#i like how his jacket thing keeps getting longer
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Secret's Safe
Jax Teller x Ortiz!F!Reader
Juice & Sister!Reader
30 Day Fic Challenge
Word Count: 3k
A/N: I had more thoughts to make this more of a Juice fic but then.... Jax LOL.
Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Mentions of blood, murder, death, assault, secrets, lying, trauma, abuse.
Word Count: 3k
SOA Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics
As you opened your eyes, they squinted quickly as the bright sun hit them immediately. After blinking a few times, they tried to take in your surroundings. You were in the passenger seat of your car, the green signs on the highway were moving extremely quickly past you. It took you a minute to focus to see what was on the signs but soon enough you caught one that said Stockton 75 miles. That meant you weren’t too far off from where you were headed before you ran into the person at the wheel of your truck currently. That thought made you immediately snap your head over to see the blond haired man, hand on the steering wheel, white knuckled, his reaper hat holding back the oiled hair from the sleepless night prior.
“You look like shit.” You spoke up, clearing your throat as you did, placing his jacket that he had draped over you on his backpack.
It was the statement he had said to you when you ran into him at the truck stop last night. It was meant to be humorous but once he got a good look at you, he realized it held way more truth than he expected. The genuine concern is what brought him to load his Harley in the bed of your truck, and continue your drive out to Charming for you.
Staring at the smile growing on his face sent you back to the days you were falling in love with Jax Teller. Back when he had the kutte without the weight of the office patches.
“Didn’t want you to feel left out.” His voice sent a shiver through your body. It had been half a decade since you last saw him. It made you look him over more closely. His hair was longer, Jax always sported the long blonde look but this was a lot more lengthy than before, like something had happened that led him to forget to get it cut. As you looked at his beard, you thought maybe that was more the sign that things hadn’t exactly been smooth sailing for him. Your eyes moved down to his kutte, despite being new to you, the vice president patch on his right was dirty and worn.
“You think we could stop somewhere for me to freshen up, I don’t really want to jump scare my brother.” You started to look through your backpack for your toiletries as you spoke.
“Was planning to go to my place first, I know how you are with him.” His knuckles tightened on the wheel as the sentence left his mouth.
You weren’t sure whether you were annoyed or comforted by his statement. You knew exactly what he meant, and it was unreal to you that despite the insanity of this situation, you could still fight about the same things you fought about then.
“And how am I with him?” It was said in a way that you both knew the answer, but you wanted Jax to humor you, or maybe you just wanted to finally win this fight. You stopped your search for whatever in your bag and looked at him, eyebrows raised waiting for an answer.
“Cautious.” He spoke the word immediately and you felt the argument practically line up in your voice like it was muscle memory.
Keeping your relationship a secret was ultimately what broke you both up. And that’s what made you move back to the east coast where you and your brother grew up.
Jax followed up his statement quickly before you could let out a syllable of your argument. “For the record, I get it now. I think I was still a stupid young kid wanting to flaunt my girlfriend around.”
This was completely new to you.
You looked him over again and despite the distressed look to it, you caught the fresh stitching. The patch was not only new to you but new to him as well.
“I guess being the second in command makes you mature.”
“Makes you see what people can handle, too.” His voice was firm as he spoke, eyes still on the road.
“He wouldn’t have been able to handle it.” You agreed knowing your brother well. He was fun-loving, caring, hilarious, but he had demons. And if anyone else’s found their way to him, you knew it’d break him because he’d try so hard to take them on his own. Not saying Jax and your relationship was bad, it was surprisingly one of the better ones you’d been in, but you knew by having that, you’d be taking away the one thing that kept your brother stable.
“He gonna be able to handle what brought you out here?”
That snapped you out of your thoughts. Your eyes said it all but he didn’t even need to be looking at them to feel your shock and need for explanation.
“I saw the blood in the bed of your truck when I was loading my bike. Thought I’d taught you better than to leave behind evidence.”
“That’s mine.” It was so pointed how you said it.
That made Jax’s brow arch in curiosity. As fucked up as it sounded, it was relieving to you to be talking to someone who wasn’t shocked by the possibility of mysterious blood or being on the lam from a crime. To be talking to someone who almost found curiosity in the thought of the situation.
“I got mixed up with this group of friends out east.” He didn’t need to pry the information out of you, this was never an issue between you, sharing your thoughts with each other, talking through everything, was never the problem. Telling other people was. “Real party kids, you know, we were drinking, doing drugs, having a good time, until we weren’t.” You took a deep breath before getting into the depths of the story.
“We were hanging out on the front porch of someone’s house, it was late, or early, however you wanna describe it, and someone rolled up, I guess someone brought a friend who knew some not so great people.”
Jax had a feeling he knew where the story was going but he wanted to hear it from your account.
“I got stabbed.” This part of the story was so straight to the point compared to the rest. The context here didn’t matter much compared to the lead up.
“Still missing the part where you got blood in your truck.” Jax was only saying this because you stopped talking and he knew there were pieces of the story missing.
This was where it was hard to say what happened, partially because you couldn’t believe how stupid you were to let this happen to begin with, but also since it was traumatic.
“They tossed me in the bed of the truck and left me there to die.”
Jax’s grip got tighter against the wheel and he sucked his lips into his teeth, the anger rising as he thought about it.
“Obviously I didn’t.” You tried to lighten the mood.
“And you decided to come back here.” Jax nodded, fully understanding the story.
“After I killed the person who left me to die. Who just happened to be the one who stabbed me.” Again, the words came out with no lead up, just the point.
Jax’s eyes darted to you when you said it. Funny enough, it was what he expected the situation to be. An ex got abusive, it ended badly, or maybe an accident when you were drunk, but the thought went out once you ended your story.
“Did–” He was beginning to ask how you handled it, you knew that was what he was wondering.
“I handled it. No trace. I was coming back here just because I needed my family, needed a familiar face.”
“Sorry this familiar one looks like shit.” Jax was now trying to lighten the mood.
“It was an unexpected one too. I wasn’t even going to come to the clubhouse, was going to go straight to a motel and then right to Juice’s.”
“No love lost, I see.” He let out a laugh.
“More like too much love lost.” You leaned back in the seat and placed your feet up on the dash.
__________
You pulled back the shower curtain and wrapped the towel around your body, turning to wipe the fog off the mirror and stare at yourself. The shower brought some life back to your face, but the only thing that was going to make you look well rested was rest.
As you opened the bathroom door, you started to talk loud, calling out and asking if you could take a nap but your words got cut off as you slammed right into Jax whose hand was raised to knock on the bathroom door.
“Sorry.” He chuckled and stabilized you by wrapping his hands on your bare arms.
It was at that moment that the both of you realized this was the closest you’ve been in years. You felt Jax’s breath on your face, it smelt like coffee which made you smile inside. Something about the domesticity of him in his home drinking his morning cup of coffee.
“I was coming to see if you wanted french toast or waffles.” There was that domesticity again.
“Jax Teller, who used to burn eggs, is offering me french toast or waffles?” The water was still dripping down your skin as you spoke.
“Alright.” his head twisted to the side as he laughed and then looked back at you, his finger now on your shoulder catching one of the stray drops before retracting his hand and looking back at your eyes. “They’re pre-made in a package from the freezer, was just gonna toast ‘em, not get all fancy.”
“I’ll take both.”
“Both it is.” He was turning around to go back into the kitchen and you felt your breath exhale the moment he turned.
You both never got a chance to eat together, he came back to ask you about coffee or orange juice and ended up in his bed. Breakfastless and clothesless.
As much as it broke you to sneak out, you did it. Sneaking out like this reminded you of what you were trying to leave behind, but now, you had to remind yourself of how safe you felt being here. With Jax. You stepped into the kitchen and saw the toaster housing the burnt french toast accompanied by the burnt waffle in the slot next to it. You laughed and grabbed both, they’d still be better than the junk you were eating on the road. Grabbing a pen you left a note on the table for him.
Thanks for everything. Taking your burnt breakfast and heading to my brother’s. See you around. xx
With that, you were leaving. It was late afternoon now, meal times didn’t really have a time clock when you were traveling with no sense of time. Driving to your brother’s at this point was like muscle memory, you didn’t have to give it any thought and before you knew it you were there.
One thing about Juice was that he’d always welcome you with open arms and no questions. Okay some questions, but none that ever felt forced or pointed.
“Hey! What are you doing here?” He was so chipper and genuinely excited to see you as he opened the door.
“Refugee looking for shelter.” You smiled back and brought him in for a hug.
“Come in.” Juice pushed the door open completely and with his free hands moved to grab your bag out of your hand.
Immediately you felt like a piece of scum in his pristine apartment and you hadn’t even had the grime of the ride on you anymore. “You live here or just showcasing the place?” You teased him.
He sucked his tongue to the roof of his mouth and made a clicking noise. “I like to keep things neat.”
“I know we lived in the same house together for years.” You looked at the art on the walls, the only sign that someone made a home of this place. There were pictures of you both, pictures of Juice with your childhood dog, pictures of the club, SOA flags and Harley memorabilia.
“Hey I have this in my bag.” You smirked and moved to grab your backpack from his hands, he still hadn’t dropped it anywhere likely because he wasn’t sure where it’s place was in his sterile home.
You pulled the photo out from the side pocket, it was wrinkled and folded, the complete opposite of his.
“It’s before I started sponsoring, when I just worked at the shop.” He smiled, grabbing the photo from your hands. “You brought me and the guys homemade turkey sandwiches.”
“You always left your lunch at home.” You shook your head at the memory, “I hated coming by with just food for you.” It was true, you’d make a sandwich for the 4-5 guys that were working that day. It became a sort of bit, the guys were crossing their fingers that whenever Juice was working with them, he’d forgotten his lunch. It helped that you came with a bag of chips and a 6 pack along with the sandwiches. That’s what the picture was. You, Juice, Jax, and Lowell eating turkey sandwiches and washing it down with a beer.
“Everything okay?” Juice’s voice got solemn as he spoke, still looking down at the photo.
“It is now.” You nodded with a smile.
“You need my help with anything?” This time his voice raised an octave, in a more happy way.
“Just a place to crash.”
“Second room’s all yours.” He waved his arms in the direction of the room because he knew you were well aware of where it was.
“I’ll be sure to disinfect my bag before putting it down.” You teased him with a slight push and made your way to the room that used to be yours years ago.
By the time the two of you caught up, you leaving out the big details that you easily shared with Jax, it was nighttime. He brought you to the clubhouse, excited to share your arrival with the guys, and just happy to have his sister back in town.
You were plopped on one of the picnic tables as some of the club sat around you, laughing about some joke Tig just said, most of you laughing at him more than with him. Your beer was nestled in your hand as you sipped slow on it, not really feeling like getting drunk much these days.
“You’re nursing that beer.” Happy’s gruff voice alerted you. It was soft enough that only you heard him.
“Long drive cross country, it’s making me more tired than anything.” You explained, it was partially true.
But Happy saw through it.
“You killed someone.”
If you had been drinking the beer you would have spit it out by the abruptness of his comment.
“Excuse me?” You frowned and looked at him, you probably met this member a handful of times but you didn’t know him like you knew some of the other crew.
“I can tell, you got that vibe.” He nodded his head, his voice extremely raspy.
“That vibe?” You raised your brows.
“Yea, that life ain’t hold the same innocence vibe.” He answered you quickly.
“How would you know what that vibe is?” You were playfully asking now, knowing that it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if anyone here knew what you did, but it wasn’t something you were just blurting out.
He laughed at that and didn’t answer the question. “Don’t worry your secret’s safe with me.”
“You freakin’ out our guest, Happy?” Bobby was walking out from the clubhouse, followed by Juice with a new beer for you despite you still not having this one nearly finished.
“Happy?” You frowned and looked at Juice as you grabbed the beer.
Happy grinned and lifted his shirt up to show his abdomen littered with smiley face tattoos and suddenly with no explanation at all, every question you just asked in the last 5 minutes was answered.
“Oh.” You grabbed your nursed beer and finished it off quickly before moving to the new and cold one.
Before the conversation could continue, the sound of two motorcycles cut the sound of voices out completely. Your eyes moved to see who it was, even though based on who was here now, the options were limited. You caught a glimpse of his long locks when he took the helmet off. Instinctually your eyes jumped to the movement of the person who came in behind him, tall and burly, and despite him still being far back in the shadows, you knew it had to be Jax’s friend Opie. With ease, your eyes moved back to Jax as he brought his hand through his hair. It was oily again, or still, which had you starting to wonder what his day looked like after you left.
“Jax!” Juice called out from behind you and it brought you back to the current moment as Jax approached, taking off his riding gloves with a big smile on his face. “Look who's back on the west coast.” Juice was beyond excited to tell Jax, the thought of bringing back the days when the group of you would hang out clearly driving his enthusiasm.
“Yea, I–” Jax was about to say how he ran into you the night before, you knew it, but your eyes went wide and your head shook just ever so slightly as a hint to let him know you didn’t want Juice to know. Luckily you were behind Juice on the picnic table so he wasn’t able to see it but Jax did clearly.
What wasn’t clear was how he was taking your action. He seemed a little upset, but also he had a slight smirk on his face.
“Yea, I see that. It’s good to see you.” He changed his sentence, his eyes staring at you.
Behind him was Opie who clearly was aware of what happened between the two of you and was trying to hide his smirk from the awkwardness between you and Jax that only you three hopefully could feel.
Jax took a step forward and you moved off the picnic table to stand. His arm raised to bring you in for a hug.
“Thank you.” You whispered and squeezed him a little extra.
“No worries, as always, secret’s safe.”
#SOA#Sons of Anarchy#SOA fanfic#Sons of Anarchy Fanfic#Jax Teller x Reader#Juice Ortiz & Reader#Ortiz Sibling#Ortiz Sister#Jax Teller#Juice Ortiz
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try to guess how much time passed since between recent and middle one in first pic
#you can actually find middle one here lmao#artists on tumblr#my art#digital art#original character#my ocs#art#redraw#did you know his mouth is made like “w” so it can look like python's mouth#can you tell what i enjoyed shading#from right to left: May 5th 2021 - Feb 24th 2023 - March 8th 2024#yes middle and recent one have like a year time between#is this the fabled progress /j#i like how his jacket thing keeps getting longer#its growing#i have no idea how i drew that hand
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One of my fave jackets is this green jacket with a fur hood im wearin rn because 1.) its green 2.) my dad gave it to me 3.) it reminds me of saejima. Who also reminds me of my dad
#snap chats#p sure i talked bout this jacket before but idc read my diary#sorry that every other middle aged man i see i say reminds me of my dad its a compliment#tbh love how i clowned on ichi for being on premium copium bout arakawa but highkey i woulda done the same bout my dad.. i get it ichi..#anyway :) i legally get to talk about my day with him now :)) HE SAID THE FUNNIEST SHIT UPON SEEING ME#HE SAID ‘oh wow we dress similar :)’ and keep in mind. he was wearing a latte brown coat with a black turtleneck and pants and shoes#meanwhile. i approach With Black Pants And Shoes Admittedly but then im in this goofy old ass jacket with a red scarf#and a crane-decorated dress shirt that i got two buttons undone on like DAAD you are senile. hes so funny#so fun my dad actually recognized this was the jacket he got me- it was one of the first things he bought for me after i told My Secret 🙈#also i finally asked how tall he was and i can’t believe my dad matches the criteria to be an rgg character he’s fuckin 6’1 like i thought#AH but today was really nice- i got to hang with my sis and her husband as well as my dad’s wife :)#it was awful tho cause the second my sis saw my dad’s outfit she’s just like ‘it’s so kdramacore’ AND SHES RIIIGHT 😭😭#we later found out dad’s wife loves kpop…. and she bought him his new clothes…. so we are no longer surprised….. AWFUL.#honestly i could write a drama based off my dad’s life i really could it has elements for it. i mean ig i kinda do that already dont i#i borrow. anyways. today was fun :) even if i almost lost my mind trying to take the train the first time#this train system was weird… it wa worth tho it was great seein popop again#yeah….. ugh i have to still drive home from the station. and hope my car is still there#i get very paranoid leaving my car alone so openly i dont like it…#anyways. bye bye :) i might nap til my stop or work on a fic i started#‘snap what happened to’ dont worry about it i need to look at something else or ill scream#ok bye 👋
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captive
Raider! Joel Miller x Female Reader
summary: You find yourself missing your captor while he’s out on an early morning hunt with the rest of the group.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. RAIDER ERA. DARK!JOEL. DUBCON. IMPLIED PREVIOUS NONCON. UNSPECIFIED AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 50). READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION. mentions of Joel’s group murdering reader’s group, it’s implied her family members were also killed, Joel pretty much kidnaps reader and keeps her as his own, stockholm syndrome, reader deals with a lot of very distressing and conflicting feelings, Joel isn’t too creepy or extremely dark, but he is still not a good person, mentions of Tommy. VERY BRIEF SMUT in the form of cockwarming, daddy kink but i didn’t go overboard this time, pet names (honey, baby, babygirl, sweetheart) if i missed anything, you can POLITELY let me know because if i missed anything, it was purely accidental. minimal editing.
PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS.
if this isn’t your thing, that’s fine, just scroll on by.
word count: 1.4k
a/n: i might actually throw up idk. i’ve had this itch to try dark joel and seeing as i have major writer’s block with all my other wips i decided to just scratch the itch. this is a little out of my comfort zone but i actually ended up feeling pleased with what i wrote. this is my personal take on dark/raider joel, i’m sure it is very out of character but it’s fanfiction so…yeah. here it is.
It’s the rain that rouses you from your sleep.
It beats down heavily on the remote cabin’s tin roof.
Loud. Much too loud.
You roll over, settling yourself on your side.
The mattress is old, worn, rotting beneath the sheets.
You can’t complain, though. At least you have a bed.
Everybody else is forced to sleep on the hard floor.
He always gets the room with the bed.
As his special girl, that means you always get the room with the bed too.
It’s not quite as flattering as one would believe.
He only ever wants the bedroom for one reason—to keep you behind a locked door so you can’t run.
You sigh softly and stare out the window. He’d secured that too, made certain that it couldn’t be opened from the inside.
Closing your eyes, you try and go back to sleep.
Sleep doesn’t come.
His absence is starting to bother you.
You’ve been with him for an entire season now.
You’re getting used to him.
The sound of his voice.
The warmth of his body.
The taste of his lips.
You can’t even sleep without him next to you.
“Fuck,” you whisper, clutching the stale sheets, balling them in your fists out of frustration.
How was it possible? How could you be missing him?
He had taken everything from you.
Your family.
Your home.
Your innocence.
He was holding you captive. He was a monster.
But a monster doesn’t keep you safe.
Doesn’t clothe you.
Doesn’t feed you.
Doesn’t protect you.
He did all of those things and more.
Is that why you feel so empty without him beside you?
Is that why you’re no longer so certain you would run if you were given the chance to escape him?
You fucking hated him for what he’d done.
Yet here you are, aching for him to come back to you.
It’s another hour before you hear the lock clicking.
Joel pushes through the door, quietly closing it behind him.
“Y’awake?” he asks, slipping his pack off his shoulders.
“Mhm,” you answer with your back to him. “I am.”
You hear the sound of his pack hitting the floor.
His worn leather boots being kicked off.
His rifle being set down, propped against the wall.
“How was the hunt?”
You can feel him freeze as he’s taking off his jacket.
Getting you to willingly speak to him had always been a lot like pulling teeth. Difficult, almost impossible.
When he doesn’t respond, you roll over to face him.
There’s a swoop in your tummy.
Joel is drenched from head to toe. His blue denim shirt clings to his broad frame and his dark, graying curls are slicked back away from his face.
He’s got such a handsome face.
Monsters aren’t supposed to have handsome faces.
He raises an eyebrow. “You’re really askin’ me how the hunt went?” Suspicion laces his tone. “Why? Y’worried you won’t eat tonight?”
Of course you weren’t.
Joel Miller doesn’t let you go hungry.
When food is scarce, he makes sure you eat first. If he notices you rubbing your tummy because your portion wasn’t enough, he’ll give you his own portion.
He takes care of you.
“No.” You pause and sit up. The sheets you two share fall away from your body, leaving your soft, supple breasts on full display for him. “Just wanted to know how your morning went. That’s all.”
It’s not your tits that make his cock twitch against the zipper of his jeans—it’s the sincerity that flashes across your features, the sound of it in the tone of your voice.
You’re being sweet to him.
He clears his throat lightly.
“Went real good. Brought down a deer. Female, ‘bout a hundred pounds or so. Enough to keep all of us well fed for the next couple of weeks,” he says with a nod. “Was pissin’ rain the entire time but it was worth it. Tommy’s in the shed out back right now dressin’ it so we can get a stew started.” He pauses. “You’re gonna get a proper meal tonight, babygirl. Belly’s gonna be nice and full.”
He’s not just talking about food and you know it.
You make an effort to meet his gaze, but you can’t. You can’t bring yourself to do it, not when you remembered how he’d taken you away from your family—how he had carried you over his shoulder, kicking and screaming as his people raided your camp and slaughtered every last member of your group because that’s what Joel Miller had ordered them to do.
Looking him in the eye might be the one thing you will never, ever be able to do.
“It’s cold,” you murmur after a minute. “You should get out of those wet clothes before you get sick.”
With a subtle nod, Joel turns around and starts peeling off his clothes until he’s completely naked. He uses an old rag to dry himself off as best as he can, although it doesn’t do much for him.
You can’t help yourself and stare—your gaze drags over the strong muscles of his back and shoulders, how they flex and ripple beneath his skin with every single one of his movements. Arousal pools between your thighs and all you can do is fucking hate yourself for wanting it, for wanting him.
“S’pretty early still,” he states, his back still to you as he runs the rag through his hair. “Y’should try to get some more sleep.”
The confession tumbles out of your mouth before you can even think about stopping it.
“I couldn’t sleep while you were gone.”
Surprised, he turns around.
Almost immediately, your eyes fall to his cock.
Even when he isn’t fully hard, he’s still so fucking big.
“Is that so?” Joel asks, sounding rather pleased.
“Yes,” you say, softly. “I—I missed you.”
His lips turn upwards into a subtle, faint grin.
“Yeah?” he coos. “My sweet little girl missed me while I was gone? Hm?” Slowly, he approaches the bed. It dips slightly and the frame creaks as he plants a knee on the mattress and leans over towards you. Gently, Joel takes your chin between his index finger and thumb. “Y’need Daddy by your side so you can sleep, sweetheart?”
“Yes,” you whisper, warm tears glazing over your eyes.
It’s bad enough your body welcomed him so easily.
Now your heart was starting to do the same.
And then there was your mind.
What if that stopped fighting him too?
Part of you is afraid it already has.
Joel climbs into bed, joining you under the sheets.
“M’here, my pretty girl. C’mere, honey.” He coaxes you to lay on your side and pulls you back against his chest. His skin is still damp, frigid from having been out in the elements, but somehow he’s still warm. “That better?”
“Need you closer,” you mumble, wiggling against him.
Joel groans, his thick cock hard and throbbing against the small of your back. He nips at your bare shoulder as his hand drags down the length of your body and slips between your thighs. “Christ, babygirl. Pussy’s soakin’ wet for me. Looks like she missed me while I was gone too, didn’t she, sweetheart?”
He runs his finger along your slick, silky folds.
“Daddy,” you whimper, bucking into his hand.
“Don’t worry, honey. Daddy knows what you need.”
Joel pulls his hand from between your legs.
You almost cry—you’re so fucking desperate for him.
And you shouldn’t be.
He reaches in between your bodies, his hand wrapping around the base of his cock. Without warning, he slips it into your tight, aching cunt, sheathing himself in your warm, wet heat in one smooth stroke.
You choke out a sob.
It’s always overwhelming, that initial stretch.
That fullness, the feeling of him being in your belly.
“S’alright, sweetheart. S’alright. I know you can take it,” he soothes you. “You’re such a good girl for me. Always take my cock so fuckin’ well. So good for me, baby. You feel better now that Daddy’s cock is buried inside your pretty little pussy?”
He drapes an arm around you, pulling your back flush against his chest.
“Yes,” you breathe, placing your hand on top of his.
Joel feathers a kiss onto your neck.
“Go to sleep, babygirl. M’here. Ain’t goin’ nowhere,” he promises you.
That shouldn’t be a comfort to you. But it is.
You close your eyes, your fingers subconsciously lacing together with his as you start to drift.
Cunt full of his cock, you fall asleep in your captor’s arms.
divider credit to @saradika🤍
#tw dubcon#tw dubious consent#tw noncon#raider joel#raider! joel#dark!fic#dark! joel miller#dark joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller smut#joel miller drabble#joel miller fanfiction#tw daddy kink#dark!joel x reader#fic: captive
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MINORS DNI 18+
! ── BABY DADDY!JASON TODD who can't come around more than once or twice a year. His way of life isn't sustainable for a home, and it certainly isn't safe for a daughter. You and him decided it was best to part ways before that positive pregnancy test, and since he discovered a kid he helped make it didn't change his level of involvement. He's got a lot of eyes on him, and he can't draw attention to anything important to him.
! ── Your daughter adores him. She squeals with delight every time he visits, running full barrel towards him so he can scoop her up. Unbeknownst to her your concern with how he found you again, and how he broke in to the apartment. Apparently running and hiding is not enough when you face the Red Hood. You reluctantly greet him with a half-assed kiss on the cheek, wrapping your arm around his neck to incline him towards you. Your daughter on his hip takes full advantage of hugging you both at the same time, and pressed against your former lover makes you tight-lipped.
! ── He's dangerous for a number of reasons that span beyond what any angry enemy of his would do if they found out where he's been going. You're most afraid of what he's able to make you do the longer you're with him. Only able to hold onto your anger for so long until he melts that cold exterior and somehow convinces you to let him warm your bed again.
! ── He's got it down to a science. As soon as you give him that scathing look, he tells your daughter to run along because "Mommy and Daddy have to talk." while she thoughtfully strokes his chin with her little hand, only to nod with an audible sigh, shaking out her wild hair she won't let you brush. With a little push to her back, she scampers off to her room and he stands to his full height. "I just wanted to see her." he tells you, with that pleading tone you've fallen for countlessly because he knows you're going to say: "It's not safe." for the thousandth time.
! ── He'll tower over you, incline towards you while you scold him under your breath. A hushed argument ensues that your daughter tries to listen in on, and can only hear bits and pieces about how she's not owned, and her dad should get to see her. Stuff she doesn't understand, especially because she can't understand his lack of presence being such a complicated thing when she has no sense of object permanence. If a dad refuses to be there more, it's a problem. You want to cut Jason out completely. That's not fair, as he'll tell you, to the daughter you get to keep.
! ── It's in the way he stands next to you. He's so much taller than you, broader, and muscled. He bulks up more and more every time you see him. He doesn't use his size to intimidate you, rather takes advantage of something else. Big hands stuffed in his back pockets make his leather jacket sit on his wide shoulders exquisitely. His hair is windblown from his motorbike and just the smell of him has a dangerous Pavlov effect on you. Like your eyes want to flutter as they roll into the back of your head and lightning shoots straight down to your core, stinging at the memory of what it's like to be filled by him. The longer you're with him, the thinner your resolve becomes. It evaporates in front of you as he sweeps a hand through his hair, and his posture slacks. "C'mon." he drags out the word playfully, advancing on you. Your hand interrupts him, bracing on his firm chest to keep him from coming closer. "Can't we talk about something else? You're getting me all worked up. Missed you."
You roll your jaw, that resolve slipping. Addicted to him, you're reticent as his tongue darts out to wet his lips while he's eyeing yours. "Jay..." you murmur, and he can hear the defeat in your voice.
! ── "Lucky we got a sitter, huh?" Jason's smug voice cuts through the wet sounds of sex that fills the room. "Now I get some time with my other little girl." That sick delight causes you to reach back, weakly banging your fist against his thigh. He snickers, wolfish and husky resounding from the back of his throat. "Mommy's been missing me, huh? Can feel her clenching down on me like a fuckin' vice."
His thick cock hurts stretching you out, but you needed that pain. There's something about Jason that keeps you saying yes, and it pushed through your requirement of foreplay, unbuckling that belt in haste, comfort be damned you wanted that dick. You're on all fours and he's giving it to you from the back, just how you like it, fucking you like a dog while his hand tangles all up in your hair. He yanks you back by it, and you can't even think of what to say other than mindless pleasured babbles.
"You let me do this every time I come over. Seems like you fuck with me or something." It's true, regardless of the cruel insults you've thrown at him to get him to stay away from you, it's all because you can't say no to him. It's the reason you got pregnant, it's the reason you can't run away far enough, and it's the reason you fuck him every time he comes to visit the kid he helped make.
#1k#2k#ch: baby daddy!jason#indy: headcanons#jason todd headcanons#jason todd smut#jason todd x reader#jason todd x fem!reader#jason todd x you#jason todd x y/n#jason todd imagine#jason todd fic#jason todd fanfiction#jason todd headcanon#jason todd hc#red hood smut#red hood x reader#arkham knight smut#arkham knight x reader#baby daddy!jason#baby daddy jason todd#red hood x fem!reader
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I don't know how much it fits but, keeping with the theme of butcher!simon's neighborhood being a bit dangerous:
where I grew up (rough neighborhood) there were often bars/pubs and even gas stations nearby that operated all afternoon/night and guys often congregated outside smoking cigarettes and what not. they never bothered the residents, but they damn well worked as guard dogs and warded off strangers.
so... idea: simon and his buddies hanging out outside the corner pub when reader is coming/going to her second job in the weekends, watching closely to make sure she makes it from the bus/train stop to the building door, especially after dark.
OR
alternatively!! simon who stays up and checks out of his window when reader is coming home after dark and doesn't let himself go to sleep until he hears her door unlocking and her making some type of sound (like closing her rickety door or whatever).
i dont think you understand….. reading this altered my brain so viscerally. guard dog simon. yeah.
-
“Still got yer balls in her purse?”
Simon lights his cigarette. The soft smoulder of it barely offsets the flickering streetlight above them, scarcely illuminates the sidewalk. It shines over his face, hanging from the threshold of his lips.
“Yup,” he hums. “Right where I want ‘em.”
Johnny cackles through the plume of smoke curling up and out of his lips. He pats Simon on the back, taking a long drag of his cig, and bumps his shoulder with Kyle’s.
“When’d’ya reckon he’ll let us meet the Bird?”
Kyle rolls his eyes. “When he finds someone to pay.”
“Put a sock in it,” Simon snarls. Taps the ash off his cig.
Photo is a generous word for it. But it was the only thing Simon had to testify to your existence. A blurry, smudgy picture taken on his phone. Half-eclipsed by his thumb which was accidentally in the corner of his camera. A picture of you leaving the lift—a shallow angle of you walking in some leggings, returning from work.
It was privy to Simon. A likeness to indulge in during his work days. But in a flitting moment, Johnny laid his eyes on it. Read him to filth for it.
And now, they’re here.
Off-white sheets of rain running off the canopy they’re situated under. Each holding a cigarette to their lips, resting against the wet brick of a hole-in-the-wall pub. The warm hum from inside pooling into the empty streets of Manchester.
A thin sound arises from it. The chime of a shopkeeper’s bell, signifying the door is being opened. Into the diving rain, you step out, clutching a backpack against your shoulder, your uniform sticking to your skin.
It’s a heavy mass of muscle you almost run into. You stop yourself with a hand split against their chest, against the fleetly rise-and-fall of their jacket.
You have to hoist your neck up to see him. It takes you a while to reorient yourself, to recognise the depthless copper of his eyes. And it takes you even longer to register the underside of his face. Bare, flooded under the soft light of streetlights.
“Simon!” You squeak. The succession of his heartbeat pumping under your palm. Two men hovering behind him, exchanging puckish smirks. “What are you doing here?”
Simon’s eyebrows purse like he’s confused. He tilts his head, looking at you like a puppy, and shrugs. “I’m here to pick you up.”
“Pick me up–” a chord of bemusement strikes you, collapsing your sentence. Your reservations catch up to you, hitting you like bricks. “Pick me up?”
Simon grunts. His eyes flicker down to your skirt, how it flurries in the wind, and pulls you beneath the awning.
“Getting y’rself all wet under there,” he grumbles. “Brought you this.”
Simon holds up an umbrella. He waits for you to take it before splaying his big hand on the hind of your spine and turning you around, shepherding you forward.
Your voice is warped with bashfulness when you speak. “Where’re we going?”
“Home,” he says. Three pairs of footfall tread on your heels. Each one more intimidating than the other. Sticky and wet as they trail behind you.
“Just keep walking, Trouble,” Simon mumbles. “‘m here.”
It’s a shield that keeps everyone away. The invasive eyes, the creeping men that usually accompany you on your walk home after work. But today, they’re silent.
The three men are a pack of dogs behind you.
Simon, kissing the ground before you walk on it.
#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon ghost x reader#ghost x reader#ghost/reader#cod x reader#cod mw2#simon writing#writing
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hoodie season || Chan x Reader
Summary: You're not stealing Chan's hoodies. He's not happy about it.
Word count: 1.4k
Warnings & Tags: Tooth-rutting fluff, established relationship, that should be it.
A/N: Wrote a silly lil one-shot for an idea I got tonight! This was literally written in under two hours, so, uh, I hope you enjoy it as much as I did lol and I apologize for any typos.
Reblogs, feedback and comments are welcome and encouraged!
It starts, without you being aware of it, on a July evening. You and Chan have only been dating for a couple weeks then, and you feel like you’re on cloud nine. For the better half of the night, which you’re spending with his friend group, you’re in his arms, your back against his chest, his chin comfortably resting on your shoulder. Changbin and Jisung tease him about it, but he shrugs it off like it means nothing. He’s got you now, and he likes showing you off, so why wouldn’t he?
It does take you aback when he lets go of you and the cold hits you. It was hot outside all day, and you hadn’t realized that the temperature had dropped by this much. A shiver shakes you to your core, which Chan doesn’t miss, even if he’s being called away to play the guitar.
“You want my hoodie?” he asks, eyes filled with concern.
“No, I’m okay, babe,” you say with a smile. “I’ve brought a jacket.”
He nods, and that’s all there is to it.
It comes back on a night the two of you are spending out. Chan takes you out to this fancy restaurant, and you dress accordingly, always pleased when you get a chance to impress him — and impress him you do. He does that thing that you think is adorable, where he keeps giggling throughout the meal. Under the table, your knees keep touching, and every time, without fail, his ears turn bright red. You love that you still have that effect on your boyfriend of three months.
After that, because you’re near a park, you decide to go for a walk in the night air. It doesn’t take long before you’re shivering in your small, tight dress.
“I’ve got a hoodie in my car,” Chan says, ever the gentleman. “Want me to go get it for you?”
You’re not keen on being left alone in the dark, and your high heels mean that if you go with him, it’ll take much longer than it should. Plus, it would ruin your outfit.
“It’s fine,” you say, arranging your scarf so it wraps around your shoulders. “We’ll be heading home soon anyway, right?”
“Sure,” he nods quickly, and it’s your turn to giggle, because it’s so cute, how Chan always indulges you.
He ends up picking you up when you’re walking back too slowly for his taste, and you protest, but you’re no longer cold when you get to his car.
The subject — which, by the way, you still haven’t realized is a subject — comes back yet again on a night you’re spending in his apartment. You’re coming out of the shower, a towel wrapped around you, and you’re going through your bag to find the clothes you’d planned on wearing for the night when something lands on the bed in front of you. You glance up to find Chan looking at you, leaning against the door frame.
“Just in case you get cold.”
You have, slowly but surely, made your way into November, but Chan’s place is warm, and you know you’ll have a human radiator, so you grin at him.
“I have a feeling I won’t be needing it tonight.”
Chan grins — but his ears turn red, even now.
You do a Secret Santa, a few days before Christmas, with Chan and his friend group, at Changbin’s place. It’s an incredibly nice house, but it’s big and it’s old, and you soon find yourself huddling against Chan for warm. It makes him laugh at first, and he presses a kiss into your hair, arm solidly wrapped around you as he rubs your arm. When you don’t appear to warm up as the night keeps going, he disappears for a few minutes, ignoring your protests.
He comes back from his car and hands you one of his signature black hoodies.
“You’re my savior, babe,” you sigh as you pull it over your head.
Chan beams.
His victory is short-lived, though, because you pull away from him after that — with the hoodie, cuddling makes you too hot.
You leave the hoodie neatly folded in his car when you both go back to your place for the night.
It’s just a few days later that you meet Chan’s family for the first time. You’re all dressed-up, determined to do your best so that they’ll like you, even if Chan’s promised you that they would, no matter what, because he loves you, and that’s all they care about.
He dropped the word so easily, and you were left speechless. You haven’t stopped thinking about it since.
Even now, when you’re sitting next to him, making small talk with his mom and listening to his sister tease him playfully, you have butterflies in your stomach. The hand he’s placed over yours on the table, again making it look so natural, so easy for him, isn’t helping.
“Wanna go for a midnight walk?” he offers, later that night. “It’s kind of a family tradition.”
“Sure,” you say, voice squeakier than usual, and he tilts his head as he studies you, but he doesn’t comment on it.
“You’re not dressed warm enough,” he warns you, and before you can say that you’ve brought appropriate clothing, he’s taking off his hoodie and pulling it down over your head. “There. All good.”
It’s late when you come back, so you both wish his parents a goodnight before Chan drives you back to your apartment. You wait until you’ve made it up the stairs and you’ve opened the door to put your arms around him and pull him down for a kiss. It’s soft, slow, and filled with all of your emotions.
“What’s that for?” Chan whispers against your lips. He’s warm against you, his hands on your hips, and you feel so grounded by him. You always do.
“I love you too,” you whisper back.
The hoodie ends up forgotten on the floor.
You celebrate New Year’s Day with Chan’s friends, again, but really, they’re your friends by now. You get at Changbin’s house early so you can help with the cooking and decorating the place, and end up teaming up with Felix and Minho in the cooking department, while Hyunjin takes over the decorations and forbids everyone from approaching him while he works.
It’s not because he’s shy. It’s because he thinks you’re all terrible.
Chan arrives kind of late minute, busy working on songs, as always, while you’re putting out the drinks you’d brought with you. You greet him with a quick kiss. You still have a million things to do.
“I’ve got your hoodie in my bag, you should put it back in your car,” you just tell him as you rush back into the kitchen.
You miss the way he pouts at you.
It’s later that night, but still with a couple hours to go until midnight, that he approaches you while you’re outside, staring up at the night sky and enjoying the fresh air after hours cooped up inside. He wraps his arms around your waist, buries his head in your neck. You lean back into the familiar touch with a satisfied sigh — until he mumbles something unintelligible.
“What was that?” you ask with a frown.
Even with the only light coming through the windows of Changbin’s house, you can tell he’s blushing when he pulls away from you.
“Why aren’t you keeping my hoodies?”
You blink at him.
“…because they’re your hoodies?”
He opens his mouth, closes it.
“Yeah, but they’re kinda… your hoodies too, y’know?”
You tilt your head slowly, and soon, you’re unable to fight the grin that’s spreading on your lips as you watch him get increasingly pouty.
“Do you want me to steal your hoodies?”
The blush spreads.
“Do you like it when I wear them?”
You’re just having fun now.
“Yeah,” he answers, before cocking an eyebrow at you. “Think it’s hot, by the way.”
You burst out laughing, and he tightens his hold around you when that takes you away from him. God, do you love that man. Once you’ve collected yourself, you reach a hand up to gently cup his cheek.
“Okay, I’ll steal your hoodies. Anything for you, love.”
He smiles, satisfied, and kisses you softly. He brings a hand to cover yours, entangles his fingers with yours.
You don’t tell him, but the truth is, you feel warm and fuzzy all over inside whenever he’s around.
So you don’t see the point in having a hoodie when you can have him instead.
taglist: @lethallyprotected @jisuperboard
Masterlist
#stray kids#bang chan#chan#skz#skz fluff#stray kids fluff#bang chan fluff#chan fluff#bang chan x reader#chan x reader#skz x reader#stray kids x reader#stray kids imagine#skz imagine#chan imagine#bang chan imagine#candywrites
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Bruised
Characters: Lip Gallagher x reader, Fiona, Ian, Debbie, V
Summary/ Request: How do you think lip would react if fwb that they've known each other forever ends up coming to the house in the middle of the night in the middle of winter with sleep shorts and a tank top with socks, covered in bruises
Words: 1.5k
Warnings: Parent abuse, physically abuse
A/N: PROTECTIVE LIP AHHHHH!!!! I just love him and know he'd protect reader at ALL COST! All mistakes are mine as I am sometimes too lazy to proof read but I hope you enjoy!! Let me know what you think!! <3
You are in a daze.
Your frail body shakes as the sudden flashbacks of yelling and pushing and crying continue to play in your head. Trying to understand, to comprehend what in the hell just happened. Thinking a million thoughts yet completely nothing at all. Your head aches, the shooting pressure builds, beating against your skull.
The snow crunches under your steps, soaking through your socks as you stumble to keep yourself up right. The icy wind causes you to tremble more than the horrors of the night. Barely able to keep your eyes open wide enough to see where you are going.
Having no particular destination in mind but here you are standing outside Lip Gallagher’s house, knocking on the door in the middle of the night, begging to be let in.
Lip has been the person you’ve leaned on for almost every bullshit thing that has happened in your life, understanding each other on a deeper level. It was only recently that your relationship with Lip became sexual but your connection was much more than that. And unfortunately neither of you have the guts to make it anything more than just friends who sleep together.
Your knocking rapidly increases, quickly becoming impatient until you hear the lock on the other side click and the porch light turn on. Coming face to face with his older sister Fiona who’s look of annoyance quickly washes over with concern, brows furrowing, mouth open in shock as she stares at your fragile body, wearing only a cotton tank top, small boxer shorts and socks shielding you from the cold. Your exposed skin is covered in purple bruises, deepening in color with every second that you tremble in front of her.
Immediately snatching one of the jackets off the hook behind her and wrapping it around your shoulders as she pulls you inside. Goosebumps lining your skin as the warm, inside air circles around you. The pain is no longer from the cold but from the aching bruises.
And while your world has been turned upside down, a happy boy on the next street over is fighting a huge grin as he walks back home.
The extra skip in Lip’s step was from the wonderful night he just spent with Karen, mainly the sex part. Their relationship has become more positive and Lip hopes that they are finally going to make it more official, like boyfriend/ girlfriend official, no one else on the side.
But...becoming official with Karen means that he will no longer get to see you...at all. Karen is hugely jealous of your relationship with Lip. The inside jokes, the constant hanging out, the connection that she sees that you two are obviously oblivious to. And the only way that she agreed to making things official with Lip is that he will have to cut off all ties with you.
Lip is feeling torn, picking between you and Karen should be so easy for him but these past couple of months, especially when you add sex into the equation, makes him question everything. He lets out one more deep breath, the fog floating in front of him as he knows that tomorrow he will finally have to tell you that you can’t be friends anymore. Knowing that the outcome is going to be disastrous.
Skipping every other skip as he jogs up the stairs of the back porch, a curious thought enters his mind as he notices all the lights shining into the darkness of the night and the door unlocked as he jiggles the handle. Walking into the warm kitchen, unwrapping his scarf and shrugging off his jacket, dismissing the items onto the table until some unknown later time.
The commotion from the front end of the house travels around his body as he stumbles to kick off his boots, catching himself on the wall by the stairs to stop himself from falling over. Peaking around the corner, trying to understand the roaring chaos that fills that Gallagher house tonight.
Ian comes down the stairs, his hand placed on his forehand and the other holds a phone tightly to his ear. Practically arguing with the person on the other line, speaking some details about a house over on Gilmore Street.
Gilmore Street…that’s where you live.
Lip’s interest suddenly peaked, his face asking a plain question towards his younger brother…what the hell is going on here?
But Ian waves him off, continuing on his story on how the police need to check on the house now and how something really fucked up happened.
Lip stands there dumbfounded, trying to figure out this super confusing situation that he just walked into. His attention floats elsewhere as the two women in the next room talking abruptly loud. If he didn't know Fiona and V personally, then he would think hat they are arguing. Walking closer to the dining room but not actually in the room itself, Lip watches their interaction.
Their movements are elaborate and complex. Fiona runs fingers through her hair, tossing it to one side, passing the hard floor beneath her. The conversation between them is making no sense to Lip, something about having to wait until tomorrow and trying to solve some problem.
Lip stands still, his mind trying to piece the puzzle together from the small details that he has been given. But how could he, when it feels like everyone is talking in code. Like it's some top secret event that he can't know anything about.
Feeling something graze his side, bringing him back to reality to see Debbie walk between the two women towards the living room. In her hands a mug with steam coming from it. Walking quickly to the couch where she hands the mug to a girl. Lip following Debbie's same movements to get a better look at who's in his house. Eyes wide when it see that it's you...
A confused look freezes on his face as he studies your body. Your shaky hands reach out towards the mug as the warm contains seeping through the glass cup through your body. Your eyes fixated in front of you, as if the small girl standing in front of you isn’t actually there. Your chest heaving rapidly, breathing heavily through your nose. Knees bruised, shaking together.
It is as if the dam that keeps the water of emotions behind a strong wall suddenly shatters. The instant fire spreads through Lip’s body as he sees your weak state. The walls of decorum crumble as his hands turn into fist and his jaw locks. The blood making his face bright red, moving quickly to your side, his knees hitting into the wooden floors hard as he practically pushes Debbie out of the way so he is kneeling in front of you.
“WHAT HAPPENED?” Lip voice breaks through the chaos of the house as he holds onto your shoulders, shaking slightly but your gaze would shift to meet his, “What happened, tell me!” He whines, the pain mixed with anger driving his actions.
“Don’t yell at her dummy.” Fiona shouts as she comes over, grabbing Lip off the floor so they are face to face.
“What the fuck is going on?” The spit spewing from his mouth, his hand signaling towards you and why you are bruised and bleeding and hurt. Why you? Why you?
“We don’t know. Your little girlfriend just showed up here like 10 minutes ago.” V crosses her arms behind Fiona.
“She’s not my girlfriend,” Lip quickly remarks, the comment would have stung you more if you can actually concentrate but tonight is not the night for you to be dwelling over how Lip Gallagher feels about you.
Your soft voice speaks his name.
Lip coming to you again, “Hey,” Lip’s kind eyes are on you, his touch now gentle as his heart aches.
Eyes shaking as they meet him, glossing over as a tear slips down your cheek. But you struggle to get any words out.
“Just tell me what happened?” His hand on your cheek, wiping away the tears, “Please tell me.”
Gulping hard, your trembling body making the liquid in your mug move, hesitating as you say, “My dad."
“He got out?”
“From where?” Debbie asks.
Lip groans, hate having to explain further, “Prison. Shut up.” Debbie rolls her eyes, obviously annoyed.
“Th-this morning.” The words feel like cotton balls in your mouth.
“He did this to you?” Standing up immediately, “I’m gonna kill that motherfucker. Get the bat Ian.” He points towards his brother who instantly follows his orders.
The tears start flowing now, the snob leaking from your nose. Your body collapsing as the abuse of the night finally settles in causing you lose yourself.
“Lip.” Deb pulls Lip's attention back to you.
“She needs you right now buddy. You can beat the son-of-a-bitch up tomorrow.” Fiona patting his back before leaving the room.
And he knew Fiona was right. He didn't need to be this guy who beat the shit out of some low-life, that isn't going to make him a hero to you. Lip needs to be here for you now, comfort you, take care of you. Be the man that you need.
He realized why you came over to his house, looking for him at your darkest moment. Understanding that you and him can spend hours together without saying a word. Be closer, more intimate then sex with Karen will ever be. It was always going to be you, he was always going to pick you.
Wrapping his arms around you as you sob deeper against his chest, shushing as he rocks you, "I've got you." Kissing the top of your head. The instantly relief coating your body.
~~~
Let me know what you think!! thank you for reading. I LOVE YOU!!!
#lip gallagher imagine#lip gallagher x reader#Lip Gallagher angst#lip gallagher#shameless x reader#lip gallagher fanfic#shameless imagine#theapangea
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CRUEL BEYOND MY YEARS . . . you do the impossibleーyou make dazai feel. that’s why you’re his, you just don’t know it yet.
ft. pm!dazai + f!reader, pm!reader, chuuya is there too, so are oda and ango, jealousy & possessive behavior, some descriptions of depression & violence, 2.4k w.c.
EVERYWHERE, EVERYTHING SERIES MASTERLIST
dazai knows he’s supposed to be in a meeting right now.
he yawns, hands behind his head in a makeshift pillow, overgrown legs hanging off the arm of the couch as he stretches out. the heels of his shoes graze his jacket, haphazardly tossed aside when he first came into his office and laid down.
even with the sleep mask covering his face, blocking out the sun that pools into the top floors of port mafia’s headquarters, he knows it’s you who’s approaching his door.
he fights back a smile, something he rarely has the opportunity to do. he keeps his breathing steady and deep as he hears the familiar rhythm of your knuckles against his office door, knocking in a code. you both came up with it when you were younger, freshly sixteen against the hallow walls of his shipping container; your own shared secret. he hears the gentle creak of the old wood as you peek inside.
“dazai?” he hears the soft sound of your footsteps as you come closer, then a sigh he’d recognize anywhere. “dazai. take that thing off. it’s creepy.”
he remains still. he’s supposed to be asleep, after all.
“i see mr. executive is as busy as always,” you say sarcastically, but he can still hear the smile in your voice. you slip your thumb under the soft cotton padding of the sleep mask and slide it up his face, pushing his bangs back. the soft glide of your skin against his forehead leaves tingles in its wake, and it’s easy enough to ignore the burn of his one visible eye adjusting to the bright afternoon light when you’re hovering over him like an angel. “don’t you want to say goodbye to me?”
a new mission. he sighs exhaustedly, as if was the one who was assigned. “how long will you be gone this time?”
“not long, probably,” your hip presses against his as you sit on the edge of the couch. you rest your cheek on your hand, arm bridged over his stomach as your elbow props on the backrest. “chuuya got assigned to it with me. him and i make a good team.”
“you shouldn’t hang around him so much,” he tilts his head back. “you should be careful. he eats dog food, you know. he really is a dog, isn’t he?”
“shut up,” you laugh, and the sound makes his heartbeat quicken without his permission. “i know that isn’t true.”
“it is!” he sits up on his elbows so he can meet your eyes, his own shimmering with mirth. “i even saw him do it. you trust me, don’t you?”
you flick his forehead, giggling as you stand back up and straighten your skirt. “you’re just jealous you don’t get to come on this mission with us.”
with us? dazai swears he could be sick and die right there on the couch, as if there even was a ‘you and chuuya’. the thought alone makes him nearly double over in pain. if anything, it should be him you were paired up with, and if you asked for his opinion, it was a joke that you weren’t by defaultー even if little assignments like this were below him now that he’s an executive. no one else knew you as well as he did, and no one else ever would; besides, he’d known you longer than that stupid slug. mori’s negligence on the matter makes his stomach churn and his skin prickle uncomfortably.
“hey,” he grabs onto your jacket sleeve, where the cuffs are still a little too long and the fabric hangs over your wrists, before you can walk away. “be careful.”
you smile at him brightly, giving him a thumbs up, but it barely fazes him. he watches you leave, gaze dark and mouth firm. something bitter starts to crawl up his stomach, growing in his chest like thorned vines intertwining and tightening around his ribs.
when mori first introduced you and dazai to one another, you were both fourteen years old. the first thing he noticed when he saw you was that your clothing was too big, hanging awkwardly off your body. you’ve both grown since then, nearly identical black jackets and ties over white button-downs adorning your frames. the second thing he noticed was that you were different from him; he could tell from your eyes, bright and glistening.
he can’t remember a time when he wasn’t burdened by the feeling of looking through a window, always a spectator. you were different; you had a seat at the table. every bomb placed, every trigger pulledー you were there with him through it all, with the same fucked up feeling of adrenaline pounding through your veins, except you were attached to the world around you. you saw meaning in it somehow.
he wants to pick you apart piece by piece and study you under a microscope. he wants to understand just what it is about you that makes you so intriguing. what do you know that he doesn’t?
how are you making him feel this way?
he thinks about you on your mission, even when he tries not to. he flips through his paperwork lazily, pulling sheets from their stapled packets and folding them into origami shapes. he stares at his finger when he gets a paper cut on the edge of a report about some dispute in kyoto, watching the blood dribble down his skin in small beads. he raids the infirmary for chemicals, slipping past the nurses and picking the lock to the medicine cabinet, pocketing bottles and extra rolls of bandages. he plays on his handheld console, sighing in frustration when his character dies again; if only it was so easy.
it’s nearing the latest hours of the night when he decides to sneak into your office that he finds you again, back from your mission and chatting with chuuya, who’s arms are crossed as he leans against the edge of your desk. dazai skims his eyes over you, noting with satisfaction that there seem to be no new visible injuries on you. he relishes in how chuuya’s brows furrow when he sees him, and how yours rise in delight, cheeks rounding in a smile. he throws his arms around your shoulders, your faces close enough for him to count your eyelashes as you tilt your head back to look at him.
“i hope you didn’t have too much fun without me,” he pouts, squeezing you against his chest. “did you keep chuuya on his leash during your mission?”
“don’t talk about me like i’m not here, idiot.”
“oh, there you are,” he eyes the aforementioned man lazily, as if he were a bug that landed near him. “i almost missed you because you’re so small.”
“i fell asleep right after we were done,” you giggle. “chuuya had to carry me back.”
“oh?” he tightens his arms. dazai always thought you were the cutest post-mission, all sleepy and touchy; he always made sure he was around for those moments. “did he?”
you’re talking, something else about the mission, but he doesn’t listen. chuuya looks from you to him when he feels his gaze, eyebrow raising in a silent question. they screw up in irritation when dazai’s eyes narrow as his lips curl up into a cruel grin. he cranes his neck down, nose grazing your temple before he drags his tongue across your cheek.
“ew, dazai!” you try to shove him away, but he doesn’t go far, still clinging to you tightly. “what the hell? you’re so gross!”
he laughs in your ear, even as you try to pry his hands off his shoulders. you twist your hand around his wrist, tugging on it and glaring at him over your shoulder.
“let go, dazai.”
you’ve only ever looked at him like this when he woke you up in the middle of the night, knocking over one of your chairs after he broke into your apartment; you weren’t able to fall back asleep for hours, and when you finally woke up the next day, you realized he ate the last of the mapo tofu in your fridge.
he loosens his arms, stumbling when you shove him. the feeling of your hands pushing him away is nowhere near as warm as when you brushed his hair back earlier that day. there’s no pretty, warm smile dimpling your cheeks either; just your back retreating from your office, the sound of your door slamming shut, and chuuya’s annoyed glare prickling his skin. his chest tightens.
the flickering light of bar lupin’s sign penetrates the foggy night air, like a lighthouse calling lost ships home. ango and oda are already inside when dazai arrives. a cigarette dribbles loose curls of smoke into the air as ango cradles his glass between his palms and oda tilts his head back to sip his whiskey. the bar’s most devoted patron hops from dazai’s seat knowingly, landing on his little white paws as dazai sits down on the stool with a huff.
he rests his chin against his forearm, sighing into his elbow as the bartender places his usual in front of him wordlessly. the two older men look at the pouty pile of messy hair between them. oda knows he’s waiting for one of them to ask, so he does. “did something happen today, dazai?”
“yes,” he bounces the sphere of ice against the bottom of the glass, feeling his fingertip go numb. “she’s mad at me.”
“what did you do now?” ango eyes him wearily from behind his glasses.
“how rude,” he says flatly, his voice sounding hollow without his usual playfulness. “immediately assuming i’m at fault.”
“aren’t you always?” he sighs into the rim of his glass, taking a long sip.
they both wait in silence before dazai shoots up in his seat, his stool spinning slightly.
“how can that stupid slug touch what’s mine?”
“‘yours’?” ango asks, a thin eyebrow raised. “people don’t own other people.”
“i didn’t know you two were dating,” oda says.
“we’re not,” dazai sags back down, folding his arms and laying his head down so his eyes are level with his glass again. “that’s gross.”
“you’re not?” oda repeats. “…then why are you upset?”
he feels the bandages around his eyes loosen as he turns his head away, squishing his cheek into his elbow. the cat licks his paws across the bar, before reaching up and rubbing his little face. he catches dazai’s gaze, looking at him with big, round, unblinking eyes. his chest tightens again.
the sun is rising, melting the black of the night sky to gold when dazai arrives at your apartment. his hand freezes inside his pocket, fingers wrapped around his lock pick, glancing back to your door. he lets it go and knocks instead, beating his knuckles against the wood in your secret code.
you’re in your pajamas when you open the door, and he notes the bruise on your leg that was hidden under your work uniform. he looks at you like a lost puppy; ears down, eyes big, with his tail between his legs.
“hey,” your eyes dart along his body, and he knows you’re scanning him for injuries too. “you okay?”
he doesn’t reply, and you let him meekly slip past you into your apartment. your blanket is pooled on the floor from where you were sitting at your coffee table, chopsticks and a bowl of stir fry waiting for you; the schedule of a mafiosa has your circadian rhythm flipped, eating dinner as the sun rises.
“did you eat anything yet?” you ask him, sitting back on the ground.
his big brown eyes blink down at you emptily.
you open the side of your blanket expectantly, scooting over to make space for him. you nudge your food between the two of you when he sits beside you. his stomach flutters as he thinks about you feeding him from your chopsticks, a hand cupped under his chin, your soft thumb brushing his lips as you wipe them clean. he ignores it, plucking a shrimp out of your bowl with his fingers instead.
“you can have the rest,” you bundle the blanket a little tighter around your shoulders, sighing softly as you lay your head down on his shoulder. “i made extra. i knew you’d come over.”
“you did?”
“mhm,” you rub your thumb along the edge of his bandages where his palm and wrist meet absentmindedly. “i know you.”
you do, scarily so. you like your stir fry spicy, but you kept it mild for him. because you knew he’d come over. because you knew he wouldn’t have eaten otherwise. because he only ever gets a home cooked meal when you make one for him.
“‘m sorry.” he mumbles, voice barely audible.
you tilt your head up and look at him, eyes heavy. he holds his breath as you lift your hand and cup his cheek, tracing the dark circle under his one visible eye with the pad of your thumb.
“let’s go to bed,” your voice is soft in the way it always is when you’re tired. “we can still sleep a little before we have to go back to headquarters.”
he knows every inch of your apartment, but he still lets you guide him into the dark of your room, and he’s suddenly surrounded by everything that is so quintessentially you. he has it all committed to memory: the title of the book on your nightstand you swear you’ll finish, the delicate splay of jewelry on your dresser, the pajama shorts hanging over the side of your hamper in the corner.
you practically collapse, falling into your bed and splaying your limbs with a happy sigh while he carefully lies down, staring at the ceiling and keeping his hands to himself. it’s after a few quiet moments when he feels something warm against him, and when he turns to look at you, his breath catches in his throat.
you’re so much closer to him than anyone else would ever dare to be. you curl towards him even in your sleep, like a sunflower growing towards the sun. your arm reaches towards his, fingers loosely clinging to his sleeve, as if you wanted to keep him anchored to the bed with you. he could almost make himself believe you really wanted him there.
he watches the daylight fall over your face, just as delicate as the sheet you draped over your body, still thin enough to show off the contour of your legs. you look so relaxed, cheeks full of color with the shadow of your lashes resting against them.
you looked so alive. so human.
his chest tightens.
BSD MASTERLIST
taglist . . . @little-miss-chaoss @almond-t0fu @yaeeko @annoyingpainterprincess @callm3-tash1 @janbannan @snowsilver2000
#💌 . . . with love mai ⊹ ࣪ ˖#dazai x reader#bsd x reader#dazai x you#bsd x you#dazai osamu x you#dazai osamu x reader#bungou stray dogs x reader#bsd imagines#dazai imagines#dazai fluff#bsd fluff
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— ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏᴛ ᴘʟᴀɴꜱ ᴛᴏɴɪɢʜᴛ? | ꜱᴘᴇɴᴄᴇʀ ʀᴇɪᴅ
✧— ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: NSFW | subby to soft dom! Spencer, fem! Reader, insecure Reader in the beginning, Spencer gets punched once, oral sex (male receiving), blood kink if you squint, praise kink if you squint, no use of y/n, uses of nicknames such as baby, sweetheart etc, fingering (female receiving), squirting, pussy slapping, overstimulation if you squint | lmk if I forgot something!
✧— ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: A blind date with Dr. Spencer Reid ends in a surprising manner, including a spilt lip and a thief
✧— ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3.6k
✧— ᴀ/ɴ: probably one of my most favourite work I ever wrote, please give it love <33
「ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ | ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ」
You were on a blind date with Dr. Spencer Reid.
Penelope had set you both up, and you had agreed to the date because there was no harm in it. The man himself was punctual meanwhile you were unfortunately ten minutes late. In your defense, you had to keep redoing your eyeliner.
You won't admit it to him when he asks why you were late. Instead, you said dismissively, “Oh, it's the traffic.” The stare he gave you assured you of the fact that he knew you were lying.
“The rush hour shouldn't begin in this area for another hour. Even then if you were truly stuck in traffic, you would have come even later,” he said as a matter of fact.
You raised your eyebrows in shock, your lips parting as you scoff. “Ah.. yes.. well..” You decided to let him know the truth, “It was actually because my eyeliner kept getting messed up and I had to redo it. I am sorry.”
“No need to apologize. The average woman spends about 22 and a half minutes getting ready when they go out,” he said, his fingers tapping on the table.
“Oh,” you said, taking in the fact, you suppress the urge to Google it to see if he's correct. “That's cool,” you smile softly at him.
The rest of the date goes averagely well. Spencer told you as much as he could about his work and you did the same. You learned about the man's IQ, and about the fact he was a genius. The longer the date goes on, you seem to realize you're not for someone who has achieved so many things at such a young age.
Your whole life was a mess. And Spencer noticed that you were hesitant to talk about yourself after finding out more about him. The date ended on a polite note. Despite the fact, you decided not to call him back, you liked him. He was sweet, a bit dorky but you liked hearing his random rants about things you never even thought about before.
The man insisted on walking you home and you agreed. It was a thirty-minute walk. As you both started walking, it was hard to keep pace with him. He had slowed down for you, and your hand kept brushing with his. But neither of you made the next move of simply holding hands.
You wanted to though.
Both of you continue walking in silence. You notice the full moon in the sky and grin. “The moon is so pretty,” you whispered.
“Yeah, very pretty,” Spencer mumbled back while looking at you.
You looked at him, and asked, “Wanna hold hands as well? It's kinda chilly.”
“I don't see how holding hands would help with the fact you're feeling cold. Would you like my jacket instead?”
You don't say anything, smiling at the agent so he would get the hint. He doesn't. You shake your head at yourself and state the obvious, “I would like to hold hands with you as we walk. Can I, Reid?”
He flushed, crimson covering his pale face. He stutters, “Ye- yes I would like that. And please call me Spencer.” He offers you his hand and you tangle your fingers with his. Within the next second the sweet moment is ruined.
A thief had come out of nowhere and had snatched your back. You stand there gaping at the figure that seems smaller by the second. Spencer didn't take a moment to react; he sprinted after the unsub. You get out of your stupor, your legs make you run towards the thief albeit slower than Spencer.
Spencer catches him. The agent gets punched but he quickly takes control of the situation. He twists the thief’s arm while you take your purse that was now on the street. You take out your phone and call the police. The police arrive soon.
Spencer handles everything and the thief is taken away. You notice that Spencer had a split lip and he was bleeding. “Hey,” you said, taking his attention away from the police. You raise your hand and you touch the cut. He winces.
“Sorry,” you mutter, “My house is right around the corner. I have first aid.” You add, knowing that he doesn't know how to take hints, “Come up?”
He furrowed his eyebrows. Fuck, he's adorable. Even with his perfect hair now a complete mess. He looked much, much better as a mess. You had to suppress the urge to lick the bead of blood on his lips.
“That would be nice,” he mumbles.
You bring the man to your apartment, Spencer has taken care of everything. You'll have to go to the police station tomorrow to give a statement. Right now, you focus on the pretty boy instead. You make him sit on the couch.
You bring out the first aid. You wet the cotton with the antiseptic, you sit in front of him. You already liked him. There's no denying that. But seeing him messy with blood turned you on to no fucking end. He was pretty before, now he's sexy to you. Your poor panties were suffering because of it. Completely utterly soaked with your arousal.
You act normal as you sit in front of him. You tilt his head and he lets you. Fuck. Even that made your cunt clench around nothing. You swallow as you press the bud onto his cut. He lets out a whimper. And... you felt yourself going insane, wanting to hear that sound on repeat.
You clean up the wound to the best of your abilities. You sit back satisfied. You grin at him, your hand musing his hair up because you just couldn't control yourself. “All done, pretty boy.”
You can't help but feel disappointed that it was over. He will leave. You'll drown in your own insecurities to ever ask for a second date. “You didn't like me much, did you?” Spencer asked. His hand is in his hair desperately trying to fix his ruined hairstyle.
You scoff playfully, “Why would you think that?”
“Most people I meet find me… overwhelming. Weird,” Spencer said, “I agreed to this date expecting nothing different. It was to satisfy Garcia. But… you were certainly nicer than the people I have met before. I would like to thank you for that.”
Your heart aches as you hear his words. You lean in, both of you sharing the same air now. Your hand is on his cheek, your thumb caressing his skin. “You're not weird, Spencer. You're unique. And you're out of my league. I am sorry if I made you feel bad-”
“No, you didn't,” he cuts you off, leaning in even closer. His eyebrows are furrowed as if he doesn't understand his actions. It was like you were gravity-pulling him in. Your lips brush with his, your breathing heavy. You can hear your heartbeat thumping against your ribcage.
“I never felt this way before,” he murmured, his hands getting tangled in your hair. His eyes were dark, and he closed them. He tried to pull back, trying to have a bit of self-control. He couldn't, he only leans in further, trying to close the gap between both of your lips.
“What way?” You whispered, wondering how you could make this man feel anything.
“I have an urge to kiss you. I have had that urge since you had bitten your lip nervously when I called you out in your childish lying. I have wanted to kiss you since you smiled at me genuinely as I was talking about things you as an average person couldn't possibly be interested in nor were you paying attention."
“Hey!” You chuckled, finding your way to his lap. “I was paying attention,” ‘To your lips’, you didn't add.
“Were you?” He challenged.
“Hmm,” you hum, your hands around his shoulders now. Your fingers twirling his hair near his nape.
“Liar,” he giggles. “I never thought I would find it endearing.”
Your heart warms as you hear his words. “Kiss me, Spencer,” you whispered, forgetting about his split lip. Spencer doesn't seem to care about the cut because he pressed his lips to yours as soon as he got your consent. You moan, your lips parting to welcome his tongue.
The kiss was clumsy. Wet, and sloppy and you loved it. The faint taste of blood coates your taste buds and you love it. Your tongue caresses his, trying to engrave his taste on your lips. You bite his lower lip, opening his cut. He hisses but doesn't break the kiss.
The kiss turns bloody but neither of you cares.
You rather enjoyed it more than you should. You lick the cut before kissing him again, he sucks your tongue tasting his blood on you. Both of you break the kiss before your lips meet his lips again in haste.
He groans into your mouth. You break the kiss and whisper, “Want you.” Your hands were on the hem of his sweater. “Can I?” You asked. He nods and you take it off. You then begin to unbutton the brown dress shirt he wore.
As soon as you get him undressed. Your hands begin to explore his body. He was lanky, and you loved it. He shivers when your finger tweaks his nipple. He sighs your name and you can feel his cock, hard and eager for attention beneath you.
“You like that, baby?” The nickname falls naturally from your lips. Your tongue ghosts over his neck, the hollow of his collarbone. He doesn't reply but you can feel his cock twitch. That's enough of an answer to you.
Your lips find his sensitive nipple. And you suck the hard pebble, enjoying his gasp. You smirk, as your tongue twirls against his sensitive flesh. Your hand gives his other nipple the same attention. You drag your tongue further down his stomach, your lips pressing wet kisses all over his heated skin. “Can I taste you, genius?” You whispered, your mouth took a bit of his skin to bite. You leave a mark of your teeth on his skin.
The mark looks good on him.
Spencer whines, “Yes, please.”
You unzip his pants, tug the cloth down, and free his legs of it. You were going to do the same for his boxers. But you decided to do something else. His boxer briefs were dark due to the pre-cum, one spot more prominent than others.
You place your lips there, and you suck his pre-cum that has seeped into the fabric. He groans at the sight, his eyes getting closed shut as his chest rises up and down. Spencer was breathing through his mouth. You find his cockhead, and suck harder, the material of the boxer getting darker and wetter because of your saliva.
Spencer moans your name, all loud and unabashed in the living room. With his moan comes a plea, “Don't tease, please.” You don't listen. Your tongue flicks over his clothed slit coaxing out more of his pre-cum. Only when you are satisfied with the mess you created, do you pull back. You snap the man back to reality by pulling the hem of his boxers and letting it snap on his skin. He whimpers, and you wonder briefly if he was as freaky as you. You wondered if he liked pain.
A discovery for another day.
You set him free from the confines of his boxers. His cock springs up, the cockhead hitting his stomach. The cockhead was a dark pink, bordering on a painful red. His cock was begging to cum with the way the veins were bulging, and his slit kept letting out beads of pre-cum. He was long enough to stretch out your cunt perfectly, he was thick enough to roll your eyes back.
He was… to describe this with a single word was impossible. All you knew was that you wanted his cum in your mouth, you wanted his cum painting your pussy walls. You wanted him. You wanted him ruined by you. You don't let a single thought of insecurity creep into your mind.
You distract yourself with his cock instead. You use your hand to squeeze more pre out of him. You enjoy the way the pearly white liquid drips onto your hand. You press a kiss to each of his balls. He gasps, both of his hands in a tight fist. His eyes were closed.
“Look at me, baby,” you whispered, “Look at me as I have my meal, baby.”
You lick all over his cockhead. You don't care if he opened his eyes or not. You were too busy moaning as you tasted him. Salty, and thick, you loved it.
Spencer Reid is now your favorite flavor.
You begin to take more of his cock in your mouth. Stopping halfway through his length because you didn't want to choke. You close your eyes and take a deep breath through your nose before you hollow your mouth. You begin to suck, not giving a fuck about your technique. You're hungry. You're eating him up.
This was as simple as that.
Your tongue runs all over his shaft, and the corners of your lips have saliva and pre-cum oozing out. Making you look like an absolutely pathetic mess. Spencer whimpers as he looks at you, his hand coming down to gently wipe away the mess. Even when his mind was numb with pleasure, he managed to be sweet. You reward his sweetness with a harsh suck causing his hips to thrust forward. The action made you take more of his cock, and you choke.
He tries to pull out but you stop his ministrations with a sharp slap on his thigh. You glare at him despite the fact your view is blurry with tears. Spencer tenses before relaxing. “Sorry,” he groans, “I didn't mean to do that. Feels so good, sweetheart.”
The nickname is a melody to your ears. You begin to bob your head upside down. You blink, letting the tears fall, you see the way his knuckles were turning white from the fists he made. You put your hands over his fists and pry them open. You intertwined his fingers with yours. His nails now dig into your skin, and yours does the same. You both have crescent-shaped marks on each other's hands.
Your nails dig into his skin a bit harder as you slowly take more of his cock down your throat. You take him down to the hilt, your nose pressed into his mound and you breathe in his primal scent. It drives you fucking insane. It reminds you of your sopping wet cunt that is aching to be filled.
Your eyes roll back as you continue. You move a bit and find yourself between one of his legs. You pressed yourself against the shin of his leg. You moan, the vibration of the sound sends jolts of pleasure to the boy. He cums, all thick and hot down your throat without a warning.
You let his cock slip out of your mouth, you couldn't manage to swallow all of his cum. It coats your lower chin, you rest your head on his thigh as you begin to ride his leg like a deprived whore. Your soaked panties weren't much of a textural pleasure against your pussy. But you would take anything you can get.
You wanted to cum. That's it.
Your actions are interrupted by a sharp yank of your hair. You moan from the pain and the pleasure that comes along with it. Your blurry eyes focus on Spencer, looking at you with wide brown eyes. “Come up, darling,” he said, gently, “Let me take care of you now.”
You whimper, hating the way you were interrupted but listen. You find yourself on his lap again, your back pressed to his chest. The brown-haired boy kisses your nape. “You were so good to me,” he praises, “Thank you.”
You wanted to reply, but instead, you let out a soft noise. Your head resting on his shoulder. He pressed a kiss to your temple. “Good girl,” and you nearly cum from the praise. His eyes are curious as he sees your reaction. The man is memorizing your reactions so he can play your body like a fiddle in the future.
You were giving him all the answers.
Good girl indeed.
He unbuttons the blouse you were wearing. It reveals your bra, and your nipples straining against the silk material. Spencer pulls the bra up, freeing your breasts. Spencer hums in satisfaction as he uses both of his hands to knead the soft flesh. You moan as he pinches your nipples, he plays with your breasts effectively.
You were so wet, you could feel your juices had coated your thighs. “Spencer,” you whine, “Do something please.”
He stills, “You want more?” He breathes down your neck, and you shiver as you feel the exhale of air on your skin.
“Yes,” you beg.
“What do you want?” He asked, his hand sprawled over your tummy. He pressed his hand softly, his fingers tapping on your skin in the similar way he tapped the wood at the beginning of the date.
“Anything,” you gasp, “anything you give me, Spence.”
He chuckled, and it was a bit mean to your ears. “And to think you didn't like me. How wrong you have proven me, darling. One of the few to ever do so,” he whispered, his tongue peeking out to lick the shell of your ear. You moan as you feel the wet muscle on your skin.
His hand travels further down your body. His finger snapped the button of your jeans open. He slides down your jeans alongside your panties down to your knees. Exposing your glistening pussy to the cold air. You let out a heavy sigh, your eyes closing as you melt into his touch.
He was looking at your pretty cunt, his fingers pushing your pussy lips aside to see your cute clit and your slit. “Beautiful,” he whispered. And he watched your cunt clench around nothing. He pressed his palm onto your slick sex, he began to slowly soak his palm onto your arousal. The pressure of his hand is delicious.
But you needed to be ravished.
He pulled his hand away before he brought it back to your pussy in the form of a slap. You jolt in his hold as he slaps your pussy, once, twice. The wet sound ringing in your ears as you nearly cum from this.
“You're really wet,” he notes, his fingers swiping up and down your folds. His digits were glistening with your arousal. You don't say anything, feeling your body burning with lust.
His thumb finds your clit, he plays with the bud. Flickering it with his fingers, even going as far as pinching it. He makes the poor bud all swollen and sensitive, you let him do all that, getting closer to your high from the simple yet mind-blowing touches.
“Spencer,” you moan, as you feel his fingers playing around your slit. Teasing you with the hint of going in but never venturing inside of your walls. “Come on,” you whine.
He tuts you, his fingers finding your clit to pinch the bud rather harshly making you see stars. “Don't be impatient,” he said.
His finger finds your entrance again, this time he pushes his middle finger in. The slide is extremely easy and wet. You moan as you let yourself be filled. The single finger pressed deep inside of you, and he twisted the finger making you see white.
“Warm,” he mumbles, “Tight too…” He pressed his ring finger in, and soon he was knuckles deep inside of your pussy. “You can take it,” he whispered, as his other arm was wrapped around your stomach keeping you caged.
“Yes,” you agreed with a loud whine, “I can!”
He begins to slowly fuck his fingers into you. The squelching sounds made because of how slick your pussy was spurring him on. “So wet for me,” he groaned near your ear, as his fingers found your spongy spot.
You gasp he expertly curls his fingers to the spot, his fingers rubbing the soft, yet hard sensitive muscle. You begin to squirm, feeling entirely overwhelmed. His arm tightened around you. His fingers begin to thrust inside you, faster and faster by each second.
You cry out his name. He doesn't stop. He won't stop. “Please, please, please!” You beg, but you don't tell him to stop so he continues. His lips were pressed to your neck, his tongue licking your pulse. “Good girl,” he groaned, as his fingers got soaked in your juices. Your slick walls clenched around his digits like a glove as you feel closer and closer to the edge.
He pushed a third finger in without warning. And it burns, but it burns so good that your eyes roll back. The coil that had gathered in your stomach snaps, and you feel yourself relax as your mind lets go. You don't even realize you're squirting, your cunt spasming around Spencer's fingers.
It feels so, so good.
You feel your eyes getting droopy, you feel yourself completely content and your mind breaking away from reality. You think you hear Spencer softly calling your name out. And you swear you whispered a coherent response.
You feel a pair of lips kissing your forehead.
“Don't worry, I'll take care of you.”
Suffice it to say, that wasn't the only date you and Spencer went on.
#character x reader#x you#x reader#x female reader#fem reader#smut#scenario#oneshot#fanfiction#criminal minds x you#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds smut#cm spencer reid#cm smut#criminal minds spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer x reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader smut#spencer reid x you#spencer x you#dr. spencer reid#smut fanfiction#matthew gray gubler#mgg x reader#matthew gray gubler x reader#mgg fanfiction#mgg smut
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Isn’t it Just So Pretty
Pairing: Peeta Mellark x Reader
Synopsis: you’re no longer sure of how much acting you’re doing when pretending to be in love with Peeta during the games
Masterlist
After hearing the announcement that two victors can go home if they’re from the same district, Peeta was the one thing on your mind. You knew he must be alive since you hadn’t seen his picture in the sky yet. And if he was alive, he must be by a source of water. You rushed to the lake, not caring how much noise you were making, and looked everywhere. Suddenly, something grabbed your ankle.
“Here to finish me off, sweetheart?”
“Peeta!” You exclaimed in surprise, not caring who heard you. You helped dig him out of the mud and moss he had buried himself under before pulling him into a tight hug.
“Oh my God. Peeta. Peeta.” You breathed in relief as you stroked his muddy hair. You heard Peeta sigh happily in your ear and melted into your touch.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” You told him as you cupped his face to look at him.
“You have?” Peeta asked in skeptical surprise.
“Didn’t you hear the announcement? We could both go home.”
“So you came back for me?” A smile tugged at Peeta’s lips.
“Of course I did.” You shrugged like it was obvious. To you, it was. But to Peeta, it was never obvious that someone would take care of him.
“Oh.“ Peeta smiled shyly and nodded his head. “Well, thank you.”
“Of course. Now let’s get you cleaned up.”
You fully pulled Peeta out of the mud and gently dragged him towards the river. Once you were hidden behind some bushes, you assessed his wounds.
“What happened?” You asked once you saw the gash on Peeta’s leg.
“Cato’s sword. He was mad that I tricked him.”
“Tricked him? How?”
“I purposefully led him away from you after your dropped the tracker jacket nest on us. Once he figured it out, he got me.” Peeta explained. You looked at him with great sympathy that before returning your attention to his wound. It was bad, much worse than anything you had yourself. And the fact that it happened because he was trying to protect you made you feel even worse.
“Is it bad?” Peeta asked when you hadn’t said anything for a while.
“No.” You lied. “Does it hurt?”
“No.” He lied back. You looked into his eyes and shook your head a little.
“You’re lying.”
“So are you.” He replied. You felt your face heat in embarrassment and nodded again.
“We need to keep this clean. I’m gonna have to wash your clothes.” You changed the subject.
“Okay.” Peeta agreed. You helped him lean his head back and washed the mud out of his hair until it was blonde again. Once that was clean, you moved on to his clothes. You shyly looked into his eyes and he nodded his head, giving you permission to tug off his shirt. You washed it and left it out to dry on a rock before returning to Peeta. He looked so helpless lying there on the rock you had laid him down on. He looked so vulnerable and gentle, not posing a threat to anyone. He didn’t deserve to be here. No one did, but especially not Peeta. He was a lover and a baker. He shouldn’t be bleeding out on a rock. You knelt down beside Peeta and he looked up at you with his gentle, puppy dog eyes. He was completely at your mercy now and you both knew it.
“Remember, we’re madly in love, so it’s all right to kiss me anytime you feel like it.” Peeta said to break the silence. You felt your breath hitch in your throat from the unexpected sentiment and before you knew it, you were leaning in to kiss his cheek. Peeta’s face heated up under your lips and when you pulled away, he looked just as surprised as you were over what had happened.
“Um, I should probably finish washing your clothes.” You stumbled over your words a little and refused to look Peeta in the eyes. You undid his button and zipper and started to tug his pants down.
“Wait.” He gulped before you could pull his pants over his wound. You stopped and looked into his eyes, feeling the same anxiety he was.
“I’ll go slow, okay?”
“Okay. Please be careful.” He said in a whiny voice. You couldn’t help but smile a little and nodded your head.
“I will. I promise.”
You tugged Peeta’s pants the rest of the way off and got a full view of his wound for the first time. It was much worse than it had looked through the rip in his pants. You felt helpless as you stared at it, knowing there was not much you could do at this point.
“How bad is it?” Peeta asked you. You stared at his wound, unblinking, until you felt tears come to your eyes.
“Sweetheart?” He asked in a soft voice. You finally looked up at him just a tear rolled down your face.
“How about that kiss?” He mouthed, making you burst out laughing. You cupped his face and pulled him into a long kiss to keep him calm.
“It’s not that bad. You’ll be okay. I promise.” You told him once you pulled away.
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“I never do. I’m gonna go wash these. Stay here.”
“I don’t have much choice, but okay. I’ll wait here and keep the lookout.” Peeta replied, making you laugh. You were about to leave with his pants when you noticed the hem of his boxers. They were filthy, caked with mud, and definitely teaming with infection. You knew they had to be washed, but that would leave Peeta with nothing. Peeta followed your gaze and connected the dots.
“You need my boxers, don’t you?” He asked. You avoided eye contact as you slipped off your backpack and handed it to him.
“Here. You can cover yourself with this.”
“I don’t care if you see me.” He chuckled.
“Maybe you can take them off and I’ll just close my eyes?”
“Look, I know it’s awkward, but I can barely move. There’s no way I can get these off by myself.” Peeta admitted. You knew he was right, but you were not prepared to see a naked man for the first time. Peeta quickly remembered the star crossed lovers plot and cleared his throat.
“Plus, it’s not like you’ve never seen me naked before.” He followed up, looking into your eyes to signal you to play along.
“Right.” You quickly nodded. You got Peeta’s boxers off as quickly as you could with as little eye contact as possible and ran away with them once they were off. You washed them and left them out to dry, giving him your jacket to cover himself in the mean time. Once his clothes were dry enough, you carefully dressed him. You then applied leaves to his wound the way Rue had taught you.
“Okay. We’re in good shape. But I want to get you somewhere less open. This is the biggest water source so the Careers could be back any day now.”
“How are we gonna move? I can’t walk.” Peeta reminded you.
“It’s okay. I’ll carry you.” You shrugged. Peeta laughed a little and held up his arms like a toddler. You gently pulled him off the ground and scooped him up so that you could carry him. He was pretty light since he hadn’t been eating and you had gained some muscle while training for the games. You carried Peeta through the woods as quietly as possible.
“I bet all the people in 12 are laughing at us.” Peeta said after a minute, making you laugh.
“Yeah? How come?”
“Because you’re the big strong hero and I’m the damsel in distress that needs to be carried.”
“Who cares what they think? We’re doing what we have to do to survive.” You shrugged and continued walking. Peeta went quiet for a minute as he thought back to the kiss you’d shared a few hours ago. It was real to him, but he didn’t know what it meant for you.
“Right.” He said after a beat of silence. You could tell something was on his mind but decided not to push it. Instead, you carried him to a nearby cave and gently laid him down inside. You let Peeta rest while you covered the entrance of the cave with leaves to keep yourselves hidden. You then returned to Peeta’s side and brushed the hair off his forehead.
“Are you comfortable?”
“As comfortable as I could be in this situation.” Peeta said through a strained laugh.
“Then we should get some sleep.” You suggested.
You pulled your sleeping bag out of your backpack and helped Peeta into it. You climbed in on his good side and cuddled into him.
“This is nice.” Peeta said quietly. “I never thought I’d ever be this close to you.”
You smiled and draped an arm over his torso to pull him in. It didn’t take him long to fall asleep, but you stayed awake all night and kept eyes on the entrance of the cave. You were exhausted by the time he woke up the next morning, but you didn’t let him know that. You put a hand on his forehead and felt that it was slightly cooler than the dah before.
“I’m gonna go get you some water.” You told him and tried to get up.
“Wait.” He caught your hand, making you stop.
“Please don’t leave.” He said in a soft voice. His doe eyes were staring into yours pleadingly and it took all your strength to say no.
“You need water.” You insisted. “I’ll just be right outside.”
“Please don’t go.” Peeta whined, sounding like he might start to cry. You knew he’d been lying by the river for days, bleeding out and knowing he could be killed any minute. Now that he was finally with you, it probably terrified him to be left alone again. You felt sympathetic towards Peeta and leaned in to kiss him again. You let it linger for as long as he needed.
“I’ll be right back.” You whispered once you pulled away.
You left the cave, gathered some water for Peeta, and purified it before heading back to him. When you reached the cave, a parachute was waiting for you outside. You gasped and grabbed it before running inside. He had fallen asleep again in your absence so you bent down to kiss him awake.
“Peeta, Peeta, Peeta. Wake up.” You said as you peppered kissed all over his face until he woke up.
“What? What happened?” Peeta asked through a yawn.
“Look what Haymitch sent you.” You smiled and presented him the parachute.
“Food?” Peeta asked hopefully.
“Uh huh. Soup.” You nodded and got the food ready for him.
“Wow. My first parachute.” Peeta smiled to himself. The parachute wasn’t really sent to Peeta. You had made that up because when you told him Haymitch had sent you a few things, he seemed sad that he hadn’t received anything. You wanted to cheer him up, so you told a little white lie.
“How are you feeling?” You asked as you helped him sit up.
“A little better. I think my fevers breaking.”
“That’s great. I would love to get you to eat something.”
“I’m really not hungry.” Peeta admitted, making you freeze. Not having an appetite despite not eating in days was not a good sign.
“Please? Just a bite?”
“No. If only there was something you could do to persuade me.” Peeta sighed, making you laugh endearingly. You leaned in to kiss Peeta and he met you halfway. He kissed you for as long as you let him before pulling away.
“Suddenly, I’m starving.” Peeta said, making you laugh. You carefully spoon fed him the soup and felt his forehead when you were done.
“Damn it.” You hissed.
“What’s wrong?”
“You’re burning up again. I thought you were getting better.” You started to panic and sat back on your knees to think. Your mother or sister would know exactly what to do here, but you didn’t.
“It’s okay. Maybe I’m just warm from the sleeping bag.” Peeta tried to calm you down.
“Maybe. Let me check your leg.” You checked his leg and just as you suspected, it looked worse.
“Damn it!” You screamed and got off the floor. You went over to the wall of the cave and pressed your forehead against it as you cried in frustration.
“We need medicine. Not soup. You won’t get better without medicine. Why isn’t anyone sending medicine?” You cried and tugged at your hair.
“It’s okay, sweetheart.” Peeta said calmly.
“It’s not okay!” You shouted. “The leaves aren’t working. Why aren’t they working?”
“Maybe the infection is just too deep. It might’ve been a lost cause before you even found me.” Peeta voiced his deepest concern, one that you both shared.
“No. There’s no way you survived this far to get wiped out by an infection. You survived Cato’s blade. I’m not gonna let you die over the infection that came after it.”
Peeta stayed quiet as you paced back and forth and tried to come up with a plan.
“We just need more sponsors. We need them to send us medicine so that you can get better. What can we do to get their attention?” You asked him.
“I think we’ve done everything already.” Peeta said regretfully.
“Then I’ll… I’ll- um. Uh….” You trailed off when no ideas came to mind.
“I don’t know. I don’t know what to do. I can’t fix this. I can’t fix you.” You started to freak out and dropped down to your knees. You buried your face in your hands and felt your entire body give up. You banged your fists on the ground in frustration before letting out a guttural sob.
“It’s okay.” Peeta assured you. “You’ve done as much as you could.”
“But it’s not enough.”
“It’s enough. It’s more than enough.” Peeta replied. He felt helpless as he watched you cry and tried to come up with a way to distract you from the inevitable doom he was facing.
“You know, I remember the first time I saw you.” He said, catching your attention.
“You do?” You sniffled and looked up at him.
“Uh huh. It was the first day of kindergarten. My dad pointed you out and said, “see that girl? I was gonna marry her mother.” He still seemed jaded by it after all those years. I watched you walk into school and ran in after you.”
“Your dad and my mom? Is that true?” You smiled a little and crawled over to him.
“Apparently they dated before she met your father. My dad used to grumble about the coal miner with the golden voice whenever he and my mom would fight.”
“Did that happen a lot?” You asked sympathetically as Peeta reached up to wipe your tears.
“My brothers and I used to try to separate them. He’d hit her. Then he’d hit us. Then we’d be silent for a few days. And then, it was like it never happened.”
“Until it happened again?” You assumed.
“Yeah.” He sighed. “Until it happened again.”
“I’m sorry, Peeta. I didn’t know you had it so bad.” You frowned and laid down on his chest.
“It’s not your fault. You’ve got your own troubles. Don’t worry about mine.” He said as he rubbed his hand up and down your back. You stayed with your head over his heartbeat for a while as you calmed down.
“I’m surprised you turned out the way you are.” You said after a minute.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re so kind. But your home life wasn’t kind you. I wonder where you get it from.”
“I don’t know. Maybe that’s just me.”
“Yeah. Maybe that’s just you.” You smiled and looked up at him. Peeta didn’t look at you, though. He had a far off look in his eyes as if he was thinking of something he couldn’t put to words.
“Maybe we shouldn’t talk about this anymore. It’ll be awkward when you go home.” You said to change the subject.
“I’m not going home.” He laughed softly. There was no self pity in his voice. He wasn’t trying to make you guilty. He genuinely believed that and had already accepted it.
“Peeta.” You said warningly.
“It’s okay. I know it. You know it. Even my parents knew it the day I left. I’ve said goodbye to them. They’re in the past now.” Peeta shrugged. He looked down at you and brushed some hair that had come loose from your braid off your forehead.
“All I see is you now.” He said softly. You stared at him in silence, never being good with words. You had so much you wanted to say to him, but the way he was looking at you made your mind go blank.
“After that first day that my dad pointed you out, I always looked at you. I remember the first day of school when the teacher asked if anyone knew the valley song. And your hand shot straight up. I followed you home that day. And every day after that.” Peeta recalled as he stared into your eyes.
“I didn’t know that.” You smiled softly.
“I used to watch you hunt from the bakery window.” He continued. “You were usually with Gale. But sometimes you’d go alone and I’d wonder what would happen if went outside and asked to go with you.”
“Why? So you could hunt?” You laughed in surprise.
“So I could be with you.” He said simply.
“Peeta.” You smiled guiltily. Peeta looked at you for long time before reaching up to touch your braid. He held it in his hands as if it was solid gold.
“I should’ve told you how I felt before the games. I feel so stupid for waiting until we were on opposing sides of a death match to tell you how much I care about you.”
“We’re not on opposing sides.” You shook your head.
“There’s only one winner.”
“I know. That doesn’t put us on opposing sides.” You told him. You stared into his eyes for a moment and reached out to touch his face.
“Nothing could.” You whispered. No matter how much it hurt him, Peeta sat up so that he could cup your face and kiss you. You kissed him back and wished you could close the curtains and shut the world out from this kiss. Even though the romance meant you would get more sponsors, that didn’t matter to you anymore. You knew the way you were feeling for him wasn’t an act anymore. You felt genuine love and you needed him to know that.
“I can’t lose you.” You pulled away to tell him.
“You won’t. Being here with you like this is enough to make me live through anything.” Peeta said as he rolled your broad between his fingers.
“I wish they weren’t watching. I wish it was just us.” You whispered and felt your eyes begin to water. Peeta looked you up and down and a doubtful look crossed his face.
“Do you?” He asked. He wasn’t fully skeptical, just hesitant in believing you. You nodded your head and Peeta seemed to believe you.
“Then it is just us.” He said simply. You couldn’t help but smile before leaning down to kiss home once more.
“I wish I knew how you felt before the games.” You whispered against his lips.
“It wouldn’t have mattered.”
“Yes it would’ve. We could’ve been like this. But safe.”
“You wouldn’t have liked me back. I had nothing to offer you. Nothing you needed, any way. You’re only thinking you would’ve liked me back because I don’t have any competition here.” Peeta said, again with no self pity on his voice. These were just things he knew to be true. And maybe they once were. But as you stared into his eyes now, you knew it wasn’t the truth anymore. You knew you loved him.
“You don’t have any competition anywhere.” You said softly.
“You’re just saying that.” He said with a disbelieving roll of his eyes.
“I’m not.” You insisted. You turned around to look at the camera you knew was behind you before leaning down to whisper in Peeta’s ear.
“I love you.”
When you pulled away, Peeta was watching your face very carefully. He was trying to see if you were just deceiving the cameras or actually professing your love for him. He looked so hopeful that he might cry if it turned out to be the former.
“Real or not real?” He asked, making you smile.
“Real.” You assured him. Peeta let his guard down and finally broke into the smile he’d been holding in. He tilted his head up so that you’d kiss him but pulled away a little just before your lips could touch.
“Promise?” He whispered.
“Promise.” You replied before pressing your lips to his.
#peeta mellark fluff#peeta mellark x reader#peeta mellark fanfiction#peeta mellark angst#peeta mellark x you#peeta mellark fanfic#peeta my beloved#peeta x reader#thg peeta
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I love Cat Alastor!! would you do one where Alastor and The cat are forced to spend time together after being left alone when Reader has to do errands.
Supply Run
Platonic Cat Alastor x Reader Ft Alastor x Reader
TW:Alastor not liking Cat Alastor.
A/N: YES BIG BRAIN ANON- BIG BRAIN!! Also I hope you like it, it got chaotic.
You picked up Catastor for what felt like the 30th time today as you tried to leave to go get some errands done. It’s not that you didn’t want to leave him in the hotel but last time he went with you he ate three random sinners who looked at you for too long. Loud radio static echoed through the halls as you walked back to your room, Catastor tucked in your arms as he tried to swat your hands away. He knew what you were doing and he hated it as much as you did.
Rounding the hallway and entering your room, you plopped the cat onto your bed. “Listen here, I know you want to come with me but you can’t..please just stay here? I’ll be back before you know it.” You crouched down, getting down onto his eye level causing him to growl before carefully pawing at your nose in protest before he jumped off the bed and walked to the door, you sighed and sat down. You really had to get those errands done today. As you listened to the radio playing in the background an idea popped into your head, your husband wasn’t as busy as he usually was. He could watch over this little cat.
You picked Catastor up and exited your room, walking to where you knew you would find your husband. “Alastor~ My darling buck~” You called out entering the foyer watching as he looked up at you, his ears swiveling towards your voice. “Yes, Dear?~” He hummed watching you walk over, placing your little bodyguard onto his lap as loud static erupted throughout the foyer making his smile tighten. “Dearest..why are you putting your..bodyguard on my lap?” He asked, voice strained as he held his arms up glaring down at his replacement. You leaned down placing a gentle kiss to your husband's cheek as you hummed, “I need to get errands done before the day ends. Watch him for me, Al?” You said pouting as he sent you a half hearted glare, “Please?” You whined causing him to sigh.
“Fine, only for you I suppose.” He growled out as you smiled at him. “I’ll pay you back, Dear.” You whispered watching his ears twitch angrily before swiftly making your exit. Alastor looked down at the cat in his lap. “Don’t you try a single thing.” He snarled out his eyes flickering to radio dials as the cat hissed at him in return.
~~~
It had been 25 minutes since you were gone and now Alastor was using his tentacles to hold up the cat as Nifty ran around cleaning up the mess the cat had made. “You are a little nuisance.” He snarled out, jacket ripped (even more than it was) as his eyes twitched. How much longer are you going to be out? The cat hissed and snarled its own smaller tentacles appearing out of its back, trying to swipe at his, “I don’t see what my darling sees in you.” He hissed out holding the cat higher as punishment, “Now I must go see my tailor once more since you couldn’t keep your little claws off of it.”
This was going to be a long day for him.
~~~
An hour. You were gone for an hour. So it surprised you to see your husband sitting on the couch, reading a book, his jacket almost torn to bits as Catastor was taped to the wall above his head. You didn’t say anything seeing as your husband was already on the verge of ripping someone’s head off. You simply walked over and leaned down in front of him, quickly catching his gaze. Everyone had scurried away from the foyer to not incur Alastor’s wrath if he chose to let it loose, which he would have no doubt about it. He lifted his head as you leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, a silent apology to help calm his nerves and one he happily took for now.
Pulling away to look at the damage done to his beloved jacket. “I’ll take it to the tailor for you,” You hummed watching as his ears seemingly relaxed despite how his smile seemed even more thin and his nose scrunched up, “As payback, dear.” You finished off watching him silently nod to your suggestion before he had moved over so you could sit next to him. You looked up to Catastor to see him glaring at your husband but also calming down enough to seemingly fall asleep near your presence. He could get out if he needed.
New rule: Don’t leave them together.
#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel imagine#gn reader#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor x reader#alastor x you#alastor x gn!reader#cursed cat alastor
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★ DO I WANNA KNOW? | JB22
Scenario: in which a series of unexpected events, starting with being stuck in the same hotel room with a single bed, takes teammates yn ln and jenson button from major rivals to lovers.
Pairing: jenson button x fem!reader
A/N: no one asked for this but LAWD I LOVE JENSON BUTTON. i had to do something about it 😔 shoutout to @renarots for supplying memes and 4 am brain rot that contributed to the making of this fic and most of my other ones too
NOTE: yn and jenson drive for mercedes (i had to do this for my own sanity)
racing_news
liked by buttonnation, sebrrari, and 12,432 others
racing_news jenson button responds to questions about his relationship with teammate yn ln following this weekends rumors.
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formulawrld idec about the rumors jenson looks so fine bro
formulavettel i bet seb knows all the tea about them. sebastian please spill
webbersebberf1 🤨 surely they could have just gotten another room? they have the money for it. idk, me thinks they’re dating and trying to keep it secret
⤷ ferrarilvr LITERALLY. you genuinely cannot convince me that they aren’t dating after this
⤷ shumione you genuinely thing they’re together even with how much they clearly don’t like each other?
⤷ ferrarilvr 🤷🏻♀️ things change and honestly i feel like they’ve had feelings for each other and just didn’t want to admit it
It had been three months since the “hotel incident”. Finally, you texted him. You weren’t sure what to expect from him, but you were ultimately relieved by his response, and didn’t wast a single moment on making your way to him.
With each step you take, a small splash sounds beneath your feet. Rain patters on the ground, and you pull your jacket closed in an attempt to shield yourself from the cold gust of wind that blows through the night. Each stride is powerful and determined - the truth is, you like Jenson. What once was a deep disdain for the man has somehow formed into a blossoming adoration for him. Miscommunications and mistakes lead you down the wrong path with him, but ever since the night of the “hotel incident” — as you, Jenson, and your team call it — you haven’t been able to see him in a bad light.
“Look, i’m sorry,” Jenson says, his expression softer than it had ever been towards you. You were almost offended, thinking he was about to try and make you feel bad, but that wasn’t the case. “You’re more than welcome to go - actually, i’ll pay for your hotel room if you want to leave, but if you’re choosing to stay, i’ll give you your space.” It was unlike him, at least, the him that you knew. He seemed remorseful and genuine, like you and him were anything but rivals. It made your heart beat just a little faster in your chest, and you couldn’t deny how strangely right it felt to be in the same bed with him. Even sharing the room was almost natural.
You turned away from each other to change, but both of you were guilty of peeking over your shoulder. Your eyes lingered for longer than you’d ever admit, but the same went for him. Neither of you could muster the courage to say anything, to address the tension between you both, and despite what should have been an awkward atmosphere, you both found yourselves comfortable in each others presence, even with the weight of your forbidden thoughts.
Not much happened after that, truthfully. Things did change though. Suddenly, his presence didn’t irk you, and you could never get on his nerves. You worked together more willingly, almost volunteered, and through those minor changes, you both came to realize how wrong you’d been about the other. Sure, Jenson had his moments, but he was sweet, a genuine and polite guy. You weren’t entitled the way Jenson thought - in fact, you were humble, kind…and how could he ever not see just how beautiful you are?
He doesn’t know the answer to that, but now, knowing that you’re moments away, he finds himself anxious. In a good way. He’s excited to see you, and he laughs to himself about how ironic that is given how he used to dread seeing you. A knock on his door draws him back to reality, and he knows it’s you. Outside of the hotel room, you wait impatiently, and breathe a sigh of relief when he finally opens the door. Instanly, like an instinct, you step forward and wrap your arms around him, nuzzling into his warmth. His reaction is just as instinctive, and he wraps his arms around you, guiding you into the privacy of his room.
For the first time, you talked. Not yelled, not argued, just spoke to one another. It was a completely different experience for the two of you, one that you never thought would come of your relationship, but it came to you naturally. The warm touch of his hand holding yours, the somehow assuring and slightly intimidating way he looked at you as you spoke, the way he didn’t just listen to you, he heard you. And, you did the same for him. Though he didn’t have much to say, you listened and heard, and soon, you felt as though you’d only just met him, yet known him for years. Not the rival Jenson, but a Jenson you could get used to, one that you didn’t back away from when he leaned in.
It was a small, sealing kiss that he placed on your lips. One to really ensure that all of this was happening, that things were changing between the both of you, and you both accepted it, with a weight lifting off of your shoulders.
mercedesamgf1
liked by the.ynln, jensonbutton, and 265,672 others
mercedesamgf1 last time in Abu Dhabi…
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hereforbutton okay but are jenson and yn dating? PLEASE TELL US
formulaobsessed ARE YOUR DRIVERS DATING? YES OR NO?
⤷ mercedesamgf1 🤭
⤷ hereforbutton okay so what the fuck does that mean
formulayn we do NOT care about jenson rn where is my wife
mercamgfan maybe this time don’t prioritize the inferior driver 🙏🏻 yn deserves her wdc
hereforyn i’m so scared that this race is gonna send yn and jenson back into their rival arc
⤷ jensonbuttonlvr NO WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT. i cant handle them going back to rivals now
⤷ ynsgirlie i know. now that we have them being nice, i can’t imagine going back to what they used to be
mercedesamgf1
liked by the.ynln, jensonbutton, nicorosberg, and 346,789 others
mercedesamgf1 OUR WORLD CHAMPION ❤️ an exceptional performance from yn today, and a well deserved win. thank you for another amazing year, @/the.ynln
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the.ynln i’m gonna cry 💔 thank you guys so much.
formulayn THATS MY FUCKING WIFE IM SO PROUD OF HER
buttonynamg MY BABIES P1-P2 IN WDC IM SO PROUD RIGHT NOW
formulaobssesed who’s here after the post race interview? 🤭
⤷ markwebba I KNEW THEY WERE GONNA FALL IN LOVE
⤷ jensonsbutton bro jenson was heart eyes for her in the whole interview and the way he kissed her cheek when she started talking about their relationship 💔 he was so gentle
⤷ hereforbutton what got me was her getting emotional about the win and him hugging her like :( i was always hoping they’d start getting along but i did not expect them to become like this
🏷️: general taglist | @renarots @jsjcue @illicitverstappen @lovstappen @minkyungseokie @treehouse-mouse
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omg, i giggle like a schoolgirl whenever i read your abo hcs🤭
can i have bestfriend! mikey who comes over to the reader’s house (not realizing she’s in heat) and ends up mating & claiming her?
ty for all the juicy fics btw 😋
TOKYO REVENGERS OMEGAVERSE ☆
୨୧ alpha! mikey x omega! reader
— mikey claiming omega! reader
my masterlist : ☆
cw: sex, cockwarming, breeding kink
(it's only my third time writing full smut like this, so I hope it's not too bad!!)
you knew mikey since primary school, when innocent friendships bloomed easily. none of you knew your second gender yet, and you actually never gave it too much thought.
you grew up pretty close, the proximity of your houses making it easier for you to bond. mikey was carefree and seemed always sure of himself, these traits of his kept your future omega-self nearby.
being with him felt great. he was a kind friend despite his overly direct behaviour, he always got your back whenever school kids were being mean to you.
you guys were with each other through every stages of life. when you turned out an omega, mikey was quick to drive away students who wanted to have a taste of their freshly presented schoolmate. he was protective, never going overboard either.
it was safe to say you thought you guys would remain in a special relationship all your life. and mikey thought so too. for years, he had never seen you as something more than a friend, qualifying the protective position he took as nothing more than an amicable worry.
but lately, something had begun to shift within mikey. a subtle change that he quite couldn't put his finger on. at first, he brushed it off as nothing more than a passing phase, but days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months and he soon began to realise that his feelings for you were changing in ways he had yet to understand.
it started with small things — the way his heart skipped a bit whenever you laughed, the way his gaze lingered longer than before when you smiled - has your smile always been this bright ? he slowly came to crave your scent, unconsciously leaning towards you and watching the way your soft lips would move each time you talked.
mikey felt a pull at his chest just by thinking of his dear friend with someone else. will they be able to treat you right, and keep you safe ? mikey was just worried. he wanted to hear your voice, to hear your secrets and make sure you were not seeing anyone.
it was a week off, so mikey called you. it wasn't unusual for you to talk over the phone, even if you had a house at a five minutes walk away from the other.
but you didn't pick up your phone. and mikey noted how uncommon it was, you always did. he tried a second time and when he was denied again, he just gave up, giving you some time. upon seeing his missed calls, you'll call him back.
but you didn't, and not even a text was sent his way. he tried multiple times after a while and grew worried. you never were this silent online, not answering him for a whole day was strange, to say the least.
so he went out, took a few brownies emma cooked with him to give him a reason to come over, and crossed the street to your home.
he didn't bother making his arrival announced ; none of you ever bothered for such formalities.
clenching the doorknob, he frowned at how it actually opened, half expecting it to be locked. still, he came in, quietly making his way into your house. it was silent and dark, with the windows all wide opened, a cold breeze hitting his skin.
confused at first, mikey softly called out your name, putting the snacks on the kitchen table and getting rid of his jacket, leaving him in his plain white tshirt. "y/n ? are you in there ?"
the absence of response pushed him to keep going, dangerously approaching your room. he stopped mid way, when a few noises came out from the end of the hallway. "y/n ? is that you, everything fine?"
as he stood right behind the door, mikey could now decipher the said noises. soft desperate cries, erratic breaths and an intoxicating smell embalming the air, seemingly seeping from every hole under your door.
mikey took a deep breath, connecting the dots and cursing himself for coming this far to you —you were in heat. the omega he grew obsessed with, was right in front of him, the wall, the only thing keeping him away from his growing urge to just burst in.
"m-mikey ? is it you ?" despite your weakened state, your friend was close enough for you to recognize a foreign smell inside your house. mikey probably didn't even notice his own pheromones started to spread, instinctively reacting to your erotic ones. fuck you smelled so good.
"I'm sorry I'll leave, I didn't know you were in heat". as overwhelming as his need to claim you was, mikey didn't want to risk your trust.
"n-no please mikey stay!" you were in a haze, too high off of your wish to to be taken to actually have any clear thoughts. and mikey knew that, but he didn't want to take advantage of you.
"I just came here to make sure you were doing fine, and give you some snacks emma made. I'll leave and lock your door, this isn't safe in your state. beside, I don't want you to regret anything, you're not thinking straight" it took a great reasoning for him to actually ignore his instincts screaming at him to just barge into your room and take you right here. breeding you until you're full of cum and exhausted to the point you can't walk straight. dirty thoughts are flooding his mind, the whole situation sending blood to his cock.
"no please, I know I won't ! I'm still clear enough to know what I want, they barely just started today. please mikey". pleas fell out from your mouth. and too overwhelmed by the consuming need for release, you can't even get up to pull him to your nest.
"or is it that you don't want to do it with me ?" mikey sighs heavily, body all tensed up. this sent a growl down his throat, you only whined in response, scared at the prospect of the alpha you desire not wanting to mate with me.
but, of course he does, that's the only thing he can think about right now. and whenever his own ruts hit, he's ashamed to admit your body is the image he pictures each time.
"please mikey, I just really need you right now. I wouldn't do it with anyone else if not you" you begged once more, voice growing even more desperate. a few salty tears rolled down your face at the frustration mikey was submitting you to.
and just like that, mikey was right in front of you. he took in your whole form, shaking and sensitive, desperately awaiting a touch.
you wore only your underwear, the heated room feeling too much. despite your opened windows, some hair stucked to your damp forehead, and the blankets were since then long gone, thrown out of your nest.
you looked heavenly in mikey's eyes. actually, you always looked perfect, not a day passed without mikey admiring your dreamy features secretly. but today particularly, something seemed different.
it was the way your eyes slowly looked up at him, lust and envy clouding your vision, and the way your body seemed to immediately attract him to you, legs spreading as if they had a mind of their own, your heartbeats quickening and scent getting progressively sweeter to tempt him even more.
there was no turning back. after witnessing such a delightful scene, mikey would never be able to turn around, close the door and act like nothing happened. you had him right where you wanted and he was more than willing to comply to your wishes now.
"please mikey, it hurts"
by now, mikey's instincts had fully taken over and an ardent desire burned inside of him, praying him to just take care of the delicate omega laying in front him.
"yes I know baby, and you did really great on your own, waiting for me to find you, all spread out and pretty". you reached out for him instantly when mikey came to join you, you emitted a satisfied purr, happy to finally have the alpha you longed for give in to your demands.
he didn't wait long before starting a short foreplay, kissing, licking and sucking every inch of your skin, leaving tiny bite marks all along your neck, insisting on your scent gland.
he brought his fingers to your entrance while continuing his assault on your neck and collarbone. he massaged it slowly, observing your reactions to know exactly where it felt good. he kept going for a few minutes before stopping, throwing away your bra and finally pushing aside your panty, giving more access to his hands.
and you felt one finger entering you, his mouth now sealed to your nipple. his tongue rolled against it, lapping expertly while drinking in your moans of pleasure. he kept bullying your heterogeneous zones, in hope to hear more of you, to see you completely break under him, just like he always wanted to see you.
"that's it baby, moan for me, let me hear your pretty voice"
and moan you did, especially with how three of his fingers were now sliding in and out of you with a sweet speed you couldn't get enough of. you had tears building up in your eyes and you watched as a string of saliva connected mikey's mouth to yours. his finger felt so great, and his mouth, now attached to your lips, turned you absolutely breathless. but still, it wasn't enough, you needed more.
"please mikey. I want you in me, please I want more" the friction of mikey's fingers felt good, but you were too far into your heat to actually need foreplay. the slick you produced was enough for mikey to just fuck you without any prep.
"I know I know baby, I'll make you feel so good don't worry" he stopped his movements, your fluids coating his fingers. he licked them, looking at your droopy eyelids.
you waited patiently for mikey to undress himself, throwing both his tshirt and your panty aside, before finally getting rid of his bottom. you watched eagerly his length revealing itself to you, a sight which only made you drool. and you could only wait for mikey to give you what you wished for, completely at his mercy.
you were now fully naked, squirming in front of mikey. he contemplated you again, your honeyed scent driving him crazy by the minute, and the way your pulsating core seemed to call out to him was very much a sight mikey could get used to if you let him.
"I've wanted this for so long, God you're so beautiful"
he let his hands travel all around your body, kissing you passionately while whispering praises of how pretty you looked.
"that's it baby, lay nice and still for me. you're doing so good". and you did, waiting expectantly, hungry for his touch and affection. you couldn't care less about your dignity, it just felt great to want him, obey him, beg him. whatever he had to offer your body, you would accept it with a smile on your face.
and with all his restraint, mikey entered you in one painfully slow thrust. you moaned louder, eyes shutting by themselves with the intrusion, and "yes, yes, yes" flowed out from your lips.
he didn't let you any time to adjust, he knew you didn't need any, and immediately started rocking his hips. he let out low growls of pleasure, mouth right next to your ear. you drank them in, feeling pleasure building up inside not only from the relentless pace he was going at, but the satisfaction that your omega had succeeded in making her alpha feel good too.
you were desperate for validation and release, clawing at his back with weak hands, legs spread wide open for your alpha. your tits bounced with each slap and mikey's hips connected with yours in a excruciatingly delightful manner.
with the way your brain was clouded with pleasure, you could only chant his name. if only you knew what your desirous pleas did to him.. knowing you'd let him to anything to you was a major turn on that kept mikey yearning for more.
"you're doing perfect, that feels incredible baby". reassuring you, he maintained his pace, capturing your mouth for a heated kiss before sucking on your skin, whishing for it to leave deep red marks.
fuck, mikey wanted to mark you, claim you and breed you in every way possible. he didn't think he would be satisfied with just one round now that he finally had you under him. he was going to take such good care of his precious omega, fucking you dumb until you can't think of anything else but him.
he felt you clenching around him, your tight hole pushing him closer to the edge. "just like that, good girl, you're gonna make me cum". and you so wished for him to cum inside you, filling you up to the brim with the seeds you desperately wanted.
slapping thighs, wet noises and erratic breaths were the only thing you could here. and the pleasure mikey granted you, the way his strong scent enveloped you and how his fingers found your clit again to help you chase your release made you see stars. not a single thought could make their way into your brain, all you could think about was the heavenly sensations you were experiencing right now and mikey's strong chest on top of you.
you begged for him as soon as you felt it come closer, scratching his back, mouth wide opened and tongue lolled out. your eyes rolled to the back of your skull and you thanked mikey for giving you this much pleasure. "that's right baby, take all of it". his thrusts were getting sloppier with each passing second, announcing your coming climax.
you both came at the same time, with a high pitched moan for you and a deep growl for mikey, which always managed to send shivers down your spine. you felt his cum flow inside of you, painting your insides with a white fluid.
and you took it all, just like he told you, hoping for more praises but too high off of his cock to do anything else. he kissed your temple, looking into your exhausted eyes while slowly going in and out of you. you both tried to catch your breath after bliss took over you.
"you did so good for me angel, such a perfect omega". you chirped happily in response, content about his satisfaction with you. you couldn't talk, heat turned you into a submissive mess.
you let him cuddle you from behind, cockwarming him to make sure you didn't spill any drops of cum, and you stayed put for him to do anything. he kissed your shoulder softly, whispering about how good and obedient you were.
he liked the calming feeling of his cock plugging your wet pussy, taking you like this felt so good and heightened his already possessive thoughts about you.
you were so perfect, you took your alpha so well and now you're staying still for him to pour his cum into you. he wanted to keep you all to himself, fuck you throughout all your heats and never let you go after someone else. the claim he put on you wasn't just out of sexual interest, but genuine love he had for you. and now that he had fucked you, it felt like everything was falling into place, his sense of purpose reaffirmed.
he had you, his lovely and delicate omega, waiting for her alpha to wreck her and turn her into a sobbing mess.
he looked forward to the rest of the day.
"now were not finished baby, we'll need a lot more if we want to go through your heat smoothly, right?"
#cannelle★#omegaverse tokyo revengers#tokyo revengers a/b/o#a/b/o tokyo revengers#alpha tokyo revengers#hybrid tokyo revengers#tokyo revengers headcanons#tokyo revengers hybrid#tokyo revengers omegaverse#tokyo revengers x reader#tokyo revengers imagines#tokyo revengers headcanon#tokyorev x reader#mikey fluff#mikey imagines#smut mikey#mikey x reader#alpha mikey#alpha!mikey#anime omegaverse#omega!reader#omegaverse anime#tokyorevengers headcanons#tokyo rev x reader#yandere tokyorevengers#omegaverse tokyo revengers headcanons#mikey x you#mikey omegaverse#mikey abo#omegaverse smut
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That's My Man
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~500
Warnings: fluff
Summary: Spencer gets a haircut and you have a most pleasant reaction to it.
Square Filled: holidays (2023) for @cmbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
x
It’s been an entire month since you’ve seen your boyfriend but he’s back now. He spent Christmas and New Years with his mother back in Las Vegas while you stayed with your family in Virginia. You two are still so new that you haven’t had the chance to meet his family, and you weren't going to let your first meeting be the holidays.
If and when you’re going to do it, you want to do it right.
While the holidays might be over, the snow is still coming down in waves, making this a white winter. Snow is probably your favorite kind of weather because you get to create angels and snowmen and forts and anything else you want. You want to do that and go ice skating with Spencer tomorrow when the sun is out but for right now, you’re going to have a movie marathon.
He’s staying over for the entire weekend and you can’t be more excited than you are right now.
“Y/N?” Spencer’s voice comes from the front hallway. The door opens to face a solid wall fifteen feet from the door. To the left is the kitchen and to the right is the living room. “I’m here!”
You gave him a key pretty early on because you already knew he was the man you were going to spend the rest of your life with. It’s one of those things where you just know. You love him so much and you don’t want to waste any time with him.
“In here!” you call from the right. Spencer shrugs off his jacket and hangs it on the hook in front of him before closing and locking the door. He walks into the living room and you turn to greet him when a confused frown sits on your face. “Why are you wearing a beanie?”
Spencer hates hats. He doesn’t like the feel of them or how he looks in them. Why is he wearing a beanie? He hasn’t all winter.
“I don’t know. I liked how it looked on me.”
“Mmhmm.” You get up and walk over to him. “Now what’s the real reason?” He looks shy as if he’s embarrassed to tell you. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, everything is fine. Just… don’t laugh, okay?”
“Okay.”
He takes off his beanie and your jaw practically drops to the floor. He messes with his hair to make it look good but you’re fixed on that the fact that he got a haircut. He doesn't have long curly hair anymore. It’s short and slightly spiked. There are longer pieces in the front but he’s cut it all off.
God fucking damn. He looks so goddamn fine.
“Please say something,” he sighs, unable to take the silence anymore.
“Oh, my God.” He lowers his head knowing you must hate it. “Look at my man!” He snaps his head up as a slight blush creeps up his neck. “Damn, you look so good! Is that Spencer Reid? My gorgeous man?”
“Okay, stop,” he smiles, blushing profusely. You jump into his arms and kiss his face all over, and he tips his head back and laughs. “Okay, okay, okay!”
You pull away with a loving smile and keep your arms wrapped around his neck.
“You look very handsome.”
“Thank you,” he smiles.
Choosing you has got to be the best thing he could have ever done for himself.
x
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#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fiction#spencer reid fan fiction#spencer reid fan fic#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fluff#cm#cm fic#cm fanfiction#cm fanfic#cm fluff
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— two people, one umbrella ∘˚˳° headcanons
the hoO boys when starts to rain and there's just one umbrella. ft. apollo
who's here: frank zhang, jason grace, leo valdez, percy jackson and apollo
warnings: none
a/n: its friday, so headcanons arrives here. kisses for y'all. enjoy.
— frank *.✧
This guy doesn't hesitate for a second, he's got you covered with the umbrella, most (if not all) of it.
"I don't want you getting sick," he says while holding the umbrella.
He's so tall he doesn't need to raise it any higher than necessary, and you keep pushing it toward the center so each of you gets at least a little covered.
He might pretend he's covered, but his shoulder is getting terribly soaked.
He's thinking about the shape-shift, imagining what it would be like if you had a canary on your shoulder while walking in the dry, safe rain.
But in the end, he obeys you. He takes your hand and tries to cover both of you (because he thought he might get sick, then you'd want to help him, and he doesn't want to bother you).
— jason *.✧
Once the umbrella is fully open, he figures out the best way for both of you to be covered, always putting you first in his mind.
He moves you in front of him, but he can see you might trip.
He considers just covering you, but he knows you'd both end up fighting and getting wet anyway.
So, he wraps his arm around your waist to pull you closer. Now, you're both under the umbrella, dry.
He smiles at you and takes advantage of the closeness to kiss your cheek and your knuckles.
“let me, my love” he says soflty if you try to help him with the umbrella.
He's the type to hold your hand and tuck it into his jacket to keep you warm.
Another thing he could do is control the air so the umbrella holds itself up and you can walk together even more comfortably.
— leo *.✧
"I already anticipated that!" he exclaimed when he saw that both of you weren't completely covered by the umbrella he was carrying and smiled eagerly at you.
He presses a button on the umbrella's handle and it expands even more, Hurray! You're both covered.
But...
As you continue walking on the sidewalk, Leo looks at other couples in similar positions, only much closer, cuddling and lovingly playing around, while the umbrella with the improvements he invented works so well that you even walk a bit away from him.
Oh no... :(
He wants to do those cheesy things with you too, and he plays the fool.
If a child of Hephaestus can fix something, they can also break it, so he presses the button too hard, for breaking it. The extra space is gone.
"What happened?" you ask confused, some drops start to wet your hair, and Leo smiles seeing how beautiful the dew looks on you,
he just shrugs "I don't know, I guess it doesn't work anymore" he says uninterestedly, and he pulls you to him impatiently,
definitely using some of his warmth so you don't get cold.
He adjusts himself, hugs you, and you walk together.
— percy *.✧
He literally gives a fuck if it rains or not, so the problem is, he never carries an umbrella.
But that's because he can control his waterproofing. If Percy Jackson doesn't want to get wet, he won't, but you're not him.
"Don't worry, babe," he says with a confident smile as you cover yourself with your hand from the increasingly heavy rain.
He bites his lips and looks above you, now the rain avoids you both, and you're no longer getting wet.
He winks at you, and you hug him sideways. Let the mist take care of what others see, and he leans in for a kiss. You give it to him.
suddenly feeling the drops hitting your hair again. For a few seconds, neither of you cares, and he hugs you, prolonging the kiss.
A kiss in the rain.
When the water trickles down your noses and you can taste some of those drops, you break apart with a giggle.
"Oops," he says, and he focuses again to keep you both rain-free.
Though you run to get home as soon as possible because for Percy, it's hard not to want to stop and kiss and cuddle you.
— apollo *.✧
He's a god, and the god of the Sun. He could literally make a few calls to get rid of that silly rain bothering his beloved.
But oh no, Apollo lives for the drama, for love, it's for the feelings he exist, so he conjures up an umbrella and covers you.
Apollo will definitely sing "Singing in the Rain" while dragging you along and giving you gentle spins.
For him, it's such a mundane moment, but because he's with you, he wants to turn it into the greatest musical ever told, because it's for the two of you and for him, it's better.
He takes your hand and swings it with great humor.
He's literally a sun walking on the streets full of people grumpy because of the bad weather and a gray, cloudy landscape.
When he sees you smile and chuckle, his spirit overflows with joy, and unintentionally, the sun appears among those clouds, and the rainbow makes a nice trio in the sky.
He gives you a peck on the lips when you raise your eyebrows at his mischief.
"I can't help it," he says with a smile and links your arm with his to continue the walk.
*.✧
#pjo hoo toa#heroes of olympus#percy jackson#leo valdez#frank zhang#jason grace#leo valdez x you#leo valdez x reader#leo valdez x y/n#percy jackson x y/n#percy jackson x you#percy jackson x reader#jason grace x y/n#jason grace x you#jason grace x reader#frank zhang x y/n#frank zhang x you#frank zhang x reader#pjo#percy jackon and the olympians
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