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actiniumwrites · 8 months

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𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇

synopsis: wriothesley finds out you have a crush on someone and somehow manages to guess it’s on literally everyone but himself

characters: wriothesley x gn!reader

wc: 1.4k

warnings: fluff, a tiny pinch of angst and insecurity, my poor attempt at humor, slight miscommunication, friends to lovers, coworkers to lovers, swearing, first time writing for wriothesley so he might be ooc

notes: i almost made this angst to fluff but then decided i need to stop adding angst into literally everything i write (even though there’s like a tiny pinch of angst in here too 🙄). anyway, wriothesley is a lot harder to write than i thought he would be so i apologize if he seems ooc here

“Heard you gotta crush on someone,” Wriothesley teases as he walks into his office where you sit on one of his couches. You don’t even hear him walk in, too engaged in the book you were reading to pass time until you had to go through hundreds of inmate records to find something Neuvillette had requested.

His declaration is so sudden it almost makes you spit out the tea you had stolen from him.

Your eyes go wide as you stare at where he moves to lean against the front of his desk, arms crossed and waiting for an answer with that stupid smirk of his, “Hey now, that tea is expensive, so don’t go wasting it, okay?”

“Who told you about that?” you press for answers, a hint of anger in your voice as you ignore his previous statement about the tea. He had plenty to spare anyway.

Wriothesley’s smirk widens a bit, “So it is true.”

Damn him.

You don’t even bother trying to make an excuse, knowing your best friend all too well. He’d pick apart your words like weeds in a garden, finding meaning in them that you hadn’t even intended.

“And what if it is true?” you cross your arms defensively, glaring at him from across the room.

“At least tell me who it is,” he says as he rests his palms on the wooden desk behind him. When you don’t give in to his pleading, he playfully scoffs, “Oh c’mon, I’m your best friend! It’s kinda an obligation for you to tell me these things.”

You turn away, fixating your gaze on a nearby wall adorned with some weird painting he had hung awhile back, “Oh yeah? Since when? Last I checked there aren’t any rule books for being friends with someone. I don’t have to tell you a damn thing.”

“It’s Neuvillette, isn’t it?” he smiles knowingly. Perhaps that was why you were always the one receiving tasks from the Chief Justice instead of him — a guess at best, but enough evidence to convince him Neuvillette was the one.

No, you idiot. It’s you.

You snap your head back toward him, “What? No! I don’t like Neuvillette…not like that, at least. He’s nice and all, but I don’t think I’d be able to date the guy.”

“Damn, I really thought I had that one,” Wriothesley mumbles in defeat, pushing himself off the desk and instead moving to walk around the room as he thinks. It scares you. The fact that he’s so particular with facts and little details that it’s only a matter of time before he collects all the pieces to the puzzle and figures out he’s the one you like. What would he say when that happens? “Too nice, huh? So you like someone a little colder, then.”

Damn it, he got you again!

You don’t answer him.

“Not even going to try to deny it?”

“No,” you grumble to yourself, slumping further into the couch, “you’re only going to dig further anyway.”

He gives a satisfied hum, “Right, so it’s Clorinde then. I mean c’mon, we don’t get a lot of visitors, so it has to be her. She fits the description too.”

You exhaustedly sigh and swipe a hand over your face dramatically, done with his antics, “It’s not her either. And there is no ‘description.’”

He perks up in a way that makes you way too uncomfortable, “Navia?”

“No, I’ve never even met her aside from like one time two years ago,” you refute, sliding further down on the couch to fully lie down and shut your eyes, “I don’t get why you’re so excited over this.”

Wriothesley thinks for a moment before squinting his eyes, “Don’t tell me you have a crush on a prisoner?”

You teasingly peek an eye open while leaning back to look at him, “And if I did?”

“You better not,” he warns, pointing a stern finger at you like you were a prisoner and not his coworker.

You laugh to yourself at his sudden change of mood, “Relax, I was only joking!”

“Not funny,” he says unamused, prepared to pull out the prison’s rule book and slap it over your head if you did, “I’m really runnin’ out of people here.”

“Yeah, okay,” you say sarcastically, resisting the urge to roll your eyes, “thousands of people live in Fontaine. You’ll figure it out eventually.”

You really hope he doesn’t.

The following ten minutes consist of Wriothesley irritatingly pacing around the room and mumbling all sorts of names to himself. Some of which you recognized, others you had never even heard of before. And, despite all of your countless no’s to his guesses, he never gives up. Nor does he realize the answer is right in front of him.

“Just give it up already,” you finally interrupt as he stops in front of you.

A heavy sigh falls from Wriothesley’s lips as he collapses onto the couch, narrowly missing where your legs were outstretched. Defeatedly, he lays his head against the back of the sofa, shutting his eyes as he thinks a little harder. “Oh my god,” he says suddenly, head shooting up to look at you, “…don’t tell me.”

No way. Did he figure it out?

Your breath captures in your throat as his eyes flicker back and forth between your own, searching for some sort of truth. He knows. Your best friend knows that you have feelings for him — and not just the platonic kind.

His brows furrow and his face morphs into one of disgust. It makes your heart drop; the way he’s looking at you.

He doesn’t feel the same way.

“I can’t believe it,” he clicks his tongue in disgust, crossing his arms and turning his attention away from you, “you like Furina.”

Your jaw drops to the floor and suddenly you don’t feel bad anymore, “I actually can’t believe you just said that. Archons, I think you need to visit Sigewinne. I mean, seriously! Furina? Of all people!”

He grins and shrugs carelessly, “I don’t know? She was the last person I could think of.”

“Something is seriously wrong with you.”

“Clearly not so wrong that I couldn’t figure out that the person you actually like is me.”

“Oh please, I don’t even—wait, what? You knew?!”

A boisterous laugh erupts suddenly as you stare at him with wide eyes. You sit up on the couch quickly, slapping his shoulder as he continues to laugh, “Sorry, sorry!”

You don’t find it amusing, “I—when did you figure it out?”

His laugh eventually subsides into a drawn out sigh and his blue eyes soften a bit as they gaze into your own, “I’m not an idiot, you know? I wouldn’t be running this place if I was.”

“Right,” you mumble awkwardly, averting your gaze from his, “so, um, were you just doing all that to lighten the mood so you could let me down easily or…?”

“Or…what?” Wriothesley mocks you, a playful smirk pulling at his lips.

You roll your eyes with a scoff, “don’t make me say it.”

He spares you, luckily. It’s unlike him, but he doesn’t care to joke with you any longer when the subject is so serious, “Yes, I feel the same way. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“No, I totally wanted to hear you say you hate me and want me dead,” you say sarcastically, trying to fight a smile.

“I’m being serious, I really do like you,” Wriothesley presses, ignoring the way you’re becoming awkward from the nervousness floating in the air.

You finally exhale the breath you had been guarding in your chest, relieved that this didn’t go as horribly as you once thought it would.

The alarm sounding for dinner goes off after and you both stand from your places on the couch, “So what do we do now that that’s out of the way?”

Wriothesley falls into step next to you, holding the doors to his office open to let you out first, “We have our first date in the cafeteria, of course.”

Your face drops and you stop in your tracks to glare at him, “That better be a joke.”

He laughs it off quickly, not thinking you’d take it so seriously. Eagerly, he grabs your hand tightly in his as he pulls you to the exit of the Fortress, “Relax, I’m just teasing you! You deserve only the best, after all.”

“You are so annoying.”

“Only for you, sweetheart.”

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact fanfiction #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x you #wriothesley x y/n

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saetoru · 7 months

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underground fighter wriothesley who absolutely melts whenever you patch him up n place the softest kisses over his bruises n stuff :((

- 🦋 anon

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ WE, NOT I — WRIOTHESLEY.

contents. underground fighter! wriothesley, gn! reader (he gifts you flowers, perfume and a necklace though, so if that is fem! coded to you, there’s your warning), mentions of foster care and being orphaned (wriothesley), mentions of blood, bruises, and injuries (wriothesley), slight angst but overall fluff ending

money’s tight—has been for a while, actually. wriothesley doesn’t like to talk about it, doesn’t like to open up even though he knows you won’t think any less of him. but you notice the small things, always do.

it’s the way you buy groceries for two, the way he’s always over for dinner one way or another, the way he seems to spend more and more time at your place than his. money’s tight, even if he doesn’t like to admit it—and you could never force it out of him, but you think letting him stay with you while he can could help ease the burden of living even if a little.

he’s grateful—a little roundabout in the ways he shows it, but grateful all the same.

and then the presents start to come.

it’s small at first: those expensive macarons you like from that bakery, the bouquet of roses that couldn’t be cheap, a nice dinner he insists he can pay for every once in a while. and then it starts to get bigger: fancy tea from the side of town neither of you even think about shopping at, perfume from a brand you can’t even pronounce, a necklace that’s more than what you can afford yourself.

it starts out slow, and then all at once, wriothesley has what you imagine to be more money than he knows what to do with. because why else spoil you like this? why else blow money on things for you when he could be putting it towards himself?

not everyone gets to have a head start at life—wriothesley is proof of that. it’s hard, more than most people realize, to be orphaned so young and move through foster home after foster home. he’d gone to jail once too—he doesn’t talk about that either, and you never ask. it’s hard, more than anyone gives him credit for, to be knocked down by life so many times and make a living for yourself.

you can’t understand where the sudden change comes from, can’t pinpoint where along the line he started getting so comfortable. it’s not unwelcome, you would never want to watch him just barely scrap by, but it concerns you how he seems to have so much all at once.

and then you get your answer.

“what—what happened to you?” you ask in disbelief, eyeing the blood caked by his nose and around his knuckles. that’s the best of it, unfortunately—the gashes on his chest and the bruises somehow look even worse.

you’d consider him lucky that his ribs don’t seem cracked.

“just a fight,” he shrugs, not meeting your eyes. wriothesley is a lot of things: resourceful, conniving at times, and braver than most. good at lying is not one of them, however—at least not with you. “just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“where were you, then?” you challenge, staring at him hard enough that he doesn’t have to meet your eyes to shuffle uncomfortably in his spot. he doesn’t answer. you’re almost fed up. “wriothesley,” you say in a warning tone.

there’s a sense of finality he doesn’t like.

“what happened to wrio, sweetheart? you’re killin’ me here, i come home to you all bruised up and you’re here beating me down harder—”

“wriothesley, i’m worried about you,” you whisper tiredly. it’s defeated—it’s almost helpless. he frowns, finally looking up at you from his place between your legs as you sit on the bathroom counter.

“you don’t have to be,” he mumbles, “i can take care on my own. i always have.”

“there’s no being on your own when we’re together,” you shake your head. your hands fall to either side of your body, shoulders slumping in exhaustion. “don’t you understand? neither of us is supposed to be on our own anymore—not when the other is here.”

“yeah,” he crosses his arms—you try to ignore the wince he lets out as he moves, “and now you’re not handling things on your own anymore. i’m carrying my weight. just need to fight a guy or two.”

“you’re carrying your weight by fighting?” you blink at the realization. he doesn’t look you in your eyes, keeping them trained on the floor again. “oh my god—is that what these are from? because….because you’re fighting some punks in the middle of the night? that’s illegal—and you could get in trouble again—”

he doesn’t seem to like being reminded of his past. that’s clear when he clicks his teeth and glares at you. “and what am i supposed to do, stay cooped up in your place and eat your food?” he asks bitterly, making your brows furrow.

“not necessarily, but you can—”

“what, so i just live paycheck to paycheck and shower at your place and sleep in your bed so my water and electricity bills aren’t too high for the month?”

“wrio—”

“i’m earning, aren’t i? what’s the big deal?”

“the big deal is this,” you wave your hand exasperatedly, tears welling up by the lash line of your eyes as you stare at his bruises with trembling lips, “look at you. it’s not worth it if you come back to me like this.”

“but i come back,” he mumbles, taking your hand—he kisses the knuckles, rubs a rough thumb over the smooth skin before laying your palm against his cheek and sighing. “i always come back.”

you love wriothesley—have since the day you met him, you think. he’s easy to fall for like that, to feel your stomach go in twists and knots every time he makes a sarcastic joke and throws you a charming smile. life has been tough on the man you love, unfairly so. it’s hit him harder and harder and pushed him back to his knees before he ever got a chance to fully stand up.

he’s hitting back, now. maybe in a more literal sense than you’d hoped, but….but maybe you can help him if you can’t change him. maybe you can keep the pieces together until the plaster holds and they’re not so fragile anymore.

“i don’t like seeing you hurt,” you whisper, leaning in to kiss the broken skin on his cheekbone, “you don’t have to do all this. we were doing okay before that.”

we. he shudders at that. it’s always we and never i—even when you did all the heavy lifting. even when he was barely getting by and you were giving more than you should’ve had to, more than he should’ve needed. it’s always we. never i.

you and him.

“i know,” he melts, humming as your fingers thread into his tousled hair, scratching his scalp as he buries his face into your neck, “just let me save a bit more. and then i’ll do something real with myself. i promise.”

you pull away after a bit, taking in every bruise and every cut, every dry patch of blood and swollen patch of skin. it’s shaky at first, your voice when you finally speak.

“‘s all bruised,” you say quietly, running a finger over the marks littering his chest. he’s painfully still—doesn’t move a muscle as you lean in slowly and press a kiss to the purplish stain on his skin, gently trailing them to the next one, and the next one, and the next one. “you don’t deserve all this.”

“yeah?” he chuckles—its breathy, a little strained. your arms loop around his waist and bring him closer, “what a sweet thing,” he coos, “nobody ever treats me so gentle.”

you frown at that. the world is not gentle with wriothesley—you’ll have to be extra gentle to make up for it.

“you’ll be safe? you’ll pull out when it’s too much, right? and you’ll come back? without being too hurt, right? wrio, you can’t—”

“yeah, yeah, i got it,” he huffs, pressing his forehead to yours, letting your hands cup his cheeks. he leans closer to your touch, shudders as you slowly trace his cheek with your thumb, “just wait at home all pretty for me, yeah? i’ll bring you back something nice.”

“bring me back yourself in once piece,” you huff.

“done,” he smiles, “i’m strong, if you haven’t noticed.”

“yeah? explain this,” you challenge, pressing down on a bruise and making him wince.

“you should see the other guy,” he whines, burying his face back into your neck. you roll your eyes, there’s a scoff in your throat but a smile on your lips.

wriothesley is safe—for now, that’s all you can ask for.

“i love you,” you mumble, “so much. no matter what, okay?”

“no need to get so emotional on me, baby,” he chuckles—and then there’s a tightening of strong arms around your body, a kiss pressed delicately to your neck before a soft, “but i love you too” is murmured into your skin.

“i hope you’re ready to clean those cuts. they’ll sting for sure,” you grumble as you pull away. he grins—handsome, charming, yours.

“will you kiss them better?” he bats his lashes, making you snort.

“no.”

i might make this a reoccurring drabble series too idk yet. anyway you know what else he can beat up ?? this pussy ;)

#teepods.writings #drabbles.#wriothesley x reader #wriothesley fluff #wriothesley x you #wriothesley angst #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin fluff #genshin angst #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact angst #wrio x reader #wrio x you #wrio fluff #wrio angst

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kennarose1108 · 1 year

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Clingy (Miguel O'Hara x Reader)

At the beginning of your relationship, Miguel was distant from you as you expected him to be. He didn't want to get close to you because he didn't want to feel the need to depend on you. He lost so much and he was afraid if he got close to you he'd lose you too. But as time went on he grew more attached to you. You were so kind and beautiful he just couldn't get enough of you.

But as he got more attached his fear of losing you grew and it got more clingy towards you, afraid if he let you go you'd somehow die on him. He didn't want to smother you of course and he kept his distance when he realized he was doing too much but you honestly didn't mind his clinginess. It always reminded you of how far you came with him and you felt loved.

Nights were the worst for Miguel though, he always clung to you when you both went to bed and if he woke up and you weren't in his arms he'd always check the bed and every time you were there. He'd reach his hand out to touch the fabric and your body was always there to meet with his hand. Then he'd pull you closer to him and he'd fall back asleep. He was afraid in the night someone would take you away from him, it was one of his worst fears.

Because of his anxieties, you tried not to get out of bed at night. If you needed to use the bathroom you'd try to be quiet to not wake him and freak him out. And you always succeeded. But tonight was different. You woke up and felt your throat was abnormally dry. You couldn't fall back asleep with your throat like this, it just wasn't possible. So you quietly got out of bed and headed to the kitchen.

As you were in the kitchen Miguel woke up. He felt you weren't in his arms anymore and he reached out to touch you… But you weren't there. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and continued to search for you, but still nothing. Then his eyes shot open and he noticed the empty spot next to him and the panic set in. He sat up and called for you, "Y/N?!" He yelled. His anxieties were telling him the worst, he was afraid someone kidnapped you or even killed you.

He hopped out of bed and pushed through the bedroom door, "Y/N?!?" He yelled again. You jumped as the impact of the door hitting the wall scared you. His body psychically untensed when he saw you in the kitchen with a glass of water in your hand. "Miguel? Honey, what's wrong?" You ask as you set the glass on the counter with a concerned look on your face. His body was visibly shaking and his breathing was hard. You walked over to Miguel and gently brushed your hand against his cheek. "I'm okay… I was just getting some water… I'm still here with you, don't worry." You say while resting your hand against his chest. You felt his heart beating fast and you frowned. "Go back to bed Miguel… I'll be there in a moment, okay?" You say with a reassuring smile. Miguel nodded and slowly walked back into the room.

You walked back to your glass and drank down the liquid. When you finished you placed the glass into the sink and walked back into the room. When you walked in Miguel was sitting up in bed and looking down at the bed in sadness. Your heart broke at the sight of him looking so defeated. You walked over to Miguel and ran your fingers through his hair.

He leaned into your touch and sighed. You crawled into his lap and straddled his hips. You pulled him into a hug and he wraps his arms tightly around your body. He rested his face into the crook of your neck and you rubbed your fingernails gently along his scalp and his back.

"I'm sorry…" Miguel mumbled. "You have nothing to be sorry for… It's okay to be afraid." You say while placing a kiss on his head. "Yeah but… I feel like I'm smothering you…" Miguel murmurs. "Miguel. Look at me." You say while pulling away and cupping his cheeks. He looked into your eyes and you noticed the tears in them, you frown even more. "You're not smothering me. I love being close to you and I understand why you're afraid. Nothing that you have done has ever bothered me." You say with a reassuring smile. Your words seemed to relax Miguel. He nodded and he blinked away the tears in his eyes. "Okay… Now, let's go back to sleep hm?" You say before placing a kiss on his nose.

As you were about to crawl to your side of the bed Miguel stopped you. One of the hands that were on your waist traveled up and cupped one of your cheeks. He then leaned in and kissed your lips and you returned the kiss with a smile. The kiss was gentle and full of love… Just full of love, nothing else. He pulled away and smiled at you. You smiled back before crawling to your side of the bed. You went under the covers and laid down, Miguel doing the same. He pulled you close to his body and held you tight and you returned the favor by wrapping your arms tightly around his torso. He sighed in relaxation and he felt comfortable and content with you.

"Te amo más que a nada mi amor…" Miguel whispered in your ear as you drifted off into sleep.

#miguel o'hara imagines #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o'hara smut #miguel #miguel o'hara #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #spider man #spider-man #into the spider verse #spider verse #across the spiderverse

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eternally-racing · 5 months

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keep her safe | lando norris

pairing: dad! lando x wife! reader (+ their teenage daughter!)

genre: fluff & angst-ish

warnings: racing crash, reader/lando's kid is in the hospital, some swearing

wc: 1.4k

summary: Nothing prepares you for the feeling of watching your daughter's first crash in formula 3.

note: this fic can be read as part of the racer girl series or as a stand alone as well!

----

Lando always hated pulling the “I’m a celebrity” card when you two were out in public. He's never wanted the special treatment that companies wanted to give him before, but the minute he sees his daughter crash in her first Formula 3 race, he’s trying to pull out every trump card he has to get his way into the medical tent.

“That’s my fucking daughter in there, you can’t keep her from me! This is absolutely insane! I’m Lando fucking Norris, don’t you know who I am?” Lando is yelling and yelling and you hold him back by the wrist because otherwise you think he might actually charge at the door to try and get through it.

He more than anyone here knows what a bad crash looks like, and from the minute he saw your daughter, Piper, go into the barriers he knew that it was a rough one. There’s cameras swarming around you both but he doesn’t care (It’s not like he was a PR team’s dream when he was a driver himself). That’s his little girl in there and she’s hurt. There’s now a full commotion in front of the medical area and Lando admits defeat as he sinks back into the wall behind him and crumbles to the floor with you following suit.

“She’s afraid of needles, Y/N.” Lando says no louder than a whisper towards the shut doors “Who’s gonna tell them that she’s afraid of needles if I’m not there?”

You know that if she’s in a state where they’re not letting you see her and she’s being transferred to the hospital that she likely has already gotten a lot of needles and wasn’t conscious enough to feel them, but you keep that information to yourself once you see the worried look on Lando’s face. This exact moment is something you two had worried about ever since your little girl first stepped in a kart, and somehow it was worse than you had ever imagined it would be.

By the time you and Lando make it to the hospital it feels like hours have gone by, even though in reality it hadn’t been more than a handful of minutes. Lando’s never been more grateful for his success when a nurse recognizes him and immediately guides you both in the direction of Piper’s room. He’s not sure he would’ve been able to make it through a conversation right now anyways.

The scene inside is every parent’s worst nightmare. There are lines going in and out of Piper’s arms and bags of fluid are hung next to her bed; there are too many machines beeping and showing numbers and graphs that you just can’t understand. You feel Lando’s knees buckle beside yours and you keep an arm around his waist to keep him steady. You both need each other right now, there’s no doubt about that.

When Piper cries out for her daddy from the hospital bed it brings a fresh set of tears to your eyes. You can’t remember the last time Piper actually called Lando daddy, it had been “dad” for the most part or “Mr.Norris” if she felt like being cheeky, but hearing those words from her mouth brought you right back to when she was a little girl, your little girl.

Lando rushes to her side and has both hands caressing her face. He knows that she’s been checked over by the doctors, but he needs to see for himself that she’s really okay. He presses his forehead against hers as they cry together. You’ll never fully understand what Piper’s just been through, but the man standing in front of her does all too well.

You hang back a bit to talk to the doctors, who try to give you a comprehensive update on her status, but as soon as you hear the words “she’s fine and on track to make a complete recovery” you zone out as you finally let out the breath that it feels like you’ve been holding this whole time. You’re about to go rejoin your family once you hear the next words out of your daughter’s mouth.

“I’m sorry dad, I know this meant a lot to you.” Piper sighs as she pulls the hospital sheets up to her chin. “Did I at least make it around a lap? Am I the youngest ever female formula 3 driver to complete a lap in a grand prix?”

This is when Lando has to face the music - he got so excited about his daughter dreaming of Formula 1 that he may have pushed her a little too far if his daughter is more worried about beating records than she is about her own health. Lando tries to calm his own breathing as he grabs both of Piper’s hands to lay on his own to get her full attention. He wants to make sure she fully understands what he’s about to say.

“You’re always going to be my little girl, Pipes. Racing or not, I am always proud of you. I never want you to feel like you have to impress me.” Lando doesn’t even answer Piper’s question about the record because frankly he has no idea. He’s never once cared about awards and prizes and all of the fancy shit. All he’s ever wanted is for her to be happy, and he tells her exactly that.

Piper stops crying long before Lando does, and you’re amazed by the maturity your daughter shows as she starts wiping the tears from your husband’s eyes. You all just need a little family cuddle so you do exactly that, and take a moment to appreciate the lives that the three of you have and how precious that is. The sentimental moment is only broken by your daughter, who says that she has a little request for the two of you.

“Do you think you can ask the doctors if they can give me the good stuff that you got back in Vegas all those years ago, dad?”

Moments like this remind you that Piper is her father’s daughter and it earns a laugh from you both.

“Not a chance, kid, but good try.”

For the first time in what feels like years, the 3 of you sleep in one bed together. It’s one teeny tiny hospital bed made for a teenager, so you both wake up with extremely sore backs but very full hearts. Piper’s the first to fall asleep, understandably spent from the day she’s been through, but you notice Lando’s eyes never leave her, as if he’s worried she’ll disappear if he looks away. You reach over to grab his hand, you get it. Call it parental instinct, but that feeling of anxiety after something bad happens to your child is just something you can’t push away, and you want him to know that you’re here for him. You both wordlessly take turns watching over Piper throughout the night, holding her hand through blood draws and med deliveries.

Lando spends all day and night at Piper’s side while she’s recovering, and it’s only when you and your daughter tell him that he smells absolutely horrendous and needs to go shower do you finally get him to take a beat for himself. He still calls 3 times on the drive home from the hospital alone to check how Piper’s doing, and you have to threaten to not pick up the next time he calls before he finally takes a bit of a break. So often it feels like children drift away from their parents in their teenage years, but Piper’s recovery has given you both the opportunity to spend some much needed time with her as she grows up.

The minute Piper is cleared by the medical team she’s instantly back in the simulator. She’s a little daredevil like her daddy after all. Lando of course asks over and over again if she’s doing this for herself and not him, the fear of making the same mistakes as earlier weighing heavy on his mind. Your daughter is nothing if not honest, so she tells him about how she loves the sport itself but also loves the way she’s able to connect to her dad through it. Lando makes her pinky promise that she’ll let her know if she ever changes her mind on the subject, and lucky for you both, she never does.

---

author's note: this was based on a lovely request from a reader! if you have any requests feel free to drop them in my ask box :) If you liked this piece and haven't read racer girl yet, give it a read because I'm sure you'll love that one too!

Until next time! - Em <;3

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luveline · 6 months

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i have a request for bombshell!reader if you're up for it!! <33 maybe somehow the team finding out that they're *actually* together and their reactions to it!! it would be soo funny i think naisnakaka 😭 thank you and i hope you have a good day!!

thank you lovely, you too ♡ fem

Emily isn't expecting it. She's been betting on you both for months, she has money in the pool, but knowing you're together versus really truly seeing you together are surprisingly separate things.

Spencer has you up against a wall. It's funny but it isn't, how shockingly intimate the moment is, how you're looking at him like he's hung the moon just for you. “It's not a bad thing,” you're saying, a hand pressed softly to his front.

He's not kissing you or anything salacious, he's not even really shoving you, he's just got his hands on you, one on your shoulder holding you to the wall and the other just under your arm. “I know it's not, don't worry–”

“I do worry. I don't want you thinking that anything about you is wrong.”

Emily should walk away. This is clearly private, but she's just never seen you both like this. She had her suspicions, that behind the shy touches (and the more confident ones from you) and secret smiles was a real, intimate relationship, but to see it displayed in front of her has her jaw dropping.

“I don't think that," he says quietly, ducking his head in a way that forces you to make eye contact. Emily might call it brave, but it would be better labelled as comfortable. Spencer's not shy because he knows he can be vulnerable with you, and he's reassuring you now because you can do the same. “Why would I think that?” He kisses you.

It's sudden. Emily almost gasps.

He pulls away, says, “You don't need to think about that kind of stuff, angel, I know who I am,” over your lips, and then he kisses you again.

“I just love you,” you say, words half lost in the kissing and the quiet.

Emily shakes herself and backs away, guilt like lead in her fingertips. She should not have watched so long, no matter how curious, but it's not as though you're in a private place, it's a shared conference room—

“What's with the face?”

Emily waves her hand, as if to say, don't talk, but Morgan's a fiend and JJ not much better, looking over Emily's shoulder eager for the drama. “What, Prentiss?” Morgan asks.

“Y/N and Spencer,” she whispers, giving in.

Morgan's face is a picture, and predictable. He shuffles around Emily and JJ follows, her lips parted in surprise.

Morgan peeks inside, and doubles back, pushing JJ before she can get a look. “Wait!” she insists in a whisper shout.

“That's not PG viewing.”

Emily saw it herself, but she still can't believe it. Nor can she believe when you appear from the conference room together unabashed ten minutes later, Spencer's hair in disarray, his cheeks (and his whole face) a rosy pink. You sit at your desk and Spencer touches your shoulder, promising you a cup of coffee.

You're smiling as you reapply your lipstick. Your teammates look on in poor acts of casualness.

“You guys are perverts,” you murmur, rubbing your lips together to spread the colour evenly.

“I– we–” Emily sits back in her seat, defeated. “You could've told us.”

“Should've,” JJ says.

“Thought you guys already knew.” You put the cap back on your lipstick and beam at them. “I'm not subtle, am I? But don't tease him too much, okay? We wouldn't want to torture him.”

“Come on,” Morgan laughs.

Spencer returns with your coffee. He's not subtle, either, come to think of it, putting your coffee mug carefully on your coaster. “That okay?” he asks.

You don't even try it. “That's perfect, handsome, thank you.”

He strokes the soft line of your jaw with the back of his finger, a split second touch that practically glances off of you, and heads back to the kitchenette. Morgan gets up, presumably to chase him down for congratulations, while the girls move in.

“It's actually funny how it happened,” you say immediately. “I kissed him by accident.”

“How do you kiss someone by accident?” JJ asks. Emily nods furiously in agreement.

“Surprisingly easily,” you say, looking as pleased as a person can be. “It was a few weeks ago, we were in the police precinct in Jacobsville…”

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader

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calypsocolada · 17 days

Text

how the jjk boys ask you to be their girlfriend...ft. choso, gojo, nanami

authors note: saw the leaks. no spoilers in this fic btw. iykyk. gege is a criminal.

cw: fem reader, angst, lovey dovey, not proofread

wc: 2.7k

One morning you wake up and stumble upon Choso in the kitchen, he was struggling with something, pots and pans scattered.

“Choso?” You ask, he spins around, looking slightly alarmed.

“You’re awake,” He stuns, his lips parted. You raise your brows, nodding your head.

“It’s almost 11, you let me sleep in.” You say. Choso turns as though he’s hiding something.

“I-- wanted to surprise you.” He says, seeing his face in full now you can see some white powder on his cheek and streaks of the powder in his hair.

“Surprise me?” You ask, walking closer. Choso looks a bit defeated as he moves to show you a scene of pure horror. He tried to cook you breakfast. Everything was burnt, even a cup of coffee, somehow. Your lips part in unspoken words as you try and comprehend this moment.

“Wow. Uh… Choso, this uh… this looks delicious.” Your words were the most unconvincing thing you’d probably spoken in your entire life.

“You’re nice. This is a disaster. I’ve never cooked before.” He explains. Yeah, you figured that.

“You were surprising me with breakfast?” You ask as Choso looks down at you, his once pale cheeks had the slightest hint of blush across them. He nods his head and you smile up at him graciously. “That’s very kind of you.” He looks away, slightly dejected.

“I can clean this up and try again.” He says. You reach up and wipe the powder from his cheek and it halts his actions.

“Or we can cook breakfast together?” You ask. He’s at a loss for words, your hand is still on his cheek afterall. You raise a brow and he blinks a few times as if coming out of a haze.

“Together?” He asks as you nod your head, letting your hand drop.

“Yeah, we’ll clean this up and I’ll teach you how to properly cook, hmm?” You ask, reaching for a rag.

“Then I’ll surprise you myself tomorrow.” He says, gaining a small laugh out of you.

“Not much of a surprise if you tell me, Choso.” You say, easing the tension in Choso’s body as he smiles warmly down at you.

The cooking was the easy part. Choso was a quick learner and though sometimes he had a hard time paying attention with you so close to him he still managed to flip a pancake or two. As you set the table, Choso grabbed you both some juice. You sat down, Choso choosing to sit in the chair next to you rather than the one across from you. You gave him a smile as you two ate in comfortable silence. That was until…

“Do you have a boyfriend?” The question was so out of left field you almost spit out your drink. You wiped your lip and turned to Choso.

“What?” You asked, even though you heard him you weren’t sure if you heard him correctly.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“A boyfriend?” You echo, Choso nods his head. “Like… a romantic thing?” Choso slightly smirks, nodding his head again. You felt silly for that question but you were slightly off balance at the moment “Uhm… I... Why do you ask?” You feel your heartbeat in your chest with the way Choso looks at you.

“So you’re single?” He asks, sort of doubling down on his question. You stare at him for a moment.

“Yeah,” You say finally. “There isn’t much time to date around at school, so…”

“Oh,” Choso says. You watch him curiously as he sort of calmly returns to eating his food for a moment. He leans slightly closer to you, his voice taking a slightly more serious tone. “Could you make time?”

“Make time… for a boyfriend?” You ask. Choso’s eyes flicker between your eyes and your lips as he nods his head.

“Yes.”

“I guess… it would depend.” You say, your heart in your throat. Has he always been this close? His eyes land back on yours and stay there.

“On what?”

“On who it is.” You answer and watch the corners of his mouth turn up just slightly in a small smile. He continues to hold eye contact, even as he takes a drink.

“How about me?” There’s silence for a moment. You're dumbfounded. Choso’s enthralled in you. Once things settle a bit in your mind an amused scoff passes your lips.

“Is this… Choso, are you asking me out?”

“And if I am?” He counters. Where did all this… confidence come from? You didn’t even think Choso knew what romance and relationships beyond family were. Nevertheless you blush at his remark. “I’m hoping you say yes.”

“I… wish I could.” You say, looking away. Choso notices your chance in demeanor. His smile fades just a bit as he asks.

“Why not?”

“I… lost a lot of people during the incident in Shibuya. I’m just afraid that if… you become any more important to me than fate will take you like all the others.” You say, looking back at your plate of food. Your words were bullshit, he was already very important to you, there was nothing you could do to change that but hopeless you tried. Tried to cling to the last bit of sanity you had left. The last bit of yourself that wasn’t consumed with grief. Choso’s expression softens at your words. He could understand exactly what you meant.

“I’m afraid of losing you too.” He says. There is silence before you look up, meeting his eyes. He takes in a breath and scoots just a bit closer to you. Just enough to speak in a quiet voice. “But I would much rather have a chance to be happy and live in that gnawing fear rather than spending my life alone thinking of what could’ve been.” Your heart swells at his words. A warm smile spreads slowly on your lips.

“That’s… that sounds nice, Choso.”

“Thank you. I guess I’m a bit of a hopeless romantic.”

“Not all hopeless.” You say and watch the blush just grow. He looks down at the smile on your soft lips and raises his brows slightly.

“Can I…”

“Can you?”

“Kiss you?” His voice is barely louder than a whisper, despite the butterflies raving in his stomach he keeps his eyes on you. You suck in a breath but after a moment you nod your head. Choso’s smile widens, his heart skipping a beat as he gently reaches out to brush a loose lock of your hair away from your face. When he’s sure he has your complete attention he leans in to you and presses his lips very gently against yours. After a serene moment he pulls back, pressing a kiss to your forehead before pressing his forehead to yours. “So… Can I be yours?”

“Did you have so much fun?” Was the first sentence out of Gojo’s mouth the moment you walked in the door. You ignored him, the man was clearly jealous you had gone on a date. You stripped off your jacket, hanging it on the coat rack near the door. Your hair was slightly wet from the rain so you wrung it out on the front door mat. You heard Gojo getting up from the couch and you sighed.

“Don’t you have your own place? Or at least someone better to annoy?” You sibilated as you kicked off your shoes.

“What kind of man lets his date walk in the rain?” He huffs.

“I don’t mind the rain. Nor do I mind walking.” You retort, looking up at Gojo. He looked… stressed to say the least. His hair is a mess, it looked as though he ran his fingers through it at least a hundred times.

“You might not mind but you could get a cold.” He says. You laugh, rolling your eyes.

“Alright, dad. I’m heading to bed.” You say, walking towards your room. Gojo catches your wrist as you walk by.

“Did you have fun?” He asks, the words sounding pained.

“So so much fun.” You returned sarcastically. It was a fine date, but that was all. It wasn’t remarkable and you probably wouldn’t go out again with him. Gojo swallows, biting on his lower lip gently.

“Where’d you guys eat?”

“A burger place.”

“You hate burgers.” Gojo points out.

“He doesn’t know that.” You sigh. “And besides they had other foods.”

“He should know it.”

“Satoru,” You demurred. Gojo’s eyes cut to yours and a moment of tension sparked. “I just met him.”

“Didn’t he take what you like into account.”

“Are you jealous or something?” You ask amused.

“Yes.” Gojo answers simply. You blink a few times. “Yes. I’m very fucking jealous.”

“Oh.” Is all you can say. It was surprising.

“Oh?” Gojo mocks, running his hand through his hair. “I thought I was making it very clear about my jealousy.”

“I don’t read people well. And maybe instead of pouting like a kid you could’ve just asked me out yourself instead of pestering me after each date.” You hiss, pulling your wrist out of his grip. Gojo raises his eyebrows as if he hadn’t thought of that. “You’re hopeless, Sat-” Gojo leans into you, pressing his lips to yours, cutting off your sentence. You jolt at the contact. The kiss setting fires in places that had been long waterlogged. You shiver as Gojo’s hand slides against your face, his other around your hip, drawing you closer to him.

“Will you let me take you out?”He whispers against your lips. "Please?"

“And the flights are all booked?” Nanami asks as you nod your head with a smile. Nanami smiles warmly back at you.

“Good girl, are you ready to go?”

“Uh huh.” You say as you reach for your bags but Nanami beats you to it, lifting them with ease. You thank him as you two climb into the cab. You pull up the flight information as Nanami buckles your seat belt.

“You look very pretty.” He whispers to you, sending chills down your spine. Your eyes cut up to his in surprise. You weren’t dressed up, just in an old sweatshirt he loaned you at the Christmas office party three years ago and your dad’s old sweatpants.

“T-thank you.” You return, your voice small. Nanami gives you another small smile. You look away, slightly flustered and back at your phone. For the most part you and Nanami’s relationship had been pretty professional. You were glad that he let your little mishap from two weeks ago pass after you profusely apologized. You had drank just a bit too much at one of his conferences and on the way back up to your guy’s rooms that were directly across from each other you kissed him. You were drunk and Nanami was a gentleman, he let you down very easily and helped you into bed before leaving for his own room. But… ever since that night Nanami had acted slightly differently towards you. Less professional, more open. He laughed more, smiled more. You two went out for dinner at least three times in the last week. And for this conference he’d sprung for everything nice, the biggest hotel room, first class and even planned to stay a few days after the conference so he could show you around his home town. Nanami had been treating you like something special for a while but now it was turned up a dial. He was constantly carrying things for you, buying things you merely looked at. It made you think how lucky the girl that ended up with him would be.

As you two landed and headed towards the hotel Nanami held the door open for you, even as he carried your luggage.

“Are you sure I can’t help carry something, sir?” You ask as Nanami just gives you a gentle nod of the head and drapes his jacket over your shoulder as you two walk out into the cold. It was winter and when Nanami grew up it was freezing. You blush as you slide into another cab, Nanami beside you.

“Warm enough?” He asks, noticing you slightly shivering.

“It’s cold here.” You remark as Nanami nods his head, moving closer to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. You freeze, heart lurching into your throat at the movement.

“Better?” He asks as you nod your head quickly. Nanami was like a personal heater and the moment you warmed up you dozed off. You woke up to Nanami’s calm voice as the cab pulled up to the hotel. “Let’s get you inside.” He says.

The hotel room was like an apartment. Two rooms, a pool on the balcony, though it was entirely too cold for that. There was a giant shared bathroom the size of your apartment back home. You marveled as you walked inside. It was nice and warm, the inside sort of like a log cabin, with warm wooden decor and buffalo check red and black curtains. It looked like something right out of a Christmas movie. Nanami ordered room service as you cleaned up. He set the table and by the time you got out of shower and changed the food was here. You sat across from him at the little table by the window as he poured you a glass of wine. You smiled at him, hunger twisting your stomach.

“You’re too kind. This all is very fancy.”

“You deserve it.” He says warmly. You can’t help but blush. You can’t help but wish you weren’t just his assistant.

“You make my job easy.” You say as Nanami chuckles.

“So do you.” He returns. You blush even harder as you eat, he got you your favorite food and favorite type of wine. If you weren’t his assistant you would assume he was being romantic. After a few glasses of wine you decide enough is enough.

“Sir… uhm.” You struggle with your words. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, darling.” He returns. His voice is like warm honey. It makes you crumble, makes your thought train derail.

“Uh… well um… I was wondering… do you or… I guess are you… seeing someone?” You bumble out. Nanami raises his brows and you suddenly feel embarrassed.

“I am. Seeing you, aren’t I?” He says. For a moment you're frozen and then you laugh.

“I meant… romantically.” You clarify.

“I know what you meant.” Nanami says. For a moment you stare at him. Trying to reel in this moment, trying to understand.

“I don’t… understand.” You say and watch Nanami laugh warmly.

“I was hoping you’d catch on yourself.” Nanami carefully reaches across the table. “You never had to apologize for kissing me, dear. I… have wanted to kiss you for a long while.”

“You what?” You echo as he brings your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles. You blush like crazy.

“I have wanted to kiss you for years. You just beat me to it.”

“I… Uh. W-wow. I can’t believe I’ve been so stupid.” You laugh. “You’ve been taking me out on dates?”

“Uh huh.”

“And buying me things as presents.”

“Yes, dear.”

“I’m so stupid.” You laugh as Nanami shakes his head, standing up and walking around the table. He bends to his knees beside you, looking up at you. Your hand is still in his as he kisses you knuckles again.

“You’re not stupid. I should’ve just told you.” He says. You smile at him, biting your lips slightly.

“So… you like me back?” Stupid question but Nanami doesn’t say anything. He just slowly kisses his way up your arm, sending chills down your body. His lips meet your shoulder, then your neck and you gasp.

“I do, darling. Very much so.” He whispers against your jaw as he places soft kisses there.

“You want to date me?” You blurt out, your voice a husky whisper.

“So badly.” He answers. “It’s killing me.” His hand snakes up and he gently turns your face so your lips are millimeters apart. “May I kiss y-” You push forwards meeting his lips with fever.

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sharkorok · 4 months

Text

five more minutes?

or…trying to sneak niki out on a school day

requested: naurrr

cw/genre: fluff, swearing, humor, soft niki, delinquent niki and good kid reader, shouldbegn!reader, lmk if anything else should be tagged!!

a/n: OML I’m so sorry about not posting situationship texts <333 they’re getting a little draining to write it just makes me sad HASHAJSH but I’m so glad u guys lov them so I promise I’ll get to the requests as soon as I can, anyways I hope u enjoy this!!

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

-ok so ur the PERFECT student, polite, good grades, drop dead gorgeous, every teacher’s fave…

-and niki has a great personality ☺️

-you two r polar opposites, you spend your free time studying and socializing while he’s chilling in detention LOLZ, and yet u still ended up dating!! yay!!

-and somehow he managed to convince you to let him stay the night. On a school night. While ur parents were home.

“Niki, it’s four am, you need to get out of my house before both of our parents’ are on our ass,” you groaned. You woke up extra early to ensure you’d have enough time to get him out of your house before your parents awoke to find a 6’ stranger in your bed.

“It’s four am, they won’t be up,” he murmured back, nuzzling his face into the crook of your shoulder, his arms loosely wrapped around your waist.

“We literally have school, cmon,” you nudged, even though you stroked his hair. He laughed softly, his morning voice causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach. “Niki,” you whined, as he mumbled some nonsense you didn’t understand. “It’s a school day!”

“You can miss a day,” he retorted.

“I’ve had perfect attendance for five months now, I am not skipping,” you scoffed. He squeezed your waist, yawning and seeming completely oblivious to your quiet panicking. What would your parents do if they found Niki like this? What if they broke you two up? What if you were grounded forever and could never see Niki again? Still, you had to admit, the way his hands traced patterns on your back as he softly hummed, his breath on your neck, you might fall asleep right then and there.

“Cmon, five more minutes,” he sighed contentedly.

“Promise?”

“Promise. I’ll even buy you boba after school,” you felt him smile, as you couldn’t help but laugh.

“You’re such a bad influence. Are you sure you won’t get in trouble?” You asked worriedly.

“Womp womp, doesn’t matter. It’s worth it for you,” you ruffled his hair, huffing in defeat.

“Fine, fine. Five more minutes.”

-you two fell back asleep and nearly got caught by your mom 😪😪

-you saw him in class with a bruise on his arm after he threw himself out ur window

-u got ur boba tho!!

#enhypen drabbles #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enha imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen headcanons #enhypen reactions #enha fanfic #riki nishimura x reader #riki fluff

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lovelybluebirdie · 4 months

Text

A sight to behold

Astarion x gn!Reader

Summary: Astarion is far more than his beauty, and you want him to know.

Word Count: 1,7k

fluff, comfort

[AO3]

“You should get some rest, love,” Astarion whispers against your hair. He holds you comfortably in his arms, your fingers loosely grasping the end of his collar while his hand strokes along your waist, caressing your battle-bruised skin.

Usually sleep didn’t take long to claim you after an exhausting day of defeating vigorous creatures or learning another disturbing fact on the tadpole inside your brain, but tonight it seems to avoid you for some reason, leaving you tossing and turning within your bedroll until Astarion eventually pulled you into a loving embrace.

“I’m good,” you mutter as a deep yawn escapes your throat, smothering your last syllables.

Astarion cups your chin between his thumb and index finger, surveying your face. “You’re a weary little love if I ever saw one.”

“Fine, you’ve got me,” you reply in a drowsy voice. “Maybe I am a little tired, but somehow I can't find any sleep.”

His brow furrows. “Is anything troubling you, my dear?” he asks sincerely, pondering if he might’ve done something wrong.

The unpleasant thought has no room to spread its hooks any further, as he's met with only fondness from your tired eyes, leaving his ribcage bursting with adoration.

“No need to worry about me, Astarion. I promise, everything’s alright,” you assure as you begin to massage his ears, causing them to twitch.

“You still need to get some sleep though,” he scolds with half-closed lids. It's more of a moan, as he’s unable to suppress his desire for your blissful fingers to go on. You seem to know exactly where he enjoys them most, he notices, when another quiet groan spills from his lips.

You brush the pointy tip of his ear once more, cautiously not to overstimulate this sensitive part of him, before you rest your fingers on his neck and playfully raise an eyebrow.

“Perhaps you’ll allow me to indulge in your beauty a little longer before I find myself dozing off.”

A benign remark, and yet something inside Astarion shifts. Something he can’t fully fathom at first, a faint sense of melancholy starting to linger, despite the comfort of your touch.

He’s been called beautiful more times than he can remember, but he’ll never be able to judge for himself, being robbed of his reflection since Cazador turned him into a vampire spawn centuries ago – his own appearance remaining a dark shape from his past.

“Beauty you say?” he mumbles quietly. “Tell me then, what is it you see when looking at me?”

Your expression softens as you grasp for his hand and squeeze it lightly. It seems you’ve already caught his musings, as you often do, without him needing to vocalise that something’s on his mind.

“Well, your most outstanding features are probably your piercing eyes – crimson, like rubies,” you explain before resting a kiss on his cheek.

Astarion listens attentively. His gaze must indeed be exceptionally sharp, he thinks, trying for a brief moment to recall the colour his eyes were before he was turned, but to no avail. A shiver runs down his spine as he wonders if you might think of him as a dangerous predator at times, uncertain whether this poses a pleasant or a frightening notion.

“Sometimes they’re full of anger, resembling freshly shed blood. And other times they’re… so soft. Reminding me of the cutest puppy eyes I’ve ever seen, almost competing with Scratch,” you giggle as you draw your thumb along his cheekbone, right where your lips parted from his skin.

Astarion stares at you in bewilderment. “What do you mean – puppy eyes?! I’m a century-old vampire spawn, not some gushing maiden.”

“You asked what I’d see when I’m looking at you, didn’t you?” You offer him a mischievous grin before blowing a strand of hair off his forehead. “Or do you prefer me to stop?”

Astarion rolls his eyes and lets out a sigh. “Fine, go on.”

Although not particularly delighted by the comparison you draw, he can’t resist the urge to listen to you further describing him.

“There are also your beautiful white curls – so smooth that I often find myself wondering which soap you use for them to stay that way,” you say as you take one of said strands between your fingers. “Come to think of it, those are probably one of my favourite parts of you, my love.”

“Mhm, I certainly have the best hair in camp,” Astarion purrs approvingly, a smug grin playing around his lips, vanishing the furrow on his brow from your previous remark.

“Don’t let Shadowheart hear,” you joke before continuing. “Of course I also adore your smile – seeing those little wrinkles when you laugh.”

Astarion’s grin freezes as he quickly feels the spot beneath his temples.

“My sweet, you surely must’ve noticed by now that one of a vampire spawn’s rare perks is eternal youth, so I’m quite positive that there are no such things as wrinkles on my face.”

“If you say so,” you chuckle as you reach for his hands to press loving kisses on his fingertips. “This was supposed to be a compliment, you know.”

“Perhaps if I wasn’t your lover, but your doting grandmother,” he grumbles with pursed lips, but doesn’t pull away.

“I sense you desire to listen to some of your less grandmotherly features, then?”

Astarion battles another grin but loses, his lips twisting to a wry smile. “Yes, please.”

It's true, he doesn’t want you to stop, secretly enjoying how sincere you express your sentiments.

“Let’s see if I find some, though…” you tease, earning a gentle nudge to your hip before your eyes are glued to his face again. “Honestly, you're stunningly beautiful, Astarion – a goddamn sight to behold.”

Astarion’s smile widens at your flattery. “Oh dear, that sounds far better than being described with the attributes of an old lady.”

“As I thought,” you reply, brushing one of his curls behind his ear. “But do you want to know what I adore about you most?”

Astarion's eyes grow round. “As humble as I am, I'm always thrilled to receive some more praise.”

He notices a flush to your cheeks as you let your finger slowly trace along the bridge of his nose, until it comes to a rest on his lips.

You clear your throat, seeming in search of the right words.

“You’re so much more than your beauty,” you begin, your fingertip still resting on his bottom lip. He presses a kiss, his curiosity roused.

“I love the way you make me laugh, like no one else can, despite all the madness we have to endure. Or watching you reading for hours, chuckling at little passages you like. Seeing how you squint when you take in the details while you embroider a piece of fabric.”

You pause to cup his face in your hands and smother him with gentle kisses, starting at his jaw, moving up to his nose and then his eyes. Astarion remains silent, graciously relishing your warmth.

Your words and touch are like a balm, and not for the first time he wonders how he came to deserve such kindness.

“Your skin is cold, yes, but no one has ever kept me this warm when being in their presence. You’re brave, and despite everything you had to endure, you turned into this wonderful man I came to love more than everything I ever held dear. You're most precious to me Astarion, and I never want to spend a day without knowing you by my side.”

It’s not often that Astarion finds himself speechless, and yet your genuine affection robs him of the ability to respond. He has to hold back tears that dwell behind his fluttering lashes.

Deprived of his ability to speak he can only press a kiss to your forehead, followed by another peck to the tip of your nose, before his lips crash into yours – hastily, in need of you.

Astarion can sense your pulse quickening as his tongue enters your mouth, a soft moan escaping your lips while your hand runs through his hair.

He gently bites your lower lip, the initial rush of his kiss replaced by a sudden tenderness, a flutter spreading right where his dead heart once beat.

Astarion has never felt like this with anyone but you. Perhaps you've turned him into a love-struck maiden after all, he thinks with a smile as he kisses you once more, gentle and soft, before your lips part and he glances at your endearing eyes, finding his voice again.

“I love you too, you cheeky little thing. Even if you have the guts to describe me like a grandmother first, and then almost make me weep from your loving words,” he chuckles while grasping the fabric of your nightgown to pull you closer against his body.

Astarion is used to conceal his emotions behind his jesting shell, and yet when he’s with you, his façade naturally crumbles.

“Guilty as charged,” you reply fondly.

“But honestly… Thank you,” Astarion speaks softly. “For seeing me, like no one else does.” His words come out raw, honest. “You know I don't pray to any of the gods, but if I did, I'm sure I would've caught myself thanking them for bringing you into my life. You're a vision, and through the time I spend with you, it almost feels like my dead heart starts beating again.”

“You’d better stop with that loving talk yourself, before we'll both start to weep,” you laugh as you reach for the corner of your eye, a single wet streak glistening on your skin.

Astarion moves up to kiss it away. “As much as I like to revel in our mutual affection, I don't wish to see more of your tears.”

“Well, perhaps we should call it a night then. I’m certain I’ll find some rest soon,” you whisper as you shift closer in the crook of his arm.

“You truly should, as I'm positive there’ll be more shenanigans awaiting us tomorrow,” Astarion replies and places a kiss on your hair. “Sleep well, my love.”

“You too, Astarion,” you hum, sounding slightly weary again. Maybe sleep has decided in your favour after all, he thinks as he notices your breath becoming more even.

When you finally doze off in the safety of his embrace, Astarion's chest is filled with warmth over the love he holds for you.

Masterlist

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hana-no-seiiki · 3 months

Text

Good news. Did some decent progress on What’s Up Danger so you guys will finally get fed this Wednesday! Bad news, the quality might not be the best since I’m fasting while writing it oTL

Anyways, here are some Batfam w/ Cat Villain! Reader moments/snippets.

TW YANDERE AND MENTION OF NONCON/SOMNO

Both Jason and Reader’s first words to each other were, “What the fuck.”

Reader referring to Jason being a giant, and violent asf esp in comparison to Dick. While Jason was confused at his heart beating so fast and mildly crushing on you while you were fighting.

Bonus points: You guys did the spiderman point meme.

You have the biggest age gap with Dick. I headcannon the boys to be close in age so there wouldn’t be any not so good implications when it comes to relationships, but it’s almost unavoidable unless Batman switches sidekicks every year or so. (You are younger than Jason but older than Tim)

But that is also another reason why you two didn’t click as well as you did with Jason

You’d often make jokes or use slang and Dick would just be “???” He tried his best though.

On the reverse side of things, and like I mention before Tim and you got along too well as friends. He’s one of the few people you could gush to about literally any fandom and he somehow (through stalking your searches and literally every gadget/appliance you owned) knew everything about it already.

You two have written several theses on fellow vigilantes and villains (mostly ‘dumb’ ones like who has the best cake based on so and so criteria)

Damian is the best when it comes to bantering with you mid-fight. It’s the combined years of sass and assassin training. Went from plain insults to whole ass (not so) subtly being horny when you beat each other down.

He’s also the worst (best?) when it comes to your nicknames. He insists that you two use it on each other. Some exclusive while others he’s usually fine hearing from other mouths.

There was one point in time where you were called Kitten while the boys forced/bribed you to call them Daddy

Tim and Jason have tattoos of you/related to you.

For Jason it’s your name with a few paw prints, and for Tim it’s when he first fought you (and got his ass whooped)

After Jason came back and revealed himself to you, he tattooed the scratch marks you left him on his back after doing the deed.

Damian secretly practices doing henna so he can draw on you during your “wedding” since he doesn’t want anyone touching you. Sort of defeats the purpose, but go off king.

Being the thorough guy he is, he uses lab equipment to make his own blends.

Bruce? Bruce hates your ass. Sometimes it’s in a hatefuckey way but most of the time he blames you for corrupting his kids.

So he corrupted you in turn.

I feel like he gets off to cucking them honestly (blame that one comic) but if Reader is AFAB I wouldn’t be surprised if he impregnated them.

He’s a softie at heart when it comes to you though, courtesy of your similarities with Selina.

Speaking of, Talia adores you.

Like if there was anyone she would want with her son it was you.

She thinks the fact that you haven’t been put behind bars is a testament to your skill, and after getting over your similarity to her “rival in love” she would actively get you to be with her son.

Eventually she realizes she loves you more than Bruce and well, that’s a story for another fic.

You have at least a dozen trackers on you at all times.

Most of them you’ve ingested and pooped out.

It’s mostly Tim of course. But the duty of actually feeding you that stuff usually goes to Dick.

Dick has uh- somnophillia’ed you a fair bit after the break up.

He really, and I mean really likes to watch you sleep.

It reminds him of those ‘catnaps’ you’d take while watching over the Titans.

There would be times where he’d just be in a daze/in autopilot for hours reminiscing about your past together

His favorite memories to go back to were your first fight together, first kiss, and times under the sheets, and a date you guys had before in a festival/circus.

He never takes the antidote for Poison Ivy’s sex pollen and always comes to you for it, regardless of his or your relationship status.

Tim has at least a million typewritten chats with AI you, and around a few hundred hours of voice chats.

You did eventually take his virginity.

He came as soon as he was inside you/you were inside him.

You have been offered to be a part of the bat crew or a vigilante. But,

you massacred many after Jason’s supposed death and feel too guilty to call yourself anything other than a villain.

Chokers with bells. It’s a popular gift to give you. Especially ones that are custom made with expensive ass materials and engraving.

Sometimes Tim just gives you weapons.

Alfred is your best source of blackmail material.

You’ve actively tried cursing him (with immortality). You love the man.

He’s secretly the president of your official fanclub/fansite but you didn’t hear that from me.

You fight a lot with Damian’s pets. Like in a way that you turn into a literal cat and hiss at them.

And last but not least, you’re vv close with every member of the Teen Titans (besties with Rachel and Garfield)

NOT PROOFREAD!!!

@sophiethewitch1

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beenbaanbuun · 3 months

Text

cold w/ san

words - short-ish

genre - fluff

warnings - san gets a little gaslight-y but he’s joking, i promise

——————————————————————————

“san, i’m cold,” you pout at your boyfriend. he’s been hogging the blankets all night, leaving you to shiver on your side of the coach. of course, you know what his plan is since he does it every single time it’s cold outside, but that doesn’t mean you’re not going to make him work for it, “just one blanket! you have so many…”

he shakes his head, tightening his grip on the fuzzy material as if you’re going to physically rip it from his grasp. you’re not. you’ve tried that a few times before and not even the element of surprise could help you overpower the sheer strength that man has. who’d have thought the man in the fuzziest hoodie known to man and the most adorable sulky pout on his face would actually be the human equivalent of the hulk?

“no chance,” he growls through his puckered lips, and you have to stifle a giggle at how adorable he is. the temptation to just give in is growing stronger by the second, but you have to stay strong, “you’d be so much warmer if you just came and cuddled with me!”

“i would, wouldn’t i,” you agree, “i’d also be warmer if you gave up your blankets!”

“not happening, princess,” you watch as he balls the blankets up in his lap, just as an extra precaution. you roll your eyes at his paranoia; even if you could somehow get hold of one, the blanket would definitely rip before you could tear it away from his gorilla grasp. you know that from experience too, “either you come over here and cuddle me, or you stay cold! you know the rules.”

there were no rules. san just likes to say there are so his illegitimate methods of getting you to cuddle could be excused by him. this is precisely why you make him work for it; if he’s going to cheat the system, he’s going to have to pay for it.

“and since when has there been a rule that states that if i don’t want hypothermia, i have to cuddle with you?”

“since forever,” he claims.

“do i not cuddle you enough on literally every other day?” he pauses at that, scowling at you. you’re trying to cheat his very legitimate system by using your favourite method - guilt tripping. san doesn’t appreciate that.

“sue me for wanting to be attached to your hip 24/7,” he rolls his eyes dramatically, “maybe i just feel stronger about this whole relationship than you do, i don’t know…”

you gasp, letting your jaw drop to the floor. the smirk on his face tells you that he knows he’s won.

“choi san, you did not just say that!” you shuffle closer - dangerously close, actually - so you can slap his shoulder as punishment for saying such a mean thing. you do it quickly, so he doesn’t have time to drop the blankets and snatch you up into his manipulative little grasp, “i know i taught you what gaslighting means, but that doesn’t mean you can start doing it to me, you bitch!”

he just shrugs, a proud smirk on his face.

“all is fair in love and war, baby!” you give him an unamused laugh, “and i love you to pieces, but i need to win this war. i did mean it when i said i want to be attached to your hip 24/7.”

you pause for a second, contemplating your options. san smirks, knowing he has you dead to right. all it’s going to take is just one more push and you’d be right where he wants you - in his arms being smothered in all the love he keeps in his body.

“just come cuddle,” he coos, “you already know you’ve lost.”

and you do know that, but the smug look on his face makes you want to hold back for just a little longer. you can’t feel your toes anymore though, and you know that if you go and cuddle san he’ll definitely hold them and warm them up with his stupid radiator hands. your fingers lack feeling too, and the thought of tucking them inside his fluffy jumper and holding them against his smooth stomach is just too tempting.

perhaps you’re ready to wave the white flag of defeat.

“fine,” you spit, throwing your hands up in the air in exasperation. the blankets are immediately shoved to the floor by san as he frees up space on his lap. begrudgingly you replace them, folding your arms to sulk as he wraps his own around your waist. you lean into his body, because despite your (mock) anger, you can’t deny yourself warmth in the form of your human hot water bottle for much longer, “but i’m still mad about that comment you made.”

he uses a hand to push your head under his chin.

“hush, brat,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your hairline, “besides, it’s kind of your own fault for making me work so hard.”

“stop trying to gaslight me!”

#ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez oneshot #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #ateez fic #san fic #san fluff #san fanfic #san oneshot

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redflagshipwriter · 4 months

Text

Check Yes (to go on a date with a dead guy) ch3

“So, what’s your deal?” Jason asked, when Danny’s mouth was full of food. “You’re dead, I notice.”

Danny choked. He gave Jason a betrayed look with big blue eyes, a hand clapped over his mouth to contain any mess.

Jason smirked back, unrepentant. “I died once,” he shared. “Got better though.”

“You got be-”

“You were surprised about what it’s like to fight humans,” Jason continued. It was hard not to laugh at the confused outrage on his date’s face. “So that implies you fight someone else? You’re fighting ghosts or something? Or do ghosts have some kinda natural enemy? Vampires or some shit?” He might have been a bit flippant but sue him, it sounded a lot more magical than his daily life.

Danny opened his mouth and no words came out. He looked like he was in pain when he grudgingly admitted, “I do have a lot of beef with this one vampire guy, Vlad.”

Jason threw his head back and laughed. That was such a vampire guy name, what the hell?

“No, no, it’s not funny,” Danny protested. He waved his hands wildly, flinging a bit of bean from his burrito across the roof they were perched on. “He’s also a ghost- well, he’s a half of a ghost, but that’s a long story from when he was in college.”

“The half-ghost vampire has an undergraduate degree?” Jason interrupted. He needed to know what this fucker studied. Was it like, social science? Literature? Theater? That might explain Danny’s implied belief that a theme was an inherent rogue thing. No, wait, business administration?

Danny gave him a withering look. “He’s got a Doctorate.”

Jason flung his hands up in defeat against the world. That made more sense than an undergraduate degree somehow. There was just something about the type of person who got a Doctorate that made them, you know, creeps.

‘Or maybe they’ve just got enough specialized knowledge to act on latent creepiness,’ he mused. ‘...Shit, am I developing an anti education stance? Can I blame this on Crane and Quinn?’

Danny was continuing with his explanation of the vampire’s background. Every word made it nuttier. “He’s a scientist, actually, and the mayor of a small town. And he lives in a cheese mansion.”

This was a sharp divergence from vampire stereotypes and he needed to know everything.

“Is the mansion made of cheese?” Jason interrupted. He was leaning in, intent on every word. Why was this vampire the most interesting man in the world?

He got a weird look for that. “No, it just belonged to the Dairy King,” Danny said, like it was everyday knowledge that you could expect a layperson to have.

“Of course, the Dairy King,” Jason said wisely.

"Enough about me though!" Danny flailed a bit. "How did you get my uh, number?"

Ah. Jason took a big bite to delay while he chose his words.

There was no point in trying to hide his vigilante identity from Danny. The guy probably didn't even understand the concept.

So he might as well top whatever story Danny had.

"The bat guy who taught me all about being a child soldier got grabbed by this group of loser cultists, right?" He gestured in a way that did absolutely nothing to illustrate the situation.

Danny cocked his head. "This is off to a good start."

"They tried to sacrifice him. You gotta remember him - big ugly guy, dressed in black and gray, underwear on the outside of his pants in a way that's never been cool?"

Danny didn't seem to have words, but he lifted his hands to make two ears on top of his head.

He pointed with both hands. "That's the guy," Jason agreed. "At the time, we didn't know what kind of sacrifice it was. We were thinking more along the lines of blood sacrifice?" He shrugged as if the idea of B biting it meant nothing to him.

Danny made a pffft sound of air escaping between his lips. "I tossed him back." He flailed in place. "I- isn't- wasn't that- that was a while ago," he stuttered. "I kinda forgot about him."

"...You got offered a cape, then a few weeks later a bunch of others, and you didn't make a mental connection?" Jason checked.

Danny flushed. "Time doesn't match up between the realms and anyway, I'm really busy!" He crossed his arms and accidentally knocked over his drink. "I've got a lot going on in my life. Anyway, for a ghost?" Danny blew a raspberry. "I'm sorry to break your heart, but none of you dress wild enough to stand out in the Infinite Realms. We've got robot dudes and child pirates and giant eyeballs and stuff." He gave Jason a smug look. It was cute.

Jason acted on impulse and reached out to ruffle Danny's hair. He realized what he was doing too late. His hand froze above Danny's head.

Danny tilted his face up and made an inquisitive sound.

"There was a bug." Jason pulled his hand back. What was wrong with him? He didn't go touching other people just because they were cute. "It flew off."

"...Right," Danny said. "You're being very normal." He seemed delighted by this, the little gremlin. "So. You were a child soldier too?"

Jason nearly fell off his perch.

Danny shrieked a laugh and pointed. "Ha!" He crowed. "I win! I shocked you first!"

"There wasn't a competition!" Jason lied. His face was bright red. It was too late to save face. "What do you mean too?" He demanded. "Were you a child?"

"Somewhat recently," Danny said. He gave Jason a catlike smile. "Adults come from teenagers, teenagers come from kids, kids come from babies. Do you need to know-"

"I know where babies come from." Jason cut him off. He tried to look off put at the way Danny laughed at him but fuck it, it was funny, in a dumb way. "Of course you were a kid, that was silly of me," he admitted. "Ghosts are made from humans, right?"

"Well yes, but actually no," Danny said, philosophical. "Some of us. I was. Other ghosts are made from like, vultures, or ideas."

It kinda seemed like ghost taxonomy was more complicated than he was ready to get into at the moment. Those two things were pretty fuckin disparate.

Jason sighed heavily and picked up his food again, just to have something to do with his hands.

A thought occurred. He didn't let it show on his face but he felt sick to his stomach.

Danny was dead. Danny said he'd been a child recently, and a child soldier.

Someone needed their ass kicked.

Danny: we are having such a whimsical time!

Jason: sirens screaming

#dp x dc #red check yes #dead on main

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popponn · 4 months

Text

“Do you…” Xiao starts, sighing, “…do you really have to call my name for this?”

The two of you sit on one of the branches of the humongous tree where Wangshu Inn has laid its foundation. Xiao makes sure to have one of his hands to guard you from falling. Meanwhile, in a more relaxed manner, your hands remain tangled tidily amongst his tresses, braiding the front part of his hair whilst you sit beside him.

You watch Xiao’s face and gestures for a moment. Upon noticing him still leaning towards you with a slight redness staying on his ears, you beam, “Of course! You are not busy at the moment with your duty, are you, Lord Adeptus?”

Xiao looks like he wants to lie to you for a moment. However, it seems to be impossible—you note with triumphant fondness as that expression switches into one that is mixed with embarrassment and defeat. As childish as it is, you too like that part of him that undoubtedly spoils you a bit too much. It makes you want to spoil him even more.

“I am not,” Xiao admits. Then quickly adding, “Also, you... don’t call me that.”

You hum back, “It’s your title though?”

A few strands of his hair follow the gentle sway of the wind, escaping your fingers for a moment. Easily enough, fortunately, you manage to gather them once again. Through all of this, Xiao still hasn’t met your eyes again.

“It’s odd hearing it from you. Especially, considering we are…” he trails off, the hue of red spreading into his cheeks.

You let him take his time, awaiting the ending of that statement. Yet, as moments pass and he remains silent, you finally supply, “…lovers?”

It is a rhetorical question that rests at the end of your voice and Xiao certainly understands it more than anyone in the whole land of Teyvat. Once again, somehow, his face reddened even more.

But, despite everything, his hand that places itself on the small of your back shifts. Sighing and finally looking at you with a many meaning written in his gaze, Xiao says, “That.”

You let out a small laugh at that. “Then, that means you should do your duty as my lover and let me be lovey-dovey towards you.”

Xiao soon looks like he is chewing on his favorite almond tofu that tastes too sweet and too pleasant. “Will saying ‘no’ to you even do a thing?”

“Want to try?”

“…no. Do as you like.”

notes: blurbed this out quickly because i miss this green guy a lot. the front part of his hair seems very braid-able and he is pretty. then my brain turns off and "xiao pweety". to @doobea thank u for betaing as usual muahhh.

#genshin scenarios #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact #genshin imagines #xiao x reader #xiao fluff #genshin fluff #xiao imagines #xiao x you #drabbles #missing xiao hour + manifesting another downbad xiao moment this lantern rite #writing this destress me in a very “i really miss xiao” way #will recheck again tmr

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lady-ashfade · 4 months

Text

I won’t be my family

Book!Percy Jackson x castellan!reader

-£ after the final I needed to make something like this and I don’t apologize. Based on the events in the first book.

-£ also you wanna picture luke as your own? go ahead! I don’t mention what the reader looks like specifically, just that they look like luke.

-£ words: 800

-£ warnings: sight angst, angst to comfort? crying, everything that happens after the betrayal, also me imagining a male reader but it’s up to you!

percy knew the guilt you felt without ever speaking to you after that night, after he woke up still alive. you failed to meet his eyes when he came close and you’d leave the area he entered. he couldn’t blame you after all it was your older brother who tried to kill him. who set him up to fail from the beginning and not just the same father, mother too.

he needed to speak with you before he left camp and he wouldn’t leave without it. something inside made him sick wondering how you would be feeling at the moment. I mean sure, percy was betrayed by someone he looked up to and almost died so he had a right to be angry. but you were betrayed by family and blood, your own brother had left you at camp to face his conscience alone. it was cruel.

he couldn’t imagine what was running through your head.

you were sitting by the lake as the sun shimmered on your skin that reflected off the water, you looked relaxed. your chest feel slowly and your eyes closed that it almost looked like you were sleeping, if it wasn’t for your foot moving from side to side. in this moment he realized just how much you looked like him. for second he felt threatened at the thought of Luke but he remembered you weren’t him. you weren’t like him even before.

“come to get your revenge?” Your head fell back but never opened your eyes to look at the boy. he was the only one you’d know of to come and find you now.

why couldn’t he just leave you alone? you hated having to face him knowing in someway you hurt him. yes, you didn’t help luke, you didn’t agree with him but it still felt like you were a accomplice somehow in his plan. every person you called friend now looked at you like a monster waiting to backstab them. you’d always be in his shadow.

“on who? I mean, there’s a squirrel in the tree but he’s not the one i’m looking for.” his humor made you force a low huff and lean yourself back up. sighing in defeat you start to play with the rocks around you, clothes stained with water and dirt.

“no offense percy, but I’m already aware of my brothers actions. if you’ve come to tell me about how I’m supporting to acted now then you’re too late, everyone has already beat you to it.”

percy didn’t know how you visited him in the infirmary the first night. you cried about everything as you feed him ambrosia, or placed at cold towel on his burning skin and tried to smooth the nightmares he had. you had lost your brother, but you were with percy to keep him safe.

“honestly you’re taking it better then i would,” his footsteps made sounds as he walked across the stones. “I can’t imagine what it feels like.”

bringing your legs up you take one of them in your arms and hunch over, your lip pursing with sorrow. you could see his warm smile, how he laughed and ruffled your hair, how he told you he’d stay by your side forever. was everything a lie to him?

“and I hope you never will.” you confessed with tears starting to fill the corner of your eyes once more.

he sighed from beside you, his sneakers right beside you. he leaned down and sat on the ground next to you. he truly didn’t know what he was supposed to say to make you feel better and that he didn’t blame you. so he just looked ahead and stared at the water in silence while you sniffled next to him, still never looking his way. from the moment percy met you he could tell you were different from anyone else in Hermes cabin. though, you still had that smirk when you would do something against the rules.

breaking the silence you begin to speak, “I’m not like him.” your voice cracks and for the first time you turn your head towards him. he could see the puffed skin around your eyes and how your lip quivered, “i would never hurt anyone.”

his ears picked up on your tone and body language, you were trying to convince him? of course he knew you’d never think of it. he titled his head as his eyes softened.

“i know that. and I don’t blame you for your brother’s actions, if there is one thing I’ve learned. it is that family is messy.” looking at the gods relationship with each other with all the backstabbing and plots against each other, let alone to their children as well.

“i won’t be my family, not my brother, not my dad or my mother.” your face scrunched up. you looked pained, your voice growing colder and forced.

he offered a kind smile, “you’ll be better.”

-£ Taglist: @itzmeme @ravenmedows @maria699669

#Percy Jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #book percy #book percy jackson #book Percy Jackson x reader #luke castellan angst #angst #angst to comfort #luke castellan x you #Percy Jackson x castellan reader #percy jackson x male reader #percy jackson x fem!reader #percy jackson x gn reader

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reiderwriter · 4 months

Note

This request is inspired by the season 1 finale when Elle and Morgan are on that tropical vacation:) could you do something where the team is somewhere like that for a case and after it’s closed they decide to stay another night and go to a club and the reader gets Spencer to dance with her and at first he’s really awkward but then they really get into it (can end however you want:))

A/N: I took this idea and RAN. When I tell you I was sitting furiously the entire way through this, I mean it 😭 thank you so much for requesting! 🥰

Warnings: smut, 18+ minors dni, semi-public sex, Munch!Spencer, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, cum play, alcohol consumption, slight masturbation (m).

The sun was bright and hot in Jamaica. You'd landed a week ago for a case which had now wrapped and were enjoying the cool breeze from the sea and the hospitality of Derek Morgan’s hotel-resort-owning friend.

Travelling internationally was always a little bit tougher than working on the domestic cases, but the international team was spread thin, and somehow, no case had landed on your desk until this one did. Graciously, the FBI had let you have another 24 hours before your return.

You'd spent the day stretching out in the sun, an incredibly large beach umbrella set up beside you housing Spencer Reid who had let you know early into the trip that he burned easily.

“All I'm saying is, I've read enough papers on skin cancer to know the sun is a deadly laser.”

“A twenty minute game of beach volleyball isn't going to kill you, kid. Come on, these ladies are waiting, and I will leave your ass here.”

“Stop bothering him, Derek,” you defended Spencer, partly because Derek was casting a shadow across you and cutting off your sun, and partly because you didn't want to acknowledge the pit of jealousy bubbling up in your body when the women threw themselves at Spencer. “Besides, do you really want Spencer on your team for a physical sport?”

“Y/N has a point, listen to Y/N,” Spencer whined, nodding profusely at your words.

Derek held his hands up in defeat and walked away, wondering how long it would take the two of you to sort whatever attachment issues you had out.

When the sun had eventually retreated, and you'd pulled the beach dress you'd bought earlier that day back on, Spencer was still at your side.

“You know, I think you caught some sun, Spencer,” you giggled, running a hand across his now permanently rosy cheeks and feeling their warmth. “Your cheeks are so red. It's like a grandma just pinched them and held on.”

“I told you I could look at the sun and burn, and we've been out here all day,” he grumbled, pouting slightly.

You beamed up at him, though. You hadn't forced Spencer out. In fact, you'd been fully prepared for him to stay inside all day reading. But when he asked you your plans at breakfast, he'd asked to join you, and you hadn't protested in the slightest.

Walking slowly back to the main part of your resort, you softly hummed the music that travelled from the outdoor beach bar. The music had been constant throughout the day, and you swayed your hips in time to the music as you walked.

“Y/N…” Spencer started, a few paces behind you. You turned to look at him. His usual wardrobe wasn't exactly the most beach friendly attire, so you'd hunted down a pair of board shorts and a short sleeve button down when you'd bought your dress that morning. You thought they'd hang awkwardly off him, but he filled them out surprisingly well. As he spoke, though, you found yourself unconsciously moving forward to straighten a wrinkle in his shirt.

“I think Rossi, Hotch, and Prentiss mentioned they were going to get drinks in the bar this evening. Do you want to go, too?”

Your hand stilled on his chest, and you looked up at him. It was golden hour, and the sun had halo'd him perfectly in its dying rays, showing off its beauty one last time.

You had to recapture the breath you'd hiccuped out when he'd held your gaze, willing your heartbeat to stay somewhat normal.

“Oh, great! That sounds like fun, I was just thinking about how I wanted to dance.”

“I know,” he whispered softly as you turned away cheerfully. You almost didn't hear it, and though you desperately wanted to turn around and ask him why, you continued ahead toward the twinkling lights of the bar.

Three hours later, you were in your cups. You'd worked hard on your case throughout the week, and now it was time for distraction.

Besides, you knew that sun and alcohol weren't always the best pairing, so you'd stayed hydrated on the beach. Now the sun had gracefully set, you were happy to enjoy a glass or two of your liquid joy.

Pulling Spencer Reid onto the dance floor in front of all your coworkers was just another symptom of your piña colada buzz, and he followed you with a small hesitation and a small laugh of protest.

“Y/N, I can't dance.”

“Shhhhhh, you don't have to dance, you just have to sway. Just sway.”

“By my definition, swaying is dancing.”

You rolled your eyes at him but pulled his hands around your waist always. Your coordination faltered, though, and you landed awkwardly high on your body. Without a care in the world for the trail of fire you were igniting down your back, you slid his hands lower, until his hands were sat nearer to your ass than your hips, and you stepped in.

With his arms in position, you threw your own around his neck, and absent mindedly began playing with the curls at the base of his neck.

“Now sway, Spencer.”

His eyes locked with yours, and he obliged. Your chest had pressed up against his after all, your bodies practically flush, and now that you were moving in time to the music, it was inevitable that he should, too.

Time travelled quickly as you stood in the glow of each other, laughing and joking about each clumsy step, each bump from other dancers. Your coworkers had each come up to wave a quick goodbye through the night, but you were still there. Still swaying.

You were sure that his hands had travelled the length of your body, the heat that burned you from inside out having filled your body a millenia ago.

He'd spun you out a couple times, and you'd giggled in delight at the motion, letting your dress raise and spin in the breeze, and returning to a closer position than before, more intimate somehow each time.

The two of you were so lost in each other that by the time the DJ was shutting his system down, you hadn't even realised the music had stopped. You were now simply swaying along to the sound of the waves crashing in and out.

“Y/N,” he finally whispered into your ear as the sun again began to show its head. “Y/N, the sun is coming up.”

“I know. I think…. I think I don't want to let you go just yet, though.” You kept moving together in that silence for a few more minutes, but now your eyes were locked.

It wasn't a surprise when his lips touched your own. After all, you'd seen them coming. But the jolt of electricity it sent up your spine stole your breath anyway.

You opened your mouth to take in some air, and he saw that as welcoming. His tongue tangled with yours as his hand lifted to tip your head back, his back already bent slightly to accommodate your height difference.

His guiding hand wasn't enough, though, he was still not close enough.

You subtly lifted your leg and his hand instantly dropped to your thighs, hauling you up into his arms as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

“Our flight is in six hours,” you panted as his lips left yours, suddenly sober again. “We should get some rest.”

He nodded in agreement, but he was already walking back to your rooms. You each had your own, but he hadn't relinquished his hold on you yet, and you knew he wasn't going to.

Good, you thought, because logic be damned but you weren't planning on letting him.

He carried you like that all the way to his door, as you pressed chaste kisses across his face, head, ears, hair, anywhere you could reach on his body. Places you appreciated because they were beautiful and lovely.

You longed to kiss everywhere else, too.

“Y/N, we're here.” He said, meeting your eyes once more. There was an unspoken question there. An invitation to leave if you didn't want this.

Your answer was a hand in his hair and hips pressed back against his. It was all he needed as he blindly pushed into the room.

You thought he'd throw you down on the bed, but he was much too gentle for that.

Instead, he sat himself down, taking care to make sure you were comfortable even as his tongue twisted and writhed against your own.

With this new position, you could try to relieve some of the tension that had been burning in your body since you'd first pulled his hands to you. Your hips moved in slow circles, pressing down into the now obvious bulge in his pants, picking up speed with each caress of his hand.

He'd pushed under the hem of your dress, his hands on your bare thighs gripping you tightly as you used his body to get off.

You both moaned and whined through each wet kiss, the gentleness of your earlier encounters chaste in comparison with the animalistic need pulsing through yourself.

You nearly growled when he lifted your hips again, but you let him continue his motions as he lay back, guiding your hips higher and higher until you straddled his face.

“Shit, Spencer-” You lost the words as his fingers pulled the two ties holding your bikini bottoms in place, effectively discarding them and leaving you bare. You gasped as you held yourself above him, but he was strong and insistent.

Wrapping one hand around each of your splayed thighs, he pulled your core to his mouth and began to pleasure you. Your hands jolted to the headboard so you could steady yourself.

Your dress still remained, spread across the bed and obscuring his face from view as he flicked his tongue against your clit, like a flower decorating the Emerald green sheets of the bed.

“Spencer, fuck,” his hold on your thighs loosened now that he knee you weren't going anywhere, one hand sliding down to his own neglected cock.

The looser grip meant you could move, just slightly, and so you began to ride his face.

You moved your hips back and forth as he flattened out his tongue, and you heard the music that had carried you into the night start up again.

Your moans were melodic, a tribute to your lust for him, an offering made to show him how truly desired he was.

You came with a shudder, the full weight of your body falling down onto his tongue, but he didn't stop.

His tongue started moving again now your hips had twitched to a stop, prolonging your orgasm by an eternity.

You finally rose up on your knees when you felt a second orgasm begin to build, craving something different this time.

He didn't come out from under your dress so much as rip the thing off of both of you.

You'd already rid yourself of your bikini top earlier in the dar, so you sat bare above him as he pulled you again into his lap, his cock now free from his pants.

Your lips came together again as you hovered over him, his length running through your folds, readying himself for the sweet moment he'd finally be inside you.

“You taste sweet,” he said before you sucked on his tongue, desperate to taste your joint lust.

The music played once again as he pulled your hips lower down and sheathed himself inside you, but louder, a crescendo of perfectly resonant notes sounding one after the other.

You were too lost in it to be any help to him, and he kissed away your fatigue as he lowered you to the bed, gently placing your head on the pillow and smoothing the hair out of your face before pulling out until only the tip of his cock was inside you and again pushing in.

His rhythm was steady, pulsing through your entire body. You felt the pleasure of his body inside you everywhere as his lips returned to your ear.

You thought he would talk and say something again, but his teeth found you instead, his to gue licking the spot where your neck met your lobe before he gently nipped the side of your ear.

He couldn't talk, but he didn't hold back any moans.

Your whimpers, his groans, the steady rhythm of your hips meeting and pulling apart, the sound of your arousal slick between your legs, all joined together in a symphony of love as your hearts sang to one another.

“Y/N,” he finally moaned, and hearing your name on his lips like a prayer was enough to send you over the edge.

“Spencer! I'm cumming again, Spencer. Please don't stop-” You begged even as your body tensed up beneath him.

He continued that rhythm, not letting your music end until it was absolutely necessary.

But as the sun shone through the curtains again, you knew you were reaching the end of this song.

“Where should-” he couldn't form the full question, elbows holding his weight off of you as he held back the full force of his orgasm.

“P-Pull out,’ you whispered, and he did.

It took him only a few strokes to find completion on your stomach. He sat back on his knees, mindful not to press his weight back down upon you. You wrapped your legs around his waist and grabbed at him anyway, needing to feel his lips on yours one more time.

You wondered if your entire life would now be the moments in between his kisses.

“Y/N, our flight is in 5 hours.”

“We can sleep on the jet. We can't do this on the jet,” you said pulling his head back down for a kiss as you heard the music start up once again.

#and where the fuck has this gif been hiding #dear lord im obsessed with him #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x y/n

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roosterr · 9 months

Text

white flag ✹ epilogue

note: im kinda sad to say, but this will be the final part of this series! im so so grateful for all the love and support for it, this was honestly so fun to write! i hope everyone enjoys and have a wonderful day/night!!!!<3<3<3

pairing: ghost x gn!reader

wc: 1.7k

no use of y/n

reader's callsign is 'stingray'

summary: your night in date with simon :)

warnings: domesticity, so much fluff, soap and gaz are wingmen again, tiny bit of light angst

ao3

【prev】

of all the things in this world that could be considered intimidating, flowers were the last thing simon would put on that list; but the brightly coloured flora seemed to have a paralysing effect on him as he stands in the tiny flower shop.

with a quiet, defeated groan to himself, he dials johnny's number and presses his phone to his ear.

"what flowers am i supposed to buy?" he blurts no sooner than soap picks up, not even bothering to greet him in his haste.

"hello to you too?" johnny mumbles, his confusion evident. a moment passes before he registers what simon asked, "oh! wait," he laughs, his voice getting further away as he lowers his phone to call out, "gaz, get out here! lt.'s buyin' sting flowers!"

simon considers hanging up then and there, but he's severely out of his depth and unfortunately, soap and gaz are his only hope.

"oh i see, he needs an expert opinion, does he?" kyle's teasing gets louder as he approaches soap, and he can hear the smile in both the sergeants' voices.

really, simon should've known they wouldn't let him off easy.

"christ alive…" he keeps his voice as low as possible, pinching the bridge of his nose in the corner of the small shop. "just help me, you pillock." the cashier has been staring at him since he walked in, and honestly, he doesn't blame them; a giant man in a mask isn't exactly the regular clientele for a florist.

"uh, probably their favourite?" soap suggests, the sound of gaz's muffled chuckling just about audible in the background.

"they don't have 'em." simon replies, his eyes darting over the vibrant display one last time in the hopes that the answer would somehow appear.

"nah, you want roses, mate." gaz interjects, and he hears soap make an agreeing noise.

simon hums. "aren't they too… cliché?" he asks, stepping over to the large display of rose bouquets. it's the classic choice, he's aware of that much, but whether or not you'd prefer something more unique was weighing on his mind. this was something he never expected to have to worry about.

"no! they're romantic," gaz insists, his amusement still very evident in his voice, "trust me mate, sting'll love them."

simon contemplates his point for a moment, staring at the deep red petals and trying to imagine the look on your face if he gave them to you. you'd been happy with a handful of squashed flowers he'd stolen from the flowerbeds on base, so he doubted you'd turn your nose up at them. it doesn't take him long to make a decision.

"alright, cheers." he mutters, grabbing a lively looking bouquet of a dozen from the display and making his way over to the cashier – who was quickly trying to pretend they hadn't been staring.

"you'll need to give us a debrief–" soap begins, but he's cut off by simon hanging up and shoving his phone back in his pocket. he gets the feeling he won't be hearing the end of this for quite some time.

✹✹✹

it's only when he's standing outside the door to your room that the nerves finally start to set in. he can't help but feel like an idiot, fidgeting on the spot about to knock on your door like a lovestruck teenager, almost crushing the stems of the roses with his iron grip.

he knocks twice, before he has the chance to change his mind and back out. not even a second later, you're pulling the door open and regarding him with that warm look that has his palms sweating.

you're wearing casual clothes, and so is he, as per the agreement you made to keep this 'date' simple. it doesn't matter what you're wearing though; he's seen you covered head to toe in blood, sweat, mud, and whatever else, and you still manage to be utterly breathtaking in every way.

with a nervous cough, simon holds out the rose bouquet to you, hoping you don't notice the way his hands are shaking.

"wha…" you blink in surprise at the flowers, taking them from him and admiring them with a tiny smile. "you bought these, right? didn't just rip 'em out of someone's garden?" you raise a teasing eyebrow at him, your smile turning more playful.

"yes, i bought them." he grumbles lightheartedly, a smile of his own forming under his balaclava. the way you effortlessly diffuse the tension has his anxieties melting away.

"thank you." you breathe, softly caressing the vermillion petals. "they're lovely, i love them."

simon let's out a quiet sigh of relief at your affirmation. "good; cost me a tenner, they did."

the laugh you let out is like music to his ears. "well, i'm sorry to bankrupt you." you grin, turning back into your room and carefully putting the bouquet in the vase on the mantle. after making sure the arrangement looks nice, you come to stand in front of him again.

simon's not sure how to continue, the nerves from earlier resurfacing as the conversation fades. the way you're watching him expectantly, he feels the urge to take you by the hand – and as if you read his his mind, you hold it out for him. he places his hand in yours, squeezing gently and leading you the short distance to the kitchen.

he'd set the table earlier, having found an only slightly discoloured tablecloth buried in the back of the cupboards. it's a little sad, but it was the best he could come up with.

"wow," you tease, the same playful smile as before on your lips as you meet his eyes, "so fancy."

he snorts, ushering you over to your chair and pulling out for you. "only the best for your majesty." he preens at your happiness when you laugh again, glad for the mask covering what he's sure is an obvious blush.

he occupies himself by grabbing the two plates he'd finished preparing a minute ago, just before he'd met you at your door.

"i made spag bol." simon mutters as he sets them down on the table. he keeps an eye on your expression as he takes his seat opposite you, anticipation of whatever response you may have.

"fine by me," you say, an easy smile lifting your features. "it's almost the perfect candlelit dinner, all we're missing is the candle."

simon blinks. "you don't like candles." he replies, a hint of confusion in his gaze when he meets your eye.

"no," you smile fondly, looking down at your plate. "i don't."

a comfortable silence falls over the room as you both start to eat. the warmth and normality of it all makes simon’s heart swell with affection. he's happy, content, being here with you, even doing something as monotonous as eating dinner. you make it worth enjoying.

"how is it?" he asks once you've both finished, once again waiting apprehensively for your reaction.

"it's great," you give him a lopsided smile, resting your chin on your hand as you look at him. "thanks for cooking."

simon quirks an eyebrow at you. "you don't have to lie." he mutters, feeling the tips of his ears burn under your intense gaze.

"okay, well, don't quit your day job." you chuckle, standing up and making your way over to the sink with your plate in your hands.

he huffs a small laugh, and joins you at the sink with his own plate. "you're crushin' my dreams here."

"sorry, chef." you grin and gesture to the washing up in the sink. "you wash, i'll dry?"

"if your majesty insists."

you turn on the radio for some quiet background noise, and the two of you start cleaning up in tandem. it's nice, how you can work together so seamlessly with no need for words. he's struck again by the thought that if he were alone this would be a chore, but with you beside him, he finds such a tedious job surprisingly pleasant.

simon hands the last dish to you, and as you take it your fingers brush against his hand. the way he flinches away from your touch is unconscious, and when he looks over to you he expects you to pity him, or be offended by his action – but your face holds neither of those things.

you're just drying the dish he handed you, the same content expression on your face that had been there all night, as if you didn't even notice.

"sorry." he mumbles, his gaze falling from your face to your hands as you work.

simon loves you. he shouldn't be afraid of your touch. he wants to touch you, and for you to touch him. he doesn't know why he reacted like that.

"don't be." you utter, soft and compassionate, and his heart feels like it's about to burst out of his chest. for the third time that night, he's hit full force with how wonderful you are.

there's no judgement, no probing questions, nothing. you understood him, even though you had no idea why he acts this way.

you turn away, your back to him as you store the dishes in the cabinets. you hadn't been looking at him before, but now he was sure you couldn't see him, he feels his throat constrict with the overwhelming urge to burst into tears.

simon takes your free hand and you pause, still facing away as you wait for his next move.

he takes a small step closer, minimising the space between you, and rests his forehead against the back of your head. with his eyes screwed shut, he takes a deep breath and inhales the familiar scent of you. his grip on your hand tightens slightly.

you lean back into him, a quiet sigh escaping you as you squeeze his hand in return. neither of you say a word, but you don't have to. he feels how you love him in the way you never expect more from him than he can give.

it's the most peace he's felt in years.

taglist p1: @sofasoap , @siilvan , @mockerycrow , @i-love-ghost , @projectdreamwalker , @achelois-is-here , @adamsloverboy , @thatchickwiththecamera , @chickensandwich69 , @batmanunicorns523 , @tiny-kasper , @dezibou , @pampeop , @cumbermovels , @goth-boi-atlas , @berryjuicyy , @guiltgoreglory , @postmodernrevolutionist , @untoldshortsofthefandoms , @delilah-grimes , @sunflowerqueen1416 , @luvssemma , @sunshiinegaz , @imonmykneessir , @kenz-ee , @eistro-phobia , @rzmarona , @alanalanalanalanalanna , @cathnoneofyourbusiness ,

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#ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #mw2 x reader #cod x reader #141 x reader #call of duty x reader #mw2 #cod mw2 #call of duty #simon ghost riley #mw2 ghost #roosterr writes

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