#i love his face i love how i did his face
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but daddy i love him [guilty as sin part two] | charles leclerc social media au
pairing: charles leclerc x fem sainz!reader
when an unstoppable force (the sainz men when they feel aggrieved) meets an immovable object (charles and y/n)
MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
carlossainz55
liked by landonorris, marcmarquez93 and 783,409 others
carlossainz55: never forget where you came from
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user100: insert cricket noises here
user101: who on your PR team said this was a good idea?
user102: they need to be fired, sorry not sorry
landonorris: i love your dad (tell him to stop beating me at golf)
carlossainz55: if he never lets me win he's definitely never letting you win
landonorris: so unfair i thought i was the third sainz sibling :(
carlossainz55: i'm an only child
landonorris: oh-
user103: i need this man to choke i'm being so serious rn
user104: that's so unbelievably fucked
user105: the fact his dad is probably co-signing this shit is insane that's YOUR DAUGHTER
user106: also someone give lando a lil slap around he's on the wrong side of history on this one
yourusername: scandal does funny things to pride
carlossainz55: if the scandal is betraying your family that's all you
yourusername: if we're talking about betrayal then that's your specialist subject mr. i've cheated on every girl i've ever been with - and while we're on the topic of betrayal, yes i was the one who told them
carlossainz55: i've never cheated why are you stooping to lies?
yourusername: you did it right in front of my face when i was a part of this family
carlossainz55: so you've always been comfortable going behind my back
yourusername: that's the thing, when you're treated like you don't exist by your family you learn that blood is not thicker than water
carlossainz55: i can't wait for charles to cheat on you
yourusername: btw i already called marca, they know any of those allegations from you or dad are false - good luck!
user10: obvs i know they should be doing this in private but MORE DRAMA FOR ME BABY LETS KEEP THIS GOING
user107: thank you for the validation y/n i KNEW THE SHIT STIRRING COMING FROM THAT PAPER WAS THE SAINZ CAMP
user108: and they've got the nerve to be talking about stooping - the call is coming from inside the house
maxverstappen1: ugly twins
carlossainz55: really?
maxverstappen1: i said what i said and i mean what i said
carlossainz55: i would say she's not going to fuck you bro but you really never know with her
maxverstappen1: she would never, homewrecking is a trait only the male sainzs seem to have
user109: OOP
user110: max is a real lestappen queen fighting the battles he knows charles can't
yourusername
liked by pierregasly, maxverstappen1 and 893,405 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
yourusername: if you know within one glimpse, its legendary
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user114: i love how she goes from fighting her brother in one comment section to just showing off her hot bf
user115: tbf charles does have a face you'd go to war for so i get her
user116: i'd abandon my family for that face
yourusername: finally someone who fucking gets it
charles_leclerc: you made me believe in love at first sight
yourusername: awwwwww you're such a sweet talker the REAL smooth operator
pierregasly: i can verify it was love at first sight cause the man did not SHUT THE FUCK UP about you well... ever
charles_leclerc: is it a crime to love my girlfriend?
pierregasly: apparently!
yourusername: he's too cute to go to jail :(
charles_leclerc: they'd ruin me
yourusername: that's my job 🤨
pierregasly: you keep that to yourselves
user117: does this girl need to shade carlos on every single fucking post... yeah we get it he's the only reason you're relevant but god you reek of desperation
oscarpiastri: is this carlos' burner account?
user118: are the grid just sat around waiting to be tagged in to the fight against carlos?
oscarpiastri: what's he going to do? crash into me? he does that every weekend anyway
user119: uh oh carlos oscar is finally fighting back off track what are you going to do
user120: don't worry i'm sure he'll post a selfie with lando and try the whole carlando shtick to get some more PR points
maxverstappen1: oh this was not the shit slinging post i was hoping for
yourusername: something tells me you're having way too much fun with this
maxverstappen1: yeah you might have been abandoned by your family but have YOU considered that this is letting me express all my mean girl energy off track so i am level-headed on track
maxverstappen1: actually i don't even think i'm being mean tbf
yourusername: i'm glad my suffering could be your therapy
carlossainz55: BOO HOO you're not suffering ... it's something called the consequences of your actions (read: actions being a snakey slut)
yourusername: bro over here acting like i committed fratricide
maxverstappen1: TAP ME IN
maxverstappen1: not this man talking about the consequences of actions. kids, here's a little life lesson: if you spend all your time at your current job talking about how you have a much better job waiting for you and how you're too big for this job and plant stories about your co-workers, you can't be surprised that that same job doesn't want to keep you
carlossainz55: i am better than charles
yourusername: lying is a sin
maxverstappen1: and you're going straight to hell
user121: you guys might be mourning the loss of charlos (whatever the fuck that is) but i'm celebrating the absolute shit ton of LESTAPPEN we're getting
user122: max was like oh my bff is dating charles here's my excuse to be nice about him again
user123: if we're being real here the biggest crime of this whole situation is the fact that charles can't really dig the knife in
user124: @ silvia i have maybe £4.50 and a greggs sausage roll to my name but PLEASE LET CHARLES TAP IN
f1
liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 1,298,006 others
tagged: oscarpiastri & carlossainz55
f1: f1... the sport that gives you just as much drama off track as we do on track!
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user125: at this point even before the whole carlos ousting his sister i think oscar was about 👌🏻 this close to rocking carlos nascar style we should let him do it
user126: i will personally pay his legal fees tbh
oscarpiastri: i'm only 23 i don't need two F1-related legal cases to my name
yourusername: i've watched legally blonde about ten billion times let me represent you
oscarpiastri: yeah sounds legit
user127: THAT'S IT WE NEED PROXIMITY CHAT IN F1
user128: the way we know there was a shit talking session like no other after this race
maxverstappen1: i don't kiss and tell but well - yes!
user128: okay since this is clearly a safe space... who was there please spill mr. verstappen
maxverstappen1: ME! charles, pierre, oscar, checo, alex and george!
user128: why the fuck were the last two there?
georgerussell63: i was on official GDPA duty 🤓
alexalbon: that's a lie we're just very nosey
yourusername: they're the biggest PTA moms ever don't even lie
georgerussell63: yes i'll make allergy friendly cupcakes for the bake sale but i'll also spit in them and gossip about your cheating husband - sorry about it!
alexalbon: he's not
georgerussell63: i'm not
user129: carlos slagging off y/n but she's really brought the grid together
user130: george and alex being like we do not care about that but we do want the latest scoop
alexalbon: oh don't get it twisted we're firmly team y/n
user131: we even got the f1 admin in on the drama
carlossainz55: she's probably fucking them as well
yourusername: BORING get a new bit babe
carlossainz55: if i see whore i'm going to say whore
yourusername: aren't you still in that damn stewards office?
carlossainz55: tell your little lap dog to keep his front wing away from my car and maybe i wouldn't
oscarpiastri: suck my dick
yourusername: now that's true poetry
user132: oH!
yourusername
liked by maxverstappen1, alexalbon and 763,409 others
tagged: charles_leclerc, logansargent & oscarpiastri
yourusername: florida !!!!!!!!!!! is one hell of a drug. no seriously what is in the water here i keep picking up these little guys everywhere i go
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user135: she's really like i AM spanish and i will colonise this grid
user136: stealing all the lil cuties for her cause
oscarpiastri: proud to be a part of this weird little circus thing we've got going on
yourusername: oh dibs on ring master
logansargent: i feel like my name is written all over tight rope walking
yourusername: okay yes skinny legend
maxverstappen1: obvs we're a cruelty free circus so no lions but if there were lions, that's me babe
maxverstappen1: SOME people could learn... cough, cough trophy hunters
charles_leclerc: idk i'll just take the one where i can sit there and be pretty
yourusername: and you would be the best at it
oscarpiastri: which one does the least? i'll take that one
user137: bro can we slow the fuck down i was just getting over osc telling carlos to suck his dick now we're talking CIRCUS?
user138: for real couldn't it have at least been cabaret i wanna see ALL of that
charles_leclerc: 🤨
carlossainz55: i think a circus is a perfect way to describe your desperate attempt to stay relevant
yourusername: don't you have a job to go to? oh wait...
carlossainz55: as if i'm threatened by a group with the likes of logan sargent in it
logansargent: bit harsh, i'm a nice guy (unlike some)
yourusername: carlos here's a little bit of a wild thing i'm about to introduce to you.... people have friends?
yourusername: also you WISH you had a face card like logie
carlossainz55: i have friends?
yourusername: no you have PR strategies, there's a difference
carlossainz55: bro learnt the word PR and ran with it
yourusername: tell me one person who would let you crash on their couch?
yourusername: QUICKLY.
fernandoalo_oficial: and don't even think about mentioning me
user139: she hit him with the bianca del rio
user140: OOP and also nando just popping up out of nowhere to diss carlos and never say anything again
charles_leclerc: the drug in question being puppy fever
maxverstappen1: tell me you didn't get a dog
yourusername: boy do i have news for you
carlossainz55: are you trying to baby trap him
yourusername: first woman in history to birth a dog you heard it here first
charles_leclerc: you simply can't be babytrapped when you would literally jump off a bridge if asked to
user141: @myboyfriend TAKE NOTES HONEY ^^^
charles_leclerc
liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 1,745,093 others
tagged: yourusername & oscarpiastri
charles_leclerc: two kids in one month? someone stop us
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user142: y/n really lost an apartment and a brother and gained about 27 f1 drivers and a dog
user143: glow up of the century some might say
liked by charles_leclerc
yourusername: soz it's a coping mechanism
charles_leclerc: and that's okay <3
maxverstappen1: anything to help with that emotional CONSTIPATION
yourusername: have you tried to live with those narcissistic and emotionally unavailable men?
maxverstappen1: you're asking the wrong person that question honey
yourusername: girl are WE good?
maxverstappen1: no
yourusername: BUT THAT'S OKAY
charles_leclerc: not to rain on this parade but i think therapy would really be a positive move here
user144: i feel bad for charles cause i know these hoes are the type to just tell each other EXACTLYYYYY when they make poor decisions
maxverstappen1: true, no smart bitches would let their bff live with THAT man
yourusername: and let their bff constantly chat shit and ruin their image
maxverstappen1: can't ruin my image if i'm spitting FACTS
user145: max will nawt let this go
maxverstappen1: i'll forget you but i'll never forgive the smallest man who ever lived
yourusername: GIRL
maxverstappen1: whoops, one sec. spoiler alert: y/n unleased poetry. trigger warning: c*rlos s*inz
olliebearman: ollie bearman erasure
charles_leclerc: GASP OLLIE I AM SO SORRY
yourusername: no he actually is he's crying
charles_leclerc: it's the pregnancy hormones
olliebearman: it's okay i swear
charles_leclerc: I'M A TERRIBLE FATHER
carlossainz55: i could've told you that for free
olliebearman: why are you in our family buisness
user146: charles is channelling all of his carlos rage through ollie oh my
olliebearman: i am a happy conduit for my father who is in the ferrari PR jail
yourusername: can we send carlos here and throw away the key?
user147: charles is really out there like keep my girl's name out of your mouth cause even the bitch who stole your seat for a weekend is my SON
user148: y/n wasn't joking about with this grid domination
user149: but also i'm glad all of this fun stuff is happening amongst all of the shit that's been thrown at her from her family
oscarpiastri: a leclerc and proud (i race like my dad and throw shade like my mum)
yourusername: the best way to be
charles_leclerc: proud of you, you're such a good dog brother :)
oscarpiastri: i've just learnt to be patient after alpine and lando
yourusername: you still took your shoes being leo's personal bathroom really well
oscarpiastri: he's too cute to be mad at
yourusername
liked by maxverstappen, charles_leclerc and 824,109 others
tagged: charles_leclerc
yourusername: first mother's day with my boys
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user150: gonna enjoy this super wholesome post before... he... ruins it
user151: manifesting a y/n post without that bitter old hag in the comment section
charles_leclerc: the best mother for our fur baby and our miscellaneous other children
yourusername: only the best with you :(
charles_leclerc: ugh i love you so much
yourusername: i love you even more
user152: they're so fucking cute
user153: damn carlos i too would be angry if my baby sister and my teammate outshined my third PR relationship in six months
user154: the sainz family have generational levels of hating, but one does it for good (poetry) and one does it for bad (anything carlos ever says)
oscarpiastri: happiest mother's day to my grid mum! here's to reading them to filth xx
yourusername: OSC!! i always knew you were my favourite aussie
danielricciardo: did my enchante PR mean nothing?
yourusername: i mean i wear it all of the time... but it's osc ...
danielricciardo: true, i broke my hand before i could even think of accidentally hurting him
user155: also babe is looking so unbothered, moisturised and free we need the skin care routine
oscarpiastri: the tears of carlos sainz
yourusername: and cleansing your life of toxic family members
user156: okay clearly oscar was done with the whole "i'm so chill" bit cause since his adoption by charles and y/n he's been non stop on carlos' neck
oscarpiastri: i'm a ride or die for my mum cry about it
maxverstappen1: as the kids would say ... mother is mothering? @olliebearman did i do it right?
charles_leclerc: stop trying to steal my kids
maxverstappen1: BRO I'M TRYING TO COMPLIMENT YOUR GIRLFRIEND
charles_leclerc: that's literally my job 🤨
yourusername: tbf i'll take as many compliments as i can
charles_leclerc: are mine not enough?
yourusername: when you've got a self esteem this low, you gotta take what you can get
charles_leclerc: oh :(
user157: max and y/n fighting over who trauma dumps more about their upbringing
carlossainz55: this bit is very tiring. you'll be a terrible mother and all these people you think are your friends will drop you as soon as they know who you really are.
yourusername: you done?
carlossainz55: as you loveeeee to point out, i don't have much to lose anymore so i really wouldn't test me
yourusername: trying to make me homeless and stealing all of my money wasn't enough?
carlossainz55: charles will know the truth soon enough and you won't have us to come crying to
yourusername: i'll take those chances thank you
user158: hold ON what do you mean stole all her money
yourusername: i was never allowed my own bank account so all my earnings have gone to them!
user159: okay that's it WE RIDE AT DAWN
fin.
note: oh girl life has been BUSY!!! i just got a new job and have been looking desperately for a flat to move out to. also i've had family visiting and going here, there and everywhere. but i hope you enjoy! this was a lil more light-hearted lol (until the end) so enjoy the addition of the leclerc family lore xx
ALSO i wanted to say a massive THANK YOU FOR 6,000 FOLLOWERS love you all <3
taglist: @aadu2173@rhythmstars@kqliie@booksandflowrs@2bormaybenot @firelily-mimi @evie-119 @mehrsdigitaldiary @sltwins @bibissparkles @evans-dejong @eiaaasamantha @23victoria @halleest @venusacrossthestars @boywondrgrayson @rare2306 @charlesgirl16 @reguluscrystals @hiireadstuff @destinyg237 @mael1pastry @sweet-creature98 @changetyre @eclipsedcherry @its-elias-world @brune77e @exotic-iris13 @woozarts @alenix @minkyungseokie @sheridamn @boherahpsody @jaydaaasworld @e-nonsense @vogueprincess @loloekie @dckgzz @cluvsya @amberpanda99 @apollosfavkiddo @lyraconstellation @marshmummy @casperlikej @softtina @gabys-gabs @happyhoganluvr @sesamepancakes @mehrmonga @hdigditditdjgd @elijahslover @k4marina @velentine @callsignwidow @scott-mccall-could-lift-mjolnir @thetorturedblogger @bwormie @moldyshorts1997 @mellowarcadefun @ietss @cecedrake2217 @charllleclerc @golden-hoax @nikfigueiredo
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 instagram au#f1 x you#f1#f1 social media au#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc#astonmartinii
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ᴄᴏᴜʀᴛɪɴɢ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ
featuring: protective!heian!sukuna, kindhearted!servant!reader. slight angst/hurt -> comfort.
synopsis: you're sick. to your surprise, you're rescued by the man second closest to death himself.
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you should've known he wouldn't come. sukuna has never set foot in the servant's headquarters in his life, let alone to chase after a sick servant. you lower your head, trying to ease the headache that has plagued you through the day.
sukuna loves his bloodshed and his gore. him and death would be good friends, you think to yourself. he wouldn't care if your body was burnt or buried, you think to yourself; wouldn't care if you died at all.
the room the others put you in is empty. ash spreads neatly over the cold floor. the scent of kibble haunts the atmosphere. it's where they put the dogs before sukuna killed them.
ever since you took care of the king of curses while he was sick, the other servants had been careful in keeping a distance from you. not in ill of heart; they're simply terrified at what you must've done to survive in your week long stay with the monster. honestly, you don't blame them.
but now when you're laying on the freezing ground, struggling to breathe, it's hard not to.
'this is where you live?'
your eyes look up. shock. then, with all the strength you can muster, you heave yourself one step away from the man at the doorway, which only serves to piss him off more.
sukuna ryomen, in all his glory, looks down at you. bending down to pick you up like a limp doll to be seated against the wall, he seems to revel in his regained strength. you can't help but feel happy for him, to have survived this fatal disease. not many men can attest to that...
then again, he is no ordinary man.
'i asked you a question.'
you nod, a small thing, barely a movement. he seems to clench his teeth.
he takes off his long white coat, flaunting a layer of dried blood, and drapes it over your shoulders.
yet it doesn't end there. he retrieves from his pocket a bottle of what looks to be a golden syrup.
you know exactly what it is.
he takes your hand and wraps it around the flask, making you hold it, sparing, not one, but two of his eyes, to stare at you, making sure you do as he commands.
'swallow.'
you shake your head. you know he's asking you to do. this is a medication is so rare for your disease that no sorcerer has found in over a hundred years. he's brought this thing of myth right to your very lips. now he's asking you to drink it, and thus take away any chance of it saving anyone else's life.
you scowl, but the tickling sensation in your throat grows stronger, eventually erupting out of your mouth in a harsh cough. you look away from sukuna.
'leave,' you whisper, weakly. 'don't wanna infect you.'
'i survived the illness already. i've developed an immunity.'
you shake your head again. you couldn't threaten your king's health with your own weakness. you just couldn't.
'i can't take this.'
he growls. without any notice, he swallows your lips in a kiss. in the momentary haze, you could hardly resist, fisting the front of his kimono to ground yourself. then, you feel something sweet, honey-ish, hit your tongue.
with his hand locked on your chin, it forces you to swallow.
you pull back, pushing him away. he groans.
he wipes his mouth, still with two eyes staring.
no... no, why did he do that?
'y-you- how? no... why did you waste it on me?' you whisper, desperately searching his face for an answer. 'i'm just a servant. you could've given it to a princess, or a scholar, or priest-'
he grabs you by the arm and forces you into his arms. its heat astounds you, and you find yourself crawling closer. a vague thumping sound seems to press against your ear-
oh. you calm your breathing.
it's his heartbeat.
alive.
'sleep in my room tonight,' he demands.
what did he say? you strain your mind, trying to replay what he said earlier. no... maybe you heard correctly.
'but i'm no concubine,' you respond, instantly.
his arm supports your waist, helping you up effortlessly to your feet. he then directs two of his eyes to the doorway, his cadence low and domineering.
'it doesn't matter.'
he leads you placidly through the servant's quarters. you notice all conversation cease at your entry, bodies dropping into a low bow. a small voice in you whispers that it's where you should be too. you tug at sukuna's arm.
'i'm only a servant, sukuna.'
you know what it looks like, a servant clutching onto a man, more god than human. a man who has slaughtered villages, blood staining the base of his kimono crimson, and turned half a province on its head, just to save you.
'whatever you are in my eyes is what you are to the world,' he states, his expression unchanging. 'if i deem you a queen, that is who you are.'
exiting the servant compound, you know you can't say no- not like you wanted to. the wide expanse of his chest is comforting.
yet however sweet this feeling remains, you can't help but gulp. perhaps this is the closest a human has ever come to courting death.
#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna ryomen#jjk#jjk sukuna#jjk x reader#jujutsu sukuna#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#ryomen sukuna#sukuna fluff#ryomen x reader#jjk fluff#sukuna angst
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Cherry Red, Crimson Blood
Chapter 21: Crime and Punishment
Summary: A trip to town to run errands has you questioning everything.
Pairing: Poly 141 x reader
Word Count: 7,719
Warnings: Ch 21 Warnings: NSFW, 18+, p in v sex, unprotected sex, rough-ish sex, overstimulation, creampie, language, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, Ghost’s emotional constipation, unresolved sexual tension, angst, and of course fluff.
A/N: I don't think I've ever written the word panties as many times as I did here. Again, not much to say about this one, so I hope you enjoy!!
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You stare at your face in the mirror. Wisps of hair stick to your forehead from the sweat starting to bead on your skin, your lips slightly parted as you breathe heavily. Your hands grip the edges of the sink, knuckles white from how hard you’re holding on for dear life.
Your legs are trembling, quickly turning into jello. You lean forward more, resting your hips against the edge of the sink for stability. Your mouth falls open in a moan as it changes the position of the cock pistoning into you just slightly.
Soft grunts leave Johnny’s lips as he fucks you in your bathroom, his thrusts urgent and desperate. Five minutes, he had groaned against your lips as he pushed your door open and walked you backwards into your room.
It’s probably been longer than five minutes, but you’re hardly in the state of mind to care. He’s supposed to be halfway across the base by now, but you’re certain he doesn’t care either. It won’t take the others long to figure out what had made him so late, and you can almost guarantee John will make him pay for choosing to play hooky and having a quickie with you in the bathroom instead of going to training like he’s supposed to.
One of his hands leaves the vice-like grip he’s had around your hips to slide to the front of your body, his fingers frantically rubbing circles over your clit. Your back arches in pleasure as the sensations become too much, your hips pushing back against his. He’s still dressed, his cargo pants pushed down over his ass just enough to free his cock. Your pants are around your ankles, underwear pushed to the side. Your shirt and bra are pushed up over your chest, your breasts out on display for him. His eyes haven’t left them in the mirror and the way they bounce with every rough thrust of his hips.
“Jesus christ, yer gonnae kill me.” He groans as your pussy clamps tightly around him.
He presses his chest to your back, his hand gripping the edge of the sink as you writhe in his arms. His fingers don’t let up on your clit as you cum, your legs trying to clamp around his hand.
“Johnny!” You squeal as the sensation becomes overwhelming. “Too much!”
“Ye can take it.” He groans in your ear, his voice breathy and hoarse from pleasure. “Just a little more.”
All you can do is babble incoherently as he continues to slam his hips into your ass, his breaths heavy in your ear. You can feel the pressure building again despite the burning overstimulation of his fingers on your clit.
“Please, please, please!” You pant, your head pressing back against his shoulder as you arch further against him.
“Fucking love this sweet little cunt.” He growls into your ear, his thrusts starting to get sloppy. “So fucking good fer me.”
You’re cumming again, your knees buckling under you. His arm snakes around your waist, finally moving from your clit to hold you up. He lets out a loud, salacious groan as his hips slam into you one last time. You can feel his cock twitching as he cums, emptying his load inside you.
His forehead presses against your back for a moment as you both attempt to catch your breaths. Your legs are still trembling as he begins to move, pulling his cock from you before he slides your panties back into place. He drags his hand over your covered folds, groaning quietly.
“Better keep that in there.” He says, tugging your pants back up, doing the button for you and tugging the zipper back up. “Keep your mind on me the whole day.”
You moan softly at his words, your pussy clenching out of instinct. He groans as he tucks himself back into his pants, staring down at your tits as you turn to face him. He curses, cupping them in his hands for a moment.
“Fuck, I have tae go. Price is gonna kick my arse for bein’ late.” He leans down to kiss you, tugging your bra and shirt back down. “See ye at lunch, if I survive the wrath waitin’ fer me.”
He leaves you there so casually, as if he hadn’t just spent the last ten minutes fucking you relentlessly in your bathroom. Your legs are still trembling as you lean against the sink, your teeth sinking into your lip as Johnny’s cum begins to seep out of you. They’ll know, they’ll know exactly why he’s late with one whiff of his scent. He’ll smell like you, smell like the musky scent of sex and sweat. All hope of blaming it on something else is out the window.
All you can do is pray John goes easy on him. It’s not like you haven’t made John late before, though usually both of you were late for meals because you decided you needed an appetizer, and it felt unfair to make him walk around half hard. You hope he can have a little sympathy for Johnny. If you’d said no, made him be on time to training, he might not have been able to focus at all.
You still can’t be sure he’ll be able to focus, though. You’ve probably only succeeded in changing the trajectory of his thoughts. Instead of whistfully picturing himself fucking you, he will be thinking about how he fucked you.
You wonder how John will punish him for being late and distracted. Pushups? Running? Maybe extra rounds running the obstacle course. Or maybe he’ll save the punishment for later. Maybe he’ll force Johnny to sit there and watch him fuck Johnny’s cum out of you, force Johnny to sit still and not touch himself or you. Maybe he’ll fuck you right over Johnny, your tits bouncing in his face just as he likes, but he’ll be restrained, forced to watch but not to touch. He’ll get all whiny, begging for any mercy as his cock gets all red and swollen, throbbing in time with John’s thrusts.
Your pussy clenches at the thought, more of Johnny’s release seeping out of you.
Fuck, you are going to be thinking about him all day.
“Took your time, MacTavish.” John says, crossing his arms as the beta Sergeant saunters into the gym.
“Get your dick caught in a door again?” Simon asks, crossing his arms too.
“More like he got his dick caught in a saucy little omega.” Kyle says, catching the overwhelming scent of sex and strawberries wafting off his fellow beta.
Simon’s hands clench, his scent thickening just a little, but none of them seem to pick up on it.
“Well, since you seemed to have more important things to do than your job this morning, you can go first.” John says, nodding to the mat. “Garrick, you’re up too.”
Kyle makes his way to the middle of the mat, cracking his knuckles. Johnny saunters to the middle of the mat behind him, still riding the high of his quickie before joining them. Your scent is thick on his clothes, wafting into his nose, bringing back mental images of you bent over before him, tits bouncing in the mirror as he drove his hips into your ass over and over. Those sweet cries of pleasure, the way you shoot in his arms making his blood pump in his veins, the satisfaction making his head spin a bit.
Kyle moves first, hoping to use Johnny’s seemingly distracted state against him. He aims for Johnny’s middle, but Johnny’s ready for it, blocking Kyle from getting his arms around him.
Johnny uses the advantage, planting his feet firmly as he flips Kyle onto his back, pinning his fellow beta. Kyle yields, Johnny’s shoulder in his stomach not helping the spasm in his diaphragm from how he hit the mat.
“Bloody hell.” Kyle gasps out, trying to catch his breath. “The fuck was that?”
“Just me beating you. Again.” Johnny smirks.
“Yeah? Well I still have you beat on the course.” Kyle says, pushing himself up to stand. “Should work on your speed instead of your biceps once in a while.”
“Alright, you two.” Price says, stopping the argument before it becomes something more. “Garrick, get out of there.” He silently motions for Simon to take Kyle’s place.
Simon moves onto the mat, staring down his beta. It’s not unfamiliar from the first time they ever sparred together. Simon has size and raw power to his advantage, but Johnny is quick on his feet. Johnny takes a defensive stance, planting his feet on the mat. Simon moves quickly, Johnny just barely managing to dodge his first hit. Simon catches Johnny's own swing aimed for his face, wrapping his arms around the beta to try and sweep him off his feet.
His mistake is taking in a deep breath so close to Johnny's chest.
The scent of strawberries flows straight into the back of his brain, igniting a fire in his veins. His blood is boiling, his instincts riding high off the scent of omega wafting off of his beta, creating an alluring cocktail that nearly blinds him.
Simon rams his shoulder into Johnny’s stomach, the air leaving the beta’s lungs in a pained gasp. He flips Johnny onto his back, the back of his head smacking the mat.
“Christ, I yield.” Johnny gasps, holding up his hands to stop Simon from continuing his assault.
Simon’s hands are shaking, his breathing ragged. His mind is still reeling from the scent of omega on his beta. He shouldn’t be reacting this way to the scent of an omega he knows well, an omega he recognizes. He had accepted Johnny would want that kind of relationship with the pack omega early on, so why does he feel jealousy burning in the back of his mind.
He leaves the training room, slamming the door behind him before heading outside, gulping down lungfuls of damp air free from the scent of omega. You weren’t even in the room and yet it was like you were standing before him, taunting him with your sweet scent. He leans against the outside wall of the gym, letting the air clear his head. Had they been alone and not in the middle of the base, he might have pulled off his mask, let the air touch his skin and dry the sweat that has slowly soaked into the fabric.
He squeezes his eyes shut as the door opens, the gravel crunching under cautious steps. He can feel eyes on him, the prickling of his skin from the harsh, questioning gaze. It’s not the first time he’s found himself under the scrutinizing stare of his pack alpha. He’s used to it, the attention being on him. He's an officer, he's the one being looked to when things go wrong, when important decisions need to be made. He has to be aware, clear-headed, and focused at all times.
That's the one thing he can't be right now.
“It will get easier if you just give in.” Price says, leaning against the wall next to him. “I know you want to.” Price cuts him off before he can offer up any argument. “The longer you try to deny it, the worse things will get for you. I don’t want to have to question your ability to be successful in the field.”
Simon swallows the lump in his throat, his mind reeling. He knows deep down Price is right. The longer he pushes away those thoughts, fights to keep those urges at bay, the more that tight rein on his emotions will slip. His hands clench into fists at his sides, his chest rising as he takes a deep breath. He’s spent decades now mastering control, keeping things buried when he needs to. Then you come along and fuck everything up for him.
It’s not fair to blame it on you. It’s not your fault. You don’t even know you’re doing it. You’re not even trying. You just exist around him and he's losing control.
Price can report that to the stupid initiative program.
“Is this going to become a problem?” Price asks him, giving him a pointed look.
Simon sucks in another deep breath. Is it going to become a problem? Is he going to let it become a problem? He releases the breath, shaking his head to try and clear it. “No, sir.”
“How are you doing?”
“Better.” You say, stretching your legs out in front of you. “I didn’t have a nightmare last night.”
“That’s great! Small improvements are still improvements.” Dr. Keller says, writing something down on her notepad. “How are things going with your pack? Have things settled since they returned?”
You nod. “Yeah. For the most part. There’s still...something lingering.” You chew on your lip nervously. You can’t tell her what it is, the thing that eats you alive daily. She’d have to tell your pack, and then everything would come undone. “I’m worried that any day now they’ll have to leave me again.”
“You won’t be alone this time, though.” She says, reminding you of what John had done for you.
“I know, but...what if they don’t come back?”
“That is an unfortunate reality, a risk you all have to live with. There’s not much that can be changed about that, but I know they’ll do everything in their power to return home to you.” ’ She gives you a soft smile. “They care about you a lot.”
“But...they're supposed to put their jobs above everything else. That was part of this whole experiment. Their jobs come first, and I come second.”
“But, Captain Price has already advocated against that by requiring one of them stay behind with you when they get sent out on assignments. That’s not putting their job above you.”
She’s right. John fighting to make things more comfortable for you was them putting their priority on you and your comfort. Of course, John had told you they had only advocated for it at this point. There was no guarantee those in leadership would approve, that General Shepherd would approve, but he said he’d fight it as hard as he had to. It wasn’t always necessary for all of them to be sent out anyway, so it was more likely there’d be at least one, if not two of them with you most of the time.
“Besides,” Dr. Keller continues. “In my professional opinion, it’s not sustainable to expect them to have an omega in their pack and also expect them to neglect their omega in favor of their jobs. The whole point of the initiative is to see if the assimilation of omegas into military packs will be helpful or a hindrance. There has to be a balance if they want even a chance at this being successful. While their jobs and what they do is important, they can’t expect full dedication to that job while also trying to care for an omega.”
You’ve never thought about it that way before. They had been so dead set in your briefings about how their jobs were more important than you and how you had to be prepared for anything to happen because their job always comes first.
“It’s important to keep in mind that you are essentially the trial for this initiative. There’s going to be ups and downs, things they didn’t account for in their planning, if they did any real planning, and things that have to be adjusted as they come up. There’s just some things you can’t properly predict until the trial is taking place.”
You haven’t really thought about it that way either. You are the first omega involved in this initiative, the trial run, the guinea pig. Is that why General Shepherd came to base and wanted to meet you? Is that why they wanted cameras in your room? To ensure things really were going properly, and everyone was doing what they were supposed to do? That things really are as fine as you, and likely John, have said?
What if they think things are going badly? What if they think the initiative is a failure? What happens then? What can they really do now that you’ve been claimed and assimilated into the pack?
“What’s going on in your head?” Dr. Keller asks softly.
“What if...what’s going to happen if the initiative fails?” You ask.
Dr. Keller hums, obviously not having expected that question. “Well, I don’t think there’s much they can do. They made it far enough in the planning that they thought it was worth the chance of a live trial with an omega and an established pack. They wouldn’t have taken that risk without the belief that it will be successful.” Dr. Keller crosses her legs, setting her notebook to the side. “If, and it’s a big if, it failed, then there’s not a lot they can do, legally. You’ve been claimed, which legally puts you under Captain Price’s care, and while the military is a grey area when it comes to legality, I doubt they’d run the risk of trying to remove you from the pack at this point.”
“They’d run the risk of their task force falling apart.” You say, the pieces starting to come together.
Dr. Keller nods. “Exactly. If your pack is as important as they appear to be, I doubt anyone involved in this would take that risk of losing such valuable soldiers. Forcibly removing you would turn your pack against them in the blink of an eye. All trust they have in their superiors will be turned on its head and destroyed completely. No matter how loyal they are to their jobs, that loyalty will shift very quickly should something happen to you at their hands.”
You swallow the lump in your throat, your heart rate starting to kick up. So you had made the right choice in keeping General Shepherd’s visit and the cameras a secret. The last thing you want is to ruin their lives over what was probably nothing, over something that would have been inconsequential in the end. Something they possibly know about already.
That thought lingers constantly in the back of your mind. They know and they’re waiting for you to finally spill and reveal what happened. What happens then? How will they punish you for lying to them, for withholding important information, information that puts not only you, but them at risk as well? Will they ever forgive you for not telling them right away? Could you grovel and plead with excuses of fear and naivety? Could you lie again and claim you were scruffed? John already knows of your nightmares, of your fear. You’d have to think up a reason as to why you lied to him that night too, though.
Lying will only dig you deeper and deeper into more lies until all their trust in you is broken beyond repair.
The trust between you will still be broken if you tell them, though.
“Have you been thinking of this a lot lately?” Dr. Keller asks, pulling you from your thoughts.
You nod, dropping your gaze to your hands. “I overheard John and Simon talking about it the other night. Simon asked if this was worth it if it failed, and John seemed confident it wouldn’t.”
“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it as many times as I need to.” You lift your gaze to meet Dr. Keller’s. Her face is as serious as her tone. “Your pack isn’t going to let anything happen to you. Pack loyalty to omegas is not something to be tested, especially not a pack as fierce as yours. They’d go to war for you, if they had to. I don’t doubt that one bit.”
Your brows pull into a frown. “You really think so?”
She nods. “I know so. You’re very lucky.”
You are lucky. Things could have been much worse for you.
“C’mon kitten,” Johnny says, barging into your room.
You let out a startled shriek, nearly jumping out of your skin as you clutch your towel desperately around your naked, still slightly damp form. You just got out of the shower not too long ago, and had been deciding on what to wear on the warmest day you’ve experienced since your arrival in England when Johnny barged his way into your room.
Barged may be a strong word for it. Your door wasn’t even closed all the way.
Your heart is still thudding in your chest, your breaths slightly heavy as he digs through your closet, picking out clothes for you. “What the hell?” You breathe, adjusting your grip on your towel. “Scared the shit out of me.”
Johnny turns, giving you a grin. “Sorry, kitten.” His eyes drop to where you’re clutching the towel, and you can practically see the idea flash through his mind, the idea to rip the towel off and lick every last droplet of water off of your body before having his way with you.
“What’s going on?” You ask, trying to refocus his mind on what he was doing.
His eyes snap back up to yours, his grin widening. “We’re goin’ on an excursion.”
“Excursion?” You ask, barely managing to catch the clothes he throws at you and keep your towel up at the same time.
“Got some errands tae run in town, an’ yer comin’ with us.” He looks you over. “So get your claes on and meet us outside.”
You blink at him as he leaves your room, not bothering to close the door behind him. You stare down at the clothes in your hands, a t-shirt and the skirt that’s been hanging in your closet that you had yet to even try on. Of course he’d pick something like that for you to wear. You’re tempted to go without underwear, but that’s probably exactly what he wanted. If you were staying in the barracks, then you might have done it, but being out in public you don’t want to risk a stray breeze. The last thing you need is some alpha seeing it as an opportunity and trying something stupid.
You finish getting ready, drying yourself off and getting dressed before pulling on a pair of comfortable shoes. Your hair is still slightly damp as you make your way out of the barracks, a car pulled up outside as you expected.
“You promise to drive carefully?” John is saying, holding the keys up in front of Johnny.
“Of course.” Johnny says, looking past him to grin at you. “There’s precious cargo on board.”
“I’m putting a lot of trust in you.” John says, giving him a look before dropping the keys into Johnny’s hand. John turns to you, staring down at you for a moment before leaning down to press a kiss on your forehead. “Let me know when you get there.” He murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear.
You nod, leaning up to kiss his cheek before getting into the car.
You’re surprised to see Simon sitting in the passenger seat. You had expected maybe Kyle would be tagging along, or even John, but this is something entirely unexpected. He’s in his beanie and face mask combo again, the same thing he’d been wearing when he and John took you to town before your heat.
The night he bought the ingredients to make you enchiladas.
It still brings a warmth to your chest when you think about it, that he did that for you. It had been his idea to do it, his idea to bring you some comfort during the stress and insecurity your approaching heat had brought on. He does care about you, in his own way. He’s been showing it, at least for the most part, looking back on your interactions with him.
He has to care about you, if he’s willing to do this.
It wasn’t his decision, you know that. Johnny was likely forcing him to come along, either to appease John’s concerns, or in case of an incident. Not that Johnny’s not fully capable of handling a situation on his own, but having an alpha at your back makes it less likely someone would try something at all.
The fact John is trusting them with you speaks volumes of his trust in his pack, in his second alpha. You know they won’t let anything happen to you, they’ll protect you just as fiercely as if you were their omega.
You could be, if he wanted it.
You push that thought to the back of your mind as Johnny climbs into the driver's seat, the car rumbling to life.
Johnny isn’t a terrible driver. Despite the many stories you’ve heard over the last few weeks, you had been expecting worse. Kyle had been right, of course, he takes the speed limit as more of a suggestion, and weaves around on the road, passing slower cars and farm equipment in ways that are probably not legal. Despite that, you’re not gripping the seat in fear or holding on for dear life. You had been expecting much worse when he climbed into the driver’s seat.
Though, from what you’ve heard, Johnny is the most preferable of the two in the car when it comes to driving.
The farmlands fade into civilization as the buildings grow closer and closer together. It’s only your fourth trip into town, but yet you’ve already begun to recognize landmarks, businesses. You could navigate if you had to, something you know they’d be proud of. You wonder if Simon would praise you for that, considering how annoyed he always seems to be about how much time you spend lost in your own thoughts.
Johnny pulls into a parking spot on the street, and you send a quick text to John to let him know you made it in one piece. Johnny opens your door for you, offering you a hand. You take it, letting him help you out before he laces your fingers together, squeezing your hand gently.
You’re glad you wore comfortable shoes as you walk around with them, picking up a few items from different shops. Johnny keeps hold of your hand, Simon walking behind the two of you like a protective shadow. The people you pass on the street give you a wide berth, and you know it’s Simon’s doing as their eyes skirt past you and Johnny to the big alpha trailing you. You can imagine the silent threat behind his eyes, daring them to even think of trying anything.
“The last stop.” Johnny says, pausing in front of a familiar storefront.
You’ve been here before, the day of your first date with John when he’d taken your virginity. The lingerie shop where you’d gotten those lacy panties the guys seemed to admire so much. Your cheeks warm as Johnny opens the door for you, the stark reminder of who you’re with suddenly snapping into your mind. This trip definitely was Johnny’s doing. Did he even know this was a stop that you were going to make? If he did, he probably wouldn’t have come along and talked Kyle into it instead.
Or maybe he did know and he did want to come along.
Or, maybe, Johnny pouted at him and begged until he had no choice but to agree.
The answer is likely the latter.
You wonder if he’ll stay outside, or perhaps even return to the car in favor of stepping into a lingerie store. You can’t imagine him inside, the hulking alpha among the delicate lace and fabrics. A bull in a china shop.
You’re surprised when he enters behind you, looking about as uncomfortable as you expected him to in a place like this. His shoulders are squared, hands opening and closing into fists at his sides. He’s looking everywhere but at what’s on the racks, his gaze flicking around the store instead, taking stock of everyone inside shopping.
You let Johnny take the lead, Simon keeping his distance as you peruse the racks. You’re not just there to replenish your quickly dwindling stash of lacy underwear, you realize as Johnny begins flipping through items on the racks. He’s got some other ideas for you as well. You can see the wheels turning in his head, the concentration in his eyes as he looks over his options.
Your face gets warmer and warmer as he holds things up in front of you, studying you and the lingerie. He’s picturing you in it, most likely in lewd positions. You’re close to combusting out of bashfulness, but also from the fire igniting under your veins. You’re trying to keep it under control, trying to keep things as discreet as possible for the sake of the other shoppers in the store. The last thing you want is to draw any unwanted attention and cause a scene.
“That’s definitely the one.” He says, holding up a purple mess of lace and straps. You’re not sure how you’re going to get into it, much less what it will look like while you’re wearing it, but he seems to know what he’s looking at, so you’re not going to contradict him. You might just need his help getting into it, which you’re sure he won’t complain about.
Your skin prickles as you continue to follow Johnny, warning bells going off in the back of your head.
Someone is staring at you.
You lift your gaze from the rack Johnny is flipping through, scanning the store to try and find who it is that’s staring at you so intently. It’s not Simon where he’s lingering against the back wall trying to avoid touching anything like it might infect him with some deadly disease, or give him the mental image of you in it.
The prickling of your skin feels too different from the prickling you usually feel when his gaze is on you. Someone is watching you, yet the shoppers and even the employees in the store are in their own little worlds, going about their business and paying you no mind. You step closer to Johnny, your arm brushing his. It’s not unlike the feeling you get in your room, the idea that there were cameras in there, that there still might be one that you missed. That paranoid tickling down your spine that you might be being watched at any moment.
“Ye alright, kitten?” Johnny asks, looking up at you as you step even closer to him.
Warmth presses against your back, making you flinch just slightly in surprise. You nearly panic, until the familiar scent of leather and eucalyptus washes over you.
“What is it?” Warm breath fans your ear, calloused fingers ghosting down your bare arm.
“I-I think someone’s watching us.” You say quietly, leaning into both of them.
Both of them straighten up, and you can imagine their gazes scanning the store, profiling every single customer and worker, picking up things you could only dream of noticing. Simon’s fingers wrap around your arm, not tight enough to hurt, but tight enough to offer a little support as they look for the culprit of your paranoid feelings.
There’s no tickling at the back of your neck signaling your brain picking up on a change to Simon’s emotions. Neither of them seem to pick up on a possible threat. Perhaps it’s all just in your head, some sort of trauma response after being cooped up on base for so long paired with what happened while they were away. There are cameras in the store. You are being watched. Maybe it’s just trauma fueled paranoia after all.
Simon lets go of your arm to step up close to Johnny, speaking quietly to him. You’re not listening, your eyes scanning the store again. You slide closer to Simon, the prickling feeling of being watched gone now. Your hand lifts, fingers wrapping around his forearm, his skin warm under your touch. You’ve never been quite this close to him, this physical, that wasn’t out of necessity before. It’s exciting, the prospect of being so open with him. Just the thought that he noticed your discomfort, picked up on your worry like that makes your omega want to roll over and show her belly.
“Ye alright, kitten?” Johnny asks, his eyes flickering between you and Simon.
Your gaze snaps back to him, and you nod without even thinking about it. “Yeah.”
“You two go an’ pick out some new skids, I’m almost done.” He says. They must not have noticed anything worthy of being concerned about, nothing that could lead them to thinking there’s a threat.
It’s just like what happened that morning when you asked Simon to open the door to your room all over again.
Suddenly the mood shifts back to what it was at Johnny’s words, Simon shifting uncomfortably next to you. You can feel his muscles flex under your hand as he clenches his fists, letting out a long breath.
You shake off the paranoia and the worry, putting your trust in them should something happen. You drop your hand from his forearm to his wrist, tugging lightly on his arm. “Come on. They’re just panties. They don’t bite.” You grin teasingly up at him.
“Bloody hell.” He groans before letting you tug him over to the section of the store with the underwear.
You find the ones that you had gotten before, grabbing one in every color. Simon stands to the side like a guard dog, arms crossed, trying to look as manly as possible amongst the lace and ribbons. You pick up a couple more in Johnny’s favorite color, the beta approaching you both.
“Look what I found.” He grins wickedly, holding up a pair of panties.
You nearly choke as you stare at them, Simon shifting just slightly behind you. In Johnny’s hands are a pair of black cheeky panties with lace edges. They wouldn’t be anything special, had it not been for the skull pattern on the fabric.
Your face warms as you stare at them, the meaning not lost on you. Of course Johnny would find something like that in a store with probably hundreds of pairs of underwear. You can’t help but think he might have been looking for something like that this whole time.
Johnny steps up to you, turning you around to face Simon. His back brushes your chest as he wraps his arms around you, holding the panties up in front of your chest.
You wish you could see Simon’s face. All of his face. His jaw is clenched, his eyes burning as he stares at the underwear in Johnny’s hands. His whole body is tense, the tendons and muscles in his forearms bulging from how tightly he’s clenching his muscles. A bead of sweat runs down your back from the intensity of his stare, his gaze shifting from the underwear to your face. They flicker back and forth, almost like he doesn’t quite know which is worse to look at: you or the panties.
His body tenses even more, his gaze finally settling on the underwear. He’s imagining you in them. You can see it, the way his eyes get darker and darker, his scent thickening. Several thoughts run through your head as you stare at him, your stomach fluttering as you suddenly come to a realization. You lift your hands, taking the underwear from Johnny, continuing to hold it in front of your chest.
“Fucking hell...” Simon breathes, his hands dropping to his sides, still tightly closed into fists.
“Would...” You clear your throat, trying to shake the waver from your voice. “Would you like to see me in them?”
His gaze snaps to yours, and it nearly has you running for cover. He looks like he wants to simultaneously devour you and bend you over the nearest table. The primal urge to run tickles in the back of your brain, to run and let him chase you.
He looks like he would do it, too.
Have you been misreading his actions towards you? You never thought he’d feel like that about you. Was his reluctant tolerance, his drive to keep you at arm’s length less because he disliked you, and more because he likes you too much?
His behavior and his actions begin to make sense the more you think about it. He’s not keeping you at arm's distance because he doesn't like you, because he doesn’t think you don’t belong with them. He’s not afraid of the weakness you might cause in the pack, the disruption you’ve brought to their lives. He’s afraid of how you’re making him feel.
Has he ever been in love? Has he ever held feelings for another before Johnny? Did he even want to have feelings for Johnny in the first place, or did Johnny force his way in until Simon finally accepted he can’t change the way he feels?
You’re not trying to invoke that kind of response from him. You’ve respected his boundaries, kept him at arm’s distance as much as you could to try and avoid making him hate you, to try and avoid ruining all the work you’ve put into just making him accept you as part of the pack.
Maybe you had been trying in all the wrong ways.
All the things he did for you, all the ways he treated you suddenly make sense. His disappointment at your neglecting him on the tarmac should have made it obvious to you.
Hell, he’d let you spoon him the very next morning like it was nothing.
Does he want to be your second alpha? Even if he doesn’t, does he want to push past that barrier and open up to that kind of relationship with you? The bond you have with him is hardly even platonic, a weak thread connecting you built out of proximity and interaction. The bond you have with Dr. Keller is stronger, and she’s not even part of your pack.
Does he want to build that bond with you?
Looking at him has your body warming, a fire igniting under your skin. You can’t handle it anymore, the intensity of his stare threatening to make you do something indecent in this lingerie shop.
You turn to face Johnny, certain steam has to be rising off your body at this point. You shove the pile of panties into his hands, including the one with skulls on them. “We’re getting them.” You say, trying to ignore the grin pulling at his lips.
You take half a second to breathe as the tension in the air is cut off, another shopper passing by, giving the three of you a look. You’re sure you’re projecting your scent, and you can imagine just how much Simon’s scent has taken over the store.
Johnny carries the armful of lingerie to the checkout and you follow behind him, Simon bending down to whisper something in his ear before heading for the door. You watch him step outside, moving until he’s just visible through the glass from the register. You have half a mind to follow him, half a mind to confront him and ask him for an explanation, ask him why he felt it necessary to hold you at arm’s length when there’s a chance he’s been feeling this way the whole time.
You don’t, instead sticking close to Johnny’s side as he pays far too much for the lingerie. Your heart is still racing from the exchange with Simon, your hands shaking just a little as Johnny hands you the bag. His hand is warm on your back as he guides you from the store, Simon turning as you approach him.
“Let’s grab somethin’ to eat, then we’ll go.” Johnny says, leading you back towards the car.
“We need to talk.”
You almost turn tail and run as Simon’s gaze snaps up to meet yours. He sits there, frozen for just a moment, before he slowly lowers his phone, sliding it into his sweatshirt pocket. You don’t sit down on the couch next to him, instead you remain standing, wanting to keep the energy in the room in your favor. You know if you sit, your brain will slip into submission to the large alpha. At least looking down on him, you have more of a chance at keeping that illusion of dominance.
“I want to know how long.” You say, taking half a step closer to him, one foot planted, the other half raised, ready to bolt in case this goes south. “I want to know how long you’ve had feelings for me.”
His gaze hardens as he stares up at you, and despite your position of dominance, you wish he’d take off his mask just so you could read his face, read his reactions. You can’t back down, though. Not now, not when things have come to a head between you. There’s no going back, there’s no playing pretend anymore. You can’t move on after the events earlier in the lingerie shop.
“I want to know the truth.” You say, not backing down. You won’t submit to him so easily this time.
“When you punched that asshole Corporal.” He says, looking away from you to stare at the black screen of the television. “Allen. Proved you weren’t just some weak, pathetic omega that was only going to slow us down, make us work twice as hard to keep you alive.” He snorts softly. “That first night with Johnny.” He continues, his voice softer than it had been. “That’s when it changed. He yapped the whole morning about what happened, what you two did, like a bloody slag.”
Your face warms at the idea of Johnny spilling all the intimate details. It doesn’t upset you as much as it probably should, though it wasn’t like they couldn’t all hear it happening. Simon especially, sharing a wall with him. He probably could have recounted the whole thing himself if he’d wanted to.
“I wanted to hate you. Fucking tried so hard to, but you make it so bloody hard.” He shakes his head. “I’m not supposed to.”
A frown pulls at your brows as you listen to him. As an alpha in the pack, he technically could if he wanted to. You’re certain John wouldn’t have a problem with it, in fact he might encourage it, if it gets rid of the stick that’s been up Simon’s ass since your arrival, or maybe even before then.
“I-I don’t understand.” You say, stepping closer to him.
“I can’t.” He snaps, wheeling around to face you. You freeze in your approach, your weight shifting back in case you need to run. “I can’t.” He repeats, his voice softer, the tenseness in his shoulders deflating as he diverts his gaze. “It’s too dangerous.”
Your frown deepens as you stare at him. “What do you mean?”
“I’ll only hurt you.” He shakes his head.
You understand it now. Those four words have given you all the explanation you need to understand his hesitation, his predicament, why it’s taken him this long to openly admit his feelings, to accept them.
You bravely continue your approach until you’re standing right next to him. His gaze is anywhere but on you, seeming very small despite his hulking size. “You’re not going to hurt me.” You say, slowly reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder. “I know you won’t. If...if you’re worried about turning out like your father, then that’s enough proof that you won’t. You know, you’re aware, so you can stop it.” He goes to turn away, but you stop him, catching his wrist in your hand. “We don’t have to. If you’re not comfortable enough then that’s okay. I have that need filled plenty.” You plop down on the couch next to him as you lift his hand to your face, pressing his bare palm into your skin. “But I wouldn’t stop you, if you wanted to.”
His hand is big and warm as it slowly relaxes against your face. His eyes meet yours, staring deep into them. You stare right back, not letting his size or the intensity of his gaze force you to submit. His thumb drags along your cheekbone, his calluses scratching across your skin, but that’s a feeling you’ve become very used to. You press your hand against his, your fingers trembling just slightly from the emotion and the intensity of the moment.
“It’s not just me that might hurt you. I’ve made enemies, people that would do anything to get back at me.” He says quietly.
You shrug. “So does everyone in this pack. That was a risk I was made well aware of before I was sent here. That’s why I don’t know jack shit about what any of you do. That’s why I’m basically non-existent and invisible except to a select few. I used to think about it, when I first arrived here. What if something happened to me because of your jobs? What if someone found out about me?” You shrug again, your thumb rubbing the back of his hand. “That’s a risk we all signed up for, right?”
He stares at you for a while, his hand still pressed against your cheek. You wish you could read his mind, see the thoughts turning those wheels behind his eyes. You wish he was an open book, something you could breeze right through like the ones on the shelves. Instead, he might be the most closed off person you’ve ever met. You’ve never even seen his face
Slowly he begins leaning forward, his gaze never leaving yours. If it hadn’t been for the mask, you might have thought he was leaning in for a kiss. You might have leaned in for a kiss, had he not been wearing the mask. Instead he leans forward until your foreheads are touching, his gaze finally leaving yours as his eyes flutter closed. You finally relax yourself, melting into him slightly as you sit there, breathing in the quiet moment. Something’s shifting, something’s changing between the two of you.
You’re not quite sure how it’s going to end, but you can’t deny the bond beginning to form between you and Simon.
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#call of duty#call of duty fic#poly 141 x reader#tf 141 x reader#Simon ghost Riley x reader#Simon Riley x reader#John price x reader#captain price x reader#Kyle gaz Garrick x reader#gaz x reader#John soap mactavish x reader#soap x reader#alpha/beta/omega dynamics#a/b/o#omegaverse
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“Overheard.”
— in which you practice your confession to him, and he hears.
“Satoru... I like you.”
Falling in love is hard.
You throw your head back in exasperation, a sigh pushing past your lips and into the emptiness of your room.
“Satoru,” You begin again, glaring at your reflection, “I think if the Earth exploded tommorow I would- No that’s pathetic!”
But falling in love with an enigma such as Satoru Gojo is harder.
Especially when he was your Co-Worker and friend, and not one for blind vulnerability in any capacity.
Something you were devastated by perfectly ok with!
You place your thumb in your mouth and chew on the nail, frustrated at your lack of articulation.
Your lingering stares, and pathetic attempts to subtly flirt with him, appeared to backfire in a mirage of deflection from the sorcerer.
Leading you to the bitter conclusion that your feelings were entirely unrequited.
And that’s fine.
Everything is fine.
You would be fine.
…
You turn back to the mirror, lifting your head up and throwing on a smile.
“Gojo- No- Satoru, me and you? What about it? You in?”
God. You sound insane.
Even worse you sound desperate.
You thought your feelings for Gojo would dissipate with time, that you would realise that they stemmed purely from admiration and would vanish as fast as they first appeared.
But as you grew closer to Gojo, your feelings grew too.
Culminating into him, holding your hand to reassure you after a mission went askew.
Holding it.
With no barriers. No infinity.
His hand was warm, the palm soft with years of fighting without touch.
“Don’t worry ‘bout it ‘kay?” He had said, cooing at you as you furiously wiped frustrated tears from your eyes.
“Just focus on getting stronger, yea? You’ll be fine.”
And now you were fantasising your confession to the man, like you were 16 years old again, pouting about an unreturned crush.
One touch and you’re helpless to your own feelings, your own heart.
How childish…
You shake your head.
What did it matter anyway? You were never going to say it to him, you can let yourself have your own, embarrassing fun.
You grin, and resume your position before the mirror.
“Satoru, I really, really like you.”
You tilt your head.
“No that sounds wrong..uh…Gojo I like you..like a lot- But you don’t need to say anything I just wanted you to know.”
Placing your hands on your hips, you assess out loud; “I wonder which one would sound better..”
“I liked the first one best.”
You nod, lost in thought, “Me too, sounds more person-”
.
.
.
Oh God.
Oh please God no.
Slowly, you move your eyes from your face in the reflection to the door, where Gojo stands, leaning against the frame, a smug look on his face.
Your face flushes and you almost trip over your heel as you spin to face him, eyes wide and mouth parted.
“G-Gojo!” You force out, your heart racing in your chest, your hands trembling against your sides.
He gestures, his sunglasses sliding down his nose ever so slightly with his movements.
“You not gonna continue?” He asks, like he didn’t almost just cause you heart palpitations, like it’s the simplest thing in the world.
Your words fail you, and you’re left gaping at him, wishing the building would collapse and crush you beneath it, away from his stupidly pretty eyes.
He laughs, his face lighting up as he watches you flounder for a response, a reason, anything to justify your absurdism.
When you resort to turning back around, unable to face him, hoping he would just vanish from the room, he shakes his head and walks towards you.
“Hey.” Gojo says gently, pinching the skin of your shoulder lightly, trying to coax you into turning around.
“Y/N c’mon, Iook at me.”
You want to die.
You actually think you might just drop dead.
This was never the plan- You were never supposed to-
Gojo isn’t patient.
You remember this when you’re spun around to face him, nearly jumping at how close he is to you.
You find your voice amongst your apologies, and they fall out of you like water collecting rain.
“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to say any of that, I was being stupid- Oh my God I’m so sorry.”
You hang your head in childish shame, refusing to meet his eyes.
Gojo finds himself frowning.
And your chin is raised back to his gaze by his fingers, an usually serious look in his eyes as he observes you.
“What are you apologising for hm?” He sticks out his tongue, “For falling for me?”
You push his chest, your face burning.
“Don’t say it like that.”
“What? It’s not true?”
“It’s not.”
Gojo blinks at you from over the top of his sunglasses, before taking his hand and patting your head.
“So if I ask you to join me for lunch…You’d say no?”
“What? No of course not!”
Your response is too fast, too desperate, and you freeze as he laughs, humiliated.
“I thought as much.” Gojo replies, leaning down to look you in your eyes.
And he’s so pretty up close, so earnestly perfect that you can barely stand it.
“Say it again yea?” He all but whispers, his voice devoid of cockiness, you’re almost certain he sounds as desperate as you.
You refuse to think too much.
“What?” You reply, dumbly.
“Your practice, I want to hear it again.”
“Gojo I-”
“Satoru.” He corrects, his eyes crinkling with his grin, you can feel his breath on your face and you hold yourself back from leaning towards him.
You’re silent for a moment, before he tilts his head, nodding at you to continue.
It’s ok.
“Satoru,” You start, breaking eye contact with him as you look down at your fidgeting hands, “I like you.”
And you feel so unbelievably childish, at your nerves.
You feel weak to his never failing gaze.
Until he pokes your nose softly with his finger, and leans down to reply, too close, he’s far too close.
“Yea?” He echoes, “You like me?”
You nod, helpless, “So much Satoru.”
And then you feel it.
His lips on yours.
Oh.
And it’s wonderful, it’s all consuming and it’s him.
And you kiss back, feeling his hands on your face, and encasing you, holding you.
Gojo tilts your head up, and you can’t help but gasp, letting him devour you.
He tastes of cherries and sugar, his mouth as warm as his grasp, as he brings you closer.
“God baby.” He mumbles into your mouth, “You have no idea.”
He sounds frantic you think.
You pull away to look at him, and giggle when he follows you, trying to recapture your lips with his, pouting, tracing the sides of your temples with a finger.
You’re both breathless.
And you take the opportunity to be bold.
You press a kiss to his jaw, ignoring the racing of your poor heart.
Gojo smirks, a dumb elated expression on his face as he pulls you into his chest, resting his chin on the top of yours. Blocking your view of his face as he whispers.
“Think it goes without saying.” You hear him say, slowly, “But I like you too Y/N.” He mocks, his voice soft.
And you cling to his shirt, and press your fingers into his back as a response, trying to mark him as yours instantaneously.
He laughs again, before pulling away to hold you at an arms length, looking down at you, his face beautiful, and yours.
“Lunch then? So we can talk about this properly?”
“I’d like that.” You say, your eyes in hearts.
He winks at you, and pulls you to walk with him, leading you out of the room.
You lean against him allowing yourself a moment of vindicated clarity.
He’s warm.
So, so warm.
Feel free to leave a request <3
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A/N- i hate my life. i’m trying not to spoil anything for anyone, but chapter 261 has ruined my life! i wrote this just to make myself better and because a lovely anon asked me to write something comforting and fluffy <3 thank u for reading i love u i love u i love u and i hope everyone is ok <3
#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#jjk gojo#jjk leaks#gojo satoru x reader#jjk#gojo comfort#hurt/comfort#i miss you gojo#gojo fluff#gojo smut
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hi love! i absolutely adore ur writing and u should be so so proud of it. anyway i was just thinking about coworker james when readers car wont start in the parking lot and he like takes a look at it and is under the hood and reader is just like "oh...😍" cause the muscles are OUT and shes down bad
ty lovely 💌 fem
“Oh,” you say, “of course.”
You drop your face into your steering wheel and sigh. An annoyed burst of sound, not cute or feminine or fun, a grunt of defeat. This sucks. Work sucks, life sucks, your car not starting is the least of your worries and yet somehow the most prevalent.
How am I gonna get home? you think to yourself, defeated.
“Hey!” someone calls. Jogging, the last person you want to see in the world right now stopping at your door. James frowns at you. “It’s not starting?”
You pop your door, careful not to pop him at the same time. “How’d you know?”
“I heard the engine turn over.”
“It’s making a clicking sound,” you say, twisting the key so he can hear it.
“It’s dead, probably. Your battery.”
James has an odd way of talking occasionally, as though you’ve started a conversation and he’s adding onto it. Remus says it's ADHD. You like it no matter what it is and despite yourself —it’s getting harder to pretend you don’t like him. Like, you hate him, he’s annoying beyond explanation, but your more positive feelings for him are heavy and ever present. So, so heavy.
“I’ll pull my car up and we can give it a jumpstart,” he says. “Easy fix.”
“You don’t have to go?”
“What?”
“You have rugby today.”
“Oh, no, it's the off season now.” He smiles and you don’t get why. “Let me go get the car.”
James jogs back to his car and brings it next to yours. Everybody who isn’t Human Resources or security has left already, leaving the car park practically empty, ample room for him to park beside you. He gets back out.
“I don’t have, uh, cables,” you say.
James gives you a smile that is as patronising as it is attractive. “Don’t worry about it, beautiful. I have everything you need.”
He feels along the edge of your hood, pops the seal, pushes it up into the air, and hooks the prop rod into place. He’s clearly done it before, and the whole while you’re watching his arm. His rolled sleeves draw attention to the tightness at his bicep, and the moving ligament and muscle of his tricep as he leans into the engine to look things over. “I’m no mechanic, but I do know everything, and I thought maybe things were a bit hot but your engine’s stone cold.”
“So it’s definitely the battery?”
“Probably.” He scratches his jaw, peering curiously into the guts of it all. “When was the last time somebody looked in here?” he asks, squinting at you, unaware that he’s the finest thing you’ve ever seen.
Your breath gets caught.
“Have you ever had it looked at?” he asks, concerned.
“I… maybe I did. I think so.”
“You’re supposed to have it looked at every year? For MOT?”
“I know, I thought you meant before that.” He’s distracting.
James looks you over. “It’s fine,” he says emphatically, “even if I can’t fix your battery, I can still drive you home. You’re panicking for no reason.”
“Right.” Panicking! Yes, this is panic.
“Listen, can you get the jump leads from my boot? I have to open the hood.” He gestures for you to go. You do as he’s asked, wobbly, and struggle when you get there to actually open it. You slides your fingers under his car's emblem and flinch as it flies up past your face.
His boot is surprisingly well organised. There’s a duffel bag to one side half-zipped that showcases a flash of red and white uniform, a pair of formal shoes, a dark jacket folded and hidden behind the bag. You want to be nosey and you don’t want him to think you’re stupid. You rush to grab the cables and almost clip yourself on the boot as you duck from under the boot and round the car.
James smiles when he sees you. No indication that you’re an imposition, it’s sort of like you’re two friends.
He pushes his sleeves farther up and digs in. It’s awful, what business does he have looking so sharply put together? You hadn’t thought you were preferential to muscle until right this moment watching James move around your engine like an expert.
“What are your plans tonight?”
Your palms are hot behind your back. “I was thinking I’d watch a new movie.”
“That sounds fun.” He ducks away from the engine. “I don’t watch many movies.”
“What do you do with all your time?”
“Argue with Sirius about who’s turn it is to wash the dishes.”
You startle. “You and Sirius live together?”
James laughs and pulls the leads to his own engine. “You didn’t know that?”
“You come in different cars.”
“I come in much earlier than he does. And after work he and Remus always have things to do. It’s weird, isn’t it, how couples are always busy? I feel like I never do anything.” James grins at you. “This is interesting, at least. My Friday night isn’t a total waste.”
James gets into his car and you into yours. With some fiddling, pleading, and a strange noise, he manages to push life back into your car. His smile when it works is his worst one to date, elated and shockingly handsome.
That Monday, against your better judgement, you bring him a little carrot cake in a tin. A thank you card felt like too much.
To his credit, he doesn’t brag to anyone that he saved you. He says thank you for the cake with another real smile, and for some reason, despite the mild weather, he rolls his sleeves up at his desk. Almost like he noticed you…
Well, he couldn’t have. Right?
#james potter#james potter x reader#james potter x fem!reader#james potter x y/n#james potter x you#james potter fic#james potter fluff#james potter blurb#james potter drabble#james potter imagine#james potter fanfic#james potter fanfiction#james potter scenario#james potter oneshot#the marauders#marauders era#marauders
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do you believe me now? | 6
in which spencer reid and inexperienced!fem reader are finally honest with each other. complete with tears and more than a few make-up kisses.
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this series is 18+
warnings/tags: angst but mostly fluff, i think this qualifies as hurt/comfort, HHEHHEHHEH, lots of kissing, so cheesy, you jokingly imply he's a slut, i need him expeditiously
a/n: thank you guys for being patient with me!! ilysm!! i edited this until i hated it but i hope it's satisfactory for YOU guys..... as always please please let me know what you think!! and i already started the next part hehehe
The car ride is the worst of your life.
Neither of you speak.
And you find yourself wishing, pleading to god that one of you will say something to fix this—but each minute ticks by and the streets get familiar and a quiet song ends and you realize you were silly to ever think a twenty minute car ride would change anything.
Spencer was the luckiest you’d ever been and your relationship is floating away like a balloon you forgot to hold on to—nothing more than a red dot lost to the vast blue.
Maybe for him it’s easier. You’re pretty sure it is, as you risk one or two glances at his unreadable profile that turn into lingering, obsessive looks because you’re panicking and realizing you’ll maybe never see him this close again. It’s funny and terrible how quickly you’re remembering what it was like to see him at the coffee shop for the first time—how he was nothing but a beautiful stranger, completely unknown to you and worlds away. Now you’ve had him, sort of, and you’re turning into the girl who could never have him all over again.
When he turns onto your street reality begins to sink in. Your heart is a short fuse inside your chest as he pulls into a spot and parks the car. The rumble of the engine cuts. The headlights stay on.
For a moment, everything is quiet. You wish you could insert your own reality into the silence—one where you’re simply enjoying each other’s company and there’s no sense of impending doom to take your breath away.
“Do you want to talk?” Spencer asks, looking pointedly ahead where the lights shine off the back of some other person’s car. A wayward moth dips and swirls into the high beams. You watch Spencer track it with his eyes.
“I’m not sure what to say,” you admit quietly. The weight of everything you’d like to say sits in your stomach like lead, too heavy to divulge. It’s only been a few weeks of having to carry the truth around with you and your muscles are already fatiguing. The idea of carrying it around indefinitely makes your eyes sting. You’re already exhausted.
Maybe a stronger person would find that last bit of energy to make a final push, to save the relationship just before it falls apart.
But you never claimed to be strong.
Deep down, you must’ve known you weren’t ready for a real relationship. You can’t handle all of this pretending to be okay with things that hurt. Even if that's the grown-up thing to do.
“I tried. I really did, I’m sorry—I’m—”
Before you can get the words out your throat tightens around them and you bury your face in your hands.
The sound of his seatbelt unlocking and whirring back surprises you—but you’re even more surprised when he undoes yours. Still, you move your arm so it can snap back into place and then he’s pulling you into him.
“It’s okay,” he murmurs, one hand on the back of your head as you lean over the small gap between the seats, unable to stop yourself from shedding more tears. “It’s not your fault. I’m sorry.”
He’s sorry.
For not loving you?
If it’s not your fault he doesn’t love you back—then whose fault is it? Who’ll take the fall?
But still, he’s holding you so carefully, like you’re made of porcelain. Something to be protected. Or at the very least, something to be mourned even after it’s in pieces.
As you lean against him, lulled by the slow in and out of his breath, the inverse of yours, and the way he slips his thumb over the back of your hair in silence for a few minutes—you wonder what’s missing. Why he’s not satisfied.
“I don’t understand you.”
The words come out flat, muffled by his coat, garbled with leftover tears.
“What was that?” Spencer asks gently, still playing with your hair. You sniffle, adjusting your head so your cheek is to his shoulder and your lips are no longer smushed.
“I just… I want you to explain it to me.”
“Explain what?”
You sit up just enough to meet his eyes. The movement seems to take him by surprise, but he keeps his hands on you—one slipping to your cheek and the other still loyal to your back. He brushes his fingers over the delicate skin beneath your eye and you cover them with your own in an effort to get him to stop treating you so kindly. But even now, when you’re mad at him for being so gentle in the way that he hurts you, you can’t help but seek the familiar callus on the side of his trigger finger. It’s an odd thing to anticipate missing, but you’ll miss all of him. You can’t imagine holding a hand without that familiar anomaly—a cairn to show you where he’s been and who you’re holding.
He curls his warm hand around yours and you hold your joined fist out for him in emphasis, speaking louder than either of you were prepared for.
“This! You! I understand that we don’t feel the same way about each other and maybe I can’t change that. But then you do this and I don’t understand why. I don’t understand why this isn’t enough for you, because it’s enough for me, and I just—I don’t know what else I can give you. I don’t know what else there is. I don’t understand why I’m not... enough.” The tears are back and flowing freely, but you forge breathlessly ahead, because you’ve finally found a way to be honest and you’re not going to stop now. Spencer is frowning, lips parted and clearly confused or shocked or something, but you continue your confessional before he has the chance to interrupt. “I want to be enough, but you didn’t even give me the chance, and I don’t think it’s fair that we’re breaking up when you didn’t let me try. Maybe if you just told me, if you explained what’s missing I could fix it and you could love me back, and—please. I just want to try. Please, Spencer.”
A car engine revs somewhere far away, echoing down the street. It reverberates for several seconds, unimpeded by any other noise. Any word, any breath.
His voice is thin when he responds a moment later, still studying your face with a kind of scrutiny that is so indecipherable you don’t know how you expect him to respond.
“Love you back?”
You blink.
Your stomach drops.
For all that you’d revealed, for all that you’d willingly humiliated yourself with your pathetic supplication—you’d meant to keep that four letter word to yourself.
What a way to make an exit from your relationship.
Spencer is still looking at you, keeping you pinned to your seat, and as much as you wish it wasn’t the case he’s not going to let you off the hook this time. He’s going to demand an answer, and you have a 0% chance of bursting into mist before you have to provide an explanation, so you have no choice but to say something.
What, exactly, you’re going to say—you don’t know.
“I didn’t…”
“You didn’t mean it.”
The response comes so quickly, sharp as a slap, that you jump back slightly, a deep frown twisting your brow. Spencer makes no effort to keep his hand in yours as you slip from his grasp.
“That’s not what I was—”
“Just say what you mean.” Silence. “Tell me.”
It’s like he’s got an ice pick to your chest. It’s like he wants you to humiliate yourself even further, to punish you for your messy indiscretions.
“Spencer…”
It’s a warning. You’re giving him a chance to stop this before he hurts you sadistically. Before he becomes unrecognizable.
He swallows.
“Please.” And then, a second later, when you’re still trying to process the quiet pain in his voice and suddenly faced with the unexpected question of who is hurting who, “please, just… tell me if you meant it.”
For the first time tonight, you notice how exhausted he looks. Slightly gaunt, even paler than usual. Shadows pool deeper in the hollows of his face. His eyes look glossy, dark crescents below awaiting to catch tears you realize you’ve never seen fall. The tonal shift has you so disoriented, so out of your body like you’re seeing yourself in his own injuries—the truth becomes the only humane answer. Even if it hurts you.
“Yes. I meant it. You know I mean it.”
“I don’t know that,” he says on a shaky exhale. “How would I know that?”
And he’s got the ice pick back at your sternum. It’s tipped in poison. The mallet trembles in the air. So does your voice.
“You told me you didn’t feel the same. You said it was new for me and different and I was going to make things complicated and you treated me like I was a stupid kid, and—and it doesn’t even matter. This was dumb. I’m sorry I said anything, I don’t… I don’t know what I’m doing. I just.. I can’t do this.”
You’re about to open the door, every muscle tense as you wonder what the hell is wrong with you. What reduced you to the weepy, pathetic girl, begging a boy to love her despite knowing it doesn’t work like that—the same girl you’ve looked down your nose at in every film and TV show and in every high school and college hallway since you learned what self-superiority meant. Before you knew exactly what it felt like to be her.
“Wait.”
He says your name.
And of course you pause.
You want a reason to stay. If you had more self-respect, you wouldn’t. But you know you’ll give him as many chances to give you an excuse as he’s willing to take. You knew that before your fingers met the metal of the door handle.
“Just—hold on a second. Can you look at me?”
You sniffle and wipe your eyes with the heel of your palm before turning around to face him once more. You wonder if anyone will ever have the kind of power he has over you ever again.
The despair leaves only wisps of itself on his face—mostly he looks like he’s thinking hard about something. It’s jarring.
“You’re talking about our phone call on Sunday, right?”
You nod petulantly with a quick teary eye-roll because obviously that’s what you’re talking about.
Something lights in his own dark eyes as he inhales, parts his lips as if to speak, and stops himself again. Like he’s got news that he’s not sure how to break.
“The things I said, on that call… I wasn’t talking… about you.”
Your insides feel like tangled yarn as you stare at him uncomprehendingly.
“I mean, I was. I was talking about us. But not in the way you think, it was—” he stops, rubbing his eyes and taking a frazzled breath. “I know what it’s like to be the one who cares more. I have to assume that I’m the one who cares more because when I don’t, I ruin things. And with you, I felt like—the stakes were so high, and I thought it’d be safer for me to not say anything until I knew you felt the same. But I know that’s not fair to you so I tried to tell you over the phone that if you didn’t feel the same way it was okay. And now I’m—I’m realizing the way I phrased it was incredibly unclear and misleading, and somehow I fucked it up in a completely new way. But I wasn’t referring to you. I just didn’t want you to feel stuck with someone who can’t give you casual when you have so much ahead of you. I had no idea you felt that way about me. And I am so, so sorry that I hurt you. I never meant for that to happen.”
You blink.
And for some reason, begin sobbing.
Spencer freezes for a moment, then tells you to stay there and you barely have the capacity to wonder what he means as you hear his own door opening then slamming shut again. A moment later he’s on the passenger side, opening your door and leaning in.
“Hey,” he whispers, gently pulling your hands from your face and making you turn your head to look at him. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. But that’s good news, right? Why all the tears, lovely? What’s wrong? Please talk to me.”
You take a shuddering breath.
“This is all my fault, I ruined everything because I was too scared to tell you before and now—and now—”
Stroking your cheeks to wipe away the tears is a futile effort because they just keep coming, but Spencer does it anyway, and he speaks so kindly, so evenly it somehow hurts deeper.
You were terrible to him. And he had been prepared to accept that. He thought you didn’t love him, and he was still willing to be the subject of all your cryptic frostiness and inexplicable cruelty.
“It is not your fault. You didn’t ruin anything. I’m still right here. We’re okay.”
“But we’re breaking up, and—and I was so mean to you. That’s not okay, Spencer.”
You finally look at him. He’s close, eyes warm and wide as he looks directly into your own teary gaze, shaking his head earnestly.
“You were confused, honey. So was I. It was just a misunderstanding. But… I know I was unkind to you. I cannot express how sorry I am for that, and the last thing I want is for us to break up, but if you think that’s what’s best, I’ll… I’ll understand.”
His voice is dangerously thin by the end, strained with impending tears of his own. But he’s eternally kind—backlit by the streetlamps and beautiful like an angel. Whatever you want, he’ll give you. Even if it’s this.
“I don’t want that. I don’t.” You sigh, closing your eyes briefly against the world as you realize the impending breakup had been a delusion all along. That you were going to let your insecurities and some sick pride end the relationship for you. All that despair had been for nothing. Or—maybe not nothing. You realize he still hasn’t said it back. But you won’t be a coward. It’s not worth losing him. You open your eyes. “I just—I want us to be on the same page. And if you don’t love me yet or if you don’t wanna say it, or if you can’t, I get it—it’s okay, but if you don’t could you maybe just tell me? So that I’ll know—”
Before you can process it Spencer is leaning in, head angled to accommodate you, pressing his lips to yours so softly your breath catches and your stomach flips. Maybe softer than he ever has before, and it’s like taking a deep breath after holding it through a dark tunnel. You exhale a tentatively soft sigh against him, releasing air you don't have along with the fraught tension in most of your body. All too quickly he’s pulling away, hands still cupping your cheeks and thumbs stroking over your skin. When he speaks it’s not quite a whisper, but secret-soft.
“How could I not be so in love with you?”
Suddenly you can feel the world turning underneath you. Or maybe you’re just dizzy from lack of oxygen. Either way it feels good. A drop of warmth makes a splash in your stomach and slowly spreads through every vein and capillary until you’re sure you’re glowing gold.
“Really?”
“Of course really. I’m—” he takes a breath of his own, and you realize how difficult this must be after what happened the last time he professed his love for a girl. Your chest aches for him. His voice is low and solicitous, but it wavers slightly. “I should have told you sooner. I wanted to, but I was worried—I was worried the way I felt for you was… too much. I am so in love with you it scares me. I still don’t know what to say or how to act around you. When I’m gone, sometimes I imagine quitting my job, just so I can come home and see you sooner. When I have a gun in my hands, I start thinking about all the things I would do to keep you safe, or—or just because you asked me to. And if what you wanted was for me to leave you alone, I would have done that. If you wanted me to drop everything and everyone to be with you I would have done that. And I know you’d never ask those things of me. But any of them, I’d do in a heartbeat. Which is… it’s a little scary, huh?”
The final sentence is a nervous self-effacing chuckle, which you can match in sound only—one breathy attempt at a laugh from your slackened jaw.
When that’s the only response you can manage, he clears his throat.
“Too honest?”
You shake your head as if in a fog.
“No. Not too honest. But I’m just… I’m trying not to cry again.”
He smooths over your hair fondly. His own eyes are shiny and full of wonder as he studies you for a short while, like you're doing something much more awe-inspiring than sniffling in the passenger seat of his car. Then one hand is dropped to your shoulder and the other braced against your seat back. Finally, he pulls back to a more reasonable distance with a shaky sigh. It’s a sound of relief. You want to hug him, and all the past hims who have ever been hurt by anyone.
“You, um—you need to rehydrate. Do you have anything that will rebalance your electrolytes? If you don’t I can go to the store—”
“You don’t need to do that,” you assure him with a small, watery laugh, loosely grabbing the wrist that brushes your shoulder.
“But you need to take care of yourself. And I know you haven’t been drinking enough water because you never do.”
There’s a lingering overwrought shakiness to his voice, but it’s still the most relaxed he’s sounded since he came home, and you realize that the worst is behind you. The storm that you’d been so sure you couldn’t weather is somehow clearing up.
“I can’t believe we almost just broke up.”
He hangs his head, dropping it to the curve of your neck and groaning.
“Don’t say that. Let’s not think about that right now. Just—” when he raises his head again, and shakes it slightly to get his hair out of his eyes, they’ve cleared, like he’s on a mission to change the subject. “Let’s go upstairs. Will you let me take care of you?”
You give him an exaggerated nod, still sniffing, and the smile that grows on his face is like seeing the sun rise above the ocean. You love his smile. You love him.
Spencer kisses you on the cheek.
“Okay. Let me lock the car and then we can go up.”
As soon as you get into your apartment and turn on the light Spencer goes to the kitchen. It’s a small unit, but antique and nice enough, though you prefer Spencer’s. There’s still some tension as you observe him filling a glass with water, kicking your boots off by the door—but not necessarily the bad kind. You’re not sure exactly what it is.
“Where are you going?” He asks as you pass the kitchen area to turn on a standing lamp in the opposite corner of the room.
“I don’t like the big light.” A warm glow emanates through stained glass as you flick it on.
“I know that. I just didn’t realize it was a higher priority than your wellbeing.” His tone is sardonic but he’s already switching off the overhead lighting for you. You give him a wry smirk as you finally approach and take the proffered glass from his waiting hand.
“Ambience over everything, baby.”
His brows pinch at the cavalier sentiment—you never call him baby, so you're sure he knows it’s a joke—and he shakes his head with a humorous little huff of air through his nose, watching as you drink deeply. Your hand is shaking. Spencer notices and covers it with both of his, taking the half empty glass with one and grabbing your hand with the other.
“Adrenaline,” he murmurs, kissing your knuckles. “It’ll go away soon. Did you get enough?”
You nod, smiling small but genuinely. Emotionally exhausted or not, you’re happy.
Spencer strays, not far, to set the glass on the counter. Then he turns to face you, bracing his palms on the ledge and just watching you for a moment with the kind of smile that makes you nervous in the best way.
He beckons you to him with nothing more than a quick tilt of his head, and you shuffle across the floor in your socks til you’re toe to toe. Without your shoes on, he feels much taller. Still he just watches you for a moment—not that you mind. Your view isn’t half-bad. The faint warm glow from the lamp casts shadows over his face, highlighting all the perfect angles, deep brown eyes framed by dark lashes, and lips that still make you feel like a girl with a crush when you look at him. His hair is getting long. You’re unreasonably glad you still get to look at him like this.
“Hi,” you whisper—something about the intimate dark of the room feels like a place for secrets.
“Hi, pretty.” Spencer tucks hair behind your ear, eyes soft wherever they focus on your face like if he even looks at you too sharply you might break. “Have I told you how much I missed you while I was gone?”
He knows he hasn’t.
“Even when I was being a heinous bitch?”
Spencer laughs and it makes you smile too. The way his smile changes the landscape of his whole face will never feel any less like observing a natural phenomenon. It’s unfair how beautiful he is, and how you’re keeping him all to yourself in the dark on the fourth floor of an apartment building in DC.
“Even then. Not sure that’s the wording I would have used.”
“I missed you too,” you admit softly.
He maps your face with wandering eyes like he’s done a hundred times. Vaguely you wonder if he sees the same kind of beauty in you that you see in him. If he sees landmarks in your flaws and stars beyond the observable universe in your eyes.
Spencer sweeps your hair over your shoulder, fingertips grazing your neck.
“Can I kiss you?” He murmurs.
Butterflies fill your stomach and you nod shyly, unsure of what would come out if you tried to speak.
His free hand settles on your lower back and brings you into him until you’re chest to chest. With his other on your jaw, he bows his head, and you angle yours up, allowing your eyes to flutter shut.
Spencer kisses you so gently it aches in your chest, still cupping your face and stroking your cheek. You can’t help wrapping your arms around his middle—before he’s pulling away far too soon.
And he’s laughing.
“What were you drinking?”
You frown, flustered and trying to remember a time before his lips were on yours.
“Water.”
“Before that, baby. At the bar.”
You think back even further, head muddled even more by the endearment so that it takes you a moment to recall.
“A Shirley Temple. Derek brought it to me. Why? Is that bad?”
“No,” he says, still smiling as his lips brush yours. “You’re perfect. You taste like candy. It’s cute.”
Oh. You feel warm as he presses another kiss to your lips—and this time you insist on him staying awhile. He’s happy to oblige.
Spencer kisses you soft and careful at first, and then deeper, but still so slow, until you can’t help the way you’re bunching the fabric of his shirt between your fingers and rising on your toes to try and get impossibly closer. He kisses you the way you’ve been needing him to since he left, long and unhurried and sweet—and takes everything you give him, siphoning away all your leftover turmoil and angst until you’re weightless. You’re deprived of oxygen, you’re dizzy, and you don’t care at all.
“I love you,” you breathe against him before he captures your lips again with a hum that flips your stomach, his hand rubbing over your hip.
“Say it again,” he mutters against your mouth a second later, brushing hair away from your face.
It comes out a little mumbled this time between kisses, but it comes out all the same.
“Love you.”
He sighs into you—relief that mirrors your own.
“I love you.”
It seems like the kind of thing that will never stop sounding perfect from his lips.
A final deep kiss shortens into a series of smaller ones, and then he’s pulling away slowly, brushing the corner of your mouth affectionately.
Both of you require a few deep breaths—a moment to let your sparkling eyes wildly chart each familiar curve and convex and shade and shadow of the other’s face—before either of you can speak. Spencer breaks the silence first.
“I’m sorry.”
You frown, stirred from your brainless bliss by his unexpected apology.
“For what?”
The fiery glow in his eyes dampens slightly.
“For what I said at the bar.”
Oh.
That.
It feels like a lifetime away—memories seen through someone else’s eyes. Words like blows from a less familiar mouth.
You look away. For a while, you’d forgotten about that. Ideally he wouldn’t have reminded you.
At least he doesn’t make you look at him. He just strokes your hair, watching you examine the tiled counter. His voice is soft and soothing, like he’s appealing to a scared rabbit. Or maybe something angrier and with more teeth.
“You’re not immature, or badly behaved, or thoughtless. I was having an emotional reaction, I got defensive, and I lashed out. It was unfair and unkind of me to throw those things back in your face when I know how much trust it takes for you to be vulnerable with me. There’s nothing I can say or do that will adequately make up for that, but I want you to understand that I didn’t say any of it because it was the truth. I said it because I didn’t understand how you were feeling and I was hurt. I was insecure and I acted juvenile. I am so, so sorry, honey. You don’t have to forgive me, but you do need to know that none of it is true.”
Once you bite your lip long enough to be sure you won’t cry again, you speak.
“It’s okay,” you insist with a cheerfulness as natural as hard plastic, something in your chest twinging. “I was mean too. Like you said, we were both confused.”
“It is not. I made you cry.”
Sometimes you forget that he’s not like other people. He’ll never accept anything less than the barest truth. So you look back up at him and speak with a level of honesty that you hope satisfies him.
“I forgive you. You didn’t mean it. And I have insurance because Derek said he and Emily would kick your ass if you’re mean to me again.”
You hear the sad humor in his voice. His hand runs up and down your back.
“If I’m ever mean to you again, I personally invite you to kick my ass. And then let Derek and Emily have their turn.” He thumbs at your cheek, studying you in silence for a moment. “I can’t tell you how much I wish I could take it back.”
You stand up a little straighter. Spencer tracks you with his eyes, noting the way you smile slightly.
“You’ll find a way to make it up to me.”
“I’ll do anything for you,” he admits, barely a whisper and the truth of it so heavy you can feel it too.
But for tonight you can’t contend with more weight.
“You know what you could do right now?”
The mischief in your tone is obvious, and he hesitates, like he’s not sure he wants to let you move on from this so quickly. But eventually he plays along, pressing his thumb into the dip of your back and speaks lowly, just as you’d hoped he would.
“What’s that?”
You smile slyly.
“You could kiss me again.”
“Hm… I don’t know, three times in one night? Sounds a little excessive.”
“Do you want to be forgiven or not?” You huff. He smiles lazily, already dipping his head to press his lips to yours.
“I thought I was already forgiven.”
“Apologies can be retracted.”
“Ah.” His next words are mumbled as his lips ghost yours. “Well we wouldn’t want that.”
Spencer puts you out of your misery, not bothering to warm you up to it before he’s kissing you with a deep need. It’s still languid, and not hungry, exactly—it’s more like an aching, mind-numbing thirst. It’s all-consuming, overwhelming to have all of his burning focus pinpointed on you like this. Both hands come to cup your face and you wonder if he wants you in ways that he doesn’t entirely understand, just as you want him. You wonder if anything could possibly sate this desire to possess him completely and for him to possess you, to trade corporeal forms—or if it’s just something you’ll have to live with like a metaphysical itch you can’t scratch. As he forces you to tip your head back for him, using his height to his advantage, breathing deeply against you and attempting to push himself impossibly closer, you begin to think he understands exactly how you feel.
As soon as you’d sensed he wanted it, your lips had parted for him. He knows he could have any part of you. He knows how eager you are to give yourself to him. You’ve done everything to prove it, and yet you’ve never needed him quite like you do ask he pushes off the counter and slowly backs you against the wall, protecting your head with a hand as the paintings rattle ever so slightly. You gasp into his mouth and he kisses you greedier still, but his hands don’t stray from your cheeks.
Not until, that is, you hook your right leg around his left, and he catches it, fingers wrapping under the bend of your knee.
Never in your life have you regretted picking jeans rather than a skirt more than you do right now.
But to your disappointment, Spencer slows down to a halt—pulling his lips from yours like they’d been stuck by molasses until he’s far enough away to study you wildly, panting just as you are. His hair hangs over his smoldering eyes. He’s disheveled. It’s sexy.
“What?” You whisper, voice surprisingly hoarse.
He looses a dry, abashed laugh. The flush he’s sporting is incredibly charming.
“I’m supposed to be playing nice with you.”
Spencer says it like it’s a mild hindrance. Something frissons in your core. You smile a little wider as you continue to catch your breath, which seems to please him.
“Playing nice?”
“Being gentle. I’m not supposed to push my favorite things against walls when they’re delicate.”
Your face heats at the way he speaks of you—if it weren’t Spencer, if you didn’t know he really doesn’t think of you as an object, you’d be pissed. But instead all you can think about is how good it feels when he calls you his.
“According to who?”
His eyes dart between yours and then down to your lips several times before he averts them to the wall beside you with an intensity that could burn holes through the plaster. Is that how he looks at you?
“According to me. I think… god, you're going to hate me for this. But I think I need you to kick me out.”
You drop your leg at the same time as you do your heart.
“What?”
“I know,” he says, over-apologetically, “I know, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let that escalate. But we can’t… do anything tonight.” Before you can protest, he rushes to explain himself. “It’s just that it’s been a long day. It’s been a long week, actually, and I doubt either of us have slept very much, and I think you’re really drained, and probably not thinking super clearly. I don’t think you’re in the best place for decision making.”
You look pointedly down to where he still has you pressed to the wall.
“I think I’m in a great place.”
At that he steps back, but lets his hands find yours and pulls you away from the wall—just not quite as close as before. His nose bumps against yours as he speaks low and sweet.
“I understand that you want me to stay right now. But it’s not a good idea to associate fighting with physical pleasure. That can set some really dangerous patterns.”
“We’re not fighting,” you plead, matching his tone as you look up at him with big eyes. His fingers lace with yours.
“You’re right. Maybe fighting was the wrong word. But we had some pretty intense conversations today, didn’t we?”
Reluctantly you nod.
“Right,” he agrees. “Same premise. We need to be able to have those conversations without getting distracted.”
In a last ditch attempt to get him to change his mind, you give him your best approximation of the imploring, wide-eyed gaze he sometimes uses on you. Something not entirely smile and not entirely smirk twists the corners of his mouth. When he ducks down to kiss you quickly, you reciprocate, but you lack the enthusiasm of earlier.
“Hey.”
“Hm,” you respond, dejectedly.
“Don’t get all grumpy because I don’t put out.”
That puts a disgruntled little smile on your face as he probably knew it would.
“I guess you just gave it up easy to all those other women.”
He grabs your chin and gives you a final peck.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never been with other women.”
“Mhm,” you grumble good-naturedly, pushing away from him and going to the door to undo the deadbolt. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”
“Wow. I really must have overstayed my welcome if that’s the goodbye I get.”
You turn back around, brows raised.
“Oh, I was prepared to be very welcoming. This is your doing.”
“Uh-huh. Come here.”
Happily you skitter back across the few feet of wooden flooring and wrap your arms tightly around him one more time, pressing your cheek to his chest. He’s ready, winding his arms over yours and rubbing your back. It’s eerily similar, you realize as he presses his face into the concave of your shoulder, to when he’d left on that most recent case.
But at the same time—everything’s different.
And you won’t make the same mistake twice.
“Hey,” you smile, resting your head on his shoulder. Spencer pulls back to look at you, a similar grin on his face.
“Hey what?”
“I remembered what I was gonna say.”
The grin widens. He knows exactly what you’re talking about.
“Tell me.”
“I was going to tell you that I love you. And—I hope you’re not one of those people who’s uncomfortable being told that often. Because if that’s the case I’m really going to annoy you.”
“I’m not that kind of person,” he assures. “Tell me as often as you can.”
“But you should say it back. It’s more polite that way.”
“I love you,” he murmurs, in a voice more serious than your teasing tones had been but still soft and sweet around the edges. “You know, people talk about love as if it’s completely irrational and illogical. But with you… I think the world actually makes more sense than it used to. I understand things I never did before. You’ve taught me a lot.”
It’s like a lightshow in your stomach. You wonder if he has any idea the effect his casual musings have on you.
“You already knew everything.”
“Not everything,” Spencer whispers. “Not about the things that matter.”
And you’re fresh out of teases. All you can do is look up at him with big eyes again, in awe of the fact that you get to keep him after all.
“Will you text me when you get home?” You request, voice reverent in the wake of an admission you could never hope to top.
“I will. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
You nod, because it doesn’t even matter if you had other plans tomorrow. They’re as good as cancelled.
Spencer kisses your cheek, and you get the sense that things are still being left unfinished. There’s an unresolved tension that you can’t shake, even after all the apologies and kisses and sweet words. Still, he made a point with his talk about not mixing argument with pleasure, and you’d like to respect those wishes because you respect him—even if every atom of your being shakes with desire to keep him locked in your bedroom, hidden away from the world together, for as long as you can possibly manage.
Eventually, you loosen your hold, and you let him go. He lingers at the door, hands in his pockets, just watching you and mirroring your small smile as you hold onto the counter with an iron grip to keep yourself in check. After he finally peels his gaze away from yours and silently closes the door behind him, you stand there, staring at the wood for at least a minute.
Once you manage to shake yourself from your revery with a deep breath, you grab your glass from earlier and stand in front of the sink, watching it fill with a white jet of water. It’d be a shame to admit it to him, but maybe Spencer is right. Maybe you do need time to emotionally digest today. After all—that was technically your first argument. It seems to have left you sort of wound up. Not in a bad way, per se—maybe you just need to take a shower, let the hot water roll over your shoulders and wash away the frenetic energy that clings to you.
Still, something tells you that you won’t be getting much sleep tonight, even if you do take the world’s longest shower. You’re simply too high-strung. You wonder if having Spencer here would fix that or make it worse. But ultimately, he’d made the call that it was a bad idea for him to stay, and you’re generally inclined to trust his judgement.
The thought makes you laugh into your cup as you drink. Even after the debacle that was the past week, you trust him to know what he’s doing. Maybe you need to rethink that, at least temporarily, until he’s had a chance to redeem himself.
Just then, your front door is opening with absolutely zero warning and slamming shut again before you can finish whipping around. Your heart threatens to choke you and you almost drop your glass, clutching your chest.
“Jesus, you—”
But the words die in your throat as Spencer storms toward you, shrugging his coat off with a white-hot chill in his eyes. It’s enough to freeze you in place, heart drumming against the confines of your ribs.
“You really need to start locking that door,” he breathes, tossing his jacket on the counter before grabbing your face and crashing his lips into yours, palms pressed to your jaw and fingers pushing into your hair. You stand there, hands hovering in air before you gain the wherewithal to blindly set the glass down behind you. Your heart is pounding as you immediately submit to the kiss, whining softly against his lips and cautiously seeking stability in the fabric of his shirt. Spencer pulls away only briefly, allowing you to gasp for much-needed air. His brown eyes are like molten gold on you, pupils blown wide and wild as he scans your face, taking heavy breaths of his own. “Anyone could just walk in.”
#spencer reid#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid angst#spencer reid fluff#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfic
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i’d die a thousand times for you ┊ hurt/comfort, suggestive, MDNI, gn! reader, established relationship, pet names (pretty, love), lovely banter, v brief somno mention if you squint, this blurb was provoked by ch261 (no spoilers though), not proofread we die like this, wc: 1.1k
you watched satoru carefully.
searing every feature on his precious face deep into your consciousness while he was soundly sleeping next to you — the way his nostrils flared with each breath he took and the way his eyelids slightly fluttered in slumber, cheek squished against the pillow leaving his mouth agape and drooling from the corner of it.
you thought you’d never get to see him like this ever again, not after what you witnessed with your own eyes in shinjuku.
—you shut your eyes close, tightly. shaking your head, desperately trying to dispel that sight from your memories like your life depended on it. it always reached you in your nightmares but you’d never let it catch you when awake. not when he was here.
when he came back to you, for the first time in your life, you considered it possible — that there might really be god, because his return was no miracle. it was god having mercy on you for he would never give one more than they could handle.
you trailed your fingers along his forehead — tenderly brushing back his hair that felt fluffier than ever between your fingers — before sliding them down his temple to his cheek and then to his cutely parted lips that planted a soft kiss on your fingertip.
“morning, pretty”, satoru spoke with a sleepy timbre, eyes remaining close.
“morning, handsome”, you greeted him back. “did i wake you up?”
“no, been awake for a while”, he smiled, “can’t miss my favorite part of the morning — having you be the creep and stare at me while you think i’m asleep. makes my chest swell with joy”, he slowly opened his eyes and looked at you, his smile growing bigger.
“can’t have you be the creep all the time, that’d be unfair”, you teased, shifting into a sitting position with your back against the headboard of the bed.
he rolled closer and laid his head on your lap, taking your hand into his and pecking it sweetly then putting it on his chest, right on top of his heart, while keeping his over yours. “so we’re basically switching roles?”
“that’s right”, you gave a nod. “we are”
“then there’s a lot more you need to do, i’m afraid”
“walk me through it then, please”
“alright”, he cleared his throat. “first”, he shifted your hand from his chest to the top of his head, “you need to pat me and slowly run your fingers through my hair”, his hand carefully guiding yours. “then you need to lean down a little bit and kiss the tip of my nose”
after you did as he instructed, it took him a hot minute to wipe the silly grin off his face but eventually he continued, “and now you have to caress my cheek and think very hard about how you might just die from happiness because i look ridiculously cute and you love me so very much. after you’re done thinking, you have to whisper it into my ear. you have to be very thorough with your confession, by the way — the required word count is minimum 1k”
“now you’re just making fun of me”, you softly flicked his forehead with your free hand, “no way you’re doing this to me every morning”
“i do even more than this but i don’t want to freak you out, so i’m just easing you into the basic stuff”
“more than this?”
“well of course”
“what is it?”
“can’t tell”
“come on”, you insisted.
“try to guess”, he lifted an eyebrow with a challenging look.
“okay. give me a hint and i will”
“something a freak would do”
“oh……”, a gasp left your lips at the realization, “don’t tell me you…”, gasping again you covered your mouth with your hand.
“oh, yeah”, he shook his head affirmatively.
no words were needed, a quick glance at his idiotic grin was enough to provide you with the answer. it was written all over his face — satoru would often jerk off to you while you were sleeping.
“by the way — if you’re up to fulfilling this part of the creep role, i am definitely watching. heheh”
you laughed, “that’d be off-script though — you’re supposed to be asleep while i do that or it beats the purpose”
“i can pretend to be sleeping, don’t you worry”, he adeptly assured you.
“it wouldn’t be very creep of me if you’re not in deep slumber, so — no”
his lips curved down into a pout. “fine”, he mumbled. “at least do the last part — tell me you love me”
leaning down slowly, your lips charged towards his for a short peck before you whispered into his mouth, “i love you, stinky”
“i love you too, pretty”, he reached for the back of your neck and pulled you in for another kiss. “now — say it again, but louder”
and you did. you said it again and again and again, in between every kiss, until your eyes welled up and it got harder to speak while holding back the tears.
you leaned back and covered your face with both of your hands. “i’m sorry”, you muffled.
“hey, love”, he sat up and pulled you into his arms. “shhh, come here”
he knew exactly what crossed your mind right now for the same thought occupied his as well — just as much as he was grateful to be here, to be as lucky to have this morning banter with you — so were you. in fact, he was more than lucky, perhaps even god’s favorite child, to make it back to you. thinking about the possibility of leaving you behind, alone in this bed, in this house, in this life — made his heart ache, because he was on thin ice back in shinjuku. the pain and loneliness he would’ve caused you would be a one-way ticket for him to hell — and he wasn’t having it. before you, he didn’t really care whether he’d go to hell or heaven. but now, heaven is a must. because you were an angel, and that was the only place he could meet you again if the worst were to ever happen.
“i am here”, he whispered. “i am here”, his repeated a few times until his voice started cracking and he just held you in silence.
“you better”, you pulled away from his embrace and straddled yourself on his lap. cupping his cheeks in your hands, you nuzzled your nose against his and breathed in his scent. “if you die again, i swear i will kill you”
“but if you’ll hold me like this every day, i don’t mind dying a thousand times”
“don’t ever joke about this, you idiot”
“but i am not joking. i mean it — i’d pay any price as long as i get to be with you like this”
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rosy
더 깊이 빠져들겠지 더 조금씩 더 조금씩 넌...
you don't know how to give a hickey.. what are friends for if not to help each other with these things?
pairing: bff!felix × gn!reader
content: nonidol au, fluff, not rly smut but suggestive (mdni pls), shy/inexperienced reader, hickeys (duh), reader is like slightly germophobic idk, a lot of teasing, no use of y/n
a/n: i am so delusional i need to bite this mans neck badly. and yes this is my username. yes it's the loona song. lol
[also read on ao3]
—
God, you should have just kept your mouth shut.
“You don't know how to give a hickey?”
You shake your head and cover your face, hiding from Felix, who's sitting next to you on his bed.
“Wait, really? Like you've never even tried it on yourself?” he asks.
“No?! What, people actually do that?” Your hands lower slightly to reveal your eyes widening.
He breathes out a laugh and you hit his arm. “It's not funny!”
“It's kind of funny.”
“Shut up. I just— like— I never… whatever.” He poorly conceals a teasing smile. “Shut up or you're literally not getting any cinnamon rolls tomorrow. In fact, lemme ask Hannie if he wants your extras.” You pull out your phone.
Before you can do anything, Felix swiftly moves closer to you, his hand pushing yours down. “Whoa, whoa, hey.. that's a little drastic, yeah? Have I ever told you how much I love and appreciate you? ..And your cinnamon rolls?” He smiles sweetly, batting his eyelashes at you.
You grumble but drop the phone and shake his hand away, pursing your lips to fight a smile. The two of you fall into a comfortable silence.
…And then Felix ruins it.
“But you've kissed people before, right?”
You look at him incredulously. “Did I not say to shut up??” you shriek.
“Is that a no?” He giggles. He fucking giggles. You want to punch his pretty face.
“Lee Felix Yongbok I will smite you down right here where you stand if you don't—”
He puts his hands up in surrender. “Okay wait, sorry, I didn't mean it like that! I just mean, it's kind of like the same thing, you know?”
“The same as what? Giving a h-hickey?” You can't help but stutter a little.
“Yeah like it's… I'll show you.”
Felix suddenly moves so he's in front of you and gently grabs your arm. He'll show you?! Literally what. What the hell. You let out a small squeak and instinctively lean away from him.
“Relax, I just meant here,” he touches your arm. “Is that okay?”
You stare at him.
“...Or I could show it on myself but I thought it might be better to feel it? Or I don't have to do it at all of course,” he says quickly.
Oh. It takes a second but the gears in your head start slowly turning enough to respond.
“Oh.” Well, okay, that wasn't as much of a response as you meant to give.
Felix laughs softly and pulls his hand away from your arm. “Sorry, it's too weird, right? No worries.”
But wait, you're actually curious. And isn't it better to figure it out before you inevitably make a fool out of yourself in front of someone else? It makes you a bit nervous but… you're comfortable with Felix. “No, wait, you can uh... show me…?”
His eyebrows raise for a second but then he smiles. “You sure?”
You nod. You still feel a little dazed and you're not really cognizant enough to actually do anything but watch him as he moves closer again. Your arm must feel like a dead weight but he lifts it up and lowers his head, placing a chaste kiss on your inner wrist. “This okay? Usually you um... start with kissing.”
“O-Oh, okay, yeah..” you murmur. What is this sudden weird atmosphere? Maybe you're the only one feeling it. Felix doesn't seem too phased, but you can feel your heart pounding in your chest. Shit, can he feel your pulse right now? You really hope not.
He flashes a shy smile and places another kiss there, and another a little higher, and another, and it feels way too intimate and sends shivers up your spine. Slowly, he moves up your forearm, stopping right before your elbow.
“So… then.. you just wanna like... suck,” he says before doing just that, right below the crook of your elbow.
Oh. It feels weird. You must have made a noise or something because he looks up at you through dark lashes, a smile playing on the corners of his lips. You swallow. What the actual hell is happening right now?
After holding excruciating eye contact for what feels like an eternity, he lets his eyes close. Thank god, because it was making your chest feel tight and weird. You continue to stare as he continues kissing and sucking at your arm, face absolutely burning at the strange sensation.
You've literally lost the freaking plot. You just sit there, no semblance of time passing. After about twenty seconds? Twenty minutes? It literally could have been either — he finally pulls away, with a final kiss and light drag of his teeth against your skin.
You hold your breath as he sits up and gently maneuvers your arm so you could see the fruits of his labor. He clears his throat. “Um, so… it's starting to show up. See?” he says a little breathlessly.
You nod, unsure what to say when your best friend literally just sucked a hickey onto your arm. A very platonic hickey. Okay. This is fine. This is totally normal right? It must be or he wouldn't have offered. ..Right? You stare down at the bruise starting to blossom on your arm and finally chance a glance at Felix, but he also has his head down, staring at your arm.
Suddenly as if on cue, his head jerks up. When he sees you looking at him he grins. “Cool, right? How does it feel?”
“Weird…” you mumble. How can he be so nonchalant about this? You want to strangle him.
He nods. “It might be a little sensitive for a bit.” He runs his fingers lightly over the reddening area and you immediately see what he means. It feels tender and tingly under his touch. You shiver. “So.. you think you get how to do it now?” he asks.
“Um… yeah, I mean, maybe?”
“Do you wanna try?”
“Try? What, on… on your arm?!”
A slight blush creeps up his face and he shrugs. “Sure, or wherever… my arm, or my neck since that's where it's usually…”
You feel your face heat up as well. “I…”
“I just thought, if you wanna like, practice? But of course you don't have to.” He looks away and shrugs again, seeming a little embarrassed for suggesting it.
You open and close your mouth over and over again like a fish. Like a stupid dumb fish who somehow got itself reeled into this crazy situation. But honestly, the more you think about it, the offer to practice is tempting. When would you get another opportunity like this? Probably never. And… you trust Felix more than anyone else.
“...Is it really okay?” you ask hesitantly.
Felix looks up, blinking a few times before smiling. “Of course. I mean, it's only fair since I did it on you,” he laughs softly. He seems happy but also a little surprised that you actually appeared to be agreeing to his offer. Honestly, you're surprised too.
“Right, um…” you mumble. You shuffle a little closer to him. His hand slides down from your elbow to your hand, rubbing gentle circles on the back of it with his thumb. To reassure you, you think. It's a sweet gesture.
You lean in slightly towards his neck, deciding that if you do it here, you can hide your face from him and avoid any eye contact. “Um, can I...? Where should I…?”
You're so close to him. You can hear his breath catch a little before he points to the side of his neck with his free hand. “Around here,” he says, his voice somehow getting impossibly lower.
You swallow, the reality of the situation suddenly sinking in. As you lean in further you bite your lip, anxious. You need to break this tension somehow. You just can't do this right now. “Um.. um… do you wash your neck?” you blurt out.
Felix leans back a little. “Do I... do I wash my neck? That's what you're worried about?” he laughs.
“Some people probably don't!” you exclaim. Then you sigh. “Ugh, s-sorry, that's stupid, right? You literally licked my arm,” you let out a nervous laugh. “I just— I don't know. It feels icky. Germs.”
He hums. “You're not stupid.” A pause. “But, I can proudly say I do wash my neck.” He presses his lips together, clearly suppressing another laugh and you just know he's about to tease you. “Wow, how do you even kiss people if you're this worried about germs?”
“Shut up,” you grumble, leaning back into his neck a little to hide your face, your breath hot on his neck. He inhales sharply and seems surprised and, you think, a little panicked?
You instantly pull away. “Felix, are you sure?” You chew on your lip. Is this a bad idea after all?
“Yeah, I-I... yeah, of course,” he says, a little breathless, but you're not entirely convinced. You start to move away fully but he quickly grabs your arm again. “No.. no, wait. Please,” he whispers. You see him visibly try to relax, taking a deep breath in and out. “It's okay. I promise. I was just caught off guard.”
“Sorry,” you whisper.
“No, no, you're good, you're fine. It was me.” Felix clears his throat and rubs your arm reassuringly.
You take a deep breath. “Okay… so.. here?” You lean back in to where you were previously, breath hitting his neck.
He swallows, and you see it because his Adam's apple bobs up and down right in front of your face. What the fuck. “Yeah. Just go slow and… you can start with kissing if you want. Don't overthink it,” he mumbles, sounding more like he's reminding himself of something.
You nod and slowly, so slowly, you lean in the rest of the way and press your lips to his neck.
You expected him to remain still but a small breathy noise escapes him and he leans his head further back, exposing more of his neck in the process. You swear you can feel his pulse thrumming under your lips. “Good... um.. yeah, just... kiss a little bit and then suck. You can use your tongue, too,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, but you can feel the vibrations against your lips when he speaks. What the fuck.
Your head feels fuzzy. You hesitantly place a kiss on his neck, and then another a little higher, and another, until you reach an area you're satisfied with. You almost want to pull away but remember Felix's words. Right. Just try not to overthink it…
He pulls a breath in through his teeth when you press an open-mouthed kiss and start sucking gently. At the same time, your tongue darts out almost automatically and touches his skin.
You feel him swallow thickly. “Y-You gotta… harder…” he murmurs. “Or it won't mark.”
You hesitate. “Won't it hurt?”
He blinks hard and shakes his head slightly. “Don't worry… I-I'll tell you if it hurts, okay? Just try. Do it like I did.”
You nod and take a deep breath before trying again, this time in earnest, sucking harder and pulling his skin between your lips and even past your teeth.
“Yeah,” he breathes out, his grip on your arm tightening, “Like... like that. And you can.. use your teeth a little too.” His voice is getting thick, low, and raspy and, god, you feel a little dizzy.
But you want to please him, so you bite down softly and let your teeth run over the area. A quiet, high-pitched whine escapes his lips, and his hand shoots up to cover his mouth, body jerking back slightly. He suddenly seems to realize the noise he made and looks at you, wide-eyed.
You pull back again, a little breathless. “D-Did it hurt?” You really didn't think you bit that hard, but you can't hide the worry in your voice.
His hand drops from his mouth, face flushed and breathing labored. His eyes look a little dialed out. “No... no, it didn't.. hurt.” It seems like it takes all his strength just to say that. “Sorry, I just...” he takes a few more seconds to gather himself, “Um, kinda sensitive…”
…Sensitive? Oh. Oh. It was good. He liked it. You almost sigh in relief. But then… wait. He's sensitive there. He… Your brain isn't working. You find yourself leaning back in to his neck without thinking.
Felix doesn’t protest, just sits back, exposing more of his neck to you. You feel his body shudder when you lightly drag your teeth over the area before attaching your mouth more firmly and sucking at his skin.
He can’t stop the whimper from leaving his throat. “That feels really good.. you’re doing good,” he pants.
Your heart swells from the praise and you double down on your efforts. You hear him try to suppress another whimper but it’s more strained this time. It happens again and again, little noises and whines that you're not sure if he's even aware he's making. Every noise pulls and tugs at something in your stomach.
It feels intimate, so insanely intimate and you think you might combust on the spot if you go any longer. It's a bit nerve-wracking to pull away and face Felix but you force yourself to, licking your lips as you retreat.
Your eyes immediately widen at the sight in front of you. A pretty, deep pink bruise begins to blossom on his neck and your heart skips a beat at the realization that you did that to him.
Felix hasn't said anything. Is he upset? You chance a glance at his face and—
Oh. His eyes are closed and a faint sheen of sweat coats his flushed face, which is pulled taught in a mixture of bliss and something like pain. His chest is heaving, breath coming out in quick gasps. You stare at him, the only thought in your mind being: God, he's gorgeous like this.
He blinks rapidly and seems to finally come to. When he finally refocuses his gaze on you, he lets out a shaky exhale that turns into a weak laugh.
“...Good?” he asks.
Good? Good? Your head is spinning. It's not good. Nothing is good. Life is meaningless and everything you know exists on a floating rock spinning in the void and you think you're gonna pass out and never wake up. It's not good. It's fucking crazy. But you just mumble, “It's… showing up, I think…”
He raises an eyebrow. “That right? Let me see then.”
Felix grabs his phone and pulls up the camera, angling it so he has a clear view of his neck. He lets out a soft whistle, bringing his hand up to feel where the hickey is. You watch dumbly as he presses his fingers on it and lets out a shaky sigh. Then he looks at you and grins before throwing you a thumbs-up. “You did great. It's already pretty dark.”
You actually want to kill him. Your brain is melting and he's acting like this is the most normal afternoon of his life. Maybe it is. Does Felix do this type of thing often? The thought makes you shiver.
You throw your hands over your face. “I-I didn't mean for it to be that—like—ugh…”
His smile softens. “Hey, hey, you don't have to be embarrassed. It's…” he searches your face for a second and suddenly reaches over to gently pull your hands away. “It's not that bad. You did really good. Besides, it’s my neck, yeah?” His tone shifts to more of a teasing one, like he’s amused you’re overreacting a little. It just serves to frustrate you more.
You sigh. “Um… I really—it's really okay..?”
He nods. “Yeah, of course it is. It’s just a little mark, nothing serious.” He looks at you thoughtfully for a bit and you feel yourself getting flushed under his gaze. “You know.. you can try it again. If you want. Just to practice. Or for science, or whatever.” He laughs.
What. You’re stunned into silence. Science? You stare at him incredulously and he just grins back before leaning even further forward. This can't be your Felix. This is actually crazy.
Felix smiles at your dumbfounded expression. “…Come on.” He brings a hand up to your face and pokes at your cheek softly. “Do it again. Try a different spot. Make it darker.”
He's obviously teasing you. So you're flabbergasted when what comes out of your mouth is, “W-Where..?” Where? Literally what are you saying. Like, where is the nearest exit? Where has your own sanity gone? That's what you should be asking.
He shrugs. “Anywhere. The other side?” He points to the unmarked side of his neck. Then he pushes his shirt down slightly, revealing a sliver of his shoulder and collarbone before looking back at you, eyes expectant with a bit of an impish gleam. “Maybe.. here?” he mumbles.
Your head spins. Oh yeah, you're definitely gonna pass out. It's so over. Life and death and the universe… fucking craziness. You're falling. You're dying. Everything is melting. Nothing's real.
Oh wait, you're actually falling, your head plopping down on his shoulder as you let out an embarrassed groan.
You hear him laughing softly. “Someone's eager—”
You’re a bit confused but then your eyes focus on the place your head is now laying and—Oh god, you’re right where his shoulder and neck meet. Right where he just told you to suck a hickey. Great.
You instantly lift your head up, face burning. “No, I didn't—I wasn't trying to—”
He brushes the hair out of your face. “Hey, it's okay, I'm not forcing you or anything. Are you overwhelmed?”
“Um, yeah, but— y-yeah. Sorry.” God. How pathetic do you look right now?
“Don't apologize. I was just teasing. It makes sense to be overwhelmed. It's a new experience.” He sits back and laughs but there’s a bit of a nervous waver to it. “You're fine, seriously. Maybe we got a little carried away, huh?”
“Uhh— yeah….”
He gives you an apologetic look. “I'm sorry for being pushy. Let's just... just forget about the whole thing, yeah? Let's play some video games or something.” He clears his throat.
He's moving on but your head is still spinning. This really is the most normal afternoon for him, you think. Because how is he so chill? Your body is still buzzing with nervous energy and you can't just switch off and forget about it, can you?
You can't. “Uh— Uh, wait—...”
“...Yeah?”
You drop your head back down onto his shoulder. “Um… is it bad if I… kinda…”
You trail off and he doesn’t respond for a few seconds. You don’t dare move, waiting for something, anything. When he finally does say something his voice sounds strained. “Kinda what?” he asks quietly.
“Um.” Fuck. “Nevermind.” You go to draw back but Felix quickly places a hand at the back of your head, preventing any movement.
You hear him exhale quietly. “I don't mind, you know,” he whispers. “You can do it. If you... if you want to.” He slowly starts running his fingers through your hair. “If you wanna practice. The more you practice, the more comfortable you'll be with it, right?”
You hum against his shoulder, the justification mulling around in your head. Of course. Of course that's why you want to. For practice. For science.
He continues. “Yeah, do it. Uh, j-just, I mean— if you want. A-As practice. Try to… see how dark you can make it… or… ” For all the talk he was making before, he stutters now, and you can't help but find it a little endearing. Maybe he's actually a little nervous as well.
Fuck it. Who cares. You've lost the plot. You press your mouth against his skin, giving a few open-mouthed kisses before gently sucking at it.
You hear his breathing stutter and he shifts slightly. “Yeah, j-just…” he lets out a shaky sigh and presses his hand a bit more firmly on the back of your head, bringing you closer to him. The angle is still a bit awkward to reach, so without much thinking, you crawl slightly onto his lap.
“Oh,” he mumbles, his body goes tense for a second before relaxing again. He's completely still, like if he moves you’ll pull away, but eventually his fingers start running through your hair again. It isn't a particularly suggestive position, you're sitting back more towards his knees, but suddenly everything feels charged with tension.
You hear a low, almost imperceptible groan as you continue sucking lightly from the new angle. “You're doing really well,” he mutters encouragingly. “Just a little more… harder. And like, bite a little, remember?”
Right. You comply and bite down a little. Felix lets out a small whine, hand tightening in your hair. “Good… uh, just like that..” he mumbles. “You can try moving a little more, if you want—”
You don't need to hear more, instantly moving your mouth higher up his neck without much thought. His fingers slide down until his hands are completely resting between your shoulder blades, pressing you closer. Shivers run down your spine where he touches and you attach your lips to the side of his Adam's apple.
“A-Ah…” a shaky moan escapes him, taking both of you by surprise. His hands suddenly jump down to grip your waist tightly. Oh. He seems much more sensitive here. You swear you're dizzy. Maybe you're dying. You think you’re fine with that honestly.
You want to bite him. You let your teeth sink into the skin a little. He lets out a shaky half-laugh, half-groan, tilting his head back and pulling you towards him. “Y-You learn quickly.” A deep pink flush runs high on his cheeks, and his breaths are unsteady. You’ve never seen him like this, so undone, and it's making you feel powerful. You want more.
You decide to give in to that and bite down harder, feeling his body jerk. He moans, breathy, and whispers, “Oh. Yeah. Yeah, that feels so good.” One of his hands moves to the back of your neck, fingers gently grasping the base of your hair. His thumb brushes up against your earlobe and for some reason it sets tingles off all down your spine.
…Does it really feel that good? You can't help but wonder. It mostly just felt weird on your arm but you suppose that's different. Different from your. Neck. Oh fuck, now you're thinking about it. His mouth on your neck. His mouth on your neck. You're floating. You're crashing. Everything is cool. Everything is burning.
Your brain is practically short-circuiting and you start sucking on the same spot before pulling back just enough to bite down and suck at it again, this time a little harder.
His breath stutters and you feel his head tilt to give you more access. There's another small gasp that comes out as a strained “Fuuuck…” when you continue. You think you're actually delirious at this point.
Then, “W-wait..” he says urgently, his chest heaving. His hand that was on your neck slides down to grab your shoulder now.
“That's… good. We should.. stop. I…” he pants heavily.
You pull away instantly. “O-Okay. Yeah. Sorry.” You feel restless, fidgety, more than just from nerves.
“No, you're fine, god. It's me. I'm getting too…” he shakes his head. “You did really good, I…” He presses his hands against his eyes and takes a few deep, slow breaths.
When he drops his hands he seems mostly back to normal. “Um.” He laughs a little. “We, uh… how's it look?”
You stare at his neck and shoulder. Oh, fuck. In truth, it looks fucking insane. Like he got mauled or something. Oh my god. That was you. What came over you?
He raises an eyebrow at your silence. “Guess I gotta see for myself,” he says and places his hands on your waist to lift you up and off of his lap. As if you weigh literally nothing. What the fuck.
With your head still reeling at how he lifted you like you're nothing, you don't really notice him reaching for his phone to see himself until you hear him suck in a breath.
“Wow… I'm gonna get so many comments tomorrow.”
“What?!” you shriek. Oh god. Of course it'll take a few days to fade. You hadn't even thought about that. The light mark on your arm is easy to brush off as nothing but the rosy hues on his neck are unmistakable.
He laughs. “I'm just kidding. I'll have to.. cover it with makeup I guess. Don't worry.”
“You better…” you mumble, embarrassed.
He hums. “Hmm… Well it isn't really fair... What should I do…” He leans in, studying your flushed face. “Wanna match?” he says with a cheeky grin.
“What?? Felix!”
“I'm joking! Jeez…” He pokes your cheek. “Unless all this blushing isn't just from embarrassment and you're actually into this?”
Your face is positively burning. “Shut up. You're annoying as hell,” you grumble.
He gasps dramatically. “After I gave up my sanctity for you to practice on me? This is how you treat me?”
You can't help but giggle at his dramatics but you quickly steel your expression and glare at him equally as dramatically.
You're really grateful everything seems to be normal on his end. You're trying your best to act the same, but in truth, you feel like a fucking mess. His joking comment about you being into this… No, definitely not. There's no way. It's probably just because it's your first time doing this with anyone, so of course it's going to feel crazy and weird and confusing. Right? Yeah. But still. Even long after the two of you move on, playing video games and hanging out like normal, you can't shake the feeling that something's weird. Something shifted. You don't know what the fuck it is though. You just try not to think about it.
How are you actually supposed to go back to normal after this?
—
a/n: so on a scale of 1 to 10 how painfully obvious is it that i've never given a hickey in my life.
no but um haha any feedback good or bad would be super appreciated!! pls leave a like or reblog if u enjoyed it makes me so happy. tysm for reading <3
#i've never written reader fics before i hope this is ok#i was supposed to edit it more but i didnt#i hope its readable#hope reader isnt too unbearable lmfao#anyway i might do a pt 2 cus im crazy#felix fic#felix fanfic#lee felix fluff#felix fluff#felix smut#skz felix#felix x reader#stray kids x reader#felix imagines#stray kids imagines#stray kids hard thoughts#skz fic#skz imagines#skz fanfiction#lee felix#lee felix smut#lee felix fic#lee felix x reader
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✮ tags ; pwp, fem + afab!reader, dubcon (reader is drunk af), dirty talk, rough-ish sex, the liiiightest yan undertone. 18+
✮ a/n ; im not a kiri fucker but i . had a thought in the shower
Kirishima fucks like he has something to prove.
That part of him hasn't changed, you think. It's a bad time to be reminiscing about such a thing, especially since your brain can't think of anything other than how good it feels to have such a thick cock buried in your sore, weeping cunt.
Kirishima has stopped briefly, just to bottom out and press his navel to your sex - so your brain has a little space to think. You don't know exactly how you've ended up here after thinking about it for a long time. The alcohol is making your head feel fuzzy and your lower half is weak, might melt into Kirishima's nice king size bed if you're not careful.
An hour ago, you had come off of work and joined some friends in an izakaya. Kirishima was there too, seemingly with his own friends. You hadn't seen him since middle school, when he shorter and more negative. You had a crush on him then, back before all the hero stuff.
It was refreshing to see a boy your age obsesses over something like being a perfectly chivalrous man. You were friend though not closely, and had a dopey school girl love affair that never came of fruition. You didn't speak to him after that, weren't close enough to ask - and watched him grow into a hero through televised events and news.
He's a pro now. He was much bigger than you thought he'd be. You didn't think men could get that big, unless they played basketball or something. He was shorter than you in middle school but when you saw him again in person, he was double your height. You had to crane your neck up just to get a good look at his face. Defined jaw and rugged, boyish charm that made your cheeks warm like you hadn't grown out of being a girl.
You thought he wouldn't recognize you since he's basically famous now, but he did. Flagged you down and whisked you away for drinks and catch up time. Your friends pushed you to go, so you did. You drank and spoke about nothing in particular and Kirishima seemed so enraptured with you - you thought the alcohol had fried your brain. Thoroughly tipsy and giggly, you admitted to having a crush on him in long and unnecessary detail. That you liked him, and seem to still if this feeling is anything to go by.
You hadn't expected anything of it. But he kissed you in the corner of the bar and asked if you had anywhere to be, hauled you into a taxi when you said no and made out with you on the way home. Put his hand underneath you shirt and squeezed your waist, said something about how cute you are. Always have been.
No one seemed to think anything of it when you left. Pro-Hero's escort drunk girls all the time, but you wonder if it's normal to fuck them? You wonder if Kirishima has practice in bring home drunk girls who are too big for their boots and too needy to be anything but sincere.
He's so good at fucking you, you aren't sure you'd mind that being true. Not like this.
He didn't give you any time to adjust to what was going on, every breath had him chasing more of you like he'd run out of time if he didn't rush. He carried you inside, licked your pussy while you laid against his kitchen counter and finger fucked you until you could take all eight inches of him. Was he always this relentless? You know he was never kind, no matter how much he seems it. He was always critical and cunning, but you didn't expect him to be so ruthless.
He doesn't let you off of his cock after he gets you on it. Makes you wrap your arms around his shoulders even though you barely can because he's so big. Makes you wrap your legs around his waist and tells you to hold tight as he walks you up the stairs with his cock still twitching. The whole thing makes your eyelids burn with pleasure, your body yearning to keep him inside of you for as long as you can stay conscious which is barely when you're this wasted.
He dropped you in his bed and fucked you in missionary. You think in the span of a few hours, you've spent more of it feeling his cock throb inside of you longer than you've spent without. He's too big, and fucks mean. There's no chivalry in it, just pure primal desire behind weight and heavy thrusts that make you gasp involuntarily.
You haven't stopped cumming. You've never done that so much in a row. Your body feels nearly numb as you think on it. He's been keep you like this for so long and the alcohol is making you lightheaded. You can barely understand what he's saying except that he's loved you for so long. You wonder if that's true. Your pussy likes it though, clenches every time he groans into your neck after the headboard hits the wall with his thrusts.
He fucks you like he wants to prove something to you. You don't know what exactly. You're drunk and floaty and you can't stop cumming and you can't think of anything other than how much you want him to fuck your brains out. How much you want him to cum, so deep in your pussy you'd have to push it out to get rid of it. How much you want to cum around his cock until you get so fuckdrunk you pass out on it.
A little pleasant catching up and now you can't unfurl your spine from the way it's raised, and your toes hurt from how tight they've curled. You feel ditzy with it. Didn't know cock could make you cum so much you turn stupid and babbling. It's all you've been doing and Kirishima doesn't seem to mind it all. Just laughs at your nonsense words and kisses you with sharp teeth and fucks you.
And fucks you and fucks you and fucks you, with your knees to your ears and your eyes blurry and hazed.
"Kirisihima-kun," You gasp at him, breathless and hot.
"Eijirou," He corrects with a nip to your mouth. "We won't leave each other now. Not anymore."
He punctuates with the promise with a thrust so deep you can't do anything but agree. You wonder if all this is trying to prove his love for you, but how you could that be true? It's been years.
Another thrust makes your lower belly clench, and something squirts out of you mid thrust. You're too hazy to feel self-conscious of it and Kirishima only laughs.
You close your eyes and let him have you. Again and again and again.
#kirishima smut#bnha x reader#bnha smut#writing tag#dubcon cw#aha nooo kirishima dont take advantage of me while im drunk and out of it haha nooo#<- SORRY LAMSDOFJKD
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ANG BEER NA 'TO O ANG PAG-IBIG MO?
synopsis: taking care hsr men when they’re drunk ft. hsr men
pairing: aventurine, sunday, veritas ratio x reader (separate) | wc: 1.2k | content & warnings: fluff, mentions of alcohol and drinking/being under the influence , mentions of bathing together (veritas part) ; headcanon + drabble
tags: this is dedicated to my beloved filipino alcohol addict, who else if not @azullumi?? (istg one day you're gonna get an alcohol poisoning if you continue to drink) note to azul will follow at the very bottom as always <3
a/n: ang beer na 'to o ang pag-ibig mo? -> is it beer or your love? (im not even filipino but vietnamese..oh well..)
SUNDAY
talks a lot.
much different from his usual demeanor
really talkative
he babbles, rambles and chatters your ears off
“did you know that me and robin used to take care of a charmony dove?” he asks.
“yes, yes i do. you’ve told me thrice in the past 30 minutes.” you sigh.
“oh.” his mouth forms a small “o” before speaking up again. “well did you know that-”
“that you still have to make some preparations for the upcoming charmony festival?” you interrupt him and finish his sentence.
“how’d you know?” you can’t make out if it’s amazement or curiosity in his words. “well, a little birdie told me that not too long ago.”
“my bird?” he asks.
“..yeah, totally..” you hum.
AND really touchy which is unusual
sunday reaches forward to push the loose strands of your hair away from your forehead. “sunday what are you-” before you’re able to finish your question he presses his chapped lips against your forehead, placing a tender kiss on it.
before going down and peppering kisses along your jawline until his lips reach your collarbone. “stop that tickles!” you giggle and try to push him away to no use - it was pointless. it was like he was glued to your side.
his bony fingers find your hand and laces them together before softly squeezing them, eyes never leaving your face as he studies your expression.
he keeps eulogizing and complimenting you
“have i ever told you how pretty you are?” he takes a small bundle of your hair into his hand, before slowly caressing it with his thumb and index finger as he awaits your response.
upon that you can’t help but smile. the corners of your lips quirk up and you grin like a teenager who spots their crush exiting the classroom after intentionally switching routes just to see them.
“you do, but not as openly and often.” you say in response he can only gasp in surprise. “really?” “really!” you laugh.
(he then proceeds to write a sticky note for his future sober self to compliment you more.)
only shuts up when you kiss him.
you lean forward to press a chaste kiss on his lips, it’s a fleeting moment and the kiss doesn’t last as long as sunday wishes it would. it’s too short for his liking, granting him no chance to reciprocate the action.
“shut up, loverboy. let’s get you back home.” you beam at him with a smile brighter than both the moon and stars. your eyes are pools of love, an intoxicating essence sunday would gladly drown in. (not like he already hasn’t.)
in return he shoots you a lovesick smile which makes you melt.
AVENTURINE
unusually quiet until you talk to him and he pours out his heart
this is weird.
normally aventurine is the talkative one among the two of you but it seems like the tables have turned. there’s nothing but the sound of the wind blowing through the night and you cringe at the silence.
“‘rine are you okay?” you attempt to ask, hoping that he’d at least respond with a hum.
““you still like me, right?” he whispers. his answer was so quiet that you almost didn’t hear it but it did catch you off guard.
“what?” you ask confusedly, almost in disbelief.
“what.”
when you drape his arm over your shoulder to help him walk he’s slightly tripping and keeps apologizing
unlike sunday who’s the one reassuring you, aventurine is the one who constantly seeks reassurance from you
and not even indirectly, yeah no, directly
“m’sorry that you have to take care of me. you can tell me if it’s bothersome.” he says in an apologetic tone and you try your best to reassure him. “no, really it’s alright!” you stop your movements to take a quick breather.
aventurines quick to react and extracts his arm from your shoulder and tries to stand steady on his two feet. (miserably failing) “am i too heavy? sorry.” he apologizes, not being able to stand still.
“not at all!” you smile. “i just had to take a quick break but let’s continue.” you reach out your hand for him to grab on and as soon as he places his palm on yours you hold on tightly.
“also, aventurine, you don’t have to keep apologizing.” you say empathetically.
“sorry.”
aventurine is someone who has only had himself for a very long time and he himself was the one who helped him overcome many obstacles in his life with no one else at his side so try to reassure him as much as possible to let him know that he’s not alone
VERITAS RATIO
the type who only gets drunk when it’s a party hosted by the company or anything regarding his researches to indulge in the fun and celebrate the process
later on only babbles about some of his discoveries
the others eventually get tired but try to look interested, veritas, like the attentive person he is, notices and complains about how you’d listen
you’re leaving the bathroom and come back with 9 new messages from topaz and 7 ones from aventurine begging you to pick up veritas.
as you enter the party you immediately spot him near the bar, crowded by some employees and topaz and aventurine who look like they’re done.
you step over to the bar and greet the both of them. “hi, i’m here to pick up veritas.” you smile. “that sounds like you’re picking him from kindergarten.” topaz laughs. “but yeah he’s all yours now.” she says as she clinks her glass against aventurines, as if she were to celebrate a victory.
you move towards veritas and tap him on the shoulder, the action makes him turn around and raise an eyebrow in confusion. “sorry, what business do i have with you?” he asks at which you can only laugh at. “veri, i’m here to pick you up.” you smile.
“my partner wouldn’t like you addressing me with a nickname that they exclusively chose for me.” he says politely. “ah and could you please not hold onto my hand, i doubt that they’d like that either.”
“veritas, i am your partner.”
he's not the one who’s touchy he wants you to be touchy
trace shapes against his back, bury your head into the crook of his neck and leave kisses, ruffle his hair and so on (especially when taking a bath!!)
“so what shape was that?” you ask in excitement after you drew a tree onto his back with your wet fingers.
“π” he responds. (it sounds more like a question than an answer from the way he responded.)
at that you can only laugh. “close, it was a tree!” you lean down and bury your head against his neck, his back now facing your chest as you smile down at his skin and smear kisses along the crook of his neck thus making your lips covered in shower gel now.
you remove your mouth from his skin and start to massage his back slowly and tenderly, making his tense muscles relax before moving your hands to his head, ruffling through his hair and softly massaging his scalp before coming to a halt.
“why’d you stop?” his eyelashes flutter as he opens his eyes and turns around to face you.
“ah, well you didn’t say anything so i thought you didn’t like it. so i stopped.” you answer apologetically.
“did i tell you to stop?” he raises his eyebrow. “i suppose no..” you reply.
“well then continue, please.”
he trusts you enough to bathe with him and especially when being drunk
knows that you won’t just leave him be and actually care for him and tend to his needs
shower him with much affection and great care!!
okay tending to the most special guest now!! @azullumi ladies and gents, non binaries and the others whatever you identify yourself with, make way for user azullumi!! if you think your 4 month situationship who had a gf all along responds slowly TALK TO AZUL. HE NEVER RESPONDS TO MY TIKTOKS AND OMG EVEN WORSE I REPLY TO THE ONES HE SENDS ME AND THEY DON'T EVEN RESPOND TO MY MESSAGES BUT PROCEED TO SEND ME ANOTHER TIKTOK??? THE AUDACITY HELLO??? anyway i hope this reaches you in good spirits?? is that how you say that?!?!?! i like this song a lot i think the first time i've heard it was in a kaeya (genshin) edit LMFAO and it's been one of my fav songs ever since. beer, love and filipino put that in a pot and your receive azul. but azul azul i love love love you a lot. it's always fun talking to you and sharing my ideas. knowing that i have you by my side is always so reassuring for me to know. someone who's proud of me and my achievements, someone who's willing to listen me out, someone who actually has great advice which is helpful. thank you, thank you. i'm so blessed to have you. you're probably the best thing that has happened to me in the past few months. (and that one A- i got from my strict history teacher 😍😍)
e/n: not toooooo sure how to feel about this cause i wrote this for funsies but yeah! also rbs (with comments) are as always greatly appreciated. (i read through each of them). kisses to yall!!
© DR-FELITAS 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms or feeding them to ai is not permitted.
#—stellaronhvnters.#felis-files#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#hsr headcanons#hsr fluff#honkai star rail fluff#aventurine x reader#aventurine fluff#aventurine headcanons#sunday x reader#sunday fluff#sunday headcanons#dr ratio x reader#dr ratio fluff#dr ratio headcanons#veritas ratio x reader#veritas x reader
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You get drunk and don't remember giving them a hickey. So you get mad at them.
Oh, anon! I love love love this prompt. Even though the prompt itself is fairly straightforward, there is some wiggle room about how this could play out. I stuck to the prompt but did my best to keep them on the shorter side.
Some of these get spicy but don't fall into graphic detail.
Task Force 141 x Female Reader
Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, suggestive themes, arguing, sexual tension, kissing, alcohol
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist
John Price
“These reports are shit, Price. What am I supposed to do with them?”
You’re trying your best not to sound irritated, but your head is pounding. You agreed to go out for drinks but told yourself you wouldn’t have more than one or two. That went completely out the door when multiple people began paying for rounds. After the fourth, the night started to come blurry. Not all the pieces are there.
Of what you can recall from last night, you remember that you sat in a man’s lap. Well—sat isn’t the correct word. More like straddled. You remember strong arms, an accent, and an excitement in what you were doing. But the face is still foggy.
“What you always do,” replies Price. There’s a tease in his tone you don’t particularly like. It’s too friendly, and it stirs something fierce inside your belly.
Price shifts in his chair behind his desk, the collar of his jacket flops open slightly. You catch a hint of something dark on the side of Price’s neck. You frown, your rebuttal gone.
“What is that?” You nod toward his throat.
Price leans back. “What?” he asks. “This?” He reaches up, pulling back on the collar.
It’s a…oh fuck.
“You were happy to give it to me.” Price shrugs.
Fuck.
“Oh my god,” you whisper, tossing the manila file folder on Price’s desk.
The man you straddled last night was Price? The man who is always fucking up reports and ignoring all your suggestions for corrections? That one?
“You looked good doing it, too,” he continues, that teasing smile falling into a comfortability of a lover.
No. No no no.
You place your hands on your hips. “And you let me do that?”
Price shrugs. “We’re consenting adults.”
“I was drunk.”
Price crosses his arms over his chest. “We were both drunk. And you’re the one who pounced on me.”
Embarrassment rises hot and wild in your cheeks. “I wouldn’t do that.”
“You did,” he confirms, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly as he smirks. “Ambushed me actually.”
“Then why didn’t you stop me?” Your voice cracks, going a bit high.
“I tried.”
That’s almost worse. You jumped him and then sucked on his neck until it left a mark. What an absolute fucking mess.
You roll your eyes. “You tried? A big strong man like you couldn’t stop me?”
This time Price is the one rolling his eyes. He makes an irritated groan. Price pushes up from his chair, one hand waving out in front of him as he speaks. “You said you’d been thinking about me.”
It’s not entirely untrue. While you attend the clerical side of things, you do make excuses to come see Price. He’s older. Handsome. Assertive. His reports aren’t always shit but it’s the only reason you have to bother him.
“I didn’t mean it,” you reply but even you don’t believe it.
Price comes around the desk and steps into your space. “Really?”
You square your shoulders, staring into Price’s face. “Really.”
He shakes his head, clearly not believing you at all. “As I recall, you were in my lap. Practically begging.”
“And you allowed that? In front of everyone?” Even Price couldn’t be that careless.
This time, Price smiles like he knows something you don’t. “You don’t remember.”
“What?” you ask, flustered.
Price starts laughing, but it’s not mocking, more like he can’t believe what he’s hearing.
“John,” you snap.
Price sinks down into his chair, legs spread wide. “I think I liked it better when you said my name while seated in my lap.”
Your fingers dig into the top of Price’s desk. Pieces begin to return. Fragments of you squirming in his lap. Lips pressed against his.
“How did you say it?” he ponders, almost aloud rather than to you. Then, he smiles, not even answering his own question.
Price rests his palm on his thigh and your gaze drops to its subtle movement before returning to his face.
“Think I’d like a matching one,” he says. He runs his hand down his thigh and then back up. “Or I could give you one just like it.”
“John,” you murmur, not knowing what it is you want to say.
“Doesn’t have to be on your neck,” and his voice is nearly a growl. Price lightly squeezes his thigh and you know exactly where he’s referring to. “Be easier if you sit on the desk.”
You snatch up the folder on Price’s desk, clutching it like a shield against your chest. Price doesn’t even blink. Doesn’t appear fazed at all. Stomping over you shove it against his chest, intending to walk right out the door.
But Price is quick.
With one hand he’s clutching the file and with the other he grabs your wrist before you manage to move away.
“Remove your hand,” you say but there is no venom in it.
Price’s gaze lingers on your lips before shifting up to meet your eyes. “Come back when you know what you want.”
Price releases you, and you nearly stumble forward into his lap. Catching yourself on the edge of his desk, you spin on your heel, exiting Price’s office as the final fragments of memory fall into place.
You don’t want to admit it.
Not out loud. Not yet.
But you will be back.
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
It’s unbelievable. Unfathomable.
You’re not angry with Kyle. You’re upset with yourself. You’re upset that you were so careless about how many drinks you had, and how you couldn’t control yourself in the moment. Kyle is not a liar, and he doesn’t take advantage, so whatever you did, is on you.
“I’m sorry,” you say, swallowing down some of the rising irritation. “It’s my fault.”
Kyle shrugs, a sheepish smile on his face. “Not like I pushed you away.”
“That doesn’t matter,” you insist, flinging your arms out in exasperation, nearly knocking over bottles of cleaner.
“Fucking hell,” he mutters, catching one of them before it hits the floor.
This little storage room isn’t big enough for this. You need space. You need to run far away from here and pretend like last night didn’t happen. Not that you can remember all of it. You don’t recall giving Kyle that mark on his neck.
“It does matter. We both had too much but I still had more of my head than you did.” Kyle places the bottle of cleaner back on the shelf. “I should’ve done better.”
“We’re coworkers, Kyle. And I had no right. We aren’t together.”
Kyle smirks and you want to smack it right off his face. “We could be,” he murmurs, taking a step forward.
“Absolutely not,” you retort but you don’t retreat.
Kyle’s smirk faulters a bit but he doesn’t shrink away. If anything, he looks more determined, like the rejection is a farce.
“You remember anything you said to me last night?”
You lick your lips and cross your arms defensively over your chest. “Even if I did, does it change anything?”
Kyle sighs and runs his hand over the top of his head. “It does for me.”
Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you consider your options. Kyle is a sweet man, at least to you. Everyone always comments on it to you when he isn’t around, and you’ve always dismissed their observations.
Maybe he does care, and you doing this tipped him over the edge into a place neither of you might be able to come back from.
“I need some fucking air,” you mutter, wanting to escape this situation, even for a bit.
Kyle shoves forward, blocking the door. Your lips move, forming the shapes of words, but Kyle shakes his head, all seriousness.
“We need to talk about this.”
“We don’t need to talk about anything,” you snap.
Kyle’s eyebrows rise toward his hairline and his head tips slightly to the side, revealing more of the mark. “Everyone knows what happened.”
“What?” you breathe.
“We weren’t alone when you straddled me.” You’re too stunned to speak. All the words you want to say are gone. Lost to the void that is your mind.
Kyle sighs and leans against the door. “Soap got a great view.”
“Stop talking. Just—stop.” Your throw up your hands and Kyle does as you ask. “You are going to move out of my way. I am going to leave. And we won’t talk about this again.”
Kyle only stares, the silence stretching.
When you think he won’t give in, Kyle shifts to his left, leaving the door completely clear. Without taking a second to reconsider, you push open the the door, nearly running over Soap in the process.
He stumbles backward, cheeks bright red. Ghost is next to him, arms crossed, staring at the wall like he isn’t there at all.
Soap’s brief fluster turns into a wide, knowing grin. “Gaz give you a matching one?” he teases.
Ghost makes a noise that sounds like a snort.
“Both of you can fuck off.”
Simon "Ghost" Riley
“Ghost.”
“What?” he grunts, side-eyeing you before returning his attention back to the tablet in his hand. He absently rubs at his neck for the third time in the last few minutes.
You frown. “Are you injured?”
“Why would you think that?” he asks, tapping at something on the screen.
“You keep rubbing your neck.”
Ghost pauses, his finger hovering just above the screen as he turns slightly in your direction.
You’re not trying to be pushy or nosy. Ghosts hates that. But there’s something wrong, and you care enough to ask him about it.
“You know what’s on my neck,” he replies cooly.
“No. I don’t.” A swirling fracture of unease blooms in your belly. It curls outward to claw up your throat. “What are you talking about?”
Ghost’s hand holding the tablet drops to his side. With one gloved hand, he reaches up, tugging the neckline of his jacket down enough to reveal a portion of his throat. The mask he always wears is in the way, but you reach out with a tentative hand, brushing the fabric upward to reveal a mouth-shaped bruise.
You drop your hand and take a step back. “Why would I know anything about that?”
“You gave it to me,” he says, matter of fact.
Sure, you had a few drinks last night, but did you really have that many? Enough that you can’t recall giving Ghost a goddamn hickey.
“You’re mistaken.”
“Never wrong, love.” Ghost locks the tablet and places it on the table next to him. “Especially about a woman sitting in my lap.”
“Don’t,” you say sharply. “Don’t say that.”
“It’s true.”
“It’s not.”
He crosses his arms over his chest, hips adjusting slightly as he pivots to glare down at you. “Try again.”
A deep rush of embarrassment floods your system, curling up your neck to heat your cheeks. “I wouldn’t.”
“You did,” insists Ghost. You glance down at the floor, unable to meet his gaze. Perhaps you had one too many. Sometimes you can hold your alcohol but clearly not. At least not last night.
You clear your throat. “I’m sorry.” An apology is best. You have no idea how Ghost feels about you, but you are irritated that he didn’t try to stop the whole thing in the first place.
Ghost is silent a long moment. “I’m not.” Your head snaps up, but Ghost isn’t done. “I liked it. And you enjoyed giving it to me.”
You need the pieces to fall back into place. You need to remember. Because right now, you’re just confused, and Ghost’s behavior is entirely different from his usual demeanor.
“You don’t know that.”
Ghost shrugs. “I do.”
His certainty is confusing. Ghost is not a liar. He is always truthful, always to the point, even if his bluntness comes across as rude. And that’s what so frustrating about it all because you know that Ghost is right. You probably did like it, probably begged and writhed in his lap. Ghost wouldn’t lie about something like that, but he would tease you. Might even hold it over your head.
“This conversation is over.” You step around him to grab the tablet, but Ghost is quick like a viper, his large hand encasing your wrist.
“Do you remember?”
No. I don’t.
“It doesn’t matter.” You try to tug your wrist out of his grasp, but Ghost holds firm.
“When you’re ready. Find me.” He leans forward, masked face nearly touching the side of your cheek. “We’ll recreate it.”
Then his hand is gone, and Ghost is pulling away, presenting the tablet to you like he didn’t say anything at all.
John "Soap" MacTavish
“What the fuck is that?”
Soap’s brilliant smile turns in your direction. He sits on the seat of a bench press, elbows resting on knees, sweat dripping from his brow. Soap is shirtless and a white towel is draped over the back of his neck.
Reaching up with the edge of the towel, Soap wipes away some of the sweat on his face. “What are you on about?” He adjusts his stance, his large palm pressing into his knee as he leans on an elbow.
The small gym isn’t crowded but there are people here. Some of them turn and glance in your direction but otherwise keep to their business. Ghost and Gaz are over by the boxing ring observing a few new recruits who slug it out for bragging rights.
Is Soap so aloof? Does he not see the massive mark on the side of his neck? And who gave it to him? A group of you went out for drinks but you don’t recall who might have given it to him or when.
You step closer, lowering your voice. “Your neck, Johnny.”
That gorgeous smile of his widens and he chuckles. “Did you forget?”
Did you forget? Forget what? Are you part of this?
You swallow, the salvia nearly sticking in your throat as you try to calm your thudding heart. “What do you mean?”
Soap leans back a bit, observing you. “You gave this to me.” His voice is too loud, and you glance over your shoulder to make sure no one’s heard. Everyone appears to be preoccupied with the recruits in the ring.
“I didn’t,” you insist, turning back to him. “I’d remember.”
Soap guffaws and removes the towel from around his neck. “Took a seat right here.” He indicates the spot by tapping his left thigh.
“Did we…” you begin, and then trail off.
“Did we what?” he prompts, clearly enjoying this.
You bend forward, lowering your voice until it’s a hiss. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
Soap smirks, and then rises to his full height. “Promise I was a perfect gentleman.” He matches your movement, leaning in so that your faces are close. “But you? You were no lady.”
You inhale sharply, and Soap pushes right past you, heading for the showers.
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Tattoos older than you
Based off that Tik Tok trend: “I have tattoos older than you.” because age gap is everyone’s favorite trope, let’s be honest.
Pairing: Azriel x Archeron!Reader
Warnings: Age gap | suggestive | cute fluffiness
1.2k words
I peek my head through the door of a familiar Shadow Singers bedroom with a mischievous grin. "Love, not tonight," The male warns from his desk, giving me a pointed look. I enter anyway, closing the door behind me with a soft click.
He sighs in faux disappointment as I approach him, footsteps padding on his carpet as shadows swarm me, curling around my ankles, up my arms, into my hair. "They love me," I beam, looking at the dark tendrils.
“They do,” He nods in heavy agreement, as if they never shut up about that fact.
"And so do you," I redirect my attention to the winged male in front of me.
"Do I?" He tilts his head tauntingly and as my reply I straddle over his lap, mounting his hips with a knowing smile. "I think I'm too old, forgot how to love," He shrugs.
"Az you're not that old," I groan.
"I'm twenty-three times your age," He argues, and my amused grin returns.
"You did the math," I tease, leaning closer to him, and pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips.
"Of course I did, I can't get you out of my head," He grumbles as if it's my fault he's always thinking of me.
"Then why can't you admit that you're in love with me?" I cup his face in my hands, tilting his head and forcing him to look into my eyes.
"I do love you, and that's why I refuse to subject you to the judgment that us being together will bring you," He denies and my smile falters.
"I don't care about the judgment, I just want you," I confess, dragging a hand through his hair. "C'mon, Az," I huff, arching my back so my chest is pressed to his as I tease his lips with my own. His large hands come to my waist, his touch is tender and for a moment I think he'll give in, but instead, his grip tightens and he lifts me off his lap, placing my feet down onto the ground.
"No, the difference is too much," He rejects and I groan dramatically. The Illyrian stands, looking down at me with lowered brows. His height towers over me and his wings only add to the intimidating factor. Such an animalistic thing to do, making himself appear bigger than he truly is. He was trying to scare me off, and it wasn't going to work.
"You're fae, does age really matter as an immortal?" I take a daunting step forward and he mirrors it with a step back.
"When I'm old enough to be your great, great, great grandfather? Yes," He argues and I roll my eyes, such a stupid analogy.
"But you're not," I take another step forward.
"But I could be," He doesn't pace back.
"But, you're not," I repeat with another stride and suddenly I'm directly in front of him, chest to chest. He looks at me, his eyes swirling with both adoration and regret, adoration because he loves me, and regret because he allowed me to love him back. I stare with the most devoting and comforting gaze I can muster, I don't dare break eye contact, making it clear that my stance on the matter won't sway.
"I have tattoos older than you, love," He drags his hand through his hair, and I know in that movement that he's been defeated.
"Oh, I know," I bring my hand up to his neck, my nail tracing over dark ink that's lived there for centuries.
"You're like a friend to—" He tries but I cut him off, "That's bullshit, I could treat you better than all your previous lovers and you know it," I claim and he looks at me with those same hazel eyes I fell in love with.
He sighs, clearly upset because he's horribly losing this argument.
"Your five-hundred-year-old brothers are dating my twenty-year-old sisters. They can't judge and isn't it their opinion that matters most?" I point out and he slowly closes his eyes, needing a moment to think about the situation.
"They're mates," He attempts to explain but I don't buy it for a moment, I sling my arms around the nape of his neck with a troublesome smile.
"Are you trying to tell me you don't feel a connection between us?" I ask and he only stares down at me, knowing that if he spoke all of his truest intentions would come out.
"We're in love, let yourself be happy," I whisper, we're close enough so he can hear me. I lift onto my toes, our noses brushing and he doesn't have it in himself to back away. "Let me help you be happy," I murmur and his brows crease, in conflict with himself and everything else going against this, but I could tell by that look on his face that he wanted every part of this too.
"Do you know how helpless you make me feel?" He rasps and my smile widens.
"That's called love, Az," I explain.
"Is it always so consuming?" He asked, his voice tender and raw. My heart swells against my rib cage and I tilt my head, nose moving past his as I press a gentle kiss onto his lips then pull away as quick as I came.
“Yes,” I whisper, knowing the exact feeling he was describing. “And it’s not going to go away,” I smile softly. "Because you love me," I mumble, mostly to myself, the new confession will be at the front of my brain for the rest of the week.
"A little too much for my liking," He hums.
"Impossible," I shake my head with a grin and he leans in, pressing a hard kiss to my forehead, then one on the tip of my nose, and finally plants one to my lips. I pull him closer, my chest pressing to his as I smile onto his lips, my fingers twining into the back of his hair.
“I do love you,” He whispers against my skin as he begins to peck down the line of my jaw.
“I know,” I tease, dragging my hand from his hair and down the expanse of his tattooed neck. He pulls back only a fraction, narrowing his brows with a glare and I giggle.
“I love you too, Azzie,” I roll my eyes, pressing a tender kiss to his lips which he barely got the chance to reciprocate before I was pulling away.
“I hate it when you call me that,” He huffs.
“Would you rather I call you my great-grandfather?” I smirk and he playfully pushes me away, and I dramatically fall down onto his bed.
“I’m revoking sex tonight for that,” He warned and I smirked.
“Not even for the rest of the week? You must really love me,” I croon and he tosses me a glare before climbing into bed beside me.
“An unfortunate turn of events,” He sighed while slinging his arm around me and pulling me into him, as if it was torturous to be cuddling with me even though it was him pulling me closer.
I sling my leg over his waist and roll over, straddling his hips.
“I can’t believe you ever thought you could reject me,” I scoff and he looks up at me with a knowing expression.
“Shh, sleep now.” He pulls me down onto his chest, my chin propping up on his sternum to stare up at him. “You can tease me all you want in the morning,” He promises as I stretch out, my legs intertwining with his.
“Sounds like a perfect plan.”
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#suriels tea#acotar#fanfic#a court of thorns and roses#sarah j maas#x reader#azriel#request#acomaf#bat boys#azriel x you#azriel fluff#azriel x reader#azriel spymaster#azriel acotar#azriel shadowsinger#acotar fluff#acotar x you#acotar x y/n#acotar x reader#azriel x y/n#drabble#acotar fanfiction#fanfiction#a court of mist and fury#writing#x you fluff#x reader fluff#fluff#comfort fic
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⋆ PRAISING KINK
ft. Baizhu, Xiao, Thoma, Wanderer.
𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 cw. f!reader, worshipping ( baizhu ). ( scara ) is in denial / affectionate, and a dirty talker.
NAVI ⁞ EVENT MASTERLIST
if Baizhu is not constantly littering you with kisses, then he’s certainly praising you.
there’s not a single second that he doesn’t spend mumbling praise against your heated skin. a kiss, then another, then another, trailing down the underside of your breasts, down your ribs and abdomen, lower and lower until he needs to breathe, opting instead to nuzzle on your skin with soft words, “there is not an inch of you that I don’t find absolutely perfect” he murmurs, another kiss below your belly button, “you’re stunning” kiss, “incredible” kiss.
“the most delicious meal I’ve ever had” he also groans, tentatively sliding his tongue across your clit and slit, collecting your juices on the muscle, “so responsive too” seconds, hours, minutes all merge in one as Baizhu languidly eats you out, taking his time in savoring your dripping pussy, pushing you towards the edge with those skilled fingers of his.
a mess of constant reassurance and praising is what always comes out of Xiao’s mouth the second his cock is pushing into you, holding his breath while the tip stretches you, “are you alright?... you... you feel so good” he almost whines, letting our shaky exhalations with each passing second.
“m-mhm” you murmur back, holding onto your lover tightly with your limbs around his trembling body, “move...”
a hum escapes Xiao’s lips before he’s moving, gently rolling his hips against your cunt and smearing your slick all over his pelvis, “fuuck— so perfect” each word is accentuated by a sharp thrust, jolting your body up and down the mattress alongside am ocasional creak of the bed.
“do you feel good?” he asks next, cupping your chin between his fingers, waiting for your soft nodding, a gentle ‘yes’ or anything that encourages him to keep going, to angle his hips in the perfect direction so you’re both panting, mindlessly fucked silly with soft ‘i love yous’ mumbled on each other’s mouths.
to Thoma, ensuring your comfort and pleasure was a top priority whenever you had sex, gently gripping your thigh and perching it on his hip, then leaning down to gently rub your nose with his, “comfortable?” not really... considering how he was sheathed to the base, with no signals of moving without first making sure you were feeling good.
you nod gently, caressing the tips of his blonde hair while staring deep into his eyes, rewarded by a wide smile, “that’s my girl, tell me if you want me to stop, alright?” and with that, he’s gripping your other thigh, dangling off his shoulder as he presses into you, raising until just the tip remains inside to then push down again, “mm, yeah, taking me so well...” Thoma murmurs, breathing coming out unsteady with each thrust, with each smack of his hips against yours.
“you’re feeling good, aren’t you?” he smiles down on you, not needing a response before he’s peppering your face with kisses, “of course you are, those pretty, tear filled eyes of yours never lie”
“what did you— oh, fu-fuck!... u-ugh do?” is what Wanderer asks with his fingers digging on your hips so tightly that it might leave a mark later.
yet he doesn’t let you speak, too gone, too lost in the pleasure your dripping pussy provides while bouncing on his cock, mostly guided up and down by your boyfriend, “you feel... too damn good!” it’s mostly a complaint, one that doesn’t really sound like one with the way his breathing hitched and eyes almost rolled back, “fuck... your pussy is going to kill me”
a bit of an exaggeration you believe, but considering the way his jaw hung slack, staring into the spot where your bodies connected, you believe him.
“the prettiest pussy to ever exist... so tight, so fucking warm” he groans, letting his head lean back against the bed headboard, eyes shut and letting you ride him to your heart’s content, a bit too overwhelmed by your gorgeous body to keep on babbling.
#baizhu smut#baizhu x reader#baizhu x you#xiao smut#xiao x reader#thoma smut#thoma x reader#wanderer smut#wanderer x reader#scaramouche smut#genshin smut#genshin impact smut#genshin baizhu smut#genshin xiao smut#genshin thoma smut#genshin wanderer smut#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader
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i dont know if your asks/requests are open so please feel free to ignore this (also if it makes you uncomfortable) but could you do batboys seeing you after a big event taking all the stuff off, like getting unready ig
my bf saw me peeling off my boob tape and heard me scream then said that im never allowed to wear that dress again 😭😭
Not the boob tape 💀sorry for taking so long and Dick and Jason were the only ones my little overworked brain could think of for this one. 🐿️🦦
Dick
‘Would you like some help with that?’ He’d ask cheekily from behind you.
‘You just want an excuse to see me naked, perv.’ You replied, pushing him away by the face with a smile.
‘Twas only a suggestion my love.’ Dick laughed as he raised his hands in defence.
‘Yeah a suggestion of which would allow you to see me naked.’ You reiterated as you sat yourself on the edge of the bed to take off your shoes that had been killing your feet the entire night.
Dick pouted. ‘Is that all you see me, your sweet beloved partner, as an undignified pervert with no sense of control over my urges?’ He inquired as he crossed his arms over his chest.
‘Would you like an honest answer to that?’ You asked rhetorically.
‘Would you at least let me message your feet at least?’ Dick pleaded, ‘they must’ve been killing you sweetheart and I know how much you love my full body massages.’ He adds with a little wink, causing you to throw a pillow at him for that suggestive remark before going back to massaging your foot, only to be unable to reach the spots that were killing you the most.
Annoyed, tired and fed up, you then presented Dick with your foot and watched as his face practically light up. ‘Go on then since you’re so eager to please.’
Dick smirked. ‘Don’t I always?’
You pointed warningly at him. ‘Keep this up and I’m going to revoke some of your privileges.’
Dick only smiled as he knelt before you, kissing your exposed knee as his hands trailed up and down your leg before holding your foot. ‘I’m sure after this you’ll retract that statement.’ He confidently tells you and you scoff. ‘Oh yeah? I highly doubt-fuck that’s the spot.’ You groaned as Dick began to massage you foot, finding the source of your discomfort almost immediately.
‘Take back your statement yet my sweet?’ Dick asked teasingly as he peppered your leg with kisses as his chants worked their magic on your foot, easing the aches, the pains and whatever else they could find with ease.
‘Shut up and manage my feet Boy Wonder.’ You replied, pushing a hand through his hair, tugging at it playfully as you allowed yourself to fall backwards and into the bed bellow, unaware of Dick’s staring.
Even as you lied there half undressed you looked like heaven incarnate to him. Tonight had been a big one for the both of you but Dick thought you did wonderful and looked stunning at the same time, however he loved the you he got to see when it was just the two of you, it was a moment where he realised how lucky he was to get to see you like this and he would do anything to keep having as long as you’d stay with him; something he hoped would be the case for a long, long time.
Jason stands in the doorway and watches you get undressed with a fondness in his eyes.
He loves watching you undress already but seeing you undress after a big event that he was forced to attend was something else entirely.
He couldn’t put his finger on it but watching you undress after a long day had become Jason’s favourite thing to do, it tickled a part of him that grew up wanting to watch his partner get ready for the day ahead just as much as watching them get undressed and ready for bed.
He loved getting to see you undress as he got to admire what others couldn’t and he couldn’t help but feel prideful and happy about that. He, Jason Todd, got to see you in a way that others could never begin to understand.
You saw him watching you in the reflective surface of the mirror and couldn’t help but chuckle at the soft look upon his face as butterflies fluttered within your stomach. ‘Can I help you there handsome?’ You asked.
‘Sorry sweetheart, you’re just so beautiful and gorgeous.’ Jason says with a dopey smile stretching across his face.
‘Jay, I’m half naked.’ You chuckled, feeling your cheeks heat up under his gaze, it wasn’t your fault that you managed to have quite possibly the most sweetest, most beautiful man in Gotham calling you all theses sweet things as though it was as easy as breathing.
Jason shrugs. ‘Doesn’t change the fact that you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, half naked or not.’
You didn’t know it was possible to smile harder than you did at that moment, but you somehow managed to as you could almost feel your face split in half from your own smile. ‘That’s high praise coming from the most handsome, most beautiful man I’ve ever laid my eyes upon.’ You replied, looking back at him in time to see him take a deep breath as he walked over to you, hovering his hands over your bare shoulders before you felt the warmth of his palms warm up your shoulders.
‘Well that’s high praise coming from you chipmunk.’ Jason murmured as he kisses your cheek, resting his head atop of one of his hands on your shoulder, looking at your reflection with so much love and affection thst you swore you could’ve melted to a puddle in an instant. ‘Now how about you let me help you out of this thing and we can dress comfortably and head to bed for some cuddles, how does that sound.’ Jason adds and you couldn’t help but lean into him, tiredness making its home within your bones.
‘That sounds like heaven to me.’ You told him, kissing his cheek.
#dc imagine#dc x reader#dc x you#dc fanfic#dc fic#dc comics x reader#dc x y/n#dc fanfiction#jason todd imagine#jason todd fluff#jason todd x reader#jason todd imagines#dick grayson x you#dick grayson imagine#dick grayson imagines#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson fluff#nightwing x you#nightwing fluff#nightwing imagines#red hood x you#red hood imagine#red hood x reader#red hood imagines#nightwing imagine#nightwing x reader
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when did you know you loved me? pt.4/4 ♡
it was rare bunny!reader and rafe got a day off like this. one where the kook princess’s boyfriend wasn’t running off on business, dragging her along or leaving her to run her own personal errands — like getting her nails done or shopping. today, the two of them relaxed on rafe’s boat in the hazy june sunshine. bunny stares off over the water, pondering..
you’re snapped from your thoughts when rafe arrives at your side, giving your ass a little swat and grab the way he always did as you looked over the ledge across the water.
“you good, kid?” he enquires casually as his hand slides up your back to grasp your shoulder, hooking his sunglasses back into his shirt.
“mhm, just thinking.” you muse, leaning into his side a little. you always went a bit brainless around rafe — it was second nature. he did the thinking, it was his job as a provider — well, that’s what he’d tell you anyway, and he’d drilled it into your head enough times for you to remember it.
“m’yeah? thinking about what?” he converses. he’d always get worried when you looked a little too pensive. rafe was an overthinker like that, the nagging voice in the back of his head telling him not to let you think too hard, because you’d uncover all his flaws and leave him. though you knew that could never be the case, rafe had some unpacked abandonment issues that often sat at the surface.
“us.” you hum simply, and his hand slides off your shoulder.
“well what — what are… why?” he struggles his word his concern, a frown forming between his brows.
“jus’ that i love you a lot, and i was thinking about how much i love you.” you shrug, not taking in the edge in his concerned tone. he relaxes a little, nodding though you weren’t looking his way as he draws in a long breath.
“right, yeah… yeah.” he plays it cool, scratching at his cheek before stepping away in the direction of the mini bar, deciding he needed a drink to take the edge off. “well, daddy loves you too, yeah?”
the casual assurance in his tone makes you bite your lip, gaze snapping over to him as he wanders away — and you speak once more, only wanting to prolong the time spent by his side.
“when did you know that you loved me rafey?” it’s a demure request, spoken hopefully through pouty lips and batting lash extensions. he spins around, blinking at you a few times before shrugging his shoulder.
“look, uh — i don’t know. i just did, alright?” he turns his mouth down like he hadn’t given it any thought and your face falls. you forget rafe wasn’t like you. he was a man of logic. fact over feelings (thats what he’d tell people, anyway.) he didn’t have time to ponder such things.
“oh.” you whisper, nodding your head. it wasn’t a big deal. you just wished he would gush over you the way you did him sometimes. he licks his lips, hesitance in his body language when he turns away once more this time, wishing he never saw that disappointment on your face at the way he brushed you off. he was still trying to get used to the whole being open with your feelings thing. his father hadn’t exactly lead by great example.
he cracks open a beer, and five minutes later he’s lounging on the white couch out on the deck, an arm strewn along the back of the seat and the other holding the bottle, reaching out towards you to gesture you over to him.
“come sit with me, dunno why you’re so far away.” he welcomes you, and you quietly pad over in your pink bikini, never once shying away from the unabashed way he watches your body move towards him. “mm. looking good.” he comments quietly before you’re climbing onto the couch and snuggling up to his side. there was no ‘thanks daddy’ or glossy kisses being pressed into him like usual, you were pensive, distant, thoughtful. he knew he’d brushed you off and you were trying so hard to seem like it hadn’t phased you, bless your little bunny heart. after a sigh, the kook begins to speak.
“it was after the whole thing with me getting arrested. you know the… the thing with the sheriff.” he relays, staring ahead over at the water even when you turned your head to gaze at him, blinking slowly in relaxed confusion as to what he was talking about.
“i…i wanted people to respect me, you know? like- like i had proven that i was willing to do anything to protect the people i care about. anything. enough to get me sent to fuckin’ jail, right?” he rambles, before shaking his head with his tongue in his cheek, thinking. you stay quiet, curious as to where this was going. you wanted to give him space to open up.
“but like…ahh, i don’t know. when i got out, people…people didn’t wanna hang with me anymore. i used to be that guy, right like — like everyone wanted to talk to the rafe cameron but after i got bailed out i… people were scared of me. thought i was some… violent, unhinged creature like… like i was some killer.” he squints, shaking his head in disagreement.
a few moments pass as he gathers his thoughts, before he speaks once more, this time glancing at you.
“so a little while after that i was down at the club, you know just… just tryna socialise again, blow off some steam. shit, i even told everyone that beers were on me, you know? free for everyone at the club. went back to go get my golf club, came back n’everyone had left. clearly they still saw me as some kinda monster.”
whilst you was unclear on why he was telling the story, you remembered clearly this time how hard it was for rafe to drag himself back up. he wouldn’t talk about how hard things were, and sure — eventually things had blown over and he was the life of every party once more, but you remembered the shift in atmosphere clearly. it was strange.
“uh…” he clears his throat. “so yeah i uh, i come back and you’re there, right? you’re just sat there by your self at the table… and shit you… you just looked so happy to see me,” he chuckles, shaking his head fondly at the memory. “like, i had left for two damn minutes and you were still happy to see me. you didn’t even — even care that everyone else had left… and that’s real ride or die shit, okay like — someone… someone who’s not gonna just up and leave you when shit gets tough like sarah did with my dad. nah, nah you stuck around. s’when i knew i wanted to put a fuckin’ rock on that little finger.” he takes your hand suddenly, holding it between the two of you like he’s envisioning the ring on your second to last finger, taking a moment to indulge in the fantasy.
you’re grinning ear to ear, understanding the significance of the story now as you flutter your eyelashes.
“rafey…” you coo softly and he shrugs, his wall fighting to come back up.
“yeah, well. you wanted your story, there’s your story.” he brushes it off casually, but even his lips curl up a little into a fulfilled smirk, catching your gaze with an unspoken awe.
“guess what, i loved you the second i saw you so i win.” you giggle and he rolls his eyes, pulling you into his chest.
“yeah? shit i didn’t know it was a competition.” he banters lightheartedly over your giggles, his cold heart thawing at the sound.
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hi jade! ☺️☺️ ur one of my favorite writers gosh you feed my heart everyday
im currently going through my usual body-wrecking periods 🥲 ur fics are helping
could you write something for bombshell! x spencer where maybe deeper into their relationship she is open with him about her period and he comes over to take care of her when her body is aching or she feels nauseous. im thinking some hair playing or some tummy rubbing.
i hope your weekend is lovely 🫶
thank you ❤️❤️❤️ fem, 1k
Can I come over? Are you home
You summon your first smile of the day, reading Spencer’s text.
Don’t know, you text back, can you handle me?
Usually not, but that hasn’t stopped me so far. I’ll bring dinner?
What kind of dinner my love
Maybe Indian? What do you want? I want tandoori chicken
Indian food is awesome if that’s what you want, I’m just messing with you
You can hear his voice in his next text, I know that. So I can come?
You can always come over but I have to warn you, I’m irritable
What’s wrong???
Spencer texts again before you can answer, I’ll come now and we can order delivery, I’ll be right there
You decide to call him before he can make the wrong conclusions. He answers so quickly you laugh down the line. “Spencer, hi, there’s nothing that wrong.”
“What does that mean?”
“You don’t have to rush over.”
“Well, what’s wrong? Did I do something?”
“Why do you always think that, babe? No, you didn’t do anything. You’re actively making me feel better just talking to me.”
Spencer pauses briefly. “Really?”
“Really. I’m on my period, it’s kicking my ass,” you mumble, dropping your face into the soft top of your couch. “It would make me feel so much better if you were here. I want a hug.”
“I’m coming. I haven’t brushed up on my hug skills for a while–”
“You hugged me yesterday before I went home?”
“How would you rate that? On a scale of one to ten?”
“Ten, definitely.” You sigh and stretch out your legs. “No, just, my stomach is hurting and I feel sort of sick from the cramps. I’m a bit… depressed, maybe, so you don’t have to come over if you don’t want to. I might not be good company.”
“You’re always good company, you loon.”
“You what?”
“Sorry, I’m trying to be playful.”
“I know that, you loon,” you say, grinning. “Okay, you better be putting your shoes on. My patience is running out.”
“I’m by the door!” he says, giggles woven through each word. You can picture his smile, his unbuttoned coat. “You feel sick, should I still get dinner?”
“Yes, please. Tandoori chicken for me too, and–”
“I know what you want.”
“Okay, I’m gonna go shower before you get here and see me all disgusting–”
“Don’t you dare.”
“Spencer!” you laugh.
“I’ll run you a bath when I get there. Can you sit down until then?”
“I can’t believe how you’re speaking to me. You used to blush when I said hi.”
“Because you never just say hi. And it’s not like anyone else saying hi, it’s you.”
Spencer lets that kindness sit with you and says goodbye, promising he’ll be there soon with dinner. You hold your sore stomach and wait, flicking through tv channels, craving something warm to eat and a warmer chest to lay your head. Spencer’s hugs are without doubt a ten out of ten experience, he’s weirdly good at them for someone who maybe hasn’t had as many as he deserves. His hands are active as the rest of him stills, rubbing over your shoulders or your chest with care, his hair soft and ticklish on your cheek or his lips right next to your ear.
You’re dozing when he lets himself in. The rustle of a plastic bag awakens your dormant appetite, and you force yourself to meet him in the hallway.
He drops the bag like it isn’t forty dollars worth of food and beams at you. “Hi,” he says, fawning at your sloppy pyjamas. “These are cute, they’re way too big for you.”
You manage to hug him first, your arms around him and face screwed up in his chest. “Hi. My stomach hurts so bad, I missed you.”
“How bad?” he says, dropping his volume. “Have you ever considered you might have endometriosis?”
“Spencer, I love you, can you hug me for now and tell me about it later?”
“Sorry,” he murmurs, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. “Where does it hurt, everywhere?”
“It’s in my back.”
Spencer drops his hand lower. “Oh, here?” He rubs your back, and he leans away enough to see you eye to eye. “Let’s have dinner, then at least you’ll have a full stomach.”
“I don’t know if I can manage it, but I’m starving.”
“You don’t have to eat everything.” He visibly looks you over, one feature at a time. His eyes get stuck on yours, your lashes, and his lovely mouth tips down. “Were you sleeping?”
“Got bored waiting for you. I’m not tired,” you promise.
“It’s okay.” He grasps your back and rubs at it with good pressure, the shard of a cramp held back by his touch. “You okay?”
You lift your chin, turn your head just a touch to one side, asking and not asking. He smiles in that not so secret pleasure as he gives you a quick peck. It’s quick and chaste and everything you need, better when he encourages your face into his neck to give you a last good rub on the back. “Do you wanna sit down? I’ll make you a plate and we can eat on the couch.” He dots a kiss against the highest point of your cheek. “I got you motrin. And tylenol, too.”
“I don’t need any painkillers, you’re gonna rub my back.”
Spencer smiles into your cheek. “Mm, I’ll relax your uterus. Rhythmic touches.”
“That’s one way to say it, sweetheart.”
“How would you say it?” he asks, cupping the back of your neck tenderly.
You deflect, not wanting to make fun of him. “I love you.”
He pulls away, grinning, failing to talk. He's smiling so hard. When he goes in for a third round of hugs, you aren’t surprised.
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