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fayes-fics · 1 day

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Vibe & Vexation

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, Modern AU w/ Regency roleplay

Summary: Watching Pride & Prejudice evokes playtime in Benedict.

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, established couple, Regency era sexual roleplay, teasing, remote vibrator, dirty talk, female orgasm, brief vaginal sex. Also features lake!Darcy!Benedict, anachronistic costumes (just like the real show this season tbh) and absolutely unacceptable use of Jane Austen.

Word count: 2.4k

Authors Note: Yes, the title is a terrible play on Pride & Prejudice. Listen, I don't know what this is either, and I'm posting before I lose my nerve after 3 weeks of writer's block. This is dedicated to @godofstory whose casual comment on one of my fics finally dislodged my brain block. This is modern Benedict roleplaying Regency. Also thanks to @colettebronte for reading through, being kind and saying I haven’t lost my mind. Well, not completely. Err, enjoy? <3

“Ben, don't be silly…”

“Are you suggesting that I wouldn't look dashing in a frilly shirt and snug trousers?” he teases, raising his head from your belly and twisting to look at you, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous glint as the credits roll on the Austen film you've been idly watching on a rainy Sunday.

“No, I'm not saying that,” you chuckle, your fingers touselling his hair. “You look good in everything and nothing…” you tease, enjoying the prideful swell of his chest at your compliment. “But I'm not in the mood to track down Regency outfits for a little sexy role play.”

“Leave the details to me, my love.” He waves a dismissive hand as he flips over and begins to crawl over you. “I will be your Mr Darcy….” he attests, lowering his voice to that rumble which always makes your belly flutter.

“But I don't have a lake in this flat,” you deadpan, perhaps not helpfully referencing a different adaptation, but too distracted to care, his crooked smile hovering right above you now.

“‘Tis a pity,” he agrees, quirking his lips, “but I shall think of something….” he winks before capturing your lips with his.

And, just like that, you forget all about the subject…

—

Two days later

“They didn't have any fusilli, so I got penne; I hope that's okay…” you call out as you enter your flat, dropping the heavy bag of shopping from your shoulder and flinging off your shoes, grateful to be out of them and home.

When there is no answer, you frown. When you texted on your way home, he sent back a list of supplies for dinner.

“Ben…?” you round the corner into the kitchen and realise it's empty, nothing cooking on the hob. “You're not even cooking….?” you raise your arms in a shrugging gesture, nonplussed, apparently talking to yourself in what appears to be an empty flat.

“Ms Bennet….”

His voice rings out resonant, a teasing lilt that has you spinning around. And almost toppling over.

There, in the doorway to your bathroom, is Benedict…. dressed up as a Regency gentleman.

Well, partially dressed. And what he is dressed in is damp and clinging to his skin in a way that gives away absolutely everything about why you cannot resist him. Broad shoulders and a tapered torso, completely visible through the most transparent white frilled shirt you could ever imagine. Snug blue trousers that, again, give everything away. He must have hopped into the shower to achieve this effect, his clothing virtually painted upon his skin.

You literally bite the edge of your tongue.

“Mr Darcy….” you stumble, incapable of any other words, mouth falling open as he saunters towards you with a confident gait, his trousers straining over his thighs as he does so.

“My eyes are up here, Ms Bennet…” he teases as yours ping guiltily to his face, knowing you are being entirely called out for your ogling.

“What if your eyes are the very last thing I am interested in, Mr Darcy?” you finally find your voice, stepping into the role of a feisty, historic heroine you enjoy so much.

“The eyes are the window to the soul…” he tilts his head challengingly, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s Shakespeare, not Austen,” you shoot back pointedly.

“All the world are good and agreeable in your eyes,” he corrects, indeed a quote from Pride and Prejudice. He has obviously been revising—something about that is as adorable as it is arousing.

“You don't fight fair…” you whisper as he closes in on you with a handsome smirk, but it hardly feels like defeat as his long fingers spider up your jacket buttons, the warm fug of his clothes amplifying the mouthwatering scent he wears under them.

“All is fair in love and war,” he counters, sliding nearer, his lips warm on your temple now as he flicks open your topmost button.

“Are you going to talk in literary quotes all night?”

Your ask is much breathier than you intend, very much not a protest about what is transpiring—a tingle down your sternum where his fingers trail over your skin down to the next button. You feel the curve of his cheek against your face from his responding smile.

“I might stop,” he proposes airily. ”But perhaps only to tease you until you pass out…”

“How?”

The question falls from you unbidden, curiosity seizing your lips.

“With the help of things poor Mr Darcy never had access to…” he offers enigmatically. “But for now, how about you go change into your outfit, Ms Bennet?”

“I have an outfit too?” your breath catching at the idea he has planned a whole scenario.

“Oh yes, ‘tis hanging in your room, fair lady,” he mutters, taking a half pace back. But before you go, he grabs your hand, raising it to his mouth and dropping a kiss that is anything but chaste—wet, plush lips with a slight edge of teeth dragging over your knuckles as his hot tongue lathes between your fingers lasciviously.

—

“I'm not sure this is quite Regency accurate…” you assert as you swan back into the living room a few minutes later, even as there is a frisson over your skin at the very sexy outfit he has chosen.

“Perhaps not,” he concedes, his eyes lingering on the pronounced swell of your breasts as you sashay closer. “But yet, I cannot fault my choice.”

“More Marquis de Sade than Jane Austen…” you opine, revelling in his stare, the time spent fastening each hook and eye down the front of the ivory corset worth it for that hungry look and the nascent swelling you see in his clinging trousers. The silk, frilled French knickers he picked out are new, which you are grateful for, but they match perfectly. There was an odd weight to them as you pulled them on, though, but you did not spend much time contemplating it, so keen to get back to the scene.

“Ms Bennet, how dare you turn up to my home so scandalously dressed when I am entertaining company?” he admonishes, his tone suddenly brusque, stepping fully into his roleplay, gesturing to the empty kitchen area as if it were filled with guests.

“Mr Darcy, I can only apologise. I thought you were away on business,” you improvise, clutching your hands over your body in a futile attempt to conceal your state of undress, acting horrified to be caught.

“Do you make a habit of trespassing in my home and flouncing around so slatternly?” he snaps tersely, his eyes flashing approvingly.

You know the question is rhetorical, so you just hang your head, biting your lip, playing at being ashamed and chastised for being so wanton in the home of the man you desire. This is nothing like anything in Pride and Prejudice, but you could not give less of a damn, a flutter low in your gut that this could go somewhere utterly delicious.

“I must insist you desist,” he continues imperiously. “This must never happen again! Now go to my private quarters and think upon what you have done!” he concludes, pointing to the sofa.

“Yes, Mr Darcy,” you nod and curtsy with faux demureness, which he seems to greatly enjoy based on the flash in his eyes, seemingly even more so when you break character and poke out your tongue insolently as you pass.

You take a seat on the sofa and watch, initially confused, as Benedict remains in the kitchen area, play-acting as if he is chatting to guests, supping from a wine glass and gesturing. Puzzled, you watch as he reaches for his phone casually and flicks something on the screen, his back still turned to you.

There is a sudden, sharp buzz in your underwear that steals your breath, your legs tensing, your feet kicking out reflexively, sliding your clit heavier against the vibration.

Oh fuck.

That’s why the underwear felt oddly weighted. He must have snuck a thin remote vibe pad into the lining.

He makes a half-turn and smirks over his shoulder as you pant and stare at the play of his back muscles under his translucent shirt, your fingers clawing into the sofa at the sudden not-at-all-gentle onslaught.

“Ms Bennet, are you quite well?” he calls out, a triumphant look claiming his face. “You appear somewhat flushed.”

“Mr Darcy, I find myself in a most perplexing dilemma,” you grit out between clenched teeth, impressed you can even form words. The vibe is a persistent thrum that you attempt to tilt yourself away from slightly but seem unable, always there, dragging against you in a way that makes you writhe, your back arching.

He spins around to face you entirely now, putting down his wine glass, phone casual in the other hand, thumb hovering portentously over the screen with a gleeful mien.

“What troubles you, Ms Bennet?”

His lilt is teasing and velvet, humming in your bones as much as the toy. The vibration suddenly ceases, and you collapse back into the sofa, panting mildly, the corset restricting your ability to take the gulps of air you need, your chest heaving, unable to do anything but stare slack-jawed at him.

“Have you quite forgotten your words, Ms Bennet? I thought you a creature of learning…” he needles, the painted-on regency garb he wears just more temptation, his cock straining against the wool now. He makes no move to draw closer, but he does flick open the buttons around his wrists and roll up his sleeves, his toned forearms flexing as he does so.

“I am a woman of learning,” you defend after a pause, “but I find myself rather disadvantaged tonight. I suspect deception…” You narrow your eyes at him.

He throws his head back and laughs, his Adam's apple bobbing prominently as he does so. It makes you want to pitch forward and bite it.

“Whoever would deceive such a fine woman as you?” he fires back as he tilts back down. You cry out as his thumb yet again swipes over his screen, and your underwear roars back to life—this time a softer pulsing wave, but no less titillating, an inflaming tease that staccatos against your engorged flesh.

“You might, Mr Darcy…” you accuse, but it's lighthearted at best, a toothless threat as all of your efforts are focussed on the fizzing pleasure radiating out into your pelvis.

“On the contrary, Ms Bennet. In vain have I struggled…” he begins.

That speech.

“It will not do….” he adds, shaking his head for good measure as he flicks open the buttons upon his soaked shirt, your eyes tracking the movement as each new slice of damp, heated skin is revealed in the soft, low lamplight.

“My feelings will not be repressed…”

He peels the sodden shirt from his form, and you moan as that honed body is revealed to you, glistening slightly. The vibe is a roiling wave against your clit that makes your pussy clench around nothing, wishing to be filled.

“You must allow me….” he pauses and lopsidedly grins as he roughly tugs upon the buttons of his trousers, a teasing striptease that has you spiralling fast, leaking copiously into your knickers now.

“Allow you what…?” you throw in, huffing against the restriction of the corset, something about its tight hold escalating your addled state, moaning as he drops the last vestige of his clothing, his cock springing free. His whole being glowing with pride in how much he can affect you.

“To tell you how ardently I admire and love you….” he concludes, his voice dark and smooth, settling over your skin like warm molasses as he finally prowls towards you.

You want to pitch forward and nuzzle your face into his cock. But he dips down as he approaches, pushing your legs far apart with his hands and falling to his knees, burying his face into your cleavage. He suckles vehemently on the swell of your chest, lathing his tongue over your flushed skin as you fight to gasp in enough air, the vibe and his lush mouth hurtling you fast towards oblivion, his hands a firm grip on your hips.

“I love you too, Mr Darcy,” you gulp in delayed response. “But, please release me from this torture…” you append weakly, needing reprieve from the prolonged hold.

“Is it not the sweetest torture, though?” he argues back as his nose trails up your clavicle to your neck, his mouth earnest upon a spot that always makes you pliant. “I want to see you struggle, my love, bound in my corset, sat upon my vibe, teased and vexed until you can take no more….” his words are a sinful soliloquy gusting almost wistfully into your ear, your lobe snagged under his teeth.

“Take pity upon me, please; I am distressed,” you appeal, feeling a slight wooziness as you circle a chasm of pleasure that licks teasingly at your edges.

“You are beautiful,” he counters, a firm hand cupping the back of your head and puppets you to stare into his blown pupils, his rigid cock trailing a sticky line over your thigh as he rumbles more debauched. “Now come for me, Ms Bennet, and then I shall have you…”

You screw your eyes shut just as he flicks to a higher setting on the vibe and can no longer fight or struggle, letting your body break, febrile, a dew on your back as it arches, you screaming to the ceiling as you are thrown into the stars and the earth at the same time, torn in a hundred directions by the intense pulse radiating out from your core and fanning across your whole body, every muscle tensing and releasing in a sudden wave.

Hazily, you hear his jubilant praises ringing in your ears, but it feels far away even as his hands and mouth are hot and heavy on your skin, ripping the corset and knickers from your body with a vehemence that would shock you were you in less of a euphoric, altered state. He pulled you bodily to the edge of the sofa, teasing his cock against your throbbing clit, making you groan and paw at him, the need rising again as you return to your surroundings.

“You have bewitched me body and soul,” he pants as he slides into your body, a surging insistence that has your fingernail curling into the sinew on his forearms, your toes curling around the fuzzy meat of his thighs. “I never wish to be parted from you for a second. I love you..,” his tone rough, broken, stuttering as he bottoms out inside you, quoting the film you watched together the other night before taking you urgently towards another blissful peak.

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shoyudon · 3 days

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DON'T STICK YOUR HAND UP THE VENDING MACHINE .ᐟ

starring. toji fushiguro x fem! reader

heads up. cursing

note. I DON'T KNOW WHY THIS CAME UP TO ME SO SUDDENLY? BUT IT DID AND IT WOULD BE SO SAD IF I DIDN'T WRITE IT SKJDKJSK

VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who received a call from the mall he works in because apparently someone's arm got stuck inside a vending machine right in the basement parking before he was going to go home from a long day.

VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who saw you sitting down on the floor in front of the vending machine, your head leaning on it — he could hear a string of curses escaping from your mouth as you moved your arm a bit. frankly, he finds it pretty funny that you were owning up to the consequences of your own actions.

"has nobody told you that y'r not supposed to put your hand up the vending machine?" toji mutters, almost satisfied.

you rolled your eyes, "just get me out of this."

VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who had to endure at least the next fifteen minutes of you complaining about the same vending machine that you got stuck in, from the start of the alphabet till' the end.

"this thing ate my money, there's no way 'm leaving without my drink. stupid vending machine," you muttered out — toji trying his best to get your arm out without trying to possibly hurt you. honestly, he could care less about you getting hurt; he just didn't want his paycheck to be cut for your medication bills.

VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who finally got your arm out after half an hour, and got your drink out for you to shut you up from more complaints. it was a can of cold black coffee, which was what you needed after a twelve hours shift.

"thanks," you tell him — shoving the can of coffee inside your bag, "uh . . . do i need to pay for getting my arm out or should i just like . . . leave?"

he scoffs, "leave."

VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who only got back to his apartment two hours later than usual because you decided it was the best time to get your arm stuck in the vending machine over ¥120 (approximately $0.77).

VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who got a glass of boba from your workplace the next day because you felt bad he had to waste his time helping you after you got stuck. in your defense, you didn't want to waste your money.

"uh, i don't know if you like boba — i made it less sugar since you don't seem like the type to eat a lot of sugar, you know?" you pointed at his build, "but thanks for helping me last night."

VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who begrudgingly accepted your drink and scoffed when he tasted it, 'less sugar' he thought taking another sip, biting onto the chewy boba coated with brown sugar liquid.

you were right about one thing, how he doesn't really like consuming too much sugar. despite the drink being 'less sugar' he still thought there was too much sugar — and despite that, he still managed to finish a whole glass of it, even chewing the last bit of ice.

VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who actually saw you in your workplace when he was called to fix a vending machine inside the mall. taking in a customer's order, looking really stressed when more customers decided to pop in. huffing, he decided to stop by just to mess with you.

"so . . . what's the best thing y'got in here?" he mutters.

you look at him, eyes narrowed. but this was him, the vending machine maintenance as your customer, "brown sugar boba, fresh milk red bean matcha boba, red bean mochi fresh milk," you explained, pointing to every picture on the menu you just mentioned.

VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who decided it was best to mess with you even more, bringing back his complaint about the drink you made him this morning.

"red bean mochi fresh milk, less sugar." toji underlines, taking out his wallet — even if he didn't want to buy a glass of sugar after drinking one earlier this morning.

"that will be ¥320 (approximately $2.07), please."

he huffs, "people pay that much for a glass of sugar?" and then he slid a couple of bills towards you.

"you're paying that much for sugar, you're one to say," you retort back, opening the cash register to return back his change and a small paper of his bill.

"one star for bad service," he muttered, grabbing back his change.

VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who for some reason, gets the most random call from inside the mall asking for the vending machine to be fixed. maybe because he doesn't fix them whole-heartedly just so he could mess with you by ordering the most outrageous drinks — at first it started out as little mocking smiles, and gestures.

but he felt as if that wasn't enough, so he decided to take a step further by messing with you on your job, urging you to make the smallest mistakes.

"brown sugar boba, with ten percent of brown sugar liquid. and five percent of sugar. if it's too sweet, i want my money back," he grunted. he meant to tease you — but the way he said it made him sound so serious that you were nervous about messing up his order.

even if he did say that he would return it every single time, he never really does.

VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who saw a customer complaint over something you didn't make — and he couldn't really do anything except watch. it wasn't like he was about to risk his own job by creating a scene in a boba shop. he sipped away on his order, which in his opinion was still too sweet, but he said nothing.

"i asked for no sugar, why is this still so sweet?" a man complains, raising up his royal milk tea with boba; which toji could see is half-empty. hell, the man's still chewing on his boba as he speaks.

"i apologize sir, but even our base milk tea powders are still a bit sweet, that's where the sweetness is coming from," you explained, looking at him apologetically, "would you like me to do anything for you, sir?"

the man grunted, "no, it's just disappointing," he muttered out, shooting you a dirty look before turning to leave the shop — toji eyed the male but said nothing. he was glad his work didn't require him to communicate with people besides getting a call to fix a machine.

VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who actually stopped messing with you and just drops by to order his drinks because he noticed how stressed you look at that man's complaint. he just didn't want to be the reason why you get fired.

"brown sugar boba, make it less sweet," he muttered — shoving his hand down into his pocket to grab the exact change he needed to pay.

VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who actually took a two weeks break from buying your boba because he was actually afraid he'd get diabetes from the huge amount of sugar he was consuming in such a short amount of time.

and you seek for his appearance — which never happened, until he decided to come back while you were sitting down on the floor, shoving your face into the instant ramen you bought from the convenience store this morning before your shift.

"oh! it's you, you came back!" you put the cup on top of the counter and wiped your hands, walking towards the cashier.

VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who spent most of his time in the boba shop until he's called somewhere else. he'd usually spend his hours inside the maintenance staff room on the secluded part of the mall, but now? he wastes his time inside a small boba shop in the middle of the mall; even if he said nothing or you were too busy to talk to him.

he still stayed because he likes it there, even without you both talking. he didn't feel as lonely as the hours spent inside the staff room alone.

VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who actually enjoyed it when you strike conversations with him during the peaceful flow of the boba shop, asking the most random questions from his zodiac sign to his favorite soda flavor, or his favorite way to eat eggs.

"i like sunny side ups, they're good," you tell him, wiping the sweat that was forming on your forehead — the both of you ended up talking about your schedules and shifts of work, which you both find out how the both of you mostly have 12 hours shifts.

VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who actually found you stranded after a shift because you missed the last bus, and he ended up giving you a ride on his old motorcycle. he's never really had a human backpack behind him on his motorcycle, so he didn't really care about speeding — at least until you told him to slow down a bit because it was a bit scary.

"thanks for the ride, toji. i owe you another one, how about a drink tomorrow? just make sure to drop by, 'ts on the house!" you gave him a thumbs up, giving back the only helmet that he made you use.

VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who actually came back to your shop the very next day to get that free drink of his from you — and this time, you managed to make it just right. not too sweet, he could get used to that.

"i like this one, 'ts not too sweet," he comments, raising up the glass of boba drink, "why couldn't ya' make me one like this since the beginning when i asked for less sugar?" he asked you.

"because that's my own recipe. 'ts not on the menu, but i'm still paying for it, y'know?" you raised your brows, eyeing him from inside the bar, "i wanna open my own boba shop in the future, it's fun."

VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who actually became your personal driver because he was the one who asked you to. even if you declined at first since you didn't want to burden him — but he actually insisted, surprising.

"don't care, we're goin' the same direction anyways," he handed you a helmet (that he actually rummaged through the garage through for, washed it, and dried it just for you), "the bus' full of weirdos at night."

VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who managed to get close to you in the next few months; he never did expect it, him getting close to a girl, but he was actually kind of glad he did get close to you.

"hey toji, eat lunch with me. i'm on break right now!" you peeked inside the maintenance staff room where he sat, a water bottle in his grasp. he'd usually decline, hell, he even declined his co-workers— but you? he could only sigh and gave out a curt nod, "look what i got."

toji hated everyone. but when you came into his world, he could make exceptions.

VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who hated it when he feels his heart flutter, he doesn't like the way his stomach churns every time he sees you do anything or see you in general. the way he craves for more of your smile, your laugh, everything about you. it made him feel uneasy— especially when he's never felt all that before.

it was a strange feeling to him, and he didn't like it. toji's never one for relationships, love, and all that. he doesn't know how to do it, he was afraid he'd end up hurting you instead. maybe, maybe that's why he decided to put some distance between the both of you.

VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who always fixes vending machines inside the mall the right way, making sure he doesn't have to go back in and see your face. as much as he wanted to, he didn't want to see you and feel the fluttering all over again when he's tried so hard to stop it (which wasn't working, by the way).

VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who tries not to spend time inside the maintenance staff room because he knew you'd always try to come see him there during times when he wasn't idling by your work place. he felt bad every time his co-worker told him that you came by looking for him.

"hey fushiguro, i forgot to tell you, the boba girl was looking for you again this afternoon," his co-worker informed, putting on his jacket, ready to leave.

VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who kept this on for at least the next three months. everywhere you were, he turns away and walk the other way making sure the both of you won't bump into each other. don't think you didn't notice his act though, noticing how he stopped replying to your messages, how he doesn't come up to meet you in your work place anymore, or how he walks by your shop like he doesn't know you every time he was asked to fix a machine inside the shop.

you wondered if you did something that might made him mad at you — but no matter what, you just couldn't figure out what. and if he wasn't willing to talk to you, hell, even spare a glance at you, how were you going to find out.

VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who grumbled under his breath when he got a call right as he was about to clock out of work. begrudgingly walking down towards the basement where the vending machine was; god, people just had to ruin his day.

opening the basement door, there he saw you— sitting on the ground with an arm stuck inside the vending machine. a case of deja vu, this was exactly like how you both met.

VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who was silent while he was working out on your arm, wondering why in the hell would you try to reach up for a drink even after the first time you got yourself stuck. but he said nothing anyways. you did.

"are you gonna talk to me now?" you ask him while he was trying to free your arm, "i wasted my money to get my arm stuck and you're still not willing to talk to me?"

he almost scoffed, you did this on purpose, "so you did this on purpose?"

"no, i had a purpose. why're you ignoring me like we don't know each other? tell me what i did wrong so i can fix it," you mutter out angrily, crossing an arm across your chest, "you just ghosted me, why?"

VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who didn't think it mattered a lot to you — but seeing to this extent you'd go, he could only shut his mouth. letting his hand do the freeing.

"so, you're just gonna act like we're strangers? 'kay, fine by me then," you reply, deciding to shut up for the rest of the procedure, waiting for him to free your arm.

VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who decided it was the best timing to confess to you, who had one arm up stuck inside a vending machine. all because he just wanted to get rid of the burden on his mind about you.

"listen, i get this feelin' every time i'm near you. and i don't fuckin' like it, makes me feel all warm and soft. i fuckin' hate it. i don't hate you, jus' don't get the wrong idea or shit." he muttered, pulling your arm out from the machine — packing his stuff up to leave.

VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who got stopped by you when he was about to leave for the night.

"'s that a confession or what? if you're going to confess, the least you could do is do it right. that was lame," you tell him, holding onto the hem of his shirt, "do it all over, with nicer words, and a nicer tone."

VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who shook his head, not wanting to repeat his moment of vulnerability to the first person he was most vulnerable most. toji hated being so weak in front of people, especially you.

"no, who said 't was a confession anyways?" he questions, obviously a lie, looking at you with a raised brow.

you let go of his shirt and waved your hand, "fine then, let's not speak anymore since you want it to be that way," he stares at your back in confusion as you try to walk away out of the basement, "goodbye," you mutter out, a bit of hope that he'd stop you.

which he did, and you breathe out in relief, "'ts late, the last bus left already. i'll drop you at home," he murmurs out, scratching his nape.

VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who handed you the same helmet you usually wore, never getting rid of it in the first place. bringing you home for the first time after three months — nobody spoke a word to each other, and it was definitely awkward. hopping off his bike, you returned back the helmet to him and began walking back towards your house.

"hey," he calls out to you.

VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who sucked up his ego and confessed to you in a "nicer" way and tone like you told him to. and he of course, managed to butcher it up again.

"i don't fuckin' hate you. i just tolerate you more than i tolerate other people," he retorts. seeing the unimpressed look on your face made him think twice, "okay. i like you, just— bye," and then he left just like that without trying to hear your reply.

VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who didn't expect a glass of boba on his staff room with a small note, and he knew it was from you.

'i like you too, why did you leave last night?'

because he was scared you'd reject him, that's why. but now that you made it clear that you weren't going to reject him, he was more relaxed. but the thought of meeting you face to face after last night made him nervous all over.

VENDING MACHINE MAINTENANCE! TOJI who was actually surprised when you weren't as awkward as he is upon meeting him after last night. peeking your head inside the staff room like the usual — he turned to look and there you were already jumping onto him.

"hey! why did you leave so fast last night? i didn't even get to answer you yet," he grumbled under his breath when you brought it up yet again.

"because i was afraid y're gonna reject me, happy?" he asks, "but you didn't so 'm not afraid anymore, i guess."

"what does this make us?" you replied back playfully, nudging his bicep with your elbow, "hm? hm?"

"friends," he teased, his face flat.

"hey!"

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #toji #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro fluff #toji fluff #toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen toji #jjk toji #toji x female reader #toji fushiguro x female reader

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lokis-army-77 · 12 hours

Text

Sweet Treat

older!Eddie Munson x fem reader

Word Count: 3.4k

It's hot out and you see your older neighbor mowing his lawn. Lucky for you he invites you inside for a sweet treat.

Warning: 18+ I will block you if you are under 18 or have no age in your blog. oral (f receiving), p in v, fingering, like the slightest amount of food play, 40s eddie, 20s reader, fem reader, just a bit of cum eating

Thank you to my beta readers @munson-blurbs, @lofaewrites, @emma-munson and @littlexdeaths

Masterlist

It was sweltering outside, like hell was no longer a fictional place made up by religion but real, and its flames had reached Hawkins. The sun beat down on you so intensely that you thought your skin was melting.

You berate yourself for thinking that taking a walk outside in the middle of summer would be anything but awful and yet you're here.

Sweat dripped from your forehead as you finally made it back to your home, but instead of going straight inside something stopped you in your tracks.

Your neighbor, or your hot older neighbor, had started mowing. The sound of the motor roaring to life caught your attention, and the sight of the 45-year-old without his shirt on kept it.

The sun shining onto his sweat-soaked skin made him look ethereal, like a god on earth. It made your mouth water and your nerves vibrate.

He caught your eye a moment later and waved, you waved back and then made yourself look busy by checking your mailbox, nothing was there. You didn't want him to know you were gawking at him.

It must not have worked because as soon as the mower had turned on, it turned off and you heard your name being called in that deep timber.

You walk down your driveway, closer to where he sat on his machine.

"Hi, Mr. Munson," you greeted with a smile.

He sighs, "Thought I told you to call me Eddie."

You respond with a giggle, "I know, I just do it to aggravate you."

"Ah, so you think you're funny?"

"Oh, I know I am."

Eddie just chuckles at that, shaking his head.

Reaching a hand up, you wipe the sweat from your brow.

"Sure is hot."

"It is. You wanna come inside, I've got some cold water and a bit of butter pecan ice cream if you want any." He offers.

You wrinkle your nose, "Butter pecan? That's such an old man flavor."

"No, it isn't."

"Yes, it is. The only people who eat and enjoy butter pecan are over the age of 40." You enjoy the banter that usually flows between the two of you. It makes your stomach flutter and your knees weak.

He just rolls his eyes. "Well then, Sweetheart, I think I have just a bit of chocolate in the freezer with your name on it."

You finally walk up next to him as he stands from the mower. "Don't I just feel special."

Eddie looks at you smugly. “Ladies first.” He gestures for you to walk in front of him and you oblige.

There’s a swing to your hips that you hope catches his attention, especially with how much skin is exposed from the workout shorts you were wearing. You hear him cough, clearing his throat and you know it worked.

“Door’s unlocked,” he calls as you bound up the stairs.

Upon entering the house you’re hit with a blast of cold air. The AC was definitely turned down as far as it could go, it felt almost like a freezer.

Eddie enters only a moment after you, letting the door slam closed. He glides past you, a hand barely grazing our hip as he does. You follow him closely.

It's bright enough in the kitchen that he doesn't bother flipping the light on. He heads straight for the fridge.

Your eyes rake over him, taking in the flex of muscles as he bends to open the sliding freezer door. The way his arms bulge when he rummages through the depths had your mouth watering.

Giving a long sigh, Eddie stands up straight and turns to you with a pint of ice cream in hand.

“Looks like it's just old people ice cream if the princess is alright with that.”

“Oh, it's princess now?” You ask, taking a seat on the barstool next to the kitchen island.

Eddie shrugs, “Fits better since you're apparently too good for the best ice cream known to man.”

“I am not.”

He scrunches his face, you think it's cute. “I beg to differ.”

“I'm not, I'll eat your ice cream, no problem.”

“So you aren't going to complain that it's for old people?” He asks, settling at the counter next to you.

“Just open the carton.” You give his arm a slight shove.

He does as you say and pushes it closer to you before offering a spoon.

You take it and thank him before scooping a tiny bit of the sweet treat out. It's cold on your tongue and you hate to admit it but it was good.

“S'good isn't it?”

“Eh, it's okay.” You say, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of being right.

Taking another scoop, this time you bring the spoon slowly into your mouth, lapping up the ice cream in a more sensual manner as you make eye contact with the other man. Just barely, you can see his pupils dilate taking you in.

“You’ve got a little-” Eddie makes a vague gesture to the corner of his mouth.

Giggling a bit, you fein ignorance of the ice cream you let collect at the corner of your mouth. “Here?” you ask as you wipe at the opposite side.

And just as you thought he would, Eddie reaches over and smoothes his thumb over your lip, collecting what was there. Your breath hitches when he brings his thumb to his mouth and licks it clean. The sight of his tongue wetting the digit and the glisten of saliva in the light had your legs clenching.

You want him to do it again.

So, with another bite of ice cream, you make what you’re doing more obvious, letting the spoon paint the white treat over your lips. You know what it must look like, salacious and borderline inappropriate if your mind was in the gutter, which is where you know Eddie’s is at that moment.

He takes a deep, shaky breath, “Fuck-” He’s surging toward you before you can even comprehend it. Soft, plump lips connect with yours. You freeze in shock for just a moment, then you kiss him back.

The spoon in your hand drops to the counter, rattling loudly. You reach your arms around his neck and pull him into you. Eddie slips his tongue between your lips and lets out a groan. He tastes like butter pecan and something you can’t quite place, something you can only describe as Eddie.

You can’t get enough and just when you start to wrestle your tongue against his, he pulls away and creates a space between the two of you.

A hand rubs over his face and he sight. “We can’t be doing this.” His tone is reluctant.

Furrowing your brows, you ask, “Why not?”

Eddie looks at you and flits his eyes from your kiss-swollen lips to the dismayed expression in your eyes. “Are you serious? I’m too old for you.”

“Last I checked, 45 wasn’t that old.”

“Sweetheart, I have tattoos older than you.” He shakes his head.

“Eddie, I’m a grown adult who knows what she wants and to put it frankly, you have been at the top of that list for quite some time.” You pause to examine his expression. His brow is cross and he’s gnawing on the inside of his cheek. “Is it my consent that you need? Because you have it.”

“God, this is probably a bad idea,” he whispers to himself and then he's on you once more. His large hands squeeze at your waist until they find their way under the fabric of your tee. Your own hands cling to his shoulders, keeping yourself balanced so you don’t fall off the bar stool.

Eddie bites your lip, tugging it lightly when he pulls away. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to kiss you. How long I’ve wanted to have my hands on you, to feel you.” He says, breathless.

He kisses down your neck, sending a shiver down your spine and a tingle wherever his lips meet your skin.

“Eddie-” You moan.

“Hum?”

“I want you to do more than kiss me.”

That stops him in his tracks. He pulls away for a second time and you can’t help the whimper it brings out of you.

“You’re sure?”

As much as you were grateful for his concern, it was really getting in the way of you trying to have him fuck the daylights out of you.

“Yes, I’m sure.” You pull him in for a deep kiss before whispering against his lips, “So, are you going to fuck me or am I going to have to take matters into my own hands?”

The smirk he gives you is cocky. “C’mere, Sweetheart.” He grabs at you, pulls you from the stool, and moves you to the island countertop. He wastes no time in ridding you of your shirt and bra.

His tongue licks a long, wet line from the side of your neck down to the elastic waistband of your shorts.

Slowly but surely, he begins to pull the fabric down Your legs. He stops in surprise when He sees you aren't wearing anything underneath.

A deep chuckle vibrates in his chest. “Did you know this would happen, Sweetheart?” He left an open-mouthed kiss on the inside of your thigh. “Hum? Plan to seduce me with those short fucking shorts only to not have any panties on?”

Shaking your head you mumble out “No.”

“It sure does look like it, princess.” Eddie teases you with his fingers, using them to spread you open gently. His eyes glaze over with lust. “Fuck, baby… so pretty and wet for me.”

The sudden rush of arousal washes over you, leaving your skin flushed and your cunt fluttering around nothing.

He leaves wet kisses all over the sensitive skin, moving from your apex to your thigh, right where the artery was. Taking the plush meat there into his mouth, he sucked, soothing his tongue over where his teeth bit down gently. There was no doubt a mark would be there when he pulled away.

You watch him, elbows planted on the counter to prop yourself up. Just looking at him makes your heart beat faster.

“Eddie,” you moan as you widen your legs.

He hums against you as he sucks his way back to your center. With lidded eyes, he looks up at you just as his mouth attaches to your clit.

Choking out a gasp, you let your head fall back between your shoulders.

Eddie’s hands wrap around the back of your legs, gripping them firmly and guiding them over his shoulders. The noises coming from where he was connected to you had butterflies fluttering in your stomach. He'd only just started but it felt like with every even suck and precise lick of his tongue, You were melting into a puddle around him.

Soon your arms became weak and you had to lay flat. Your hands had a mind of their own as your body writhes under Eddie's expert mouth. His hair quickly fell from the loose knot that kept it out of his face when you ran your hands through it.

You could tell Eddie liked it too much, hips bucking into nothing When you tugged on the salt and pepper strands. His moans sent vibrations through you.

“Eddie, fuck, Eddie- you feel so good,” you can't help but babble when you feel two thick fingers begin to penetrate your entrance.

There's an audible pop when he releases you from his mouth. “Yeah? Imagine how good my cock's gonna feel, Sweetheart.” He removes your legs from his shoulders as he begins to stand.

Tilting your head, you gaze at him. Following down his nose, over his wet lips, down along the tattoo of a sneak that started at his shoulder and curled down his bicep. With him closer now, you could see more of those tattoos littering his skin and the trail of hair that led from his navel down.

You clench around his fingers at the thought of whatever was hiding behind those basketball shorts. You wanted it, needed it, inside of you.

Eddie's fingers massaged into you, the calloused pads pushing into your soft insides. “Right there!” You pant when he pushes into a particularly sensitive spot. “Right there! Don't stop!”

He doesn't, he keeps a strong steady pace with his fingers hitting the mark every single time. It had your toes curling and your head swirling with pleasure.

Unknowingly, you clamped your hand over your mouth as you began to moan.

Eddie pushes your hand away. “Don't cover those pretty moans, wanna hear how good I make you feel.”

Nodding, you keep your hands away. Occupying one by gripping your breast and the other, slipping it down to massage over your clit.

The added stimulation makes your legs snap shut and your body goes ridged. You were hurled over the edge so fast that your vision was almost white.

Eddie kept his fingers pumping into you despite the added obstacle. You could hear the wet sound growing louder as your body shook with release and your lungs cried out.

“That's it, princess, give it all to me.”

“Eddie-” you cry out to him. “Feels- ah fuck, I feel so good.”

He hums in approval.

“You make me feel so good.”

Eddie pulls his fingers from your dripping cunt and licks them clean. “God, you're delicious. Put that ice cream to shame.”

He pulls you by your hips down the counter, closer to him, and places a firm kiss on your lips. You'd never liked the taste of yourself before but that salty tangy mixed with the sweetness of Eddie's tongue had you melting and wanting for more.

You want to feel him inside of you. No, it's not a want, it's a need. A need so strong you think you might cry if you don't have I'm in the next five seconds.

Pulling away, you give Eddie a look. One so filled with lust and longing, you know he won't be able to resist.

“What is it, princess?” He asks, moving back in to kiss marks on your neck.

Your fingers tug on his hair and you sigh. “I need-”

“What do you need?”

“I need you to fuck me.” The buck of your hips punctuated every word.

“S'that right, Sweetheart? Need me to use this pretty cunt?”

You groaned, nodding excitedly when he started backing up. As he did so, he knocked over what was left of the ice cream. It was melted now and its contents flowed onto the counter.

Eddie smirked as he took the carton and instead of sitting it back up, he poured it onto your skin. The splashes of the now liquid dessert were cold on your hot skin. He gives you a salacious wink before lapping up what he had tipped onto you.

“Eddie!” You gasp, surprised by his actions.

He paced you no mind, cleaning the stickiness from your skin, and pulled back. Acting as though nothing had happened, he began tugging at the drawstring of his shorts.

The outline of his cock was impressive, you had always imagined it would be the biggest you'd ever had. And as his shorts and boxers fell from his hips down his toned legs, you were proven right.

Saliva pooled in your mouth at the sick of him. Long and thick and stood at attention. Your eyes flicked from the flushed tip of his cock to his eyes and then back down again a few times before he chucked. Asking “See something you like?”

“Yeah…” you were breathless just looking at it.

Anticipation begins to build, your heart beating faster as he lined himself up. Your legs spread wider, letting Eddie nestle in. He gives the sensitive skin a tap with his cock before sliding it through your slick folds.

“Ready, baby?”

“Yes, please.”

As he enters, there's a slight pain. He's thicker than anything you've ever taken and the new stretch has you burning. He isn't even halfway inside before you start shaking and mewling in ecstasy.

Eddie's fingers have your hips in an iron grip. He looks out a long moan once he bottoms out. There is the sensation of being filled to your absolute max.

Your walls are contracting around him, trying To pull him in deeper.

“Fuck. That's it, baby, taking me so well. So proud of you.”

You keen into his praise. Hips bucking and back arching.

“Need more,” you plead and he obliges, rocking his hips into you, starting slow before going into an almost inhuman speed. pleasure is all that you feel, all that you know in this moment.

With every thrust, you saw Eddie lose just a little more self-control until he was feral, pounding into you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Feel so fucking good baby. Yeah, that's right, this pussy was made for me, wasn't it? God dammit.” He'd lost his filter, saying anything and everything that came to his mind.

You were loving it. No man had ever been so vocal with you before and it was such a turn-on to hear every grunt, moan, and whimper.

There's a flutter in your stomach that you know all too well. You're balancing on the edge and are so close to toppling over.

“Eddie. Eddie. Eddie!” You've run out of words, all you can manage to say is his name. It's like a prayer on your lips.

“I know, Sweetheart.” He tuts, voice out of breath. “Can feel you squeezing me. God, you’re so fucking tight.” His fingers grip your hips harder. “Need you to cum for my baby, can you do that?”

You nod frantically. “Yes, yes, yes,” you say as his thrusts continue, finally giving you that last little nudge you need to fall.

With eyes rolling back in your head and a ringing in your ears, you cum. Harder than you ever had before. You're so lost in the feeling that you can't hear yourself screaming rapture. Every feeling is intense like hitting a raw nerve but it's so enjoyable.

Eddie's thrusts slow to a stop before he reluctantly pulls from your warmth and tugs himself to completion. You can feel the warm ropes quickly cooling on your stomach and breasts when you finally come back to reality.

“God dammit.” Eddie rasps.

You can't help but laugh, “My thoughts exactly.”

Fixing your eyes on your stomach. You take a finger and collect Eddie's cum onto it. He watches you with wide eyes as you bring the finger to your mouth. It's not your favorite taste but you moan nonetheless.

“Thanks for the sweet treat, Mr. Munson.” Your face heats up over what you've said.

Eddie chuckles and shakes his head at you before giving you a fond look. Even though you were spread out on his kitchen counter covered in drying cum, you'd never felt more comfortable. You can see when Eddie hesitates ever-so-slightly before he asks, “Can I kiss you?”

It was sweet, you thought. You nod giving him the go-ahead.

He pulls you up by the hand you give him and his mouth is on you in a tender kiss. Much too tender for what you had both finished doing.

His hands massage into the sides of your face and neck and your own slide into his hair, tugging the fallen strands at the nape of his neck.

When he pulls away, you follow him hot wanting his lips to leave yours. He gives you a quick peck before stepping back.

You pout but he soothes you. “I'll be back. Gonna get a cloth to clean you up.”

It only takes him a moment to return to you, warm rag in hand. It feels nice to have all the sweat and other fluids wiped from your skin, it feels even nicer with Eddie the one doing it.

A yawn escapes you when he’s finally done and helps you off the counter.

“Tired?” He asks.

“Yea-” You were cut off by another big yawn, it brings involuntary tears to your eyes. Rubbing your eyes, you sigh, “I guess I better get home.” Bending down, you reach for your clothes that had made a home on the floor.

“Or,” Eddie stops you, “You could stay here.”

The statement was more of a question with his hopeful look and light tone.

You can’t help the blush that makes its way onto your cheeks. “I think I’d like that.”

“Good. Now leave those there, I have something more comfortable you can wear.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #stranger things fic #female reader #older eddie munson

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pit-and-the-pen · 3 days

Text

But I Have You...

Just a treat for all the angst I've been posting lately! Thank you @daycourtofficial for such a cute idea!

Summary: Date night with Azriel. What could go wrong? Apparently everything...

Warnings: Making out, mentions of food/cooking, allusions to smut, modern-ish AU

Wc: 3.3k

Date night with Azriel was one of your favorite days of the entire week. Calling it date “night” was an understatement. You and Azriel were normally both so busy with your duties that you tried to make a whole day out of it, or as close as it could be.

“Go bathe.” You pointed towards the door of the bathroom, brush still in your outstretched hand.

“Are you trying to tell me I stink?” He quirked an eyebrow at you, stalking closer to you. He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you against his chest.

“Yes. Now go. We’re going to be late for dinner.” You squeal when he begins to tickle your side, holding you against him as you try to squirm out of his hold.

“I yield. Please…Az” You manage to get out between your fit of laughter. He plants a wet kiss on your cheek before turning around and dramatically stomps to the bathroom, making a show of the small action. You laugh as he rolls his eyes as he closes the door, a large smile plastered to his face letting you know he wasn’t really mad or annoyed with you.

Taking the opportunity to finally get dressed, you all but run to the closet. Edgar to pull out the new dress that you had picked out with MOr last week. It was the exact color of his siphons. You greedily ran your hand over the velvet fabric, already loving the way it felt under your hands. The fabric being one of the very few that didn’t irritate Azriel’s hands over a prolonged time.

You quickly pull your lounge clothes over your head, kicking them off into some random corner of the room to deal with later. The bag holding the dress is discarded in a similar fashion after being torn open. It was just as beautiful as you remember it being and you can’t wait to get it on your body. Even more excited to see Azriel’s reaction.

.You are practically skipping over to your underwear drawer, picking out a small lacy set that you bought to go with the dress. It slides over your skin like butter, clinging to your body like a second skin. It stops about mid-thigh. Just short enough to be sexy but not too short that you were scared to bend over, which you would definitely be doing if for nothing more than giving the shadowsinger a peak of what exactly was waiting for him underneath the dress.

Pulling the straps over your shoulders, you only need to zip the dress up. YOu managed to tug it up halfway before the zipper got stuck on the seam at your waist. A couple more tugs and the stupid thing still won’t budge. You know you could just ask Azriel. He would never object to zipping you up but you knew there would be no way you would make it to your reservation if you did so. So you tugged once more, twice more, and then. Riiiipppp. Your jaw goes slack as the zipper finally tugs the rest of the way up, taking the other half of the zipper with it. The thin fabric stuck under the teeth and tore a large hole in the brand-new dress.

“Fuck!” You shout out once you survey the damage in the mirror. You would not have time to fix this before your reservations.

“Darling, what’s-” You hear your mate's voice filter into the room before he cuts himself off. You turn to face him and he’s gawking at you, towel slung low around his hips.

“It ripped. I just got this dress.” You whine. A chuckle leaves him and the sound has you pouting. “I just got this. It was going to be perfect for tonight.”

“You know that you could always…not wear anything.” His eyes are still trailing up and down your figure.

“Az! I’m serious.” You softly shout at him

“So am I.” He doesn’t hesitate to respond. You blush at his words. “Can we just skip dinner?”

“No sir. It took us months to get this reservation.”

“Rhys could get us in with a snap of his fingers.”

“But I want to go tonight. I already looked at the menu and picked out what I wanted.”

“Of course you did, lovely.” You stuck your tongue out at him, making him throw his head back in laughter. “Just go pick any of the other hundred dresses you have.” He teases and it’s your turn to stomp out of the room. Rolling your eyes at him, a smile so wide it makes your cheeks hurt. Your finger runs over dress after dress and none of them seem to be right. Already having your mind set on the perfect dress, it’s hard to find one to replace it. Your hands finally brush over one that you had forgotten about. A lighter shade than your previous dress, but it would do.

You pull it off the hanger with more force than necessary and peel the other one off, throwing it across the room with a huff. You pad over to Azriel when you have it pulled onto your shoulders, not willing to risk another zipper fiasco. You don’t even have to ask him before he takes the delicate zipper in his hands and pulls it up smoothly in one motion. He presses a kiss to the dip between your shoulder blades as he slides the zipper up into place. You notice his eyes dipping down in the mirror. You’re about to tease him for his wandering gaze when he clears his throat.

“I think there might be…I don’t even know what that is. Wine?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” YOu shout, turning around trying to see your backside in the mirror and sure enough. There is a random stain right at the small of your back. And then you remember. You wore this dress the last time you went to Rita’s with Mor and you had bumped into someone, someone that was holding a nearly full drink that splashed onto your back.

“Whatever. What-fucking-ever. We’re going to be late and this was the only dress I liked.” YOu take a deep breath through your nose. “Just stand behind me so no one sees it.” He nods before his eyes drift lower once again, this time pausing when you know he isn’t looking at the stain anymore.

“Twist my arm, why don’t you?” He grumbled to himself which has you spinning around to wrap your arms around his waist.

“What would I ever do without you, Azzy.”

“Walk around with a stain on your butt.”

“Prick. I was trying to be cute.” You feign insult. He only leans down and gives you a small peck on the lips.

“Let's go then.” He gives your ass a soft slap for emphasis. You scramble to grab your purse from the edge of the bed and catch up with him.

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

The walk to the restaurant wasn’t bad at all. It was only a few blocks away from the apartment the two of you shared. A pleasant walk with even sidewalks that made it easy for your heeled feet to walk.

The dull noise of the restaurant filled your ears the moment the door closed behind you. The decoration was very modern but still seemed very homey. Like it had been pulled directly from a cooking show set. Blue and white gingham tablecloths mixed with gold brushed metals. It was one of the newest, and if the wait you had for the reservation was any sign, most popular restaurants in the area. The hostess asks for your name and you give it to her. She scrolls through the tablet in front of her, eyebrows furrowing slightly. She turns to a large book by her side and flips to a page, finger scanning down the lines of names.

“Would it be under a different name?” She looks up and asks you.

“It could be under Azriel.” You were one hundred percent you had made the reservation under your name but found yourself giving his name either way. The line in her eyebrow deepens and your heart sinks as she turns back to you.

“It looks like we don;t have anything under that name. And we’re fully booked tonight so we aren’t talking walk-ins.”

“No, I called last month. I know I made a reservation. It wouldn’t be anywhere else?” You keep your voice low, not wanting to let your disappointment make you yell at the poor girl at the host stand.

“I’m sorry, it’s not in our system and like I said, we’re completely full tonight. Do you want me to make you a reservation for another night?” You shook your head. Too distraught to think about another night.

“It’s fine. Thank you.” Azriel said, noticing the way tears were starting to swim in your eyes. He took your hand lightly and pulled you out of the restaurant. He wrapped his arms around you and you buried your head into his chest.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s silly to be getting upset over this but I’m just really…I don’t even know.”

“You’re allowed to be disappointed baby. You’ve been talking all week about this.” He pulled your face up with one of his fingers. “How about we go to that pizza place you really like?” You perked up a little at the thought making Azriel smile at your mood change. “There she is.” He kissed your cheek. “Lets go.” He started walking you in the direction of the small pizza shop. As upset as you might be, you did love this spot. One of the few places that didn’t make their sauce too acidic or too sweet. Perfect crust to pizza ratio. It was always your fall back place and it was a great suggestion from your boyfriend.

You walked the few blocks to the shop and stood outside the door. One look at the sign made your heart sink all over again. Closed for repairs. Azriel gave your hand a squeeze.

“Azzzzzz.” You whined, fighting the urge to stomp your foot like a toddler.

“It’s okay baby. We can do something else.” He pulled you into his arms again, once again calming you down.

“Can we make pizza at home?”

“Of course we can.” He smiled down at you. Then you remembered.

“Shit. Elain used the rest of our flour for some cookies last week.”

“Then we’ll go to the store.”

“Az we can’t go to the store dressed like this.” You gestured to your dress and his crisp black dress shirt and matching pants.

“Why not?”

“Because we’ll look crazy.”

“Do you want pizza?”

“Yes.”

“Then we need to go to the store. Come on.” He started pulling you in the direction of a small corner store at the other end of the square.

You felt so silly, small shopping basket in hand, you in your tight dress and heels and Azriel in his dress clothes. But luckily, no one paid you any attention. Too focused on their own shopping to even notice you. Picking up the bag of flour, you also grabbed some cheese, and some fresh basil to put on top. Azriel led you over to the check out but not before grabbing a bottle of wine as you passed by the section. The cashier rang you out quickly and smiled at the two of you as you walked out of the store. Not once commenting or even raising an eyebrow at your attire, much to your pleasure.

Your feet were screaming at you by the time you got to the door of your apartment. Not expecting to walk as much as you did. Azriel, seeing the discomfort in your face, leaned down to undo the straps off your heels. He gave a small tap to your ankle to let you know that you could step out of them before he repeated the motion to your other foot. A sigh left your lips as your feet touched the ground, screaming in relief. Azriel gave you a small kiss on your knee before standing back up.

“Thank you.” You told him as he grabbed the bag from your arms and walked into the kitchen.

“I should change if we’re going to be making dough.” You said as you followed him into the kitchen. He wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Or you could keep it on and let me peel you out of it later?” He suggested, furthering his words by kissing along your jaw. You fought the urge to melt against his hold.

“You’ve convinced me. I’ll keep it on.”

“Good girl.” He spoke before giving your ass a light slap as he released you. You heated up from head to toe at his words. You shook your head as he started to unpack the groceries, trying to clear your head of the less than innocent thoughts rushing through you. So you started to pull out the other necessary ingredients and placed them on the counter next to Azriel. He opened the flour and started to pour it into the bowl you pulled out from the cabinet. He gives you a quick kiss on the forehead as he takes the olive oil from your hands and starts working on the dough. It was soe recipe he knew that made quick, non-proofing, dough. Something he learned from Rhys’ mother he had told you one time. In no time the dough was made and he started rolling it out. You peeked over his shoulder and had to bite back a laugh when you saw the speckling of flour on his cheek. He looked over at you with a raised eyebrow.

“You’ve got something…” You reached out your hand to swipe the streak away. “Right there.” You giggled at his annoyed expression.

“You mean right,” He dipped his hand into some of the flour that had spilled onto the counter and flicked it towards your hair. “There?” You squealed as you realized what he was doing, moving just too late to avoid the flour from getting into your hair.

“Az!” You said in between your laughing. “You got my hair dirty.” You gave him a dramatic pout, looking up at him which in turn made him start laughing.

“Oh no, guess I’ll just have to wash it out later.” He nudged you with his shoulder which only made you roll your eyes, a smile plastered onto your face.

“I guess….”

“What do you want on your pizza?” He quickly changed the topic.

“Just cheese please.” You smiled up at him and he nodded. He quickly spread some of the jarred sauce on with the back of a spoon and sprinkled on a handful, or three, of the shredded cheese you bought at the store. You smiled at the heap of cheese on your pizza, just the way you liked it. None of the sauce was visible under the coating and he smiled at you as you helped him slide in onto the pan. He quickly did the same to his own, adding a few slices of the tomato and a handful of basil on top.

With the pizza’s in the oven it would only be a few minutes until they were ready, just enough to let the cheese melt.

Azriel leaned against the counter, already holding two wine glasses in his hand. YOu walked over and grabbed them from his hand, placing a quick kiss to his lips and putting them down on the counter. He leaned down and grabbed your face between his hands, pulling your lips back to his. You let yourself sink into the kiss. The first real kiss you two shared all night. His teeth scraped against your bottom lip and you whined against him. He chuckled deeply, the sound reverberating through you and heating your blood instantly. You whined again and you felt Azriel backing you up into the counter across the kitchen. His hands snaked down to your waist and tapped, silently asking you to jump onto the countertop. You obliged and he helped hoist you up so your lips didn't leave his. Your hands snaked into his dark locks, pulling his face even closer to yours. His hands started wandering down your hips, grabbing at the fat of your hips, pulling you somehow closer to him. Your mouth parted in a moan at the tight grip and you used that as an opportunity to slide his tongue against yours. You bit down lightly, pulling away from the kiss. Both of your were panting but he just trailed kisses down your neck, down to the neckline of your dress. He had just snuck a hand up to pull down the fabric when you noticed a burning smell in the air. Shit. You pushed him away, already hoping off the counter. He looked at you, confused at your sudden shift. Then his eyes widened as he remembered the pizza you had both seemingly forgotten about. You quickly grabbed one of the over mitts sitting on the counter and pulled the pizza’s out. If you could even call the nearly black circles on the pan you were pathetically holding out in front of you.

You really couldn’t find it in yourself to be disappointed. Not when you could still feel Azriel’s lips ghosting along your skin. You pushed the contents of the pan into the garbage can and looked up at Azriel. Both of you immediately bursted out laughing. He walked over to you and pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“I’m sorry baby.”

“I’m not.” You winked at him.

“Well what are we going to do for dinner now.”

“There's ice cream in the freezer?” You shrugged. Suddenly not in the mood for cooking at all. You bit your lip as you looked at him and he laughed in response.

“Okay. Ice cream for dinner it is.”

So the two of you, still in your clothes from the failed dinner reservations, curled up on the couch. Each holding a pint of ice cream and the now full wine glasses on the table in front of you. Azriel had thrown a blanket over the two of you and put on some cheesy movie that neither of you were paying attention to.

“I’m sorry tonight was such a disaster” You said to him, mouth still half full of ice cream. He shook his head, leaning his face closer to yours until your foreheads were touching.

“I got to be with you, what more can I ask for?”

The two of you nearly finished the bottle of wine, Azriel had already placed the nearly empty ice cream containers back into the freezer. When he returned to the couch he pulled you against his chest, hand swirling random patterns onto your back. You felt your eyes getting very heavy as you tried your best to focus on the movie in front of you but the wine was lulling you to sleep. It felt like your eyes had closed for only a second before Azriel was shaking you awake.

“Hi sleepyhead.” He mumbled into your hair.

“I was not asleep for that long.”

“Long enough to drool on me.” You quickly shot up, hand going to wipe away any wetness that might have split from your mouth. Your hand was dry. You stuck your tongue out at him as he gave you a wicked smile. He pulled you back down to his chest, twisting you so you were now straddling him.

“I think I can find a perfect way to wake you darling.” And that was all you needed to hear before you pressed your lips against his. Very much awake.

#acotar #acosf #acomaf #acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #acowar #azriel acotar #a court of thorns and roses #azriel x you #azriel fluff

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xrux · 2 days

Text

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞 ⋮ 𝐦𝐢𝐲𝐚 𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐮

bridesmaid series ∘ haikyuu mlist ∘ general mlist

In which you, a bridesmaid, come across a groomsman who cannot wait to get away from all the drunk and lovesick fools at the wedding reception, much like yourself ⋮ Alternatively, in which you get to know each other while he’s balls deep into you

pairing. miya atsumu x reader

warnings. no reader pronouns, f anatomy! reader, hookups, just a bunch of horny strangers, semi-public touching and grinding a.k.a. inappropriate pda, pet names (darling, sweets, he also keeps calling you cute & pretty), wedgie, masturbation, cockwarming, overstimulation, creampie, pillow talk, pregnancy joke, breast/nipple play

word count. 3.5k

an. this was the first smut I ever wrote (like 4 years back). this is also rewritten & reposted <3

꒰ 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐝𝐧𝐢 — 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 ꒱

Your bridesmaid flower crown is long-forgone, swept along the late afternoon tide. The midnight blue scarf wrapped loosely around your neck is about the only thing keeping you warm and. Your borderline-sheer bridesmaid dress would’ve definitely suited the beachy occasion if it weren’t for the fact that temperatures this time of the year are starting to drop.

Still, you pay no mind to the cold when the salty breeze beckons you to dip your toes in the sea, leaving your woes behind in a quick attempt to remove yourself from the reception. Always the bridesmaid, never the bride. And to think you’re the only one in your friend group who didn’t come with a +1. No wonder you came to the sea for some company when everyone else has just about taken the dancefloor, dancing not alone to some mood music.

You run your fingers through your hair, pulling it back in a lazy attempt at keeping it in place while you indulge in the ocean breeze. The cold wind kisses your now exposed back, hairs on your nape prickling as you close your eyes and tilt your chin up, baring your neck to the chilly sensation on your skin.

Snapping you out of your daze is the wind snagging the scarf off your neck — the garment didn’t go far but tides have started to be unforgiving at this hour.

It takes you a few good seconds to decide if it’s worth the risk of getting your dress wet, let alone accidentally drowning with no one aware of your whereabouts. Only, anyone who could save you is either drunk or lovesick.

Screw it. You reach for the hems of your dress, holding them up to your knees, about ready to brave the 2-feet-high seawater.

And as if the sea gods had just answered your plea, you freeze in place when you hear a snicker coming from behind you, the apparent source of it walking past you, beating you to your scarf.

It’s one of the groomsmen from your now friend-in-law’s side of the family. Dirty blonde with a clean black undercut, white dress shirt that’s four, five buttons undone, exposing his toned chest.

You wonder how long he was able to make a spectacle of you before rushing to your aid when you realize he’s already barefoot and had more than enough time to take off his shoes and socks. Funny, he didn’t even bother to fold his beige pants before charging on. He shoots you a smirk before picking up your scarf, gently wringing the saltwater out. His shins splash against the tides as he makes his way over to you, looking far too amused for someone whose getup had been needlessly soiled by the ocean.

“You didn’t have to, but thank you, uhm—”

“Atsumu?” He says it like it’s a sarcastic reminder, as if his name is something you’re already supposed to know. “Seemed like an important scarf, and uh — you can thank me tomorrow over dinner.”

You thank the sea gods for answering your prayers even though it almost took a human sacrifice (you) in order for them to grant you company — and someone so easy on the eyes too.

“I feel like I’ve seen this already,” half-impressed, half-suspicious, you say as you take your scarf back.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, in Hercules or the ones you see in clichés. You know… the whole damsel in distress trope? Then the hero conveniently hears her distress call, comes to her rescue, and they both get wet for it.”

“Darling, you barely even dipped in the water. I didn’t get you wet, did I?”

Your lips purse in amusement, causing you to bite the inside of your cheek as you chuckle. “Just a little. But don’t worry, you don’t have to commit.”

“But what if I want to?”

“Then I guess we could look into it after dinner tomorrow. I’m ___. Nice to meet you, Atsumu.”

“Scarf and a date. Must be your lucky day. Pick you up at 8?”

“Sure, but promise me you’ll change into something dry.”

That earns you yet another snicker from him. “I will if you will.”

Your planning is interrupted by the sound of roaring cheers and clinking bottles apparently for someone who had just passed out. It’s ridiculous since it’s only been barely a few hours into the afterparty.

“Whad’ya know. And it’s only 6 o’clock,” you huff out knowing you have to sit through more of these tonight, already mentally exhausted at the thought.

“To think there’s going to be 5 more hours of this or so.”

As if the gods hadn’t blessed you enough today, you find your would-be date as engrossed at the scenery as you. It turns out, he’s as impressed with you as you are with him. His face instantly switches from a scowl to an inquisitive one with a cocked brow. You swear you hear his thoughts as clear as day asking you ‘you thinking what I’m thinking?’.

In case the message didn’t come across, he holds a hand out, asking you again, “Wanna get outta here?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

…

Like some horny teenagers who had just gotten off prom, you find yourselves hand-in-hand running through endless corridors, leaving trails of giggles and sand past concerned staff and other guests on your way to your hotel room.

You try your hardest to brush off your pseudo-savior's eagerness while still in public. But with the way he keeps kissing the back of your hand and persists on planting kisses atop your shoulder every time anything blocks your way, you can’t help the lewd sounds that escape your lips.

The knowing looks that come your way don’t help either, not when Atsumu is just keen on trying you in every torturous way possible as some form of pre-foreplay.

Atsumu is ruthless even as you enter the elevator that had a family and a few other guests on board. He leads you to the back in his half-hearted attempt to be discreet.

Still a couple floors away, he passes the time by snaking both hands around your waist, pressing you up against his chest. As if timed right at the ding of the elevator, you feel two fingers pinch your ass, making your breath hitch a tiny squeak, forcing you to cover your mouth, and it takes everything in you not to take him on then and there.

“Atsumu, stop,” quietly, you plead, chuckling between syllables.

Ding, the elevator goes again, and for revenge, you grind your ass against his crotch.

“Mm,” he hums, chuckling low and breathy at the sudden wave of pleasure forcing him to dig his fingers into your waist.

“There are children in here,” one snarky lady comments as she tries to cover her children’s ears.

“Don’t worry. When they grow up, they’ll understand—”

“Atsumu!” You cover your mouth instantly in a futile attempt to stifle your laughter, earning daggers of stares from everyone else on the elevator.

The elevator dings one more time as the screen flashes your floor number, signalling your stop.

“Sorry!” You yell out when the doors are about to close with Atsumu dragging you to your feet, looking back to the unforgiving looks from the people left at the elevator.

…

“What’s taking so long, ___?” Atsumu whines.

“Shut up, I’m looking okay?”

You scramble through your tiny purse, cursing and wondering why your keys are never where you need them to be.

“Take any longer and I wouldn’t think twice to have you right here.”

“You’re not helping— found it!”

Atsumu stands right behind you as you fiddle with your keys. You can feel his impatience growing and pressing against you as he parts your hair to one side, leaving a trail of sloppy kisses on your jaw, down to the crook of your neck.

You suppose it’s the excitement in the air, where love and love-making are to be expected — the culprit behind why Atsumu just couldn’t wait to kiss you until you’re at least inside your room, where you’re hidden from the security cameras. It’s that or the party really must’ve sucked. In the heat of the moment, you kiss him back, hands roaming every which way, from his silky locks down to his biceps that feel so taut underneath your palms. You wonder if you’re probably putting on a good show for the people behind the cameras.

You enter your room after what felt like hours. Atsumu grabs your hand, interlocking with your fingers as he leads you to your bed. Mouths still latched onto each other’s, the need to be rid of clothes becomes urgent to say the least.

Shoes kicked off, and scarf discarded, he sits on the edge and you straddle him as you unbutton his shirt. The second you pull out, calloused fingers snake around the back of your head, and without an ounce of care, Atsumu pulls you back in, crashing his mouth onto yours.

“Sweets, you taste like heaven,” he says, moving on to trail your neck with kisses.

He runs his hands over your thighs, giving them a tight squeeze before he attempts to undress you. He attempts to tug at the zipper of your dress but it doesn’t budge.

”You’re hopeless,” you tease, playfully punching his chest. “Let me help you”

“I’d offer to rip it off but really, I just wanted to watch you strip.” He props his hands behind him, smirking as he chews on the inside of his bottom lip, eyes glistening with anticipation as he watches you get out of your dress. You take off both straps, letting your dress fall to the ground.

“Hh-ooly fuck,” he whistles, chest emptying out the chunk of breath he held back, pupils blown out as he takes the sight of your exposed top. His eyes are dead glued to your figure. With labored breaths, he slowly cups his aching bulge a few times before swiftly unbuckling his belt with one hand, head of his cock creating a dent on his boxers when he unbuttons his pants.

“My turn,” he coos, throwing his pants and shirt aside, revealing a rock hard build that could only belong to a sculpture of a Greek god. His breaths grow heavier the second he takes his cock out of his boxers, you gulp at the size of his girth alone, never mind the length you’re sure you’re not going to be able to take. His chuckles are low and carnal, ones that can’t wait to devour you.

He knows that look on your face. It’s one he’s so used to seeing upon showing his former lovers and fuck buddies his full and hard cock for the first time. The hollow of his palm gathers the slick from the tip. “Fuck, ____. The things I can’t wait to do to you.” He grunts while his fingers play with his foreskin, afterwards smearing pre-cum across his hard length.

With one hand slowly pumping his cock, he reaches for you with his free hand, drawing you back to him with your knees on either side of him, his free hand caressing your sides.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he utters and you feel his soft hair brush over your collarbone as he plants a kiss on your breast. He moves his mouth south of your nipple, tongue flicking the bud before capturing it in his mouth. He releases with a pop, alternating between licking and sucking on your supple flesh.

”Atsumu,” you mutter his name, fingers brushing through his silky locks while he’s in your embrace, clothed cunt lightly rubbing on the tip of his cock, “please,” you murmur.

”Hm? Can’t hear you,” he hums, teeth sinking into your tit as his tongue plays with your nipple, not having had his fill with them yet. He knows full well what you need with his fingers tracing along the hems of your underwear.

“F-fuck!” you cry from the sudden burning sensation on your ass down to your cunt, holding onto him for dear life as you try to grind against the much-needed friction, and you realize he’d pulled a fistful of your underwear from behind you.

“God, you’re so pretty. Even the sounds you make are so pretty.” He tightens his grip on your panties, running his free fingers between your spilled labias.

“You weren’t lyin’ about getting wet after all, were you, sweets?”

“S-stop teasing, Atsumu—fuck!” He parts your underwear and runs a finger through your slippery folds. “Mmf,” you mewl when he pinches your clit, teasing your sensitive bud, your body practically melting into his touch, nails digging into his shoulders.

“I’m just stating the obvious, ___. You’re so wet, it’s so cute. So eager. So fucking ready for me.”

“You fucking idi—ahh!” Atsumu relentlessly pumps his middle and ring finger into your wet hole, his thumb drawing fast slimy circles onto your clit, making you collapse onto him as he fucks you with his fingers.

“You want my cock? Say it. Say you want my cock. Beg for it sweets. I want to hear you say it. C’mon, say it.”

“P-please… your cock… Atsummff— hha!!” You whimper, head bowed, forehead leaning on his shoulder. You’re losing rhyme and reason as you mount his hand, hips bucking onto his touch riding your first orgasm, all while Atsumu peppers your shoulder blade with kisses.

“You’re so fucking cute, wanna hear you cummin’ all night long.”

Before you could shoot back a response, his mouth is on yours again, kissing you fervently with his tongue battling against yours. You moan into his mouth as he rubs now-menacingly slow circles on your sensitive bud, letting out a whimper when he slides two digits again inside you, exploring your velvet walls.

“Please, please, please, ‘Tsumu,” pressing your forehead against his, you purr, making Atsumu curl his fingers inside you.

He lets out a soft breathy chuckle. You could tell he’s pleased with himself, toying at you who has already come undone with just his fingers.

He hooks his hands under your thighs, fingers digging in your skin as he lifts you, gently laying you down on your bed.

His brown eyes are fixed on yours while he removes your underwear, making your breath hitch at your full exposure. His head tilts, looking at your puffy cunt with such hunger in his gaze. He lines himself at your entrance, the tip of his cock accidentally rubbing against your clit, and he doesn’t miss the way your mouth instantly formed an ‘o’.

And for the last time, “Atsumu, please. I need you,” you beg.

“So fucking pretty.” He shoots you a smirk before wrapping your legs around his waist, fully thrusting all of his length inside you, not giving you time to adjust at all. Luckily, your own juices help with the stretch as he pounds into you on all fours.

”Ah—god, Atsumu!” your eyebrows furrow as you cry out in pleasure. To stifle your moans, you bite onto your thumb, but that seems to do something to Atsumu, his gaze and pace both turning into something more animalistic.

”Fuck, keep doin’ that and I’ll be done in a matter of seconds,” his clicks his tongue and you feel him twitch inside you.

Wanting this to last as long as possible, you obey him, clutching onto the sheets instead. But at the rate he’s going, you can’t help but arch into him as you feel yourself nearing your climax once more.

“So glad we left the party,” you mumble to which Atsumu laughs. “Fuck yeah.”

Your breaths are getting shorter and you start to feel tears pricking your eyes. ”I’m almost- almost there- a-almost-“ Your eyes close shut, head craning back subconsciously as you await your orgasm.

”No, no. Fuck. Look at me, I wanna see your pretty face,” he demands as he continues to pound into you. You follow his command despite your self-consciousness over your unravelling expression, but a bolt of heat shoots down your stomach so hot, it stifles any complaint that could come from your mouth.

”Perfect,” he says as he clasps his calloused hands on yours, forcing you to let go of the sheets.

His strides have gone uneven at this point and you wrap your legs tighter around him, waiting to hit your peak for the nth time. Open mouthed and breath hitching, you force yourself to look at him while your insides clenches around his throbbing cock. You’re trembling in your high as he slams one more time into you — grunting in his own release before plopping on top of you.

“Damn,” you breathe out.

Clearing your throat, you lightly urge him to shuffle from his position.

“Damn,” he says back, leaving you a chaste kiss on your cheek, and for some reason, that makes your heart skip a beat in a different way compared to the intimate exchange you just had.

It doesn't miss you that he’s still in you, hard. He lays on his side after he exits you, and you bring your leg around so that he’s spooning you. You jolt back when you feel him sliding his cock back in from behind you, but the stretch is one you welcome, too tired to even complain about all the cum he’s squeezing out of you.

”You’re not gonna look me up three months later asking for support aren't ya?” he pants.

”You seriously only thought to ask that only now?”

He laughs sheepishly and you add, ”Don’t worry, we’re good.”

“How’d you end up going to the ceremony anyway? Big occasions don't seem like your type.”

“You — you’re not just trying to make small talk, are you?” you tease as Atsumu fiddles with your breast. Even during pillowtalk, he’s quite on brand as the tits kind of guy.

“Darling, it’s called ‘getting to know you’,” he retorts, squeezing your tit.

“I just like the beach,” you say plainly, slightly taken aback by the sudden interrogation. “And how are you related to the groom?”

“We’re cousins. But he’s closer to my twin than me.”

Looking over your shoulder, “you’re a twin?!”

Your insides suddenly twitch at your discovery, making him jolt forward “Careful there!” he grunts, warning you as he wraps an arm around your waist.

“Same undercut, dark hair. That’s right, I saw him too. How did I not see you were twins?!”

You feel the grumble of his chest while he chuckles, feeling hints of exhaustion in his laughter while he’s pressed up against your back. He kisses your shoulder, feeling his weight on you as he leans into you even more. “You musta’ just been looking at the right sort,” he replies cheekily, hand latched onto your breast again.

“By ‘right’, you mean you?”

“Yeah? You seemed to think so when you were screaming my name two minutes ago.”

”I’m just saying. I wouldn't know if you're the better twin. Just ‘cause—”

“What’s that?” He brings a hand over to your clit, viciously rubbing your sensitive bud, making your hips shake. He’s banking on your overstimulation from your multiple orgasms, obviously unwilling to let you finish whatever it is you were gonna say.

“What is it?”

“Nothingfff— I—”

“I what?”

“Feel so good, d-don’t stop—fuck!”

He lifts you by your waist so that you’re on all fours, fingers still stroking your clit. It doesn't take much until he’s thrusting into you again. This time, you grab hold of the headboard as he moves one hand to cup your breast and another on your back, keeping you just where he wants you.

The ram of his hips against your as is a mix of sticky and slippery, sticky where his cum began to dry out seconds ago. He pounds into you harder this time, apparently unhappy with your supposed comparison.

“‘Tsumuuuu,” you purr. If a while ago you were merely oriented with the stretch of his cock, now it’s something so familiar you’re sure no other cock can quite fit like a glove compared to his. And you suddenly remember that you had practically just met this person and yet he’s already balls deep into you for the second time today.

The sound of his rock hard thighs ramming onto your ass sends your insides coiling. Still slightly sticky from the cum that hasn’t fully dried out, your clit sticks onto the base of his cock before he fully exits and pounds into you again. Cunt gummy, slimy, and stuffed all at once, a bolt of heat from your stomach shoots down to your center making you scream in pleasure.

He squeezes your tit one last time before bringing his hand to rub circles on your clit. Once more, you arch your back, whimpering as you get off from your high. Pretty soon, he’s coming off from his own high, stuffing you full of his hot and thick seed.

“Just so ya know, I forgive you. Clearly, you weren't thinkin’ straight a while ago,” he says and you could almost hear the smirk in his face by how he said it. He plops back down on the bed, pulling you close to his sweaty, panting body.

“You are so full of it,” you sneer.

He pulls you in tighter before asking, “so, 8 PM tomorrow?”

“Deal.”

#haikyuu x reader #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu smut #atsumu miya #[ ! ] bridesmaid series #[ ! ] something blue #!atsumu #!love letters #꩜— interstellar communications

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sunshineandspencer · 3 days

Text

A kind of look

A/N: Trying to act normal while my brain is in the realm of Spencer-Ville is impossible. The spirits possessed me, have a oneshot.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader.

Summary: Apparently Spencer has been looking at her a little different recently.

Word Count: 898

Warnings: nothing really just fluff

“He’s looking at you.”

“What, Spence? Yeah, I know.”

“No. I mean he’s looking at you.”

They’d been saying this recently, Emily and Morgan. Making little comments that didn’t quite make sense, and trying to convince her of something that obviously isn’t real.

Somehow, drunkenly, she’d told Penelope about her crush on Spencer. Which resulted in her telling Derek, and him telling Emily, until it became one big family affair to try and get them together.

Even Kevin, who she barely even knew in the first place, made a passing comment about how cute they are together.

It’s aggravating, she wants to throttle them, but obviously that’s not allowed.

Most recently, Emily has been trying to convince her that Spencer looks at her differently. Which sounds completely insane.

Spencer Reid looks at her the same way he always has, politely and just a little to the right of her eyes. It’s adorable and endearing, making her want to smother him with affection until he drowns in it. But unfortunately he just doesn’t feel the same.

No matter what Emily tries to tell her.

Granted, she has felt his eyes on her for quite a while now, but that’s pretty normal.

He zones out staring at people sometimes, has freaked out a lot of LEOs that way. So she doesn’t take it personal when he zones out in her direction, getting lost in his own beautifully massive brain.

It’s completely normal, and when she turns around to indulge Emily’s insanity, she’ll see it.

When their eyes met, she was immediately made aware of the fact that it was, in fact, very different. To the point where she’s pretty sure she’s forgotten how to breathe.

His eyes almost seemed to be blurred at the edges, gazing at her so gently that she felt like she would break if he looked away from her.

So this is what they meant, Christ, it’s suffocating. But in a way that makes her want to go and ask him to help her breathe.

And when Spencer finally realises that he’s staring into her eyes rather than admiring her from afar, he stiffens. Eyes darting away to focus across at his computer monitor, scrambling for something to hold onto and sending his pencil hold flying.

Only drawing more attention to himself as he dove to the floor, searching for pencils and a way out.

Just as he thought the worst was over, hunched on his hands and knees under his desk, holding his hands to his burning face, he felt someone poke his shoulder.

Hands falling away, hoping it was just Morgan come to tease him. And then nearly choking at her being crouched down with him. Tripping over her name as he forced it out.

“Wha- what are you doing down here?”

Smiling softly, she held up a handful of pencils that she’d collected from around the room. The blush on both their faces being an equal match.

“Helping? Sorry if I freaked you out just then.”

“No!” He lurched for her and found her shoulders, clinging tightly as she met his gaze. “You could never freak me out! I just.. wasn’t expecting you to look back at me.. that’s all.”

Oh yeah, she’s completely smitten by this man. Gently easing his hands from her shoulders so that his imbalance on his knees doesn’t take them both out. He’s called the human bambi for a reason, and it’s not just because he’s cute.

Tilting her head gently, she shuffled a little closer until they were both under the desk. All conversation is suddenly being muffled around them, they’re in their own little bubble where nothing else matters. That bright smile of hers pulling at her lips in a way that makes his knees weak.

Not ideal when they’re the thing he’s currently supporting himself with.

“And.. why were you looking at me, Spence?”

“Because you’re beautiful.”

He didn’t even need to think about it, which is what made her utterly melt. If it weren’t the middle of the day, and she couldn’t already feel Emily’s judging eyes on her ass, she would’ve dragged him down to stay under his desk forever.

Instead, she leant in and pecked his cheek, grinning when she pulled back and he was looking at her again.

Jesus, she’s never felt more beautiful than when he’s looking at her. Hopefully she’s playing off her nerves well, because she feels like she’s going to implode.

“Takes one to know one gorgeous. Get back to work.. you can ask me out later.”

She got up first, crawling out from under the desk and practically skipping back to Emily. Whereas Spencer was stuck for a long time, hand to his cheek and daft smile on his face.

Until Morgan said his name and he moved before he could think. Smacking his head onto the table in his rush to clamber back to being vertical.

The rush of standing up so fast and having his cheek kissed sending him a little dizzy.

“Y-Yeah?”

“We’ve got a case, let’s get to the jet so you can make your ‘love me’ eyes at your girl.”

Spluttering something that didn’t even manage to come out as words, he just had to follow along. Wondering just how long it would have to be to class the time as later, already knowing exactly where he’s going to take her.

Want more?! Good!

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid one shot

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dottydoesstuff · 2 days

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You make me feel alive (steve harrington x fem!reader)

Based on the song Rio by Duran Duran

can be read as a part one to this fic or on its own

Idiots in love, mutual pining, light angst, background Jancy, reader is described to wear a bikini.

ps. a game & watch is like the 80s version of a nintendo DS

3.4k words <3

Steve didn't know when his all consuming infatuation with you began. Maybe it had alway been there, the throat tightening, cheek blushing , knee wobbling, soul crushing feeling that only your presence seemed to elicit. But it was getting rather annoying.

Don't get him wrong we wouldn't trade his friendship with you for the world but constantly having to hold himself back from confessing his undying love for you or some other irreversible truth that would surely ruin your friendship was exhausting.

The sun had been beating down on Hawkins unrelentingly for weeks, pushing the small town and its residents to the brink of melting and so to avoid such a fate, plans had been made amongst your group to drive up to lake Michigan.

Steve of course was unwillingly nominated to drive as well as Nancy so the group was split between his BWM and Nancy's moms borrowed station wagon. A fight had ensued that morning when the group was choosing who to ride with with each option having its pros and cons. Steve's car had the better air-con which was a necessary luxury in the Indiana summer but Nancy lets other people pick the music unlike Steve who cites that he's driving so he gets to choose the radio station. Eventually (and after much debate) you, Robin, Eddie and Dustin rode with Steve and everyone else crammed into Nancy's car.

The drive was only a few hours and the group had set off early to beat the traffic, or had attempted to, but apparently some people (Eddie) needed their beauty sleep. Despite the air-con remaining on full blast, the heat couldn't be ousted causing the road up ahead to become a mirage. However the heat wasn't on the forefront of Steve's mind, instead his focus was pulled toward the hushed conversation taking place between you and Eddie in the backseat. He couldn't make out what either of you were saying but he could hear your quiet giggles and see that due to the lack of space, thanks to Dustin calling shotgun, Eddie and you were sitting very close together. Eddie, ever the gentleman, had taken the middle seat with you and Robin on either side. Robin had zonked out within the first 20 minutes and had monopolised all of her and most of Eddie's seats meaning Eddie was currently crowding your space, not that you seemed to mind, which infuriated steve to no end, not that he could say anything about it because steve wasn't your boyfriend so had no right to comment on the situation however this realisation only infuriated him further.

Thankfully Dustin hadn't noticed Steve's indignation despite him practically having steam shooting from his ears, although Steve could’ve grown a second head and Dustin wouldn't have noticed as he was too busy playing mario bros on his game & watch, which he was surprisingly bad at.

“Son of a bitch”

Steve turned to see Dustin shoving his game & watch back into his backpack after losing yet again.

“It's probably rigged anyway plus my jump buttons jammed so it’s not even my fault” Dustin sighed in defeat as he slumped back into the seat with his arms crossed.

“Maybe you're just shit” Eddie teased whilst shoving another handful of Doritos into his mouth.

Dustin turned his head to glare at Eddie as you slapped him on the arm.“And since when were you so good a mario munson?” you asked whilst poking him in the chest.

Eddie grabbed your finger as he retorted “since birth, obviously”.

Dustin rolled his eyes “Mario wasn't around in the prehistoric age dickhead”.

Yet another argument ensued.

The snarky comments and constant touching between you and Eddie bothered Steve then it occurred to him, was Eddie flirting with you? The question bounced around in Steve's head until a much worse realisation overtook it. Were you flirting with Eddie ??? His knuckles turned white with how hard he gripped the steering wheel as jealousy washed over him, he knew he shouldn't have been jealous, you and Eddie were both single and neither of you knew that Steve was hopelessly in love with you … or something less intense to that effect.

“-and if you think that i'm going to let you even touch my game & watch with your nasty ass Dorito fingers, you're insane”

“Ugh say it don't spray it” Eddie mumbled as he wiped his cheek with his sleeve.

Steve was still trying to figure out a way to murder Eddie and make it look like an accident when you leaned forward to ask how much longer the trip was. Your gentle smile as you made eye contact with him through the mirror made him forget you even asked him a question until you said “stevie ?”.

He felt his face heat up at the use of the nickname that he claimed he hated. Because he did hate it, when it was used by anyone other than you.

“Uhh probably like another half hour”

You nodded absentmindedly as you settled back into your seat and pulled a book from your bag.

The half hour passed fairly quickly with the only hiccup being when Eddie and Dustin started arguing yet again because Dustin wouldn't share his nerds which resulted in Eddie trying to snatch the whole pack and spilled them everywhere.

As they approached Porter beach the busier it became, Steve started to wonder if they would ever find somewhere to park. Eventually they found a spot next to a parking meter which wasn't too far from the beach, Steve got out to pay only to realise he had no change. “Oh shit” Steve mumbled while patting his shorts pockets.

“What?” you tilted your head at him as you asked. You were still sitting in the car with the door open rubbing suncream on your legs. Steve had to consciously hold himself back from asking if you wanted him to do it for you, partly because he liked helping you and partly for more selfish reasons. Instead he shook his head as if to physically expel the thought from his mind.

“Do you have any change?” he asked sheepishly.

“Uhh, oh you know I think I do” you wiped any excess suncream on your top and grabbed your bag to start searching through it.

“How much do you need?” you looked up at him with a smile when you said it. It was subconscious, the way you always smile at Steve when you talk to him, he brings it out in you.

Steve looks down to check the price on the meter “A buck twenty-five”

“Aha, here you go” you pull the dollar bill and coins out of your purse and hand it to steve.

Your fingers brushing up against his made you both dizzy. Instead of either of you acknowledging the feeling Steve turned away to put the money in the meter and you finish putting on your suncream and decide it would definitely be safer to ask Robin to do your back because having Steve rub his hands all over your back could be something you never recover from.

As Steve looked around it became apparent that every family in Indiana had had the same idea to visit the lake, hell it looked like every family in the goddamn midwest was currently lying out on their beach towels taking advantage of the sunshine.

“Looks like we have some competition” Eddie said as he sauntered up beside Steve and slung his arm around his shoulders.

Steve looked at Eddie alarmed, not having realised the boy was talking about space on the beach for them to sit and not competition for your attention. Steve wasn't sure why his mind had jumped straight to you, but it was becoming a common occurrence.

He saw Nancy and the rest of the group walking toward them as him and Eddie finished pulling all the bags out the trunk. Steve set yours, Robins and his stuff aside from him to carry and called the other two over to get their stuff.

“Jesus we have a lot of shit” Eddie murmured to nobody in particular.

You and Robin were crouched down trying to get all the nerds out of Steve's car as Robin lectured Dustin about having food fights in an enclosed space. You noticed that Steve had slung your bag over his shoulder and so you walked up beside him to knock against his arm as a thank you, the two of you were good at that, communicating without words. Steve always knew what you were thinking, well most of the time he did, you hoped against hope that he had not clued in on your very obvious, very embarrassing crush on him.

“Okay, are we all ready ?” Nancy asked as she effortlessly took on the leader role which she claimed to hate doing but refused to relinquish as no one else met her standards. Steve would argue he could do it as he led a group of preteens through the demodog tunnels with no fatalities but she'd probably argue that letting them go into the tunnels in the first place was incredibly idiotic.

It took them a good twenty minutes to find a patch of sand that wasn't covered by sun burnt middle aged women or children digging holes.

You and robin walked arm in arm mostly to stop robin falling due to her perpetual clumsiness. Steve, Eddie and Jonathan were given the heavy stuff, normally you would argue how it was inherently sexist to give the men the heavy things but it was hot out and carrying like a bajillion bags would only make it worse so you decide to cut your losses. The teens all walk in a group behind you, all complaining about the long walk and the sand and how they want to go swimming now and how their bags are heavy. Nancy looks fed up with them already and you can't blame her.

Finally you spot somewhere to set up.

“How about over there?” you asked as you pointed at a relatively shady but most importantly empty space on the beach.

“Oh thank god. I think my arms are about to drop off” Eddie said as he made his way over carrying the cooler with him.

You paid no attention to Eddie's dramatics as you were admiring a now shirtless Steve. The scattering of moles on his back paired with how his muscles were flexed due to him carrying about 5 peoples bags was mouthwatering. You would have stood there ogling all day had Jonathan not nudged you whilst giving you a knowing smirk. You gave him a shy smile and vowed to blame the heat if anyone asked why your face had gone red whilst running to catch up with the group.

Once all the blankets were laid and Robin had coerced you into rubbing a thick layer of suncream on her back due to her aptitude for burning you could finally take your shirt off to cool down revealing your bikini underneath. Had you been paying attention you would've seen Steve watching you intently with a slight blush across his face which he, like you, would swear was sunburn. You then would have seen Eddie catch Steves staring and wiggle his eyebrows at him wittingly which caused Steve to have no choice but to throw a handful of sand at him.

“my HAIR. What the fuck Steve” Eddie gasped as he tried to shake the sand out.

Max and El screamed as Eddie's head shaking covered them with sand.

“Stop, Eddie stop that's not doing anything” you giggled as you reached your hands into his hair to brush out any remaining sand.

“See Steven this is true friendship, right here” he said as he gestured to you.

Steve's jealousy had reached an all time high. He thought seeking his revenge against Eddie would make him feel better however it had backfired ridiculously and though he knew it wasn't Eddie's fault and he had no way of knowing Steve liked you that didn’t mean Steve wanted to strangle him any less. Okay maybe that's a bit dramatic, Eddie was still his friend and all he just wished you were running your fingers through his hair not Eddies.

“Okay I think that's all of it” you say whilst smiling at Eddie.

“Thanks, I owe ya” he says with a wink.

“If you two are done flirting, can we go swim now ?” Mike mocks.

You blush even harder and Eddie squawks, “I feel sorry for El if you think that was flirting”.

Mike rolls his eyes as Max joins in with taunting him.

“Okay okay, I want all of you to be wearing suncream, to stay near where we are and not to go too deep. Got it?” Nancy gives them all a good long stare as they murmur their agreements.

Nancy nods her head and they take it as a sign to go. All of them tripping over one another, desperate to swim. Nearly all of them made it to the water without face planting in the sand.

Once all the teens had gone into the water, without missing a beat, robin pulled the cooler in closer.

“Okay, who wants what? '' she asks while digging around inside “there's beer, cherry ice cream, soda if you’re boring and more beer” she says with a hinting glint in her eye.

“Oh so this is what teachers mean when they talk about peer pressure” you taunt with a grin.

“No no, no pressure at alllll” she says with little to no sincerity.

“Well some of us have to drive you all back” Nancy adds whilst gesturing to herself and Steve.

“Go on Nance you have one. I can drive on the way back” Jonathan offers.

“No, i-” She considers it for a moment before huffing out a breath. “no it's fine. Someone needs to watch those lot” she says as she nods toward the water where Lucas, Will , Mike and Dustin were trying (and failing) to make a human ladder whilst Max and El played mermaids.

“Nance believe it or not, most of us are somewhat competent” Steve says whilst side eyeing Eddie.

Eddie looks thoroughly offended before smirking and replying “that's a terrible thing to say Steve I thought she was your best friend” whilst wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pretending to comfort you.

Steve gives Eddie a sarcastic smile before replying “I meant you dickhead”

Eddie gasps loudly knowing full well Steve had meant him.

Steve pushes Eddie away from you and drags you into his side whilst wrapping his arm around your back

“She's the most competent out of all of us”

Now it was Nancy's turn to be offended. But before any eye poking and hair pulling started Jonathan placed a can in Nancy's hand and kissed her cheek.

“Alright let's get this partay started !” Robin declared before downing half a can of beer then coughing when she inevitably choked. She looked back up at all your bemused faces and said “what? we’re on vacation, live a little you guys”

“Yeah, yeah come on guys” Eddie agrees as he reaches for his can of beer, downs the whole can and scrunches the metal in his hand then throws the can back into the cooler and finishes with a loud whoop. You and Steve share an amused look and Nancy looks a little frightened.

“I think i'll just stick to sipping” she retorts

Robin and Eddie start booing until Jonathan throws Eddie's crumpled up can at them.

You're still glued to Steve's side and would be quite content to stay there for the rest of the afternoon, if not eternity. He reaches into the cooler and grabs a can of beer and a can of soda before opening the beer and handing it to you. You thank him with, in his opinion, a glowing smile which he would like to believe is reserved especially for him.

The conversation moves on and with the more you drink the more your mind seems to wonder. The afternoon passes by as you're deep in thought, passively adding to the conversation when you feel like it. The teens appear and then disappear sporadically as the hours pass, even Eddie and Jonathan were persuaded to get into the water. As the sun begins to set your mind settles on how warm Steve feels next to you, how nice his hand feels on your waist and how despite the sweltering heat you have no desire to move away from him. He looks over to check on you, smiling as he meets your eye.

“You good?” he asks quietly, his face mere inches from yours.

Before you can reply you feel a hand wrap around your wrist and your body is ripped from steves as you're hauled to your feet by a now very tipsy Robin.

You mourn the comfort and warmth you just lost and look at Steve apologetically. Robin pays no mind and drags you into the open space next to where you’re all sat.

“Dance with meee” her words are slurred and you can't help but think about the killer headache to poor girl will wake up with tomorrow.

“Robs we have no music” you giggle as you place your hands on her arms, half to ‘dance’ with her and half to keep her upright.

“That never stopped anyone”

You don't quite agree with her statement but go along with it anyway grabbing her hands and jumping in circles with her in the sand. You make sure not to push it as her being sick is the last thing anyone wants. You twist and turn, stumbling in the sand and catching robin numerous times due to her incoordination being heightened by the alcohol. She spins you in a circle and you feel the effects on the beer you've been sipping, you feel a haze of contentment wash over you as you continue to sway in the setting sun with a look of bliss on your face and Robin goes to find her next victim.

Steve watches the entire ordeal and thinks that you've never looked more beautiful. Even with a small glob of suncream on your shoulder that you missed when rubbing it in and a sheen of sweat covering your skin, you shine. If he could look at you like this forever he'd be more than content. He damns himself for not bringing a camera but he supposes it wouldn't be able to capture the dazzle in your eye or the sway of your hips. You break from your dancing for a second to turn to Steve and give him the widest most shining smile he'd ever seen, he waved back at you and you stuck your tongue out at him and turned back to dancing as Steve chuckled softly to himself.

“We’re just friends y’know” Eddie's voice pulled Steve from his thoughts as he turned to look at the boy next to him. “I just- look I know you like her and all and I don't want any” Eddie pauses to think of the right thing to say “...hostility between us. She's great, really great but were just friends”

“What Eddie, I don't-” he laughs awkwardly while scratching the back of his neck “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“Steve”

Eddie meets Steve's eyes with a sad look on his face.

“The way you look at her, the way you were just looking at her. You'd be blind not to notice it”

“Notice what ?” Steve asks in a small voice, already knowing the answer.

“Love”

Steve looks back to where Nancy, you and Robin were all dancing and laughing in the sunset and thinks that maybe the throat tightening, cheek blushing, knee wobbling, soul crushing feeling that only your presence seemed to elicit, was something he couldn't bear to live without. It's like you had reached into his chest and carved your name onto his heart to command it to beat only for you, and the pain it had caused him was glorious. He decided then and there that keeping you by his side was his number one priority, no matter if that meant keeping his feelings to himself as long as you were around he would be okay.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x y/n #light angst #mutual pining #idiots in love #steve harrington imagines #steve x reader

209 notes · View notes

thatlittlered · 17 hours

Text

would've, could've, should've | aaron hotchner

warning(s): one whole curse word, smoking, stunning amount of fluff and a little bit of action

GIF by @littlecarmine

part one

part two

author's note: Sorry for the delay, hope it was worth it! I also want to thank the sweet anon for the ask with the Robert Siken poem, which I included here. Next part will be straight-up filthy smut, so stay tuned, fellow sluts.

Follow me @MadeofLilies on Ao3 and let me know if you want to be tagged here.

-.-.-

You don’t see much of each other for the next couple of days. Aaron is on autopilot, avoiding any chance to be alone with you. The rest of the team unknowingly act as a buffer and all he has to do is not look at you during work hours, keep the door to his office shut to not hear your laughter.

It’s a relief when you and Morgan are called to testify in court for a case. You’re somewhere far away for the day, where he knows you’re safe and he can go back to pretending nothing has changed.

The problems start when he’s not being kept busy.

How much paperwork can one person do?

The stars align oddly in his favor and he’s into calls or meetings until long after everyone else has gone home. When ten pm rolls around, he finally calls it quits but sees no point in leaving in a hurry. It’s past Jack’s bed time, it’d be cruel to wake him up now and carry him back home when tomorrow’s Sunday. If all goes well, he can pick him in the morning and they’ll get to spend the day together.

His finger is hovering over Jessica’s number when he spots your name in his call logs. It’s silly and childish, but he hasn’t thought of you in a couple of hours and God.

Deep down, he knows he’s been incredibly unfair to you. He had to. Had to tell himself it was something outside of him causing him torment. An obstacle to overcome, a distraction to ignore. He had to act as if you were forcing your way into his life in order to be able to put up walls, but what have you really done except exist near him? He is the one to blame for allowing it to grow beneath his skin; succumbing to his need for some sort of intimacy when he could have -should have- nipped this at the bud a very long time ago. He recognized it within himself the other day, when he realized he could have -should have- kissed you.

But nothing is healed with a kiss. Only new grievances arise.

It’s where you go from there that matters and he finds himself unable to guide or be guided.

Where do you go from here?

When he decides to feed his insomnia with a cup of late-night coffee, he is yet again reminded of you. So, he calls, but you don’t answer and he pours another, completely indifferent to the idea of sleep.

It’s getting too late to be here, even by his standards. He tries calling again, but, no answer. He gathers his stuff to leave and there is a horrible feeling at the pit of his stomach when he settles inside the car. It’s only eleven and you always say you never sleep this early.

Another call, this time to Emily, who miraculously, picks up.

“Hello? Hotch?”

There is a deafening buzz in the background; loud voices and music blasting.

Aaron apologizes for the late hour and tries to be discreet when he asks about you. Says he needs to go over something about a case file but you won’t answer his calls and he got worried.

“Yeah, she’s fine, she’s right here with me, but it’s a little hard to get her right now. Is it urgent?”

“Uh, no, don’t bother her. Is everyone else there too?”

“Not everyone, just the two of us, Garcia and Morgan. Do you need them as well?”

You didn’t invite him, why would you? He would have never said yes.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

“Sorry, sir, I can’t make out much with all this noise. We’re at the ‘Matter’ if you need us. I’ll tell the guys to call you as soon as they can, okay? Have a good night.”

So, he drives two miles a little before midnight to come sit outside ‘Matter’, which is apparently a very busy nightclub downtown, half a mile away from the nearest parking spot he could find.

He doesn’t really know why he came.

He can’t come in and join you. Can’t ask for you.

They probably wouldn’t even let him in while dressed like this.

It’s very unclear what the next step is.

He knows it’s pointless to call you again when you’re probably too busy dancing and drinking with a great many people who are not him. Morgan has some trouble keeping his hands to himself when he drinks.

He sits on the curb of the street, cracks open the pack of cigarettes he snack out of the car’s glove compartment, always hidden below the insurance papers. Astoundingly loud music plays every time the doors to the club open and people come out stumbling, kissing sloppily and dragging each other away.

He just wants to see you and put this horrible feeling inside him to rest.

“No fucking way.”

He jolts at the sound of your voice and throws away the cigarette, putting it out with his shoe before he turns to see you standing outside the club. You approach timidly until you can be sure it’s him and when you step closer to the streetlight, he can really see you. The clothes you could never wear to work, the shoes you apparently spend all your money on. You’re beautiful.

He can’t possibly move until you’re sat beside him. For the first time in what seems like forever, now that he’s grown so used to it, you keep a very respectable distance between your bodies.

“You didn’t have to throw it away; I already saw you and,” you pick up the abandoned carton from the sidewalk and almost laugh at how immaculate it looks just having been opened, “I have so many questions. Since when do you smoke?”

His voice is quiet, unamused.

“Almost never.”

You look at him curiously and he thinks you would make a great interrogator simply by the way you make everyone around you spill their souls out if it will satisfy you.

“Sometimes when I’m very stressed.”

You hum, “I never would have guessed that.”

He laughs to himself and looks at his hands.

“Yeah, I’ve been doing a lot of things that are not typical of me lately.”

You help yourself to a cigarette and he cups his hand over yours when the breeze makes it too hard to light up.

“Is that because of me? Am I a bad influence?”

“No. It’s me, I’m the common denominator.”

You hum again and smile at him teasingly in an attempt to lighten the mood, “Breakthrough.”

“So, this is what therapy is like?”

He wants to thank you, for always trying to make things as easy as possible for him. You open the door and difficult as it may seem, all he really has to do is walk through it.

“No, of course not. I wouldn’t smoke in session.”

“Oh good.”

You’re sitting closer again and Aaron doesn’t know how. He doesn’t think either of you moved. He keeps his eyes on the road in front of him, glances at you only from the corner of his eye. Your perfume mingles with the smoke of the cigarette and it’s all a haze to him.

“Why are you not inside?”

“I needed a breath; it was very loud and packed in there… and I finally saw your calls.”

He hums, unable to find anything else to say.

“Why are you here?

“I don’t know.”

He knows that is not a good enough of an answer.

“I always have this terrible feeling that something is going to happen to you.”

Your shoulder touches his and he can admire the smoothness of it, focus on each mark there to avoid the dreaded eye contact.

“Do you think that fear is reasonable, or is it rooted in something else?’

His eyes shut tightly, “Don’t do that, please. Don’t talk to me like I’m a subject.”

“You use your ‘agent tone’ all the time outside of work.”

His voice deepens, “I am aware.”

Heavy breathing.

“I’m sorry I did all that and then backed out at the last minute.”

“It’s alright. I think I knew you would.”

“See, that’s even worse.”

You look at his suit, the wrinkles that have formed in the shirt underneath from the hours of wear.

“Did you come here straight from the office?”

A sigh, “Yeah.”

You nod your head in understanding and move to put out what’s left of the cigarette.

“I’m alright. I’ve got the others too; they’ll take me home. You can relax now.”

“I don’t think I ever can.”

You don’t know what to say really. If what he needs is time, you can give it, but he seems undecided as well when he picks up your hand.

“I think I’m scared of what will happen once the line is crossed.”

A confession.

That, you did not expect.

“Aside from the complications at work, I just,” his hand rubs gently on the spot your watch has left its mark, “I have proved time and time again that I can’t handle any relationship beyond professionalism and once we stop being just colleagues, I will lose you completely from my life.”

“Do you think that line has not been crossed already?”

He laughs quietly.

You can both feel the bouncer looking at you and Aaron is suddenly aware of how vulnerable he is right now.

“I guess it has.”

You’re both quiet for a little while.

“I have to go back inside now, or they’ll start getting worried.”

He looks like he’s about to say something, but no words leave his mouth.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell them you were here.”

That hurt. You know it, but what else was there to say?

“Maybe tomorrow you’ll know.”

You give his hand a reassuring squeeze before you leave and he’s left staring while you go back inside.

-.-.-

A little past two, the girls drop you off in a shared cub before going their separate ways and you rush to your apartment building, only to find Aaron waiting there.

“Well, you certainly have a thing for sitting on curbs.”

He looks tired, so tired, and alone in the empty street. It’s very hard to maintain your position when he always looks this beaten down in his most tender moments. You wish to care for him, love him back into happiness but that wouldn’t be fair.

Still, you can’t help but go to him and he is relieved that you sit closer this time.

“Have you been waiting here this whole time?”

“It hasn’t been that long.”

You softly take his right hand to look at his watch. His body relaxes at the touch.

“Huh.”

“Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah, but I’m a little more drunk than the last time you saw me.”

Your skin glows under the soft moonlight and he notices.

It is technically tomorrow now.

“How drunk?”

His face moves closer and you can’t help but shiver at the sudden change. His breath is warm on your face. The words come out in a whisper.

“Not that much.”

That’s all it takes.

His lips press against yours once… then twice and then… he doesn’t stop.

You always thought he’d be one to kiss carefully and with absolute purpose, just like he does everything else, but he kisses like a man on fire. He seeks to quench something deep inside of him and you provide happily. The remnants of your lip gloss tingle on his mouth, as if kissing you alone is not enough of an awakening.

It’s becoming increasingly hard to keep up with breathing when he envelops you so, and cages you in the pleasant whirl of his scent. When you break away for breath, he’s quick to capture you once more. His hands come to your face to keep you there until he’s had enough, but how he can he ever have enough of you?

He only lets you go because he has to. You’re both practically panting and he can’t decide what to do. He wants to kiss you, look at you, touch you, but it cannot all be done at once. When your own hand comes to his face just below his jawline, he melts under the touch. His eyes are sunken, his body is begging for rest, but it would not come without you.

“Do you want to stay with me tonight?”

His voice is low and breathy when he nods.

“Yeah…”

-.-.-

You walk upstairs, hand in hand, and Aaron can see your own exhaustion is taking over. Something started with that first touch. Your bodies wish only to find comfort near each other.

His breath is warm on your neck while you open the door, his hands softly placed on your waist with the excuse of keeping you steady. When you move to take off your shoes, he is behind you again, as if tied to you with invisible thread, and holds you gently by the elbow when he sees you struggling.

You’re suddenly very aware he is in your house again. Touching you.

“Can I get you anything?”

He shakes his head no, but you’re too focused on the way his hand moves languidly up your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake, before tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Do you need me to get you anything?”

He is so caring. So soft below the austere guise.

“I just need to take a shower,” you almost stumble backward and he thinks it’s the alcohol, but it might just be the feeling of his hands on your face, “I must have fifty different people’s sweat on me right now.”

“That’s okay. I’ll wait.”

His voice is soft – tired.

You turn on the lights for him in the living room and he gives a half-smile when you check on him again.

“I won’t be long.”

Once left alone, he gets to look around your house. He sees your carefully assorted nick-knacks and smiles at the framed pictures all over your bookshelves. He can’t help but notice you’ve chosen one, if not the only, photo of the team that he’s also part of.

He is important to you too.

He can see you in every corner of the room, in the books you buy and the realistic-looking-but-admittedly-fake plants sprinkled here and there for a lack of time to take care of any real ones. He can even see you in the soft material of the couch when he sits and lets his cheek touch the fabric. He has been here before in a dream, with your head in his lap.

The room is awfully quiet save for the gentle ticking of the clock on the wall and the sound of running water in the background. For a man that’s usually so good at sitting alone with his thoughts, he suddenly can’t stand it.

He knocks gently on the bathroom door and opens it slowly, only to be hit with the dizzying cloud of warm steam. Your head peeks behind the shower curtain and he can tell you got tired of standing and sat in the tub instead.

“Is it okay if I sit in here with you?”

You thought he’d sit on the toilet seat, but he crawls to the edge of the tub and sits on the bathmat with his back to you.

How close is close enough?

Now that he’s ventured, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be satisfied.

So, he closes his eyes and rests his head back on the, now warm, porcelain.

“Aaron.”

He doesn’t know if he actually fell asleep, but the water is now turned off and you’re looking at him. He realizes now, for the first time, that you’re naked behind him. Your hair and eyelashes are angelically wet, the sheen of water on your flushed skin is divine. He knows that you’d be warm if he touched you now.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes.”

You smile at him -siren- and your hand grabs a handful of his shirt, staining it with water that reaches his body underneath and makes him shiver. You kiss him with plump wet lips and he reaches for you. His hand entangles in your hair until you’re both practically pulling at each other.

A less enamored man would have broken away just to sneak a peek at your bare skin, but he won’t. He is respectful even now, even like this.

“I should have kissed you the other day. I’m sorry I didn’t.”

It’s a whisper when his mouth leaves yours, but you catch it.

You hum, eyes glossy, “Would've, could've, should’ve.”

What matters is now.

He kisses you again – just one more time. You both feel like giddy, lovesick children.

“Can you hand me my bathrobe?”

The bathrobe is also impossibly soft to the touch and when you emerge clad in it, he thinks he’d like to hold you. The spell of the warm steam is broken outside, however, and being so close to your naked body suddenly becomes very serious.

You let him sit in your bed, still fully clothed, save for his suit jacket, and he closes his eyes again. The comforter underneath is lovely.

Is everything in this house soft?

Is this what it feels like to be loved by you?

You disappear inside the walk-in closet and reappear, now properly dressed in your pajamas. The bed dips when you sit next to him and he turns to you completely.

“I have a T-shirt you can sleep in, don’t know about pants though.”

Please. Just be here, with him.

He watches you leave, but it’s not long before you return with the aforementioned shirt. You laugh when he finally realizes he’ll have to sleep in his boxers.

“Don’t worry, I won’t take advantage of you.”

He throws a teasing look, but can’t possibly come up with a clever answer right now.

“I’ll go dry my hair and you can get dressed, alright?”

You are so gentle with your guidance that it makes him feel like a helpless child, but there’s a hidden relief at that. It’s nice; being cared for like this and there is something to be said about parallels, with you going now to do as you had done a week and a half ago in a Florida hotel and him waiting for you – on your bed.

It’s the same, but it’s different.

He hangs his work clothes carefully on the chair in the corner of your room and goes to sit on the bed, but feels too uncomfortable to climb under the covers. He knows you’d find his duality funny; how he goes from hungrily kissing you to being too embarrassed to join you in bed, even if it’s only for sleep.

You notice his stiffness when you come back in the room, but don’t say anything. It’s not exactly easy for you either, you’re just better at hiding it than he is. You choose to lead by example instead and turn off the lights before reaching for the one on your nightstand and climbing inside your bedding.

He only speaks to deflect attention from him again, “You have a TV in your room.”

“Jealous?”

He turns to look at you and you’re perched up on the plump pillows, smiling at him. Your hand reaches for his own over the comfort and you gently pull him to you.

He comes, of course.

“I don’t watch a lot of TV.”

“Of course you don’t.”

He joins you with his back on the pillows and his shoulder touching yours, but he’s still too stiff.

“What do you watch?”

“Mostly reruns of sitcoms-,” he laughs at that, “-Seinfeld.”

“Isn’t that show a thousand years old?

“You would know.”

He laughs again and you can almost make out a wounded pout on his face, but a kiss is enough of a cure. His shoulders relax and he gives in to the warmth and softness; be it the bed or you next to him. You can tell he’s barely managing to stay awake, but he still can’t let go completely. His head slumps backward again.

“Can we turn it on?”

You find the courage to caress his hair, admiring the softness of it and the discreet sprinkle of grey that you can only see up close.

“If you want.”

The quiet humming of the television and your breath in his ear, putting his mind to ease, are enough for him to finally sleep and you’re not long behind. His head is turned to the side where you are, hand tightly holding yours.

Later in the night, when you stir in your sleep, he pulls you further into him – wraps his arm around you completely and doesn’t let go.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #thomas gibson

148 notes · View notes

luminiamore · 19 hours

Text

NEEDY.

brought back to life toji x black reader

warnings: cheating but he offs ur bf so not really?, angst in the beginning, we raised megs with toji, depression in the beginning, this is kinda sad but really cute, no prep just straight sex, reader has locs but it could be whateva u want, overstimulation, soft sex, soft toji, SPOILERS if u haven’t watched the anime.

masterlist

Twelve years.

It’s been that long. Twelve long, agonizing years have passed since you’ve seen Toji. He disappeared on you. Gone. Vanished. One day, he woke you up from a nap and told you he would be gone for a week or so for a job. You understood that his line of work is dangerous. You knew there was a possibility that he could die at any moment.

But he told you not to worry. They were kids, he said.

‘You know me, mama. I don’t die easily.’

He’s a sorcerer killer. He’s strong. It was always apparent to you that he could manage himself. Of course, that never stopped you from worrying.

You began to feel anxious after three weeks. During dinner time, you would cook him meals and fall asleep, hoping that he would come to you stumbling and embrace your body whole as he usually does.

After four weeks, you began to sleep less. The silence in your apartment would haunt you. The sound of every footstep passing by your wooden door and every creak on the floor would make you jump. Imagining that, finally, it would be him who would walk through it. He never did.

After the fifth week, you started calling his boss and friend, but he would never say it out loud. Each time it went to voicemail, you would cry uncontrollably. You may have sent him over one thousand messages, but they all went unanswered. The man probably blocked your number.

You honestly didn’t know what you expected.

Toji tried to keep Shiu and you apart as much as he could. You two were never close. The only thing you had Shiu’s number for was safety purposes, in case you were ever in danger while he was away on the job.

The truth took you five months to accept. To accept that Toji was never going to come back. It took you another three months to come to terms with the fact that Toji was dead.

Throughout all of this, Megumi, his son, gave you comfort. Though it was supposed to be the other way around, you had a feeling he knew what was wrong with you. At times, you couldn’t even get up to cook food and instead chose to order out so he could eat while you lay starving. At the tender age of four, Megumi was skilled in making homemade soup due to your frequent illnesses.

After a year or so, you thought -- you barely left your bed, so you lost track of time, a man came knocking at your door. White hair and bright, bright blue eyes can be seen even with glasses covering his eyes.

You should have fought him, beaten him to a fucking pulp. You’ve always had a keen sense of intuition. You knew he was the one who killed Toji, your Toji. Your gut was screaming that to you.

But what would you be able to do? You had no cursed energy. You couldn’t fight this man even though your husband had taught you some things in his free time. You had no chance against him, and the cocky bastard was aware of that.

He wasn’t here for you anyway. It was obvious to you that when he pushed past you and entered your home, he immediately started to search for Megumi. Knowing that the little boy could see curses, he suspected that his technique was starting to manifest, so he informed him that he could provide assistance.

Hearing the conversation in the kitchen, your breath paused when he mentioned that he would be going to Tokyo. You would be alone, but you refuse to be selfish and force him to watch over you in your depressed state. You urged him to go, urged him to make a change in the world even if it physically pained you.

Megumi made a promise to visit you every year and never leave you. He was truthful to you. Every year, he would spend a week with you, and you would see the boy you helped raise become a capable young man. He would occasionally show you his technique to demonstrate how much he has grown. You couldn’t have been more proud.

It took you 8 years, but you eventually moved on from Toji physically. Your heart still belongs to him emotionally.

Although you never remarried, you did have a boyfriend. He’s a kind man, has a regular corporate job, earns a livable yearly salary, and is not a killer, so there’s no danger of him being murdered. He also treats you nicely, arranging a dinner date every week and a vacation to a nice place every year.

You should’ve been happy. You should love him— why don’t you?

Why is it that every time he fucks you, all you see and think of is Toji? When you respond to his love for you, it leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. Because you know it’s not true. You know it would never be true.

Megumi has a liking for him and believes he is a good fit for you. After what you went through, it’s fair to say that you deserve this. Though, it’s easy for him to sense how unhappy you are, that you’re putting on a facade in front of the man you’re supposed to love. If the man really knew you, he would understand that every time you smile and kiss him, it was an effort, especially after being together for almost 3 years.

You’re not sure why you never left him. You think this is better than feeling alone. Even if it wasn’t as good as Toji, you still got fucked every other night. It could never be better than Toji. You think he’s ruined you for anyone else.

October 31st, 2018. 11 a.m.

It’s Wednesday, October 31st, and it’s the week Megumi is supposed to come to see you.

You begin your day as you usually do. Your boyfriend wakes you up with a kiss right before he leaves for work, and you groggily force your body straight to the shower. While the eggs sizzle, you make a light breakfast as you stare into space.

As you’re eating, you feel your stomach drop. There is an odd sensation in your gut, a negative one. You experienced the same feeling when Toji died. You hastily pull out your phone and dial Megumi’s number.

One ring. Two. Three rings and no response.

“..Mom?”

His tone is fatigued as if you had woken him from his sleep. At that, you breathe a sigh of relief. However, the feeling persists.

“Are you okay, Megs?”

He sounds confused, although you suspect he can sense your concern in your voice, “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be? Is something wrong?”

“Do you have a mission today?”

Your frantic questioning without an answer is now causing him anxiety.

“There’s something going on in Shibuya tonight, so yeah.” You don’t answer him for a beat, just breathing as you feel your heart beating faster as his response.

“Are you okay, mo-”

“Please, don’t go. I have a bad feeling again.”

He sighs, “You know I can’t do that. It’s supposed to be something manageable, nothing too ba-”

You sternly cut him off, “Megumi. It’s not going to be manageable, I can feel it.”

“If you’re saying that, then it means I need to go and help even more, Mom.”

You’re trembling, and- Are you crying? You feel the tear slide down your cheek before you can even register it. You have always been afraid of Megumi going out to fight curses, but for some reason, your fear is growing stronger.

Your breath stutters, “What if- what if you-”

The thought of Megumi getting badly injured or even dying is so terrifying that you can’t even finish your sentence. You don’t believe you can endure that. No, you know you can’t. You’re still grieving over your husband. How could you possibly stomach his death?

This time, he cuts you off, “I can’t promise you that I won’t go. But I can promise to stay at a safe distance so I don’t die.”

“You’re so selfless, it’s infuriating.” You chuckle through your tears, using your unoccupied hand to wipe them off.

“I love you too.” You can tell he’s trying to stifle a laugh of his own.

You smile, even though he can’t see you, “I love you so much. Please, don’t die.”

“I’ll make sure to haunt you if I do.”

A gasp, “Megumi!”

“Joking.. sort of.”

He hangs up with another ‘Love you’ before you can scold him. And now you’re forced to swallow the lump in your throat. It’s okay, you remind yourself. You’re gonna be okay. Megumi is gonna be fine. He’ll come see you on Friday like he usually does. But even you’re aware that you’re just trying to console yourself.

The day is spent trying to distract yourself. You had the time to paint your nails and toes, try on some new outfits that you bought last week, and even try reading a book. But the feeling would never go away. In fact, it intensified as the darkness outside increased.

October 31st, 2018. 11 p.m.

Around 11 p.m., your boyfriend arrived and greeted you with his usual kiss on the cheek and casual discussion about both of your days. Every day, you think, today is the day. Today is the day you’ll get a tingling feeling whenever he kisses you. Today is the day you’ll feel warmth whenever he says he missed you or he loved you.

But it never came, and today was no different. You had made some food and decided to leave some for him, he had taken a liking to your cooking.

“I’m gonna head to bed. You’re gonna join me?”

“In a few, I wanna stay up a little longer.” You whisper, absentmindedly watching the plate he’s eating from. You don’t even notice. You’re entirely zoned out.

He kisses the side of your head when he stands up.

He kisses the side of your head when he stands up, “Okay, thanks for the food, babe. Let’s go out to eat tomorrow, yeah?”

“Sure.”

He pulls back hesitantly, hands still on your shoulder as he observes the lost look in your eyes, “Are you okay, babe? You seem.. out of it.”

All he gets is a slow nod and a small kiss on his knuckles. That seems to be enough for him because he hums and whispers a small “Love you.” and walks away.

The sound of the shower running after a few minutes is your cue to clean up. As you scrub the burnt parts of the pasta you made, you hear your phone ringing. When you glance over, it turns out to be Megumi.

11:38 p.m.

‘why the fuck is Dad alive? he just disappeared after helping me with some curse??’

Your hands become completely limp as the plate you are holding drops abruptly and crashes into the wet sink. Your eyes were wide and unblinking as you stood frozen. Your breath is caught in your throat, making it impossible to exhale. Your mind is overflowing with thoughts, each one more anxious than the last.

What?

You haven’t moved a single inch, but your hands are now shaking.

Toji is what?

No. He’s lying. But that’s not true either. Megumi would never deceive you, especially about his dad being alive. Your hands are trembling as you try to reach for your phone, but you’re stopped in your tracks by a loud crash.

You come out of your frozen state, and as if you’re running on autopilot, you run as fast as you can to the sound that hits the cold tile floor. But what you see next almost causes you to burst into tears because there he is, your husband.

Toji is right there, in your room, holding a sharp red wooden blade against your boyfriend’s neck. He’s in a gray sweater, but even then, you can see his muscles and just how big he is through it. He’s not looking at you, but with the way his shoulders raise and his breath hitches— he knows you’re watching.

Hearing him speak brings a tear to your cheek. It’s been a long time since you last heard his voice. The world seemed to stop moving, leaving you in a surreal moment stuck in time. You can’t believe it, you’ve lost all hope, but he is here. Sending the ugliest glare to the man on the other side of the blade in your bedroom is enough to make you shiver,

“Who the hell is this, baby?”

You say nothing, relishing in the sound of him speaking to you. Your heart pounded fiercely, echoing in your ears, while a wave of dizziness threatened to overwhelm you.

It’s when your boyfriend grunts in an angry tone, “What the fuck is happening, (❤︎)?!” You finally snap out of your stupor.

It’s not a surprise you stutter when you speak, but you don’t even say much. You pitifully let out a squeak of,

“T-Toji?”

You want him to look at you, want him to see you. You want to make sure that it’s really him you’re looking at, but he seems so focused and upset? Your eyes move away from his face briefly to take a glance at the weapon threatening to penetrate your boyfriend’s neck.

You speak so lowly, almost as if you’re ashamed to admit your following words, “My boyfriend. He’s my boyfriend.”

Despite boarding on the brink of death, he still manages to harbor a false confidence when you say that, “Exactly, man, so, who the fuck are you?”

“Her husband.”

At that, your boyfriend chokes, and now his anger is directed towards you, “Husband? You’re married?! We’ve been together for 3 years, and you-”

“He was dead!” You suddenly find your voice, a bit hysterically. You turn to Toji, who still isn’t looking at you but presses harder into his neck. You can see a trickle of blood start to drip. “You were dead- You are dead.”

His response is cold, blunt, “I’m about to kill the bastard standing half naked in my wife’s house, so, no. I’m very much alive, mama.”

“How? How are you alive?”

“Long story.” Is all he utters.

“I’ve waited 12 fucking years, I’m sure you can spare me a little more time.”

At that, he has the audacity to sigh as if you’re the one being difficult. You jump back and yelp when he suddenly plunges the weapon into your boyfriend- ex’s neck. You open your mouth, about to ask him what the hell that was for, but he answers before you can, “Unwanted company.”

When he finally turns his head to look at you, you swear he’s more beautiful than you remember. Everything looks the same, but something’s off. His eyes were blackish, or maybe it was a deep purple color in his sclera— that was supposed to be white, wasn’t it? His pupils are purple, too, or was it blue? You’re not sure, but you don’t find him any less beautiful.

“Toji.. I- how?”

He grumbles, and in one blink, he’s in front of you, hands on your waist and lips immediately logged deep in your neck, not quite sucking but just breathing you in. The action makes you shiver, and the feeling of him so close to you causes more tears to fall. “Some old hag did a seance. Wanted me to kill all sorcerers.”

Your breath hitches, but you sternly reply, “Our son is a sorcerer.”

“Obviously, I’m not going to.”

He smiles at the fact that you said ‘Our.’ He can feel the tears on your neck, and he honestly feels he might drop some of his own. Twelve years in hell—because let’s be real, there was no way someone of his caliber was making it to heaven— and he hasn’t seen you. Hasn’t touched you. He’d rather kill you than not fuck you again- he’d have to force himself to do so.

He’s not ashamed to admit he missed you. He feels guilty for putting you through this, through twelve years with him. He said he was coming back, he couldn’t imagine your despair when he didn’t. He hates himself for causing you that pain, for pushing you into the arms of another man.

He muffled out, “D’ya love him?”

It takes you a minute to answer, you feel a bit ashamed to admit this since he just died, “Never did. I only ever loved you.”

“Loved? You don’t love me anymore?”

You break out another sob, “I never stopped Toji.”

This time, he doesn’t answer, but there’s a nagging question in the back of his mind that he needs answered, “Three years, hm? You fuck him?” Your next words give him the answer he needs.

“Toji- it’s been years! You were-”

“Dead, I know. You didn’t look too sad when he died. He could never fuck you like me, huh?”

He knows he shouldn’t be upset. He knows he has no right to be angry at you. You had every right to move on. He didn’t ghost you or just disappear casually. He was dead. The thought never sat well with him, though. It made his stomach churn. He always told you that if you ever cheated on him, he would kill the man and then himself. He could never bring himself to hurt you physically.

But is it even cheating if he was dead?

A whisper breaks him out of his thoughts, “No.”

What an angel you are. Answering him even when he isn’t even speaking out loud. His mind is confused. So he does what he used to do when he needs to let out his frustrations— use your body as a stress reliever.

When his hands grope your hips, you let out a desperate moan. Fuck you are desperate, you haven’t felt your lover in years.

“Damn- I missed you, baby. Missed how soft you are, missed holding you.” His tongue starts slowly, lapping softly at your collarbone.

Your breath starts getting shaky, and the slick that’s been forming since you first laid eyes on him is dripping down your thighs, “Missed you so much more.”

He’s not in the mood to wait. He’d usually tease you before he impaled you on his dick. But it’s been too long since he felt any warmth from you- he’s not stalling any longer.

“Need to fuck you, now. You remember how to take me, right?”

He was quick with his hands, ripping the nightgown you had on to shreds. You’re bare in front of his gaze, and you can see how he was practically drooling— the man was in a trance.

If Toji is as big as you remember, then taking him would be a challenge. You could never do it without some form of prep, be it him eating you out until you cried or fingering you till your legs trembled. Sometimes it was both. But you could tell he wasn’t in the mood to do either of those right now. He just wanted to stuff you, so you’d have to suck it up and let him.

You give him a shaky nod, “Yes, please.”

He lazily rubs on your engorged bud, spreading your slick all over your fat pussy lips. He releases the most toe-curling moan when he feels how wet you are, and it’s all for him. He doesn’t keep the act up for long and dips two fingers inside. They stretch you so wide you can’t help but buck your hips against the wall he has you pressed on.

“Hnng- Toji! Just put it in, p-please.”

He grunts, but he can never argue against you. Toji forces his tip past your tight walls, and you have to hiss it out. You’re wet enough that the first inch slides in easily, but you’re so tight that he thinks you’re about to squeeze his tip right off.

He groans out, seemingly more out of breath than you are, “Relax, mama. Breathe before you break my dick off.”

“M’trying!” Is your only response. More tears are dripping down your face, both from the pain and how close you are to him.

Toji decides to distract you by rubbing tight circles on your clit, and that causes your breath to stutter and your moans to increase in volume. That does the trick because as you’re focused on the pleasure, he doesn’t hesitate to shove everything into you in one go. All nine inches- but shit, you swear it feels bigger.

“Oh god! It’s too much- I can’t-”

“God took me away from you. Made us spend twelve years apart. It’s not God making you feel this way, it’s me. Focus on me.”

You’re nodding before he can even finish his sentence because he’s right. Toji gives you a few seconds- maybe 30 before his patience runs around, and he starts slowly rutting in you. He knows how big he is. Takes pride in it, too. So, he doesn’t stop rubbing your clit to ease the feeling of him stretching you out.

As he instructs, all your focus is on him. Your hazy eyes focus on his face, his brows furrowed in pleasure, and his lips parted as he pants against you. You can’t help but kiss him, suck his chapped pink lips so hard you can feel his scar against your tongue. And he doesn’t hesitate to kiss you back. It isn’t a fight for dominance, Toji easily takes all control of you, and you surrender with no regrets.

You take his cock beautifully, so well. Every time he pushes out, your pussy just pulls him back in, making a wet squelch sound when his hips slap against yours. He can feel the goosebumps on your body whenever his tip presses harshly on your g-spot, and so he keeps the same pace and stroke— determined to make you cum just like this.

You wail out as your eyes roll into the back of your head, “Oh! Right there, don’t s-stop!”

“Never. Won’t ever stop fucking you, baby. Need you to forgive me anyway.”

“For l-leaving me?”

He chuckles against your puffy lips and pulls harshly on your brown locs so your neck cranes to look directly at him, “Yes, mama. I’m sorry for leaving you, for leaving our son. So sorry. Won’t ever do it again, I promise.”

You’re crying again. Tears are flowing freely now, and Toji thinks you’re beautiful and even ethereal. He glances down, and a creamy white paste forms at the base of his cock- getting even more wet each time he pulls out of you.

“I c-cried so much, Toji. For months, for years. You- you-”

“Shh. I know, baby. I know. I’m selfish for doing that, a complete asshole. I’d hate me too.”

You’re nodding, but you could never think of him as such. You would never call Toji anything mean, anything harsh- despite what he put you through.

Your pussy is twitching against him, “Don’t hate you. Could never h-hate you.”

He kisses your lips, all over your face, really, “Yeah? Damn, I love you. You love me?”

“Yes! Yes- I love you. Only you.”

He moans and presses against your stomach, his bulge poking out. Your breaths come in ragged gasps, your body tightening as a wave of pleasure builds inside of you. Your muscles clenched, and an uncontainable rush surged through you. Fuck, you’re gonna come.

Toji can feel it, and his slow pace speeds up. He whispers in your ear, pulling at your lobe, “Cum, baby. Go ahead, I need it.”

Finally, with a shuddering cry, you tipped over the edge. Ecstasy washed over you in powerful, pulsing waves. Your body trembled a blissful release, leaving you breathless and utterly spent. Despite your haze, Toji doesn’t stop, nor do you feel his thick cum flowing past your walls.

He can sense the confusion in you, and all he does to ease your mind is, “3 years, right? How about 3 orgasms for every year I wasn’t with you, huh? Think we can reach 36, mama?”

Your eyes widen in disbelief because that doesn’t even sound possible, but you’re distracted by another toe-curling orgasm ripping through you- your clit pulsing in overstimulation. As always, he knows what you’re thinking, but he doesn’t seem to be backing down with his next words.

“Yeah, I think we can.”

#lumiwrites #jjk x black reader #jjk smut #toji fushigro x reader #toji fushiguro x black reader smut #toji fushiguro x black reader #toji x you #toji smut #jujutsu toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji fushiguro #toji zenin #toji x reader #jjk toji #toji x y/n #toji fluff #jjk fanfic #gojo satoru #Spotify

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grind-pantera · 2 days

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I just need to talk about Cornelius because he's just a baby and for sure keeps Blue Eyes on his toes 🥺

Title: Actions are Stronger. Fandom: Planet of the Apes. Pairing: ( Mildly, I'm working on it okay ) Implied! Blue Eyes x Reader. Rating: K. ( FULL OF FLUFF BABY. ) Words: 1.6K Summary: You were left alone to watch Cornelius until Blue Eyes returned. You had no idea what you were doing. ●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・●・○・

You felt small hands tangling into your hair. Laughing at the mere sensation, you raised your arms and grasped at the small Chimp responsible. Sounds of sadness left them as their fingers rose out of your hair, your grasp bringing them down and away from the prospect of pulling your hair right out of your head. Cornelius looked up at you - eyes so familiar and so impeccably like his Fathers that you found it difficult to not find any endearing feelings towards him.

He hooted at you, obviously not content that you had grasped him and pulled him down from the eagerness he had to explore your hair, and with that, you placed him softly on the ground in front of you. Now--- It wasn’t your responsibility in the Colony to watch the young. In fact, you were pretty adamant to Caesar when he told you to look after his offspring that you weren’t sure how to. He just told you for a few minutes, until Blue Eyes returned from his endeavors with Ash.

Cornelia was resting, Blue Eyes knew he needed to be back by dusk. Caesar wanted her to rest, irked in all respects that his other son was not back yet and that’s how you ended up with the younger of the two Ape Prince’s. Well, better to learn now than later, right? You thought to yourself and watched as the baby Chimp shuffled back towards you on all fours after momentarily being entranced by a few rocks, eyes rather sharp and focused with wonderment as he jumped right into your lap.

To be analyzed by a baby was to be loved, right? A soft chuckle bursted from your mouth as he pried at the zipper of your jacket at the base of your neck, bringing his face in and placing his mouth against it. You watched as he went through stages. It was not food, that much was apparent. Small fingers moved it side to side. Nothing. He decided to grasp it firmly and pull. It moved downwards. The shock rocketed through him, he pounced on your lap, up and around your shoulders to rest snuggly now on your right shoulder, still peering down at the zipper. At the vibrations of the zipper and whimpered at it quietly. The sound must have scared him, you figured.

“Zipper,” You said, very aware of the small green eyes now focusing on your word, “That’s called a zipper.” You knew it was fruitless, that he wouldn’t talk back to you but that was more than okay. He had to learn communication one way or another, and you were more than willing to teach Cornelius a word or two as you waited patiently for his older brother near the bonfire of the Colony. Blue Eyes was nudged by Ash, forcing the Ape to stagger slightly on his feet with a huff of a laugh. They just returned, albeit a bit late, from their watch of the area. Assigned in pairs of two, they were responsible to maintain security around the land perimeter Caesar established so many years ago for the Colony. After tendering the horses into the paddock, Blue Eyes signed to his friend that he was responsible for Cornelius that evening, and that he would be unable to hang out anymore unless Ash had a strong desire to hang out with his baby brother. Ash nodded in understanding, joking a bit with his closest friend, ‘Could teach Cornelius the right way to do things, the Blue Eyes way.’ The young Chimp laughed at that again and nodded, responding in quick signing, ‘Don’t think Father would like that at all.’ And with a goodbye to part, Blue Eyes and Ash went their separate ways. Ash, to his family. Blue Eyes to trail his way to the family nest to get his brother. He felt tired- it was an incredibly long and boring day and that’s how it often is for the security perimeter entailment. Luckily, Blue Eyes thought to himself, he wouldn’t have to do it again for a few weeks. “That’s my hair.” Hm… That sounded like… Blue Eyes shifted his body, angling himself towards the bonfire. If you were there, he hadn’t seen you in his initial sweep as he trailed through the common area just seconds ago. “You have fur,” That was definitely your voice, Blue Eyes would recognize it anywhere--- Wait, he would? He pondered that silently as he moved towards the sound of your statement. “I have hair.” There was a chittering after your words came to stop. Just as quickly as Blue Eyes recognized your voice, he was washed all too familiarly with the sounds of his baby brother. He wasn’t aggressive in nature as he rounded the bonfire, finally setting his gaze on the two of you, he was quick to move though, absolutely floored at the sight in front of him. He stood silently, observing for a few tender moments. His brother--- On your back now, fingers absolutely crushing into your hair. Blue Eyes was tentative at that--- Until Cornelius pulled, probably harder than either of you were expecting and you yelped, reaching up to grab the baby once again and scolding him, “No, no. We don’t pull my hair!” He whined at you, Blue Eyes narrowed his eyes to see the expression of his brother’s face. He was disappointed and sad. Shuffling forward on all four, he finally allowed himself the pleasure of being seen. You hadn’t noticed him yet, but Cornelius did as he quite frankly popped out of the grasp you had on him and jumped excitedly towards the larger frame of Blue Eyes. He had heard your protest, asking to come back, watching as you fell onto your knees in front of you before you finally turned to see where the baby had gone.

An unfamiliar expression hit your face once you saw Blue Eyes; a flush of heat encapsulating your entire body at the fact that you were now on your hands and knees and must have looked like an absolute fool Without hesitation or reservation on either side, Blue Eyes grasped his brother with one hand and placed him tenderly on his good shoulder, his other still sore and scratched from the bear attack a few weeks ago. You needed to say something or this entire situation was going to get more weird than it already was. Straightening yourself up, you stood onto your feet and wiped the dirt off your knees and hands. “I uhm…” You started speaking, moving towards the two of them. Out of caution of being too close to you, as Blue Eyes typically was for some reason, you stopped moving and bit your bottom lip in contemplation of what to tell him. “Your dad-- Caesar,” How odd to correct yourself, Blue Eyes tilted his head but let you continue as Cornelius began playing with the fur on his back. “He uh--- asked me to watch Cornelius until you came back. He had---” You laughed awkwardly, not sure what the Ape King really needed to do, “No idea. He asked me to watch him…”

Blue Eyes did soften his gaze once he got a logical and sound reason from you. He nodded, pacing towards you ever so slightly. Only three or four steps, depending how you looked at it as he was still on all fours. Smiling at him, you were almost entranced by the nature of his eyes in the light of the fire next to you. You were always so curious how he ended up with blue instead of the green all the other Apes had, but that’s what kept you so captivated as he looked at you- From your feet all the way up to your head. If he were human, you’d almost make the assumption that he was checking you out but… This was Blue Eyes. Soften, quiet and fiercely protective of what he loved and held dear to him. You swallowed softly, bringing your hand up to lightly place it on Cornelius’ head, Blue Eyes launched into a small panic at the prospect that you were going to touch him. “I had a good time watching him, he’s very good.” Blue Eyes felt pride at that. “I think I taught him a few new words. If he starts talking and says any of them, let me kno---” “Thank… You….”

You blinked, dropping your hand away from Blue Eyes and his younger brother. Had…. Had you just heard correctly? Did… Your eyes widened in surprise. Did Blue Eyes just verbalize? You knew he could, it would have been incredibly ignorant for you to think otherwise given his father was the Ape King, and the entire Colony had sprung from Apes that evolved from the ALZ. You just… In your fit of confusion, you tried to recollect but to no avail. You were right in your assumption.

This was the first time you had heard Blue Eyes say something. Not just sign, but use his voice. It was surely gruff, most likely from years of non-use, but it felt good, a pudding sense of accomplishment hitting you that he had spoken something, even if it were the most meager idea of gratitude. Feeling rather transfixed at that, you nodded an acknowledgement. Blue Eyes gave you one more gaze, lingering just a few seconds longer, before he turned to trail away, back towards the nest for the evening to watch his brother and get rest.

You?

You were left just as perplexed as before, if not more now that you knew the sound of Blue Eyes’ voice.

#blue eyes #blue eyes x reader #planet of the apes x reader #pota x reader #emmy writes #fanfiction #fanfic #caesar #kotpota #kingdom of the planet of the apes

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luveline · 3 days

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I would love to see Derek with a super confident sunshine gf but May be she gets super shy and flustered when he compliments her or makes a dirty joke and just like the first time it happens and Derek is so taken aback by her shyness bc he's used to her being chatty and confident

“Hi, Dr. Reid.”

Derek knows it’s gonna be a good day when you come in already flirting.

“Hi,” Spencer says. “Want a bagel?”

“Thanks, handsome, but I already had breakfast.” Derek leans back in his chair to watch you, and you see his moving, turning your attention to him with an equally brilliant smile. “Hi, Agent Morgan.”

“You can call me Derek, baby.”

“No, I don’t think so,” you say lightly. You pull your pea coat tighter against yourself and give a breath. “Is it cold in here today, or is it just me?”

“There’s a problem with the radiators,” Spencer says. “They sent out an email this morning to dress warmly. It’ll be fixed by tomorrow, apparently.”

“Oh. I didn’t see. I don’t think I’m dressed for the cold,” you say, looking down at your short heels. “I would’ve worn sneakers like you, Spence.”

“I brought some extra socks?” Spencer says.

“Well, keep me a pair in case I need them?” you ask.

“Sweetheart, if it’s warming up you need, you come straight to me,” Derek says, his tone warm as his promise, “I’ll find a way to keep you comfortable, that’s on my life, don’t waste your time with anybody else.”

He doesn’t mean it to sound so heavily sexual, but he absolutely did mean for it to be an innuendo. Regardless, he isn’t expecting this —you look straight to Spencer like you want to check he’s heard it, and you fluster hard, fisting the strap of your purse where it’s snug over your shoulder, a small smile playing on your lips.

“Okay,” you say shyly, nodding, looking at the space to the left of Derek’s shoulder. “Won’t waste my time.”

He doesn’t know what to say. You’ve always been sweet like that, your sunny disposition drew him to you like a moth to a flame, and yet Derek can’t recall ever having made you fluster so quickly, and so visibly.

Derek suspects he’d find neck hot under his hand with a flush if he touched it. laughs loudly, pen in his hands wagging up and down as he fights the urge to say anything else and prolong your agony.

You give a soft laugh, flustered, embarrassed and breathless, tapping his ankle with your shoe. “That was a bit mean.”

“Sweetheart,” he says, sorry Spencer has to be here to see it, “I was kidding.”

“I know!” You also give Spencer a sorry look.

Spencer, while sometimes slow to pick up subtle social cues, thankfully gets the idea and stands up from his chair. Derek follows suit, though he doesn’t scarper for the kitchen.

“That caught me off guard,” you say, laughing again as he offers his arms to you.

“What happened?” He tugs you forward. You tuck your arms behind his neck to kiss his jaw, the morning hello.

“You said it like you were bossing me around!” you defend yourself.

“And you liked that?”

“Stop, stop,” you laugh. “I wasn’t expecting it. You never boss me around. You’re nicer than anybody gives you credit for.”

“You think so?” he asks, still teasing, but also vaguely smug. To get to hug you in the office, arms on your waist, prettiest face ever made, Derek can’t help himself. “I really will keep you warm. I’ll get you a heater.”

“You’re my heater.”

“I’m hot-blooded.”

You part ways with mutual reluctance. “You’re something, Derek.”

He enjoys making you laugh, and the shy tilt of your head as you’d recovered, but he’s much happier when you’re bundled up at your desk with a hot cup of coffee and his promised space heater plugged in at your feet, chatting across the way to him about what you want to do this weekend if he doesn’t get called away.

“Maybe we can buy a couple of DVD’s and you can warm me up all weekend,” you suggest, an attempt to pretend you aren’t bothered by his comment anymore, that it had been a momentary lapse in judgement.

Derek’s content to give you anything you ask for. “Sure, sweetheart. Whatever you want.”

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

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chlorinecake · 1 day

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「 𓍯𓂃 I KISSED HER FOREHEAD AND NOW SHE'S 𝒢IVING ME CRYSTALS ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 」

𝐢𝐞. super Y2K crush scenarios with 𝐍𝑒𝕨 𝐉𝚎𝐚𝕟s

── ✰⋆⁺ 𓊆ྀི . . path to bookshelf ◍ 𓊇ྀི 🔮 虹 . . . 𝔸ᶰĎ 𝒴𝐨𝕌 ?. . .

❖︎ pa𝓲ring .ᐟ 뉴진스 x female!reader

❖ g𝓮nre .ᐟ fluff, comfort, wlw, friends to lovers

❖ 𝒘𝗈𝗋𝖽 count .ᐟ 𝟏,𝟎𝟒𝟏 total ✩ ✩ ✩

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐉𝐈 ── ❝ You smell pretty today... ❞

“You too!” You blurted out, right before realizing you'd gotten your words mixed up, “Wait- I meant to say you look pretty, but... I guess I mean both? Gosh, does that even make sense?”

A tiny smile spread across Minji's features at your adorable timidness, her boot-clad feet taking a few steps towards you before pulling you close, gracing your frame with a tender hug, “It makes perfect sense, weirdo… thanks...”

Her voice was calm and soothing as usual, despite the way it made butterflies swarm in the spot where your heart should be. You couldn't really explain it, but something about Minji's energy always had a way of making you look and feel like a lovesick geek by time you got a proper sentence out—

“So,” she began again, breaking from the embrace and looking you straight in the eye, her hands resting at your shoulders, “when were you gonna tell me about this little crush you have on me?”

Your eyes widened like you had seen a ghost, a nervous chuckle slipping past your lips as she tilted her head at you, just as you muttered a distracting, “Right after I told you which Victoria's Secret fragrance I'm wearing?”

𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐈 𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐌 ── ❝ Crystals? As a gesture?... ❞

“Pfft, of course!” Hanni replied matter-of-factly, “just like how you gave me coins for that gum-ball machine we passed earlier… but who's keeping track of all that stuff anyways?”

“You, apparently...,” you said as a gentle laugh escaped your lips at her quirky reply, “but touché, Hanni Pham... what should I do with these?”

“Hmmm,” she hummed, cupping your right palm in her own as the colorful stones glittered beneath the mall’s sunroof, “you can put them under your pillow at night!... o-or maybe even stash them in your purse so you can think about me wherever you go!”

“As if I'd need a crystal’s assistant with that,” you teased, ruffling her hair slightly with your free hand. “These are cool, though,” you went on, heart warming at both the feeling of your hand in hers and at the unique gift, “very sweet of you...”

“Eh, I tryyyy,” she replied smugly, right before blowing a tiny pink bubble with the gum she chewed, only to spit the leftover candy into a napkin and ask, “wanna close your eyes and guess what flavor you taste on me?...”

𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐇 ── ❝ I like your sweater… ❞

“Oh, this old thing?” Danielle asked with her warm Australian accent, taking the colorful sweater’s hem in her fingers to examine it's loose threads, “My nana knit this for me like... forever ago...”

“Well it's cool to see she was a step ahead of fashion trends back then,” you smiled, letting your hand brush over the soft yarn of her sleeve... That's when a certain question arose in your head:

“Random, but by chance, are you any good with using chopsticks?” You asked, wanting to keep the conversation going.

“Oh, for sure! I’m basically a pro at it,” she boasted, flipping her curly locks in a cartoonish manner.

“Sweet! I have two coupons for two different places. One for a craft store, and another for a sushi bar… only thing is that they both expire tomorrow,” You went on, hoping that she'd catch your drift without you having to state any specifics...

“Oh? Well it'd be a total bummer to let them go to waste,” she shrugged, hooking her arm in yours before tugging you along with her, “we better get going quick before they run out of sashimi… or yellow yarn…”

𝐊𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍 ── ❝ Can I come in please...? ❞

You heard a gentle voice call from behind your bedroom door, face buried into the largest pillow you could find given the sob-fest you had earlier…

“The door’s unlocked,” you sniffled, turning over on your bed to face her as she peaked from behind the door, her bright smile not even fading at the sight of you.

“I brought some heartwarming treats and DVD’s!” She began, voice just as pleasant as it always was. Haerin made her way to sit beside you on the bed, opening one of your favorite candy bars and handing it to you.

“How’d y’know I was upset?” You asked before taking a bite of the candy, chuckling a bit at the way she watched you so intently while doing so.

“I didn’t,” she went on plainly, “… I already wanted to surprise you today and just got lucky that it ended up being at a time where you needed it most…”

“Awww,” you pouted, dropping the candy bar to pull her into a hug, “you’re literally the best friend I could ask for, Haerin… thank you for coming to see me…”

“Of course,” she whispered, mind lingering on the word friend for a moment, even though she was certain you meant something a little more than that…

“So,” she began again, breaking from the contact and reaching for the TV remote, “Wanna rewatch Mean Girls or Clueless first?”

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐘𝐄𝐈𝐍 ── ❝ Can I touch your hair? ❞

You asked the question for one reason: You were bored out of your mind from waiting at the bus stop, and playing with Hyein’s hair seemed like a fun way to pass the time…

“Oh, sure!” She chirped, immediately straightening her posture on the park bench as you scooted closer to where she sat, taking her wavy locks into your grasp.

Hyein’s round eyes wandered to the sparkly pink Juicy Couture purse you wore over your shoulder, compelling her to ask, “What’s in the bag?”

“Oh- just some barrette’s and hair clips I got from Claire’s yesterday,” you replied, pausing to click open your purse and show her the different kinds, “Thought you might be interested in some extra bling, so…”

“You know me far too well then, ____,” she smiled, scanning each package with her eyes before suggesting that you decide which hair-clip style she would wear, and vice versa.

You let out a simple “Okay” at her offer, reaching for the pack of silver shooting stars for her hair while she held the pack of butterfly clips beside your face, a satisfied look spreading across her features.

“These are gonna look gorgeous on you,” Hyein smiled, right before opening the pack of butterflies clips and popping a few different colored ones in her palm, “This is too fun already, hehe… I can decorate your hair first, right?…”

ʚ 𝐀𝒰𝐓ᕼ𝕆𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝕆T𝐸: I decided to explore the wlw genre for a change, and I have no one other than @jwanniie to thank for inspiring me to experiment on my platform in such a way through her works... I've always wanted to write for my fav GG's just like how I write for my fav BG's, but simply never found the courage to until now ~ Hopefully you guys enjoyed what I came up with! ɞ

❖ 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ( 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 💌 ) @squoxle @nikisvanillaccola @wonbinisbabygurl @ashgonedash @yourmomscuntis2tighy @addictedtohobi @ot7sevenlvr -> if GG content isn’t your thing, pls lmk and I’ll refrain from tagging you in such posts moving forward :3

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communicationthroughlyrics · 1 day

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There's No Hope In Endless Winter

Natasha has been gone on a long mission, so when she comes home, she just wants to spend time with you. But, you have news for her.

A/N: Yeahhhh, sorry bout this one- I also couldn't seem to come up with a decent summary sooooo...yeah. It's angsty and not really happy at all. Just kinda sad, all the way around.

TW: Panic/Anxiety, Depression, Reader has a medical emergency

Word Count: 4.5k

With a ghost-like silence, Natasha Romanoff floated into the bedroom of her shared New York apartment. It had been three long months since she had been on her no-contact S.H.I.E.L.D. mission, jetting her across the world to track and assassinate a major drug kingpin after infiltrating his cartel for vital information. She could hardly contain her excitement to see your face again, to feel the warmth of your body in her arms. The room was pitch-black, but even in the darkness, she could make out the familiar outline of their bed. You must have fallen asleep hours ago, presumably exhausted from your work as a personal trainer.

Natasha's muscles ached from the long flight and the countless hours of physical exertion during her mission. She stripped off her clothes, revealing her toned, scarred body, and crawled under the sheets. The bed's softness and the sheets' coolness felt like heaven after so many nights spent on hard mattresses, back seats, and cold floors. She snuggled in close to you, breathing in your familiar scent, and let out a contented sigh. Nat buried her face into the crook of your neck, causing you to sigh. Even though she knew that you were fast asleep, she couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and belonging in their shared space.

Natasha being gone always sent your emotions in a spiral. The anxiety and panic that she felt on any given day only worsened as time went on. Your constant worry for your wife would typically result in you holed up in Natasha's room at the compound, drowning yourself in Natasha's clothes, burrowed into her bed until she returned. It was actions like this that had Wanda and Clint checking in with you regularly when they weren't on their missions.

It was one of these check-ins that finally forced a hand for you. Wanda had stopped by, worried because you, her best friend hadn't been responding to her messages or calls. When Wanda went to your gym, the manager said you had been canceling all your appointments. This was highly unlike you, as you had been known as a reliable, punctual trainer. Wanda's attention was piqued.

"What do you mean, she's been canceling?" an incredulous tone came from the brunette.

"She hasn't shown up for any of her clients for the last week and a half," the manager said, shrugging helplessly. "I've tried calling her, but she never picks up. She left a note on her desk, and has called all her clients herself, telling them they can schedule with someone else."

"When was her last session?" Wanda probed further.

"Monday," he stated flatly, as he was walking around wiping down some of the equipment. "She was training with one of her regulars and passed out. We sent her home after she refused to take an ambulance. We asked her to stay home for a couple of days, rest, and relax. Apparently, she needed more than that."

This concerned Wanda, so she decided to check on you. She thought you had been doing better in Natasha's absences. As she approached your room, she could hear the soft snores coming from within. Taking a deep breath, she carefully opened the door, revealing you curled up in a ball on the bed. Your usually neat hair was a messy tangle around your head, and you were wearing one of Natasha's oversized shirts. Seeing her friend like this tugged at Wanda's heartstrings.

"Hey Y/N," she whispered, stepping into the room. "You okay?"

You let out a soft groan but didn't stir. Wanda walked over to the bed and gently nudged you awake. "Hey, wakey, wakey. It's me, Wanda. Honey, what's wrong?"

You mumbled something incoherent before burying your face into the pillow, trying to block out the world. "I can't do this anymore," you finally manage to get out. "I miss her so much."

Wanda sighed, rubbing your back in a comforting manner.

"I know you miss her, Y/N. We all do. But you can't let it consume you like this. You're not being fair to yourself. Natasha would want you to take care of yourself and be strong." Her voice was soft and gentle. "Look at you. You're not eating right, you're not sleeping, and you're not working out. You're not the Y/N I know."

You sighed, looking out the window to avoid the green orbs that were looking straight back at you. "I know," you curl into yourself further. "But, I need her here Wands. I'm scared and alone."

Wanda frowns, sitting down on the bed next to you. "You're not alone, Y/N. You've got all of us. We're your family. We're here for you." She reaches over and takes your hand, squeezing it. "You know that, right?"

You look over at her, your expression softening slightly. "Yeah, I know." You take a deep breath and wipe your eyes.

"Now, Y/N. When was the last time you ate more than a protein bar or a banana?" Wanda asked, looking at the fruit peels in the trash and the wrappers on your nightstand. "Your boss told me you fainted at work."

You shrugged, "I'm not sure. A few days ago?"

Wanda rolled her eyes. "Okay, that's it. You're coming with me. We're going out to eat. You can't keep living off of protein bars and bananas. You need real food." She helped you up off the bed and led you to the bathroom to wash your face.

"Wanda?"

"Yes?"

"I don't feel right."

"You're not feeling right because you're not eating right," Wanda replied, giving you a reassuring pat on the back. "Come on, let's get some food and then we can talk about how you're going to get back on track with your training. You're better than this, Y/N." She stops when she realizes that you're standing firm in the middle of your room. You look pale, eyes sunken in, and like you haven't been sleeping.

"That's not what I mean, Wanda."

You took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. "I feel...off. Not just because I'm not eating right. Something...else. It's like..." You trailed off, struggling to find the words.

Wanda placed a hand on your shoulder, her expression concerned. "Y/N, do you think you might be coming down with something? You seem to be feeling under the weather lately."

"Maybe," you mumble, rubbing your arm. "I don't know. It's just...weird."

"Tell me what your symptoms are, Y/N."

You sigh, trying to wrap your head around how you've been feeling of late. "It started when I was in the middle of a training session..." you started.

Wanda's eyes widened, "What? You kept going even when you didn't feel right?" You nodded, and her frown deepened. She led you back to the bed, so you could sit down.

"Do you have a fever?" she asked, feeling your forehead. You shook your head. "What about chills?" She glanced at the air conditioner, which was blowing cool air. "No, I guess not."

"Not a fever, but I've been getting terrible night sweats."

Wanda raised an eyebrow, "Night sweats? That's not good."

You shrugged, feeling uncomfortable under her gaze. "I'm just not myself, Wanda. I don't know what's wrong with me."

"What else have you been feeling?" she asked further, rubbing your knee comfortingly.

"My muscles ache all the time. And I'm just...tired." You yawned, rubbing your eyes. "Even when I sleep, I don't feel rested."

Wanda frowned. "This doesn't sound good. You should probably go see a doctor." She paused, looking at you with concern.

"I'm scared, Wanda."

Wanda took your hand and squeezed it. "Hun, it's just a doctor's visit. It'll be ok." You shook your head, just wanting this conversation to be over. "You probably just caught a bug or something."

The next day, the two of you made your way to the doctor's office, where Wanda sat with you through the entire vitals process. The nurse turned to you after gathering some information and asked you if you wanted Wanda there during the following line of questioning.

"No, that's fine," you mumbled, feeling a little embarrassed.

"So, what brings you in today? Your notes on the check-in sheet are pretty vague."

You took a deep breath, not sure where to begin. "Well, I've been feeling really tired lately. Like I can't sleep, even when I want to. And my muscles ache all the time. It's been going on for a few weeks now, and it's starting to get to me." the nurse jotted some things down, before allowing you to continue.

"I have been feeling sluggish and sore for 2-3 weeks, I just thought it was me pushing my workouts too far at first."

The nurse nodded sympathetically and continued her questions. "Have you noticed any changes in your appetite or weight?" You hesitated for a moment, not wanting to admit to Wanda that you hadn't been eating right. "Well, I haven't been eating as much as I should have, but I don't think I've lost or gained any weight." The nurse made some more notes. "Well, Y/N, it does look like you have lost some weight since your last visit 4 months ago. Have you been experiencing any night sweats or fevers?"

You shook your head. "Just the sweats, but not as bad as they used to be." You glanced over at Wanda, who was looking at you with concern. "I've been feeling...off, you know? Just not myself."

"Is there anything else?"

"Yes," you stutter. Wanda's eyes shot up at this admission. "I was helping one of my clients use the pulldown machine, demonstrating what I wanted them to do." the nurse continued to take notes, indicating for you to go on. Wanda shifted in her seat as you continued. "I felt a grab in my underarm like I was using the machine wrong," you sighed. "The pain continued throughout the day, and wouldn't go away. I didn't think anything of it till I got home."

"And when you got home, what happened?" the nurse prompted.

"Well, I felt sore all over, but especially my chest, for some reason," you started, Wanda covering her mouth as you recounted what happened. "So, while I took a bath to try and loosen up, I checked both armpits to see if there was something I was missing. I kinda probed and kneaded at my underarms, and felt a large bump, here." you lifted your arm, indicating where you felt the lump.

"And what did the lump feel like?" the nurse asked, scribbling more notes.

"It wasn't hard or anything, but it was...different," you said, struggling to find the words. "It just didn't feel like the rest of my skin." You glanced at Wanda, who was looking at you with a mixture of shock and concern. "At first, I thought it was just a knot or something, but it's been there for days now, and it's not going away."

The nurse nodded, making some more notes. "I see. Well, I'm going to have the doctor look at this when we're done with your vitals. Just give me a call if there's anything else you think might be important."

As the nurse left the room, Wanda grabbed your hand and squeezed it tightly. "Oh, hun, I'm so sorry. I had no idea this was going on. Why didn't you call me?"

"I didn't want to worry you," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "I thought it was just a knot or something. I didn't realize..." Your voice trailed off as you fought back tears.

The examination room door opened, and the doctor came in. "Y/N, hello," he said, offering his hand. "I understand you've been experiencing some discomfort. Why don't you tell me about it, and we'll see what we can do."

You related the story again, feeling embarrassed but relieved to have someone who seemed to take you seriously. The doctor listened carefully, nodding along, and then asked to feel the lump in your armpit. "Hmm...I'm going to need to get some tests done to determine what's going on here. In the meantime, I want you to rest as much as possible, and avoid any strenuous activity until we know more. Okay?"

"Okay," you replied, feeling a mix of relief and fear.

The doctor gave you a reassuring smile. "We'll get to the bottom of this, don't worry. We're running your blood and plasma panels, and took a sample from the lump in your underarm." He stood, reaching out his cold hand for you to shake. "We'll run these preliminary tests, and call you with the results."

You nodded, still feeling a little uneasy. As you stood, the weight of the situation began to settle heavily in your chest. You glanced over at Wanda, who was rubbing her eyes with the heels of her palms, clearly upset. "Are you okay?" you asked her.

"Honey, I should be asking you that," she offered you a weak smile, helping you out of the doctor's chair.

As you made your way out of the clinic, Wanda wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close. "I'm going to be right here with you, okay? No matter what it is." You nodded, grateful for her support.

"Wanda?"

"Yeah, sweetie?"

"Is there really no way we can get a hold of Natasha?"

Wanda sighed, resting her head against yours. "I've been calling her all morning, but she hasn't answered. I even sent her a few texts, but when she goes no contact, that means no contact."

You nodded, understanding the unspoken rule. Even though you knew it was for her safety, it still hurt that you couldn't talk to her. You felt so alone like you were the only one going through this.

"I'm terrified, Wanda. I've never felt like this before."

Wanda hugged you tighter, her warmth offering some comfort. "I know, hon. I'm scared too. But we're going to get you through this. We'll find out what's wrong, and we'll fix it. You hear me?"

You nodded, forcing a small smile. "Yeah, I hear you. Thanks, Wanda."

The sun was starting to peek through the blinds when Natasha finally stirred. She pulled you in tighter, realizing you felt considerably thinner than she remembered. You were seemingly dead to the world, breathy snores coming from you as you tossed and turned. Natasha decided she would surprise you, so she quickly rose, kissing your forehead before running to the shower to clean up.

She knew she'd have to tread carefully when she emerged, but the anticipation of seeing your face light up was too much. As she dried her hair, she slipped on her tank top and shorts before padding over to the bed. You were still fast asleep, so she decided to head down to the kitchen, starting breakfast so you both could enjoy each other's company over a warm meal.

Coffee brewed, she laid out a spread of fruit, toast, and eggs. The scent of food wafting up the stairs drew you out of your slumber, unfortunately making your stomach churn. You wondered why Wanda was making you some food so early in the morning.

You padded into the kitchen, still half-asleep, and were greeted by the sight of Natasha, your Natasha, wearing nothing but a tank top and shorts, her hair still slightly damp from her shower. She smiled at you, a warmth spreading through your chest. "Good morning," she purred, leaning over to kiss your cheek. "I missed you, babe."

You returned her smile, albeit with an empty one. "Missed you too," you mumbled, reaching for the coffee pot. "Smells great." Natasha frowned at the lack of emotion from you, immediately becoming concerned.

She poured you a cup of coffee and set it in front of you, then sat down at the breakfast bar, watching you carefully. "Are you feeling okay, sweetheart? You don't look so well." You shrugged, not wanting to talk about it. "I'm just a little tired, that's all."

Natasha frowned, not quite convinced. "You're sure you don't want to tell me what's wrong? Maybe I can help." You looked up at her, feeling instantly guilty once you saw her expression.

"I'm sure it's nothing, really," You started. "I just...I had some tests done while you were gone."Her face softened as she reached across the counter to take your hand.

"What kind of tests, sweetheart?"

"I don't want to spring this on you right now, Nat. You just got home."

Natasha squeezed your hand gently. "You know you can tell me anything, babe. I'm here for you, through thick and thin." Her eyes pleaded with you to confide in her, and despite your best efforts to keep her out of the loop, you found yourself wanting to tell her everything.

"Okay," you finally said, taking a deep breath. "It's not something I want to talk about right now, but I will. Just...not today, okay?"

Natasha nodded, understanding that you needed time. "Okay, hun. Take your time. We can talk about it whenever you're ready. In the meantime, why don't we enjoy breakfast together? It's the least I can do while you're going through this."

"That's okay, Nat. I'm not very hungry. But you can have whatever."

She smiled, giving your hand a squeeze. "Are you sure? I made plenty."

You nodded, forcing a smile. "It looks great, though. Thanks, Nat." You worked your way slowly to the confines of your bedroom, stopping to look at your washed-out appearance. You were pale, your cheeks somewhat hallowed. The dark rings and bags under your eyes made you look like a member of the Addams family.

Natasha followed behind you, still in her tank top and shorts, concern etched into her features. "Do you want me to help you get ready for bed? Maybe take a nap with you?" she offered, her voice soft and gentle. You shook your head. "No, I just want to be alone for a bit. I'll be okay." She frowned, but nodded, knowing that these long missions were always rough for the both of you, and you often needed your own space. As you lay in bed, awaiting the call from your doctor, Natasha called Wanda.

"Hey Wands, it's me."

“Nat! Oh, my goodness it’s good to hear your voice, darling!” she started. “I bet Y/N is so glad to have you home.”

“Actually, Wanda, that’s why I’m calling.”

There was a slight pause on the other end of the line before Wanda replied, "Oh? Is everything alright?"

"Well, I wanted to check with you," Natasha began, taking a deep breath. "Y/N and I have been together for a long time, you know that. And we've been through our share of ups and downs. But something is going on right now that I feel she's not telling me, and I'm really worried about her."

There was a moment of silence on the line before Wanda spoke. "What makes you think that?" she asked, her voice gentle.

"I just know her," Natasha replied, her voice tight with worry. "She's not herself. She's distant, and I can tell she's not eating. It's like she's carrying a weight on her shoulders that I can't even begin to understand. I just want to help her, you know?"

Wanda was quiet for a moment, considering her words. "I understand where you're coming from, Natasha."

"I feel like there's a 'but' coming, Max."

"Because there is, Romanoff."

Natasha winced at the use of her last name. She knew Wanda could be annoying that way, but it still hurt sometimes. "I know Y/N doesn't want me to know or worry right now, but I need to help her. I'm her partner, her support. I can't just stand by and watch her suffer in silence."

There was a long pause on the line before Wanda finally spoke. "I understand that, Natasha. You're a good friend and a good wife. And I know you'll do whatever you can to help her through this." Her voice softened. "But I also want you to understand that this might not be the best time to push her. She's been through a lot, and she needs some time to process everything on her terms."

Natasha sighed, a deep pit forming in her stomach at the thought of what could be going on. "Wanda?" A silence followed before a hum indicated Natasha to continue. "What happened while I was gone?"

"Oh, you know," Wanda replied lightly, her tone belied by the worry in her voice. "The usual. Just the constant threat of nuclear war, a power-hungry megalomaniac with delusions of grandeur, and a team of highly skilled operatives trying to keep the world safe while balancing their personal lives."

"Wanda, that's not what I meant."

"I know, Nat. I'm just trying to make light of a very serious situation. Y/N's been keeping a lot of things bottled up. She needs time to process everything, and I think she's afraid that talking to you will make it all real. She needs you to be supportive, but she also needs her space."

There was another silence on the line before Natasha spoke. "I understand. I'll give her time, but I'm here for her whenever she's ready."

"That's all you can do, Natasha. That means a lot to her, I know it. And if there's anything I can do to help, please don't hesitate to ask."

"Thanks, Max."

Wanda's voice was soft, bidding Nher a good day. Natasha could hear the genuine concern behind it. She knew that Wanda would be there for her and Y/N, even if she wasn't always the most subtle about it. They were both so different, but they had been through so much together. They had become a family of sorts, even though they were all from different worlds.

Natasha took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. She couldn't help but feel a sense of helplessness, like she was floating in the dark, searching for a lifeline. But she knew that she had to be strong for Y/N, even when she felt like she was about to crumble herself. Setting her phone on the counter, she put away all the food before heading towards the living room, sitting on the sofa with a cup of coffee, contemplating what you could possibly need to tell her. After what felt like hours, she went to the bedroom, gently knocking on the door.

"Hun, do you mind if I come in?" Her voice was soft, almost a whisper. There was a pause, and then she heard the click of the door opening. Natasha stood in the doorway, taking in your eyes red and puffy from crying.

"I, uh... I was just about to take a nap. Do you want to join me?" You asked, your voice barely above a whisper. She walked over to the bed and sat down gently beside you.

"I would love to, sweetheart," she breathed deeply, reaching her arm around your shoulders. "But first, I need to know that you're okay." The statement makes your heart clench, knowing that you are worrying Natasha after such a long and strenuous mission when she should be relaxing and enjoying her time with you.

"I'm... I'm as okay as I can be, I guess," you mumble, your voice still hoarse from earlier sobs. "It's just... a lot, you know? A lot to process." Natasha nods, pulling you closer as she wraps both arms around you.

"Darling, what is a lot to process?" Natasha's voice was soft, almost tentative, and you could feel her heart beating against your back as she held you close. You took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves before speaking. You were spinning your cell phone in your hands, nervous to tell your wife what happened while she was gone.

"Let me start at the beginning, Nat." you lay your head on Natasha's shoulder, ready to detail all that led up to your phone call this morning.

As you speak, Natasha holds you close, occasionally kissing the top of your head or running her fingers through your hair to offer comfort. She listens intently, her expression shifting between surprise, confusion, concern, and anger as you recount the events that unfolded while she was gone.

When you finish, there's a long silence as Natasha processes the information. You can feel her heart racing in her chest, and she seems to be struggling to find the right words. Finally, she takes a deep breath and says, "Oh, sweetheart." Her voice is full of empathy and understanding, but there's also a note of worry. "What did the doctors say was the result of your tests?"

Your eyes tear up, as your lip quivers. You get up and go to stand across the room from your wife, afraid to let her see you so vulnerable, so weak. "I have breast cancer, Nat."

Natasha's face falls, her eyes widening in disbelief. "Oh, Y/N," she whispers, taking a step toward you. "My baby, I'm so sorry I wasn't here for you." Tears begin to stream down her face, and she reaches out to hold you, but you flinch, taking another step back. "I'm here for you. No matter what. I love you, and I'm here to help you through this. In sickness and in health, remember?"

You shake your head, feeling overwhelmed. "I just... I don't know how to do this. How am I supposed to fight this? And what about us? What about our future?" Your voice breaks on the last word, and you sink down to the floor, buried in a ball, unable to hold back the sobs that have been building inside you since you first heard the news.

Natasha rushed to your side, quickly scooping up your body and holding you impossibly close. "Honey, our future isn't in question. I'm not going to let anything happen to you," she whispered into your hairline, kissing it.

"But, what happens if you get sent out on a mission again? What happens if you don't come back to me, Natasha? I can't do this without you."

Natasha's arms tightened around you, holding you as close as she possibly could. "Y/N, you are my whole world. I would never abandon you. You are my priority, now more than ever. We will get through this together. No matter what. I promise." She paused, taking a deep breath, trying to steady her voice. "I know it's scary right now, but we'll find the best doctors, we'll get the best treatment. And we'll fight this together. You're stronger than you know, and I'm right here by your side, supporting you every step of the way."

You sniffled, wiping your nose on your sleeve, and leaned into her embrace. "I'm scared, Natasha. I don't want to leave you. I don't want to leave us."

Natasha pressed her lips to your forehead, her breath warm against your skin. "I know it's hard, baby. But you're not going to leave me. You're going to fight this, and we're going to fight it together. We're going to beat it, okay? She held you there for what felt like an eternity, rocking you gently back and forth. "We're going to fight this together, you and me. We're going to be strong, and we're going to get through this. I promise you, Y/N.“

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f0point5 · 3 days

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The new fic was wonderful, I cant get enough of Em and Max I hope you never stop writing about them! That being said, I'm curious, would you write about one (or all four!) Times Max had to run around a city looking for Emelia?

Okay I’m sorry about how this turned out 🫣 I know in the fic it referenced that Max didn’t know there was a problem and only found out once she left but I am taking some artistic license with this being one of the four times! Don’t hate me 🫠

I did actually start a different one featuring Emilia’s dad so I may finish that one and we will get a funnier/more on brand instance of Emilia running away but…I hope you enjoy this one in the meantime!

✨Set in September 2021✨

They nicknamed her “The Bolter”

Max watches the sunrise in total, deafening silence. He thinks at some point he gets up to feed the cats. He thinks, but he isn’t sure. He’s so tired. His eyes are watering. It’s not tears. He can’t sleep. He wants to. He doesn’t want to. It doesn’t matter if he wants to, he can’t. He can’t sleep knowing you’re not home. He can’t sleep not knowing you’re safe.

He looks at his phone again. He has it on loud and on vibrate but he still checks. Still hopes.

Daniel: Did you hear from her?

Lando: She’s not answering me sorry

Clara Albizzi: You fucked up

That last one makes me feel sick. He did fuck up. He knew the second he’d said it. The way your face just fell and you couldn’t look at him. The way your shoulders hunched over.

You’re the reason she’s not here!

You hadn’t even packed a bag. Hadn’t even taken keys for a car. You’d just picked up the shoes that were lying in the hallway and left.

And he’d let you.

It had taken everything in him to stand still and let you leave, even as the fear set in. Fear that smelled like freshly cut grass and petrol. Fear that felt like crisp night air. Fear that looked like headlights in the dark.

The restraint had only last a few minutes.

You had blocked him, of course. So he’d called your friends. He’d ended up calling half of Monaco including more drivers than he ever spoke to regularly. Everyone denied hearing from you. He’d actually driven to Daniel’s to confirm his story that he wasn’t home. Max wondered more than once if you’d earned more loyalty from his colleagues than he had. Even if one of them was lying to him, at least you were safe.

But he couldn’t take the chance that you really hadn’t ended up at someone’s place. You didn’t have you bag with you, or even comfortable shoes. You couldn’t pay for a cab. It was that thought that had sent him to the Hotel de Paris. It was your favourite hotel in town, you even checked in for staycations sometimes. They would have your information, so you wouldn’t even need a credit card. The receptionist had refused to tell him if you were staying there - illegal, apparently - but something about his appearance must have incurred her sympathy, because she’d said that they hadn’t had any unexpected guests.

That had sent him to Sass Café. A long shot, because you didn’t usually self medicate alone, but he’d tried anyway. Fifty times he thought he’d seen you across the room as he’d weaved his way through the hoards of people. Normally he could spot you anywhere but when all he wanted was to see you he’d seen you everywhere.

By the time he’d got home, some time in the wee hours, Max could feel himself starting to shut down. As he’d called your name to no response and checked your room to find it empty, he could feel himself starting to get cold. He’d sat down on the couch, intending to think about what he was going to do next, but the thoughts had started to get away from him. The memories of the last twelve hours began to fold in on themselves, becoming smaller and squarer and so too did the feelings. The anger, the frustration, the panic, the disappointment, it all got more manageable, packing itself away in the corner in his mind that Max had so often found himself hiding in.

Even the fear had gone. The fear had gone somewhere around 5.30 am, when the darkness started to wane. As he sat on the couch and watched the sky go from black to blue to the colour of the dress you wore to Luka’s christening, his leg stopped shaking, his fists unclenched, and the tightness in his chest disappeared.

Finally, emotions had given way to a familiar and encompassing emptiness. Max just felt numb.

You’re the reason she’s not here!

What had he even been so angry about? He could almost laugh at himself. He hadn’t been angry. He’d been embarrassed. You’d told him you’d found underwear that wasn’t yours in the washing machine and he’d been so fucking embarrassed. And then he’d thought, what did he have to embarrassed about, and he decided in a split second it must be because you were judging him, and who were you to judge him when you were the reason he was fucking random girls in the first place. His relationship had ended because of you.

You’re the reason she’s not here!

Except you weren’t the reason. Not really. It had been Max’s choice and he knew that. Max needed you more than he’d wanted her and he had never once regretted that choice, although wherever you were, you probably thought he did.

He almost wishes he could feel all of it. Whatever it is that’s been forced under the surface because he can’t deal with it. He can’t feel anything. His eyes are sore and unfocused and they sting.

He drags a hand over his face. He should do something. Get flowers, or call the police, or…anything. But he doesn’t. His limbs don’t move. He just sits there…like he’s waiting for someone to pick him up.

You’ve got to come back.

Don’t worry, Max. They always come back. You’ll apologise. You’ll do better next time.

His eyes water again. This time it might be tears.

Somewhere behind him, one of the cats meows. Maybe he didn’t feed them after all.

“Max?”

At the sound of your voice, Max’s head turns so fast his neck hurts. He blinks furiously at the sight of you. For a second he thinks he’s imagining you.

“I brought strudel,” you say, holding up a small folded pastry box.

Max gets up before his he tells himself to. He wants to pull you into his arms, the urge to do it is the only thing he’s felt in hours, but stays still. You’re back, but that doesn’t mean he’s forgiven.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” he says. His voice sounds hoarse.

“Not everywhere, clearly,” you say with a shrug.

“I went to Sass, Daniel’s, I called Lando, Alex, Clara, Zita,” he says, as if trying to prove that he’d tried. “I went to the hotel to see if you were there. I’ve been around the whole city all night, I didn’t sleep,”

“Oh.”

You look a little sheepish, almost guilty, as you make your way to the kitchen. Max follows, too far behind for his liking but he’s still too scared to get closer.

He sits on one side of the island and you stand on the other. He really takes in your appearance now. Hair up, no make up. Wearing a pyjama shirt. Where the fuck did you get pyjamas? He doesn’t care. His eyes run over you one more time. He might never let you out of his sight again.

“Don’t scare me like that,” Max admonishes, though there is no strength behind his words.

“Don’t piss me off like that,” you retort, and there’s strength behind yours.

The look you give him cuts like second place, and he looks away. He looks out to the balcony. The sky is cobalt now. What time is it?

“Did you mean it?” You whisper into the silence.

Max looks at you now. “No.”

“But-“

“No.” This time it’s an oath.

You shake your head as you open the pastry box. “Max, you obviously kind of meant it,” you say, turning to pick up two plates from the counter. “And I don’t blame you. I know I’m the reason you and-“

“You’re not the reason,” Max insists. “She’s the reason. She thought…she made that choice. And yeah, a part of me is still angry about it, and I cannot talk to her so I took it out on you. That wasn’t right and I’m sorry. I don’t know why I even- I’m sorry. It was my fault,”

Take responsibility. It’s your fault. You caused this to happen. If you don’t like the outcome then stop making people angry.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, quieter this time. Even to his own ear it sounds a little more desperate.

You stare at him, eyes narrow, like you’re trying to read him, and Max almost flinches under the scrutiny. Finally, your face softens, and you sigh. Something in your posture eases.

“Max, it’s okay,” you say gently. “People fight. I just felt like shit and you know how I get. You’re fight, I’m flight, remember? I was…anyway, it doesn’t matter. We’re okay, right?”

“Yeah,” Max says. “Of course.”

You don’t look like you believe him, but he’s telling the truth. If you’re okay, then he’s okay. If you’re there, then he’s okay. If you’re home then that’s where he wants to be.

You shuffle around the island with two plates of strudel, padding on bare feet towards the living room with Max in hot pursuit.

“Where did you go?” He asks, now noticing that not even your shorts are the ones you left in last night.

“The Maybourne,” you explain, settling on the corner of the couch, legs outstretched. “The concierge gave me some spa pjs,”

Max takes a seat next to you, further than normal but closer than he’s been to you in what feels like forever.

“I’ll pay you back for the room,” he says with a rueful smile.

“Yeah, I think you will,” you say haughtily, and Max forced himself to laugh. There must be something in his expression that tips you off, though, because your face falls. “I’m sorry I left,”

Please don’t ever do that again.

The words are on the tip of his tongue but he swallows them. He doesn’t ask. He can’t. He has no right to ask you that, because no one can ever promise not to leave and he can’t promise to be worth staying for.

“It’s not the first time,” Max says with a chuckle, nudging you with his elbow. “I’m used to it by now,”

You roll your eyes and turn on the tv, flipping through to find the Moto GP race as Max yawns. The buzz he felt at your return is wearing off and the exhaustion is creeping up on him. He doesn’t want to sleep yet, though. Not when you’re still in his periphery. It’s stupid, but some part of him needs to be consciously in your presence for a while.

“Max, you can go to bed, if you want. I know you didn’t sleep,”

“No,” he says, a bit too quickly. He imagines that he blushes when you notice. His cheeks certainly burn. “I’m just….I’m fine here.”

You reach over to pick up a pillow and lay it on your lap. “At least lie down,” you say, patting the pillow like you do to get one of the cats to sit on you. Max hesitates, but only for a moment, because he’d do just about anything you told him right now.

He settles his head on the pillow, eyes fixed on the tv. He used to do this with his mum, he remembers. The first night joke after being with his dad for months, she’d put on a movie and Max would lay his head in her lap while they watched. He doesn’t think he’s ever told you that.

Your hand running through his hair is like a little jolt of energy, somewhere above him he hears you giggle at the shiver that goes through him. You don’t stop, though, finger massaging his scalp. It quiets all of his nerve endings.

“You need a haircut,” you tell him. He knows what you’re doing, but he can’t bring himself to care. As long as it’s you doing it.

“Yeah,” Max agrees. It’s the last thing he says before he finally falls asleep.

#max Verstappen x reader

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sssammich · 2 days

Note

💚 true love's kiss / magic kiss / healed

i got you anon! sorry this took a while.

💚 true love's kiss / magic kiss / healed for supercorp*

ask meme

THIS ABSOLUTELY RAN AWAY FROM ME IM SO SORRY

---

"your true love is an alien."

well. there's certainly a lot to unpack from that, isn't there?

let's try.

first. this short and frumpy old lady with both hands on her hips is standing in front of her desk, somehow able to bypass security and her assistant, jess, who is mysteriously absent from her desk.

second. aliens aren't real. right? (right?)

third. the concept of true love is laughable. this is the 21st century and subscribing to these silly fairytale notions of true love is a lot of bullshit. let alone the idea that there is someone even out there for lena in that capacity. nevermind that apparently the only possible candidate for such a title is someone who isn't even human.

fourth. what does this even all mean? and why is she allowing her conference call to madrid get completely derailed by this woman who looks like she's more suited for the kitchen of a small hole in the wall italian restaurant and not the middle of a fortune 500 corporate office.

(all this to say that when lena eventually looks back at her life, she'll think that this is probably not even top five of the weirdest things to happen to her. it might just barely squeak into the top ten, though.)

still, she's faced with a strange predicament at this time. like how to get this lady out of her office.

yet instead of shooing this lady out, her mouth opens to say, "what's next, are you gonna tell me that magic is also real?"

the old lady in front of her just shrugs. "true love is magic, dearie. keep up, mm?"

when she opens her mouth again, she's just about to dismiss this lady, but it doesn't even matter because as soon as she blinks, she's alone.

something saves her.

no wait, it's someone. someone saves her.

her helicopter is crashing, the pilot is dead and dying beside her, and they're plummeting.

until, of course, they're not.

because someone is carrying her burning helicopter down on a hellipad and yanking the door out to check on them. lena's heart is in her throat and her lungs are somewhere in her stomach and she doesn't know if she's still even alive. but this someone is definitely hovering before she's holding lena securely.

"hi," the woman says, tentative, blue eyes and blonde hair and armsarmsarms and a red cape and--

something inside of lena's heart changes-transforms-evolves.

and then she passes the fuck out.

when she wakes, it's to dim lighting in a hospital room, the beeping of her heartrate monitor. distantly, she hears very little outside which means she's in a much more private wing of the hospital.

she sits up a little when a nurse comes in holding a tray.

except it's not a nurse at all. but the same lady from before.

"you."

"hello, dearie."

so many questions jump at the forefront of her mind. understandable and reasonable questions like hey lady what the fuck are you doing here? how did you get in? what do you want from me? are you here to kill me? stuff like that.

except the flashes of earlier appear in her mind and she recalls blonde blue red. she gasps.

the old lady smiles. "very good, dearie. they did say you were smarter than the others."

"what do you want from me?"

"nothing."

"then what are you doing here?" she asks, her voice gaining strength, her hands balling into fists by her side.

"just consider me an invested party."

before she can voice anything, the old lady places her cup of jello and plastic spoon by her thigh.

"take care, dearie. tell her i said hello, mm?"

lena's brows furrow, questions crowding her mind as she attempts to make sense of everything but failing to do so. the last she hears is a snap of fingers and she falls into a dreamless sleep.

when lena next wakes, she's back in her office. a week after the failed assassination attempt on her life.

the buzz of her intercom signals jess's voice. "miss luthor, your 2pm appointment is here. would you like me to let her in."

"go ahead."

she stands by her desk and brushes at her skirt just as the door opens to reveal a beautiful and bespectacled woman with her hair pulled in a ponytail.

blonde blue red.

lena's mouth dries and her insides do a somersault. she remembers the helicopter, the hospital, the old lady. the words your true love is an alien pinballing in her head (in her heart in her heart in her heart).

"hi, miss luthor. thanks for meeting with me."

lena looks at the offered hand. strong hands that have held her before. on a burning helicopter.

"of course..." she says, waiting for the woman to fill in the blanks.

"kara. kara danvers."

"well, kara, call me lena."

it takes five eternal seconds for them to let go of each other's clasped hands.

lena finds out about kara bit by bit. through interviews, through professional coffee meetings, through informal coffee meetings, through casual walks around downtown and the city parks, through casual lunches and dinners and desserts.

congregating around food so she holds a fork or a burger or an ice cream cone in her hand while she fights the urge to hold kara's hand.

lena learns about who kara is. a reporter by day (who moonlights as a superhero, lena muses, but kara doesn't share that information). an avid pop music lover and movie buff. a regular buff with hard cuts of muscles. arms arms arms arms--

kara is lame. a dork. goofy. foolish. beautiful. quiet. pensive. perceptive. deep. kind. loving. oh, so loving. so very loving.

kara is a hugger. a holder. an engulfer. an overwhelmer. she is the ocean and lena is the lone driftwood that crashes against waves. lena wants to be washed ashore only for the ocean to capture her once more because the ocean can't be denied.

she doesn't want to deny kara.

"lena?"

she blinks back to her present, washing away the cloud of her thoughts. right. they're at dinner. her fork held midair just before her mouth. they are in kara's apartment.

"yes, darling?"

kara smiles at her, though there is concern in her eyes. "where'd you go just now?"

she wants to say she went to the ocean but it's true either way when she offers her best smile to kara who mirrors it easily, breezily.

"i was just thinking that your cooking has gotten better."

kara ducks her head, her smile turning shy. "thanks, lena."

lena doesn't want to deny kara.

briefly, distantly, lena thinks that perhaps there's an inevitability to this moment.

this moment being:

kara is standing in front of her with her button down shirt opened to the fifth button where lena sees the S emblem over kara's chest.

"i wanted to tell you. f-for so long, i just--" she stops herself and takes a deep breath. "i'm sorry, lena."

lena is quiet. her vision unable to focus on any one thing. she looks at the blonde of her hair out of its regular ponytail. at the blue of kara's eyes. at the red of the symbol atop her chest.

blonde blue red.

"you're an alien." she announces it for the first time, despite the truth have sat carefully under her tongue for months.

kara swallows, then nods. "lena-"

what did that old lady say? she can't remember right now because her brain is buzzing, her heart is thumping, and the overwhelming urge to melt into kara is all she can think about.

she propels forward, pushing up on the tips of her toes, and kisses kara.

kara's arms are around her, hands holding her, body engulfing her.

soft lips slide against hers, press upon her, permanently transforming the chemistry of her body with the way that kara is now part of her.

when they break apart, she only grins at the dazed expression on kara's face.

"you...you like me too?"

she is beaming because of course she likes kara too, likes her more than like. so she answers by kissing kara again.

for their first date, kara takes her to a small italian hole-in-the-wall restaurant.

"this is my favorite italian spot in the city. in the state, actually. maybe even the country!" kara exclaims, excitedly talking and gesticulating but making sure that their hands stay interlaced with one another.

when they get there, they're seated right away, a young woman seating them in the back booth.

"hi, kara. table for 2?"

kara nods and lena watches. "you come here often?" she asks.

"yeah. i hit this place up at least a couple times a month. good thing my metabolism allows me to eat as much pasta as i want. the chef in the back makes it fresh every day."

amidst drinking wine and twirling their forks in their pasta, kara is leaning closer to her, the two of them sitting adjacent to each other, their elbows grazing each other on the corner.

when they finish, kara pays, insists on it, and asks if they can stop by the kitchen to pay compliments to the chef. with hands still intertwined, kara pushes the swinging door forward, and calls for chef nina.

lena watches as kara releases her hold of lena and approaches the short and frumpy old lady who only wipes her hands on a stained white apron before opening her arms up to receive kara's hug.

over kara's shoulder, the old lady winks at lena.

and lena?

well, she just laughs and laughs, kisses kara on the lips, and hugs the old lady.

#anonymous #replies #supercorp #fic ask meme #samficlet #this is so long it doesn't make sense im sorry but it's the only idea i have in my mind for it and it won't leave me alone

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