on the ropes now. he’s just so easy–

his sweet movements cease suddenly and he pushes you away gently.

“you almost got me,” he laughs, quickly removing his hands from underneath your dress. he grips the laces, deft fingers making quick work doing it up and pulling it taut and tight to hide the tempting lace of your brassiere.

“but–”

“go put your underwear back on,” he demands, delivering a firm smack to your rear.

defeated but not the slightest bit deterred, you reluctantly reach for the abandoned garment as your boyfriend glares at the opposite wall. but losing the battle doesn’t mean losing the war.

“should i put on the garter belt too?”

_____

downstairs, neuvillette sighs, cursing his better-than-average hearing.

at least you’d had the sense to leave out some good tea.

#wriothesley x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #wriothesley x you #genshin impact fluff

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iamasimperyk · 3 months

Text

Lonely -Rafe Cameron

Summery: Rafe finds you, a Pogue, crying at the beach.

Warnings: Fluff, Cursing, Crying, Not proof-read, English is not my first language

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

Part 2

Why was everyone around you in a relationship? It wasn't like you were desperate to get a boyfriend, but somehow it made you feel insecure that you didn't have one. You started to wonder why no one wanted you. Was it because you were ugly? Was it because you weren't someone who liked to go out and party? Or was it because you were too inexperienced?

You didn't want to bother any of your friends with your thoughts, and it wasn't like you had a chance to do so. Since all of them were in a relationship now, no one has time for you anymore. And that's how you found yourself crying on the beach on a Saturday night, alone.

You loved the beach and sometimes you also liked to be alone. From time to time you needed to think things through and just needed some alone time, but right now, you just wished for someone to hug you. You felt lonley and the fact that your friends and every other person on the island would be at a party right now, didn’t make things better.

Pogues and Kooks together at the Bonefire never ended good, so it was the perfect excuse not to go. At least that‘s what you told your friends. They didn‘t even question it, to busy being all lovey dovey in their relationships.

A tear rolled down your cheek as you thought about your friends. You were happy for them, but somehow you longed to feel the rush of a relationship too. You wanted to be kissed, held, and loved.

The fact that you were a little jealous of them made you even more upset. A good friend shouldn’t be jealous, but happy.

You were deep in your thoughts when a voice suddenly pulled you out of them, “Ey!”

You turned around, quickly wiping away your tears.

You couldn’t believe your eyes. The one and only Rafe Cameron were walking towards you. The last time you had seen him was on the ship, where he nearly shot you.

“Oh, look who it is.” He gave you one of his famous smirks, now standing in front of you.

“What are you doing here, Rafe?” You mumbled, not even looking at him.

Rafe caused nothing but trouble the last few months. He was the reason why the Pogues and you lost the gold. He was the reason why the Pogues and you lost the Cross. He was the reason why John B and Sarah had been missing.

“Could ask you the same question. Never saw you without your little friends.” He chuckled, sitting down next to you.

“Well, I didn’t want to attend the Bonefire, but they did.” You shrugged, looking at the sunset in front of you.

“Didn’t want to go either, too old for the shit I guess,” He sighed to which you let out a humourless laugh, “Rafe Cameron is too old to get wasted? Yeah, great joke.”

“Believe what you want, I don’t care, but at least I am not the one sitting here because my friends don’t have time for me anymore.” He hissed.

It wasn’t wrong what he said, but how did he know?

After he saw the look of confusion in your face he spoke up again, “It’s obvious that they don’t have time for you anymore. They are all dating now and you are the only single one.”

Once again, tears welled up in your eyes, but you quickly blinked them away. "Are you observing my friend group, Cameron?"

He answered without any emotion, "Do I look like someone who cares about your friend group? It's obvious you're trying too hard to get their attention."

Why didn't your friends see your efforts when even Rafe Cameron did?

“But lucky for you, out of your little group of Pogues, I tolerate you the most," He said after a few seconds.

“Hard to believe since you wanted to kill me a few months ago.” You muttered, drawing little shapes into the sand.

“Oh, come on. I didn’t want to kill you, I just had to get back what belonged to me. The cross,” He started to explain himself, “But it doesn’t matter since I am a new person now.”

“I see, and why’s that?” You raised your eyebrows.

“My dad isn’t here anymore so I am the boss now.” He told you proudly.

��And you cut your hair.” You mumbled quietly, but he heard you regardless, “Looks more mature.”

You nod, “I like it.”

“Did Y/n Y/l/n just complimented my hair?” He asked in a sarcastic tone.

You couldn’t help but laugh a little, “Why are you really here, Rafe? You saw that it was me sitting here. Why would you come anyway?”

"I left the Bonfire because it was shit, and as I was walking towards my car, I heard someone sobbing. At the Bonefire I saw your friends with my sister, but I couldn't see you. When I saw you sitting here, I knew that something was wrong," he confessed while scratching his buzzed head.

“I appreciate that you came down to talk to me, Rafe, I really do.” You smile a little at him.

It's hard to believe that someone actually came to look after you. Not just anyone, but someone who was supposed to hate you. This person had made your life a living hell for the past few months. Despite this, the last half hour has been the best you have had in a long time.

“Look I am not good with all this emotional shit, but you wanna tell me why you were crying?” He asked carefully.

“Promise me not use it against me?” You asked in the most innocent voice Rafe has ever heard.

He answered with a short ‘promise’ before you started to explain how left out you have felt the past few weeks.

As you finished explaining, tears streamed down your face while Rafe held you tightly.

“Thanks for listing, Rafe. I am sorry I ruined your night,” You wiped away your tears, your eyes puffy from all the crying.

“You haven’t ruined my night, Y/n, actually you made it a lot better. I would probably have stayed at home all alone, trying to drown my thoughts in whiskey.” He told you honestly.

"Better than listening to me whine about my friend's relationships," you said as you hiccuped.

He shook his head, "At least you feel better after telling someone your problems, and I got to hold you."

You smile up at him, “You are happy to hold me? A Pogue?”

He chucked lightly, “Who would have thought.”

“Well, I also didn’t imagine myself at the beach, lying in the arms of a Kook.” After those words left your mouth there was silence.

The two of you were staring at each other until Rafe leaned down. You closed your eyes, your lips were nearly touching when someone called out your name.

“Y/n, is that you?”

#Rafe #Rafe Cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe x y/n #rafe x you #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fluff #rafe obx #obx #fluff #pogue #rafe fanfiction #outerbanks rafe

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whatsk-poppinhomies · 11 months

Text

Pairing : Lee Felix x F!Reader TW : pregnancy ; miscarriage ; major angst ; Word Count : 3.5k

“Felix!” You squealed as his arms wrapped around your waist from behind, his nose nuzzling against your cheek as the softest chuckle filled your ears that his lips were right beside. Kisses were peppered against any surface he could reach as he swayed your body’s side to side, your own instinctively relaxing against him. “Remember what I said, right?” You murmured, tilting your head up to glance at him, his eyes twinkling with excitement even though he was dramatically pouting at you.

“I know, I know.” He grumbled, his thumb absentmindedly drawing circles against your stomach. “No telling STAY until the 5th month…” He sighed, his chin falling against your shoulder. “I’m just so excited, and I know they’ll be just as excited as I am when they hear about it.”

You knew he was excited, you had recorded his reaction when you had surprised him with the news that you were pregnant on his birthday. The little “Congratulations Dad” card slipped in between the birthday card that you had gotten him, and you were so glad that you had decided at the last minute to film him opening the card. His reaction was genuine and precious, and the tears that filled his eyes as he looked up at you with a questioning smile, awaiting your reassurance that it wasn’t just some prank before jumping off the couch and engulfing you in a hug… It had all been enough to bring tears to your own eyes as you continued to assure him that yes, you really were pregnant.

Sometimes you felt that he was even more excited than you were, and you were only just now entering your 3rd month. Felix had all but started the nursery for the baby by now, the names had already been picked out, and while you wanted the news to be kept from the fans just a little while longer, he was all too eager to tell the guys who shared in his joy about a new family member. He was the best partner to have, when you were feeling your worst and the symptoms were downright awful, he was always there to do his best to help you feel better. That is, until he had to go on tour.

The announcement of the upcoming world tour was unexpected, and even Felix seemed a little taken back by it. The last thing he planned on doing during your pregnancy was traveling around the world, but you tried to think positively about it, hoping that your positivity would brush off on him and he’d be less reluctant to leave.

“So you’re sure you don’t need me to stay here with you?” Felix posed the question as he stood by the front door, a duffle bag swung over his shoulder. Even though the question was meant to make it seem like you’re the one who’d need him to stay, both of you knew that he wanted you to say yes, he wanted you to give him any reason you could to stay with him. As much as you wanted him to stay though, you knew that it would be selfish, especially when so many fans wanted to see him.

“I’m sure, babe.” You said the words through little bouts of giggles as you leaned against the wall, waiting to say those final goodbyes before he was gone. It used to be extremely hard to watch him leave, and you’d usually be the one trying to make up excuses just to delay his departure, but you were used to it now. It’s not that it wasn’t sad still, but after 4 years together, you were better at it, you both were, and you had figured out how to work around the time differences so that you could call each other and at least video chat once a day. This time would be no different, you both knew that. “Plus, by the time you finish the tour and you’re able to come back home, I’ll be close to 6 months, you won’t have to wait so long.”

His head nodded, and as if you had just told him you were pregnant again for the first time, his eyes gleamed with just something else to get excited over. “Alright… You’re right, and then I only have to wait 3 months… Perfect… I don’t like waiting… I just want to meet them…” His eyes formed into thin crescents as his smile widened, his bag dropping to the floor as he walked over to you, his hands cupping your cheeks before pressing a deep kiss to your lips, the suddenness of it giving you a headrush. “I’ll miss you, angel… Keep yourself safe…” He lowered down just enough to brush his fingers along your stomach before giving it a small kiss that had your heart swelling. “And you stay safe too, my little nugget. Don’t give your mom too much trouble.” He rested his forehead against your tummy for a second, letting out a soft sigh, one last opportunity for you to just tell him to stay, but the silence out lasted the opportunity and he slowly got back to his feet, smiling softly to you. “Make sure you send me daily belly pictures, and video call me at doctors appointments so I can be there… Okay? Please?”

Even with your reassurance, you knew that this was hard for him. This was the most exciting time of his life, not just career wise, but now at home as well. His family was growing, and he had to leave you when you were most vulnerable. It made him feel awful that he wouldn’t be there for you, and no amount of it’s okay’s would make him feel any less awful. It would be rough, but not without reward. He knew that once he got home he’d be with you again, and he wouldn’t have to wait as long either.

“Felix, we’re about to go on…” Hyunjin whispered, his hand waving in front of the younger member's face to get his attention away from the video call that he was currently on with you. “We have like five minutes, and I know that you’re not going to just hang up on her, you need five minutes just to say goodbye because you do that back and forth thing that’s really cringy.”

Felixs face scrunched up with embarrassment as his cheeks were flushed a light pink, his head turning to look at Hyunjin. “I do not take five minutes just to say goodbye, and we do not do the cringy back and forth thing. We promised we wouldn’t be like that…” His head quickly turned back to the screen when he heard your snicker that you attempted to muffle. “We don’t do that… Do we?”

Your lips pursed and slightly turned up at the corners. “What if I said it totally isn’t cringe and I love our 5 minute back and forth goodbyes.” You posed, but your laugh sounded through the speakers as his head fell back and he let out a groan, especially when Hyunjin started laughing too, patting the younger man's shoulder and giving him an I told you so before walking off. “You really need to get out there though…”

Now that Hyunjin was out of the room, Felix could return to the matter of the call, and as annoying as his hyung was at the moment, it was a welcomed distraction from what the two of you were talking about. “Call me… text me when you get to the doctors… let me know what’s going on, please.” He whispered, his stress sky high, the first time in a while that he’s felt this way before a show and it wasn’t even due to going in front of thousands of fans that he felt this way.

“I will…” You sighed softly, and even though he could see it in your eyes, in the way you sat on the couch, you were just as worried as he was, you still tried your best to ease his mind and comfort him. “It’s probably nothing though. I’m sure it’s normal. The doctors are probably gonna think I’m silly for coming in for something as small as this.” Your weak chuckle filled the otherwise silent room, but Felix couldn’t laugh with you, he was panicking, and the worst part was that he was on the complete other side of the world right now when he wanted nothing more than to be with you, especially right now.

“I’m serious, angel… I don’t care if I’m in the middle of dancing. Call me, let me know what’s going on.” He said, more sternly now as the knocks came against his door letting him know time was up. “I love you, I love you so much… And I love our little nugget too. Be safe, okay? Promise me that you’ll be safe, that you’ll let me know.”

Your head nodded quickly as you blew him a quick kiss. “I’ll text you, pinky promise. I love you more. Call me when you’re done.” You whispered, and he watched you through the phone, wishing that he could hold you, that he could kiss you, that one push of that little red button at the bottom of the screen wouldn’t make your face disappear from his view. The stupid tour was keeping him away from you, and while you tried to hide it from him, he knew that you wanted him there now, you needed him there more than anything right now.

Felixs mind was completely overtaken by thoughts of you, thoughts of his child as he stood on stage. He couldn’t even focus on the choreography, his steps out of place and he constantly bumped into the other members who, in any other situation, would have gotten annoyed by his continuous mistakes, but they knew he was lost in his own mind, in his own worries about what was going on back at home.

It took a while for him to even begin to calm down, but the lack of buzzing in his back pocket was, in a way, more comforting than it usually would be. Things were fine, that’s what he kept telling himself, what the guys kept telling him whenever they passed him on the stage. Back pats and intermittent hugs were common, trying to keep him from thinking too much about what was happening or what could be happening.

What he didn’t know was that back at home in the small little room with the flowers and the smiley faces on the ceiling, you were curled up on the hospital bed, eyes bloodshot from crying as you held the last ultrasound picture you’d receive from this pregnancy that had abruptly ended with no real reason.

You didn’t call, not yet, not because you didn’t want to, but because you couldn’t. You couldn’t bring yourself to deliver the news to him when you knew he was already worried about you, when you knew he was standing on stage in front of thousands of fans. If you told him, he’d definitely run off the stage just to talk to you, trying to find the next available flight to make it home.

So no, you didn’t call him, but you shot him a quick text, hoping that he wouldn’t check it until after the concert was over. “I’m so sorry, Lixie… Nugget is gone…” Was all the text said, truthfully, you didn’t know how to put it. How were you supposed to tell him something so awful when he was thousands of miles away? All you wanted to do was be held by him and cry with him over the future that was snatched away from the both of you without any warning.

The vibration in his pocket was something that he had been waiting for, his hand quickly reaching into the back of his jeans to pull it out, pretending that he was about to take a picture. The smile that had been on his face at the thought of the new ultrasound pictures he’d be receiving quickly faded when he read the message notification on his lock screen.

It took everything, everything for him to not collapse in the middle of the stage right then and there, his eyes already brimming with tears as his arms fell limp at his sides. Fans continued to cheer, adrenaline and excitement emanating from all of them, but he was in his own bubble, his sad, dark cloud filled bubble that all of those joyous emotions bounced off of.

“Felix?” Chan was the first to notice, rushing over to him and quickly pulling him off to the side of the stage, and it was only then, once out of the spotlight, that Felix allowed himself to crumble under the crashing wave of emotions that washed over him. “Wh-What happened? Talk to me, Felix.”

But he could only shake his head as the tears rolled down his freckled cheeks, his mouth opened but no words coming out, only small gasps as a shaky hand held out his phone to the leader. What was he supposed to do now? He felt like a failure, he failed to be there for you, to be the boyfriend that would always stand beside you even during the hardest times. This was the worst time for both of you, yet you were going through it alone.

At this point all the other members were staring at him, the entire venue had fallen silent as every one there focused their attention on the crying man that was just slightly out of view. “I-I don’t know what to do… hyung… What do I do?” Felix whimpered, glassy eyes staring up at the man who, for the first time, didn’t have much of a suggestion. Chan didn’t know how this felt, none of them did, none of the other guys had ever been through something like this, let alone so far away.

“If you need to go home, then go home, Felix.” Was all Chan could offer, a firm hand planted on the younger man's shoulder. “Y/N needs you way more than we do right now, way more than STAY needs you…” And Felix knew that, the problem was that he didn’t know the first thing to do once he got home. Of course, he’d hold you and he’d tell you that it would be okay even though he’d know that both of you felt the complete opposite of okay.

How was he even supposed to step foot inside of his home when it would just be a constant reminder of the child that he had already prepared for, a child that he loved so much before even seeing them, a child that had been stolen away from both him and you before either of you got to even meet them. How was he supposed to keep composed enough to even be there for you?

Even if he didn’t decide to go home, he wouldn’t be able to continue performing. He couldn’t even pretend to be excited, let alone pretend to actually care about the show right now. You, the love of his life, were experiencing what he could only imagine to be the worst possible thing that you could ever have to go through, and there was no way in hell he’d leave you alone any longer than you needed to be. Sure, he didn’t know the first thing he’d say to you, he didn’t even know what to think for himself to calm his own emotions, but the least he could be is there.

“STAY…” He whispered into the mic, not wanting them to worry if he just ran off stage without a word, and he didn’t want to put the weight on Chans or any of the other members shoulders. They’d have to finish the show, the rest of the tour without him, the least he could do is say goodbye and apologize. “There’s… some things… going on at home right now for me… And I need to get back home to help take care of them…” He choked out the words, his eyes glistening under the spotlight that was casted down on him. “I’m so sorry… I promise to make it up to you when I’m able to… But I need to go now.”

There were a few sounds of disappointment coming from the crowd, but he knew that the fans, the real fans, would understand and they wouldn’t hold it against him. He didn’t even wait for the words of the other guys as he rushed off stage, fingers working quickly to undo the mic that he was wired with. Now that that was over with, you were the only thing on his mind.

Tears fell down his face in the solitude of first class on the plane that carried him back home, and most of the flight he slept, unable to keep his eyes open once they got too puffy from crying. He felt like the dictionary definition of a train wreck right now, the makeup that had been put on him before the concert had yet to be cleanly removed, the small amount of eyeliner and eyeshadow blotchy under his eyes from wiping them too much. He didn’t care who might see him or the photos that would come out if any were taken. One day he’d tell the world about what happened, and that day they’d understand why he looked this way, but for now, their words would mean nothing to him, their reports were pointless and false. They could say anything they wanted, nothing would ever hurt him as much as the small two sentence text that he had gotten on stage.

He knew that you’d be upset, he had, in some sense, prepared for that, but he couldn’t have possibly prepared himself enough for the heartbreaking image of you curled up on the couch, your arms wrapped around your stomach and your entire body shuddering from the lingering sniffles that came after your sobs. Your head slightly lifted at the sound of his entrance, both of your eyes bloodshot as they met from across the room. “I’m… I’m so sorry, angel…” He said softly as he made his way over to you, dropping down onto the floor beside you on the couch. You were surrounded with balled up tissues that had been used to cry into and wipe whatever tears clung to your cheeks.

Seeing you from a distance had been heartbreaking, but now seeing you up close, the way your upper lip was raw and puffy from roughly wiping your nose, your hair dampened by the tears that fell into it, your eyes barely even able to open from how much you’ve cried… It was heart shattering, like the broken pieces that had been left over were now being stomped on and kicked around. “They d-don’t know… why… it h-happened…” You shakily said between shortened breaths, your lips chapped from your open mouthed breathing. “You… were s-so ex-excited… and… I’m s-sorry… Lix…”

He quickly shushed you, his fingers quickly brushing away the loose strands of hair that clung to your forehead. “It’s not your fault… It’s not…” He cooed, leaning his forehead against yours as his hands moved down to cup your cheeks. “And I’m not going to leave you. I promise, I’m going to stay by your side no matter what…” It was a solid promise, one that he wasn’t going to break. If you wanted to stay on the couch the entire time, he’d stay seated on the floor beside you. If you wanted to lay in bed all day and be held by him, he’d do that if it meant that even the slightest bit of pain you were feeling right now would subside.

This is why he’s here… It’s for you and solely for you, because even though the pain he’s feeling right now is bad, he can only imagine how much harder it was for you. You had been told the news while you were by yourself, you had to process those emotions on your own, and then you had to go back to the empty house and continue to process those emotions by yourself. You had been the one carrying the baby, and even if it was only for a short 3 months, you had already loved the baby. Felix had caught you on many occasions smiling to yourself as your hand absentmindedly circled over your stomach. Now it was empty, you were empty. He had left for tour, excitedly awaiting coming home and only having to wait 3 more months to meet his child, and now that child was just… gone. There was no family to look forward to, not any time soon, not anymore. Home is where his heart is, you are his heart, you had it entirely. He loved coming home usually… But right now, home is where hurt is, hurt and devastation and shattered dreams.

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gamergirl-niffler · 10 months

Note

Hello! Hope you are having a nice day! May I request for a Kyojuro and/or Haganezuka x fem!reader (separately) who is particulary clingy and loving with them?

I did my best! I hope you will enjoy it! 💗💗

Kyojuro/Haganezuka with clingy fem!reader

🔥Kyojuro Rengoku🔥

‌This man is just as clingy as you are!

Of course, he is clingy! He is in love and there is no better way to show it. All Kyojuro wants to do is to spend every possible moment, having you as close as possible.

‌Cuddles are must for the both of you

It doesn't matter if it's you hugging him or him hanging on you. Both of you love cuddles because there is nothing better than the warm embrace of a loved person.

Kyojuro loves to hug you tightly after every mission, your closeness is the best reward. This feels wonderful when the mission was successful, if it wasn't... Kyojuro will cling onto you. Just be there for him and hold him tight.

He will do the same for you. Every achievement of yours, big or small, is worthy of a tight hug.

The same happens when suddenly fortune turns on you. You can cry all you want, and he will hold you to maybe make it a little better, to show that you are safe and loved.

‌BIG on PDA!

He is not ashamed to show off his love to you.

You can be doing something, maybe talking to other Hashiras or simply enjoying the day, and suddenly Kyojuro is holding your hand, kissing your cheek or forehead, wrapping his arm around you.

Walking hand in hand with you makes him feel proud! Look everyone! I love and I am loved!

By being clingy, he shows his affection... But sometimes jealousy as well.

Of course, trust is a big foundation of your relationship. He trusts you, and you trust him.

But even jealousy manage to sneak between the two of you.

You are talking to Tengen a bit too enthusiastically and a little bit too long? Kyo is there to give you a kiss or simply hug you... Just in case.

You aren't any better! Let's be honest, Kyojuro's beauty is unusual, which draws attention... Female attention…

Once you notice some girl showing interest in your man, you are glued to him! Just nuzzling to him with Innocent smile, showing that he is taken.

‌Bed cuddles!

Those are MUST just as the regular ones! Both of you get ready for bed and it's a cuddle time.

You are the little spoon because holding you like this gives him the feeling he is fulfilling his duties as a caring partner. Having you close and drifting off to sleep after a hard day is a dream come true.

Morning cuddles are just as fun! Both of you are just as sleepy, muttering a quiet 'good morning' and arguing about five more minutes!

He is just a big teddy bear that loves to hug and be hugged.

🔪Hotaru Haganezuka🔪

‌He hates how clingy you are... But he secretly loves it…

Hotaru isn't the most clingy person. There are stuff more important to do than cuddling all the goddamn time!

On the other hand... He will never admit to it, but he actually enjoys it.

He didn't experience much of a love in his life, not to mention he is kinda difficult person to be around. You are a little miracle that decided to give him a chance, and all those little actions from you feel so good and warm.

‌Cuddles are a must for you... For him, not really.

Don't get him wrong! He loves it so much... But he isn't going to show it.

Hotaru will even complain and give you a little grimace, but never push you away, accepting every hug you are willing to give him when the two of you are out of your house.

BUUUUUUUT

It is so much different when the two of you stay home. He will take it all without a word of complaint. You can hang on him whole day and he will even return some hugs.

PDA is not for him...

He is a specific person, he doesn't like to draw much attention to himself or you, so PDA is out of the question.

Let's be honest, there also isn't much need for it. Everyone knows you are his S/O and no one really wants to get into a fight with him.

Sometimes he gets soft

There are days when even he needs some love.

During those days he actually enjoys how clingy you are, and he is just as clingy back.

He hugs you back and lets you play with his hair, actually whatever you want, you can do and will not hear a word against it.

Of course, all of this only at your shared house.

Bed cuddles!

Firstly, you have to get him to bed!

Once it's done, and he is calm, it's so much nicer.

Hotaru wraps his strong arms around you and cuddles you to sleep, letting you do the same since you love it so much and how can you say no to that?!

In the morning, he is actually more clingy than you are.

He pulls you back to bed when you try to get up, muttering things like. "Come back here" or "You are staying with me for a bit more."

There is no way to escape his grasps, both arms around you and face hidden in your neck make it impossible to leave the bed. You are his favorite little spoon.

#demon slayer #Haganezuka #demon slayer haganezuka #kny haganezuka #hotaru haganezuka #haganezuka x reader #demon slayer headcanons #hotaru haganezuka x reader #kny headcanons #kyojuro rengoku #demon slayer kyojuro #kny rengoku #kyojuro x reader #kyojuro x you #kyojuro rengoku x reader #kyojuro rengoku x y/n #kny kyojuro #kyojuro headcanons #rengoku headcanons

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moonstruckme · 7 months

Note

Hi! I am absolutely in love with your writing! The way you portray our boys is just *chefs kiss*

Anywho, I was wondering if I could request poly!marauders x plus size reader? Maybe she is very confident until somebody picks on her and she starts becoming obsessed with dieting and stuff. (I'm struggling a lot with that rn) just a bunch of worry and comfort from our boys.

If you don't feel comfortable writing this or just the prompt I gave it's okay. Ily!♡

Hi, thanks for requesting my love! I'm really sorry you're struggling right now, I know how hard it can be and hope you're doing your best to take good care of yourself. You're beautiful just as you are <33

cw: size insecurity, behavior that hints at disordered eating

poly!marauders x plus size!reader ♡ 1.2k words

The worst part is, you know they weren’t even really trying to insult you.

You smiled as best you could, said your thanks politely, and moved on. Moved on outwardly, that is. Inside, the words play over and over in your head, like a song on the radio that gets worse each time you listen to it. It wasn’t that they were vicious, or particularly clever, or even wrong. It’s just, you’re not used to people commenting on your body like that.

You know you’re not skinny. So does everyone else. Neither of you typically feel the need to confer about it. Every now and again, some cruel busybody will say something, but that’s fairly easy to brush off. They’re insecure about their own looks, they have nothing better to do than fixate on strangers’ appearances, they’ve probably been on diet pills since they were twelve. You wish them well and mostly forget about it. But what’s worse is when someone comes to you with good intentions. The idea of being perceived as pitiful or wrong—really, having your physical form perceived at all—by someone who seems to want the best for you is what really hurts. That’s what makes you want to hide, to shrink yourself down until they can’t see you anymore. To become the invisible status quo.

It’s why, over the last few days, anything skintight or remotely showy has been relegated to the back of your closet in favor of things that hide your figure. Why you’ve stopped drawing attention to yourself with colorful makeup and instead started focusing on your health. Well, your health as it presents itself externally.

“Anyone else fancy a dessert?” Sirius muses as you sit reading on the couch, Remus reading the next book in the series beside you.

“Um, no,” James says, holding up a hand of cards from the game he and Sirius have been playing, “you only want to go so you don’t have to stick around and lose.”

“Whatever my other, subconscious motives may be,” Sirius says guilelessly, “I really feel like something chocolate. Don’t you, Moons?”

That’s always a safe bet. Remus looks up from his book, intrigued. “I could go for some chocolate.”

Sirius grins. “What about you, gorgeous?”

That’s usually a safe bet too. But you shouldn’t. “Thanks, but I’m still full from dinner.”

Sirius looks cheated, and Remus cocks his head at you. “Really? Didn’t seem like you ate much.” He’s not wrong. Remus had made the most incredible feta pasta, it was borderline heartbreaking to leave any on your plate. But you’re trying to practice restraint, and thankfully, James had happily taken care of your leftovers for you. “Did you have a late lunch or something?”

“Mhm.”

James looks up, eyebrows furrow bemusedly behind his glasses. “No you didn’t, angel. You said you didn’t feel like lunch after we had breakfast together, remember?”

“Oh.” You nod. So what? You’d had a late breakfast, and a decently sized dinner, and why do you really need more than two meals anyway? Who made that rule? You’re a bit hungry, but your body just needs time to adjust to your new routine. It’s used to overindulging. And nothing about today means you deserve dessert. “Right.”

Sirius wraps his fingers delicately around your ankle, smoothing a path up your shin with his palm. “Darling,” he says, and he looks distracted as he runs his fingers over the old scars on your knee, but you know him well enough to recognize when he’s keyed in, “did you eat anything today, other than breakfast and that little bit of dinner? Any snacks or anything?”

You can’t help the little rush of pride that goes through you. “No.”

Sirius doesn’t look proud. In fact, he’s frowning, as are Remus and James. You change tactics. “I’m not really hungry, though.”

“No?” Sirius' voice is unsettlingly gentle. “Why don’t you want to have dessert tonight, pretty girl?”

“Because,” you say, beginning to feel defensive (though you’re not sure of what), “I don’t need it.”

“It’s not about need, though,” James says, and why is it beginning to feel like you’re in an argument? “It’s about what you want. Do you want a little something sweet?”

“I…” Yes. The answer is yes, but do you want it more than you want to feel good about yourself? “I think what I want more is to prove to myself that I can go without it.”

Remus’ scars shift as his face scrunches in concern. “Dove,” he says, and you can’t decide if his tone is more reprimand or pity. You don’t like either option. “Where is this coming from?”

“I’m just…I’m trying something new,” you decide. “I want to lose a little weight, okay? Nothing crazy.”

“But why?” James sets down his cards, looking completely befuddled. “Angel, you’re gorgeous. You can do whatever you want, but we love you just like you are.”

“And,” Sirius adds before you can reply, “we love you most when you’re happy. I sort of thought,” he says, lowering his voice like he’s telling you a secret, “that our late-night treat runs made you happy. No?”

“They do.” You pull your legs up onto the couch, away from Sirius’ touch. “I just…I think it would make me happy to be a more normal size, too.”

Remus looks gutted. “Honey, you…it’s your body, and you should do whatever feels right for you to be healthy, but…we love you like this,” he insists, ardent. “You’re beautiful, I mean it, and I hate the idea that you might want to change for…well, for anyone other than yourself.”

You hesitate. You’re not actually sure who you’re doing this for. When had you become one of the people who want for you to be smaller so desperately? “You seriously don’t think I would look better if I were thinner?” You’ve never been one to put much stock into what any men think of your appearance, so you feel silly for asking, but you’re in a vulnerable state. And really, don’t all guys want a girl that looks like the love interests in the movies you all grew up with?

James looks you in the eye, letting you see the earnestness in his as he says, “You’re absolutely lovely, right here, right now. We wouldn’t change a thing.”

Your answering smile is oddly watery. Remus makes an awfully lovely cooing sound, leaning over to wrap an arm around your waist and paying no mind to the chub there as he pulls you into his side. “Don’t be upset, darling. You know what I bet will cheer you up?” He smiles as you look up at him questioningly, kissing between your brows. “Some chocolate. How would you feel about that?”

You let out a quiet little laugh. “Pretty good.”

“Yes!” Sirius pumps his fist in the air, already abandoning his cards and standing up. “I knew you’d come through, gorgeous. Now I think the more pressing question is, do we want chocolate pastries or chocolate ice cream?”

“Ice cream, obviously,” James says. “Before it gets so cold out we don’t feel like it.”

“Not all of us suffer from weather constraints,” Sirius argues. “I vote pastry.”

“Why would you bring ice cream up if you didn’t want it? Think long and hard, Pads. Are you going to feel like a frozen dessert when you need three layers to go outside in a few weeks?”

Remus rolls his eyes at you as you follow them out the door, letting your boys continue their bickering all the way to the store.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months

Text

All the Good Girls Go To Hell 21

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, power imbalance, injury, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You come home for the summer but your break is not as relaxing as you expect.

Character: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

Note: Enjoy.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

The warm pressure of Bucky's fingertips release the tension from your soles and radiates up your legs. You feel yourself slumping further against the armrest, watching the television as you try not to be too aware of his touch. It's hard to ignore as a groan slips between your lips. You sink down, extending your legs so he can get a better grasp.

“Good?” He asks lightly.

“Mhmm,” you hum, “it's nice.”

He keeps on, his large hands around your foot as he rolls his knuckle into your arch. You let out an embarrassing noise and giggle as his tending turns ticklish. You sit up suddenly, cheeks burning as your thighs tingle.

He looks at you surprised as you plant your palms and hold yourself out. You lift a hand and fix your glasses. You give a sheepish smile and wiggle your toes.

“Tickly,” you carefully raise your feet and bend your legs. He reluctantly lets you go as disappointment wrinkles in his forehead.

“Sorry,” he apologises.

“No, no, it's okay,” you turn straight, hanging your legs over the edge as you come to sit in the middle of the sofa, “I'm just sensitive.”

“Ah, and I can be a bit overbearing,” he adds.

You fold your hands in your lap and smile, your eyes drifting back to the television as you divert your attention to the cat fight over an over extravagant brunch. You feel his gaze, it has you paralysed. He sighs and stretches his arm over the back of the couch. You stay along the edge, pretending to be rapt in the on-screen drama.

His leg sways one way then the other. He blows out a long breath and the tension mingles with a sweltering heat. You wince as you feel a brush along your arm and glance over as he pushes the strap of your shirt back over your shoulder.

He smiles as you peek down at the fabric. You meet his gaze again as his fingertips linger on your skin, caressing in circles as he sits forward. You tilt your head, spellbound by his slow movement.

You gulp as you feel the tugging force between you. Like a magnet you can't help but lean in as he leans closer. Your eyes go wide as you realise what's about to happen. He's going to kiss you and you're not going to stop him.

His breath swathes around you as he grips your shoulder, hand crawling towards your neck. He brings his fingers under your chin and angles your head back as you shift towards him. Your noses brush against each other but your lips can't meet before a sudden bang draws you apart.

You sit back and cross your arms, cheeks burning as Bucky stands abruptly. He clears his throat as you shake your head and clamp your lips tight. That was too close.

“Yo,” Naomi hollers as she prances into the room, stopping short as Bucky distances himself from you. You're stunned by her arrival, her nonchalance unexpected given her storming out days before. “Huh,” she looks between you and her smile falls to a scowl, “am I interrupting?”

“Wasn't expecting you,” Bucky grits.

“Clearly,” she scoffs as you fold your hands and stare at her helplessly, “you move on fast.”

“It's not–” you begin but go unheard as Bucky speaks over you.

“And you sure are a good friend. Took me all day to clean that shit off her car,” he snarls, “so unless it's an apology, you won't talk to her.”

“Oh, this is so rich. Her?” Naomi blusters.

“It's about decency,” he insists, “why are you even here? Shouldn't you be with the worm?”

“I came back to check on her–”

“Sure,” Bucky crosses his arms and you watch his shoulders bulge, “you left her all alone yesterday and now you care so much, huh?”

“I'm sure you were right there with your little act to sweep her off your feet. You should be thanking me,” she accuses, “she's my friend. She just feels sorry for a pathetic old man like you.”

You stand up, standing just behind Bucky. He has no response, throwing up his hands as he blows between his lips. He waves her off dismissively.

“Whatever, Mimi, I'm the bad guy,” he mutters.

“It's not true,” you say as he turns away from her, “please– I… Nay,” you pass him as he drags his feet. You stop in front of Naomi, watching her expectantly, “I'm here because you ditched me. Last night… I said no. I said no and you violated me.”

She rolls her eyes, “we were having fun.”

“It wasn't fun for me,” you retort.

She puts her hands on her hips and tilts her head defiantly, “it was a kiss–”

“That it? No sorry?” You sputter, genuinely hurt.

“Well, uh, yeah,” her voice warbles, “I'm sorry, sure, I didn't think you'd freak out–”

“Sorry I freaked out? Nay,” you pout, “come on.”

She sighs and looks past you. You know he's still there but he won't look at her. You don't blame him. You're not the only she betrayed.

“You lied to me. About everything.”

“I had to–”

“Your parents never kicked you out, did they?” You interject. She winces, taken aback by your abruptness. “Tell me the truth.”

She drops her eyes and shrugs, “I couldn't stay–”

“Did they?” You ask quietly.

She clicks her tongue and stomps her heeled sandal, “no, okay? But I couldn't stay there. It doesn't change anything. Bucky's still an old creep–”

Bucky sniffs but says nothing. The tension roils around you as you're caught between them. You can't keep doing this. You have to choose.

“Naomi,” Bucky rasps as he approaches, “I won't throw you out. I know you have no where else–”

You cross your arms as your spine goes rigid. She rolls her eyes again. How much has she had handed to her and spat back? She had somewhere to go, she has a dozen people who want her, but you're not one of them anymore.

“If she stays, I'm leaving,” you declare, “so better make up your mind, Nay.”

You sidestep her, nearly brushing against her as she lets out a pathetic noise. You don't look back as you charge across the room. You're done being lost, you'll go home and deal with that mess. You can't live by Naomi's rules anymore.

“You can't do this,” she whines, “you know he'll choose you.”

You don't listen. You scurry down the hall and into the guest room. You close the door and lean against it, breathless.

The scene unfurls in your mind. Only nights before, Naomi on top of Bucky, taunting him. She blames him but you heard it all. She was begging him and he said no.

You march to the nightstand and grab your bag. You don't have much to your name, only a car declaring you as scum. The thought of going back to your mom chills you but you could drive up to your dad's. He can't turn you away if you're already there, can he?

You shove your few possessions into the bag and whip open the door. You're an adult, you need to stop expecting others to take care of you. You'll just grab your phone and be gone.

As you come out, you find Bucky standing with his back to you. He leans on the wall, his arm bent as if he’s cradling his head. You peer around at the empty room.

“I'm going–”

“You too?” He asks softly.

“I think I should. I don't want to put her out–”

“She left,” he murmurs and lets out a hiss, “don't think she'll be back.”

“Why do you say that? Bucky, what's wrong?”

“If you're going, please just do it,” he begs.

His voice is barely more than a croak. Is he crying? You near him, leaning to the side as you try to get a glimpse of him. He shies away so you grab his arm. He lets you turn him as he drops his hand from his cheek.

There's a bright red welt on his cheek bone and a gash just below his eye. You gasp and drop your bag. He blinks his injured eye and turns his face away.

“What happened?” You squeak.

“She just… she was upset–”

“Naomi did this?” You gasp.

He chuckles then winces, “those shoes she wears, they always looked painful, just didn't think like that.”

“What? She hit you with her shoe?” You exclaim, searching around him.

“She's gone,” he assures you, “think she scared herself even.”

“Bucky,” you step closer, “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologising?” He gives a rocky laugh.

“I… it’s my fault, I shouldn’t have confronted her like that–”

“Not the first time,” he shakes his head, “definitely not your fault.”

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing, please. Don’t let me keep you. You need anything? Gas money?”

You take a breath and close your eyes. You feel worse leaving him like this. He says it’s not your fault but you can’t help but feel it is.

“Is… is it okay if I stay?” You flutter your lashes open.

“Only if you want to,” he tries to smile and once more reaches to his cheek.

“Oh, you need to get some ice on that,” you say.

“I look that bad?”

“I mean it, it’s swelling already,” you bend to pick up your bag and stride past him.

You enter the kitchen and plunk your bag on the counter as you pass. You open the freezer and search around. You find a bag of frozen veggies and snatch the cloth from across the oven handle. You wrap up the cold package and turn to face Bucky as he shuffles in.

“Here,” you cross to him and hold out the icy packet.

He thanks you as he takes it and leans on the island, pressing it to his cheek. He groans as he plants his elbow. You smile nervously, unsure what to do next.

“Do you need Advil or something? Can I get you anything?” You offer.

“Please, please, I’m good,” he says, “you’ve done more than enough.” You can only see his one eye as the other is hidden behind the iced veggies, “you’re too sweet. Really.”

“I’m just doing what anyone would do,” you shrug.

“No, not anyone,” he assures you.

🏡

It’s hard to settle down for the night. The shadow of adrenaline follows you into the guest room and you try to close it out as the door clicks behind you. It’s the buzzing sensation of being overtired but slightly too addled to calm down.

You left Bucky in the living room. He seemed less than eager to turn in himself. Guilt nips at you but he insisted that you go to bed. It’s probably for the better. You assume he needs some time alone after a day like that.

You change into your pajamas and prop up your phone on the nightstand. You shut off the light and nestle into the fresh sheets, fragrant with fabric softener. Your nerves ease down as your eyes cling to the small screen glowing in the dark, the colours blurring together as your eyelids grow heavy.

You feel yourself sink into your subconscious. It’s a swirling black, turbulent but void. You feel like your swaying on a tide, rising and falling with a steady ebb and flow. From the shallowness that has you vaguely aware of the room to the deep sludge that makes your headache.

You wake with a start. You’re not sure what woke you but it’s completely black. Your phone doesn’t respond as you hit the home button. It’s dead.

You rub your eyes and yawn, feeling around for your glasses on the night table. You want to just roll over and fall back asleep but your bladder squeezes uncomfortably. You surrender and drag yourself from the bed.

You let yourself into the hall. The house is silent but a light glows still from down the hall. You cross the hall and dip into the bathroom. You take your time, your movement lazy with the dregs of your exhaustion.

You dry off your hands and go back into the hall. You stop and listen to the house. You hear something, a low, inconsistent noise. Something shuddering from the front room. You peek over at the guest room door then back again.

It’s probably the wind or something. Bucky has to be asleep by now. You go into the front room and find it empty.

You go to turn off the light and let out a squeak of surprise. Bucky lays across the couch, his head propped against the armrest as he holds a whisky bottle against his chest.

“Hey, doll,” he slurs.

“Bucky,” you bat your lashes.

“What can I do for you, sweetheart?” He babbles before covering his mouth, stifling a belch.

“Are you… okay?” You inch closer and see how his head lolls.

“Fine,” he drones, his eye purplish blue as a large bump swells on his cheek, “I’m just… having a midnight snack.”

He wiggles the bottle and you glance over at the time digitally displayed under the television. You frown. It’s almost three in the morning. You cautiously edge along the couch, drawn by the onus of your own regretful drunken shame.

“It’s late,” you say as you stop beside him, “how about you save the rest?”

You grab the neck of the bottle and he clings to it a moment before letting it go. You nearly slosh it on yourself. You set it on the table behind you and face him again.

“I’m sorry,” he mopes, “I don’t drink… not alone.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him, “do you want some water?”

He closes his eyes, “please, I’m so embarrassed. I don’t want you to see me like this.”

“You know I won’t judge you. I was a bigger mess last night.”

He turns his head away from you. The difference between you and him is that you can’t just carry him off to his bed. You gently touch his arm and balance on the edge close to him, rubbing his shoulder.

“It’s okay to be sad about Naomi,” you coax.

He nods and keeps his face averted. You squeeze his arm, feeling the thick muscle of his bicep. The scent of alcohol ripples off of him.

“You still need to sleep though,” you say, “so why don’t you get up–”

He turns his head back suddenly and grabs your hand. There’s a desperate blaze behind his oceanic eyes. He clings to your tightly, “I’m not sad about her,” he garbles, “doll, I’m heartbroken…” he wiggles his nose as his eyes sparkle, “over you.”

“Bucky,” you murmur, “you're drunk.”

“I am,” he croons, “but I still feel the same. Doll, I only ever think of you.”

You sit there, speechless. You don’t know how to react. You want to chalk it up to whiskey and stress. You want to just get him to bed and pretend he never said it in the morning. Yet something else in you wants him more. You know you shouldn’t, but you do.

Even so, it can’t be like this.

“I… I like you, Bucky,” you slip your hand free of his and brush a shank of hair away from his forehead, “but I like you even more when you’re sober.”

“Mmmm,” he groans and drops his chin, “I’m sorry, doll.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you tap the tip of his nose, “just get up and go to bed. Sleep it off and we can talk in the morning.”

He nods and gulps thickly, “alright, doll. For you, I’ll do anything.”

He reaches up and braces the back of the couch. You stand as he pushes himself up, wobbling just slightly as he gets to his feet. You grab his arm, offering what little support you can. He smiles down at you and caresses your cheek as he sways.

“I’m dreaming, aren’t I?” He asks.

“Bed,” you remind him firmly.

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #au #all the good girls go to hell #series #marvel #mcu #avengers #captain america #winter soldier

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rreids · 13 days

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hey, i was wondering if you'd be able to write smth with Spencer in a relationship with someone with bpd? it's totally okay if you're not comfy with that, but I've just been suspecting i may have it, and ppl with bpd are always portrayed so negatively in relationships. it would be just rly nice to read ur take on how Spencer would handle that and just see some positive representation! (my mental health has also been shit so it would be p comforting lol) thank u 🫶

hi love 🫶 i don't know a ton about bpd, so i hope i did this justice! i researched the diagnosis and how healthy relationships help with regulation and in what ways they do (both accounts from experts and from those who are diagnosed). and i hope you feel better soon <3 it sucks when your mind fights against you.

PROMISES • S. REID X READER

reader has bpd (written by an author without, ideally will be comforting rather than hurtful. please let me know if it is offensive in any way); gn!reader; spencer has to break a small promise but makes others; talks of therapy; teasing; fluff; ~500 words

“Hey, sweetheart,” Spencer whispers into the phone, voice a little strained. “I’m really, really sorry, but I can’t make lunch today. We’re on the way to a case in Omaha. It’s a really bad one.”

Your heart sinks. “Oh.”

“You know I want to be there more than anything, right?” He’s shuffling papers in the background, and you know they’re in the middle of getting ready on the jet and that he’s still making time for you, but it still makes your mind race with worry and upset. “I’ve been looking forward to it all week. And I promise I’ll take you out as soon as we’re back.”

You frown, fiddling with the promise ring on your finger. “Will you still talk to me?”

Spencer chuckles. “I think I go insane when I go too long without hearing your voice. As long as you don’t mind calls when it’s two a.m. there, I’m calling before bed every night I have enough time.”

You sigh.

“I know, honey. When’s your next meeting with your therapist?”

“Tomorrow,” you mumble, gnawing on your lip.

“Well, you have permission to talk about how much I suck,” Spencer teases lightly. “As long as you know it’s not by choice that I’m being a bad boyfriend.”

“You’re not a bad boyfriend.”

“Yeah?” You can hear the smile in his voice.

“You’re the best boyfriend. You understand me.” He does. He’s looked into BPD extensively — he knows even more than you do, rattling off statistics, assumed causes and connections, coping methods, everything. He knows how to break you out of the spirals and to calm your impulsivities.

“You have other boyfriends?” Spencer sighs dramatically, and you laugh.

“Why would I have them? You’re more than enough.”

Spencer hums. “I am, aren’t I?”

You groan.

“I’m messing with you,” his voice is fond and soft. “I gotta hang up, everyone’s coming and we need all our focus on this case. Message me if you need anything. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”

“You don’t do anything,” you know you’re exaggerating, but it’s hard to stop the words.

“I do, just nothing out of our normal,” he’s nudging you gently, reminding you to think things through before acting impulsively. “I give you permission to watch our show without me if it’ll keep you entertained.”

You laugh. “Okay, okay. Fine. I’ll be good,” you draw it out.

Spencer snorts. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Spence.”

A beat.

“I’m not actually going to talk shit about you to my therapist, just so you know. I do talk about you though.”

And then you hang up.

He sends you a ‘???’ and a ‘I wanted to say something still.’ right after. When you tell him to say it, he sends a ‘Do what you need to feel regulated. I don’t take it to heart, you know I don’t.’

And he doesn’t. He’s so sweet, so achingly perfect, understanding of when your moods swing, or when you feel empty, or whenever anything changes and you can’t tell why.

And he always helps you down, kissing scars and tears and whispering praise as he gets you to feel right again.

#my works #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid scenario #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid imagine #requested

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