#so now i am trying to not have a complete break down of having to 1 spend time rehabbing and healing my left leg
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Emily fox, on the pitch, (sarcastically) “aw baby I’m sorry did that hurt”
I’m thinking enemies to flirts to lovers
frenemies II e.fox
"well good morning sunshine!" lotte laughed as you sat down beside her with a huff, dropping your bag to the ground and rummaging through it with a hum.
"woke up on the wrong side of the bed did we?" the girl teased pulling on her boots as you sighed. "you have no idea. this is going to be a long day!" you warned as the girl squeezed your shoulder sympathetically, the pair of you falling into conversation.
you smelled her before you saw her, the familiar waft of perfume hitting you before the sound of her laugh did, glancing up to see her walk in with alessia, chirpy grin on her face as usual.
"now now, play nice today even if you are grumpy!" lotte warned with a grin as you knocked your knee against hers with a playful roll of your eyes. "its not me whose the problem lots, you know that better than most." you quipped tugging your socks up as emily sat down across the room.
catching her eye yours rolled again as she sent you a wink, tuning back into her conversation with alessia. "i know you're both as bad as each other, she's been here for months now. wave the white flag! be the bigger person." lotte cautioned gently.
"so you admit she's not the bigger person? so she is in fact, the problem?" you grinned gleefully as your friend sighed at the take. "theres that selective hearing. you might want the long sleeve, we're set for rain!" lotte warned as you groaned quietly and unzipped your bag again.
though as you pulled out the top you quickly realised the number on it was not yours and pushed it hastily back in. "i'll survive." you brushed off her concerns as lotte only shrugged. "come on miss holland, off we go." you teased pulling her beanie down over her eyes and standing.
"not again with the tom holland reference! i don't look like him at all." lotte groaned in annoyance as you only grinned. "no i think its more like one of the robbers from home alone." your smile dropped at the familiar voice, lotte shoving emily with a playful glare before walking off with alessia.
"fox." you greeted shortly, the pair of you following after the girls in front who'd fallen into their own conversation. "as if the english weather isn't cold enough, that tones gonna give me hypothermia." the american shuddered rubbing at her arms as you rolled your eyes.
"oh come on! that was funny, you're allowed to laugh!" emily protested as you strode ahead, hurrying after you. "maybe at you, never with you." you warned, holding back a smile as your boots touched grass and you were able to hurry off to another group of girls.
your mood didn't improve during training, in fact it only got worse as indeed lotte was right and the skies opened up, the rain pouring down the last fifteen or so minutes of training.
given it was the last one before the game this weekend you didn't let it stop you, pushing through at the management teams instructions, breaking off into smaller teams for a round robin of games and a cool down.
all morning emily had been trying to get on your last nerve, her own patience wearing thin as you ignored her time and time again taking lottes advice to be the bigger person albeit the white flag.
but as the rain became near torrential and suddenly you were taken down to the ground a lot harder than necessary considering you'd already given up the ball your tolerance grated.
again and again your back hit the turf with only one culprint taking your legs out each time, your training top coated with mud and bib soggy against your chest as beth whipped a goal into the top corner to end the game and the whistles to finish training finally blew.
right as you'd completed the pass to her again your legs were swept out, wincing as your ass thumped into the ground but you clapped at beths goal none the less not wanting to be a bad teammate.
"aw baby i'm sorry, did that hurt?" a smirk hovered over you accompanied by an american accent and a very punchable face as the girl held out her hand to help you up.
with a glowering scowl sent up at her you smacked her hand away, climbing to your own feet and storming away, hearing her follow after you as the rest of the girls sprinted back into the building to shower and change before media.
but right as you went to step foot into the locker room a hand grabbed yours, tugging you away into one of the recovery rooms as the door closed with a click.
you sighed deeply at the grin which shone back at you, crossing your arms and glaring at her when she refused to move out of the way of the door.
"come on stop the frowning. i said i was sorry!" the american laughed stepping closer as you shook your head. "that doesn't mean i have to accept your apology." you reminded firmly, unwavering as she rolled her eyes.
"no. but only one of us is currently wearing something with a collar and ah...the rain has not been kind to you." emily tutted her hand moving to settle on your shoulder and you hissed as her thumb pressed into a deep red mark on your neck and you smacked it away.
with a groan you moved toward a mirror in the corner, turning your head left and right inspecting the marks you'd covered this morning before leaving, the rain indeed having washed most of the concealer off.
"this is your fault fox!" you advanced toward her as she only smiled, meeting you chest to chest. "yeah. so?" she challenged with a quirk of her eyebrow, your mouth opening and closing trying to find a comeback.
"exactly. you weren't saying anything last night when they appeared!" emily grinned cheekily as you only huffed, shoving her and making a beeline for the door before her hand grabbed yours and twirled you so you wound up chest to chest with her again.
"kind of hard to with your tongue down my throat." you scoffed only widening her beaming grin, her face near split in half as tattooed fingers traced the hickies with a feather light touch.
"let me take you to dinner tonight." now that did catch you off guard, stepping away from her with a frown. ever since she'd signed the american had wedged her way under your skin, the pair of you clashing heads and forever arguing, broken up and told off by your teammates.
though it never translated to the pitch, the two of you working seamlessly together down the right side much to everyones shock given how you seemed to loathe one another in every other sense.
but little did they know it was due to the release you two had figured out helped your contempt for one another, and for weeks now the two of you had been sneaking around one anothers beds, always gone by the morning and never more than that.
so you'd hardly expected these words to come out of her mouth.
"what?" you managed out in shock, emily stepping closer with a nod. "dinner. at a nice restaurant, the two of us. tonight ideally!" the defender explained, sticking by her words.
"but thats not-thats not what we do." you declined with a shake of your head as she shrugged unfazed by the rejection.
"well there has to be some middle ground in this enemies to lovers pipeline, you think you hate me but really you don't even know me. i'd like to change that, to change whatever this is." emily confessed confidently again catching you off guard.
when you didn't reply the girl only grinned, pulling off her spray jacket and handing it to you to put on to cover the marks on your neck.
"great, i'll pick you up at seven then baby. wear something...dry! oh and i want that jacket back, since someone else stole my long sleeve." she winked teasingly, and just like that she was gone.
#woso#woso community#emily fox#emily fox x reader#woso x reader#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso blurbs
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Zayne: Exclusive Tutorial.
Cross posted on AO3
This is just 2k words of Zayne getting a handjob from MC. Some light dom/sub implications. Explicit.
I start by lightly poking his face with the pool cue. His reaction is all I need to continue.
"This is inappropriate." He says, but he's smiling, and there's a glint in his eyes.
I smile back. "Yes... But I think you enjoy it, too." I poke his cheek again and then whack him in the chest with the cue. It's not the greatest implement, or the one I would normally use, but the way he takes in a sharp breath tells me everything I need to know: Zayne, apparently, likes being hit. I am more than willing to oblige.
"I shouldn't have taught you so much." He says, and it makes me laugh. The double entendre is so easily there that I smack him again, this time on the other side of his chest, and he can't seem to hold back the soft grunt he makes in reaction to it.
"What? That you like being at my mercy?" I respond, and push his chin upwards with the pool cue, forcing him to lay down further on the table. He looks down between us, and his ears are turning pink. "I already knew that."
"Are you going to let me up?" He asks, through his dilated pupils and the smug smirk on his face.
"No. I think I've had enough lessons today."
"I knew it. You don't care at all about learning how to play the game."
"All I really care about is learning how to get you so willing like you are now. What is it? Is it me holding a stick like this?"
He smiles, and tries to shift upwards onto his elbows, but I push the cue into the underside of his chin to stop him until he gives up, remaining in his place on the pool table. His Adams apple bobs, and his eyes shift downwards, to where my hand holds the cue.
"It is, isn't it?" I say, and my smile is heard as well as seen.
I hit him again in the chest, harder this time, just by a bit, and then hold the pool cue to his throat, threateningly. His breath catches, and his pupils go wide as he meets my eyes again.
I lean closer, and my smugness isn't hard to see. His hand comes to rest on my waist, though he doesn't even seem like he completely realizes that he's doing it.
Zayne grabs the other end of the cue, pushing it aside as he sits up, his thighs flexing where I stand between them. There's heat in his eyes, and it's growing. "I don't believe this is the proper place for this type of lesson." He says, and his voice has grown deeper. It's my turn to blush as he holds my waist tighter, and pulls me closer to him, the heat of his body almost suffocating as our lower halves press together. His erection is clearly felt as I look down at the crotch of his pants, like he's trying to tell me without words, "See this? See what you do to me?"
When I meet his eyes again I find that it's my turn to become breathless, entranced by his beauty, by the way his lips are barely parted, by the rise and fall of his chest, grown heavier.
"I've barely done anything to you and you're already so desperate for me, aren't you?" I murmur, the pool cue laying forgotten on the table when I reach up, placing my hands on his chest and then trailing one up to his tie, pulling it further. He follows me automatically, until our noses brush, and his eyes flutter shut, long lashes casting a shadow over his cheeks.
"I'm always desperate for you." He rumbles, and tilts his head to kiss me, gentle at first, but when I open my mouth and nip at his bottom lip, he kisses me harder, a soft sound of pleasure trapped in his throat. I respond in kind, curling one hand around the back of his neck to keep him where he is so I can lick into his mouth. Between us, I bring the other down to the fly of his trousers, rubbing my palm across the bulge that's beginning to strain against the zipper.
He groans into my mouth and when our feverish kiss breaks, he's dusted lightly pink, his lips wet and shining with my spit. It never ceases to amaze me how I can take apart Zayne so easily, how he melts against me. If he could, he would give me the entire world. He doesn't often say it, but the way his eyes shine when he looks at me is enough to know the depths of his devotion. Really, that's what makes my heart race more than anything, but the sight of him beneath me like this doesn't help.
I press down harder on his cock, hidden away still, and then let him go long enough to reach for his belt. Zayne makes a small sound, air whistling through his nose as he watches. "Please..." He says, and it's so soft, so full of want, that my core heats almost instantly, the force of my own sudden arousal shooting straight down my spine.
"Please what?" I respond, tugging on the end of his leather belt, forcing his hips to follow, and he raises them slightly from where he's sitting. "You'll have to be more specific." My smile is impish, and Zayne huffs out a small chuckle, his eyes flickering up to my own for a short moment.
"Please..." He holds my gaze, drawing me in. Like this, he's magnetic, and I don't think I'm capable of refusing him anything. "Touch me."
I feel myself clench, pulsing around nothing, and his smug expression grows, brows quirking as he catches some shift in my face that I'm not aware of.
Once his belt is open, I tug down his zipper, and can feel his cock jump through his black briefs, coming into contact with my knuckles. My other hand splays across his broad chest, the satin of his vest warm underneath my fingers.
"Aren't you worried someone will walk in?" My voice is soft.
"This is a private room." He answers, and tilts his head slightly, reaching up to tuck some of my hair back, his eyes following the movement of his touch, lingering on my jaw. I'm not sure if he can feel the tremors that go through me from that alone.
"Oh, so you planned this, then? And you said that I was acting inappropriate." I scoff, and he groans when I reach inside his underwear, running my fingers over the smooth skin just at the base of his cock. I can feel it twitch again, though I haven't properly touched it once. "You even shaved."
I pull him out and feel his thighs tense around me again, his breath catching as I wrap my hand around him, stroking once and squeezing my fingers around his tip.
"I didn't, hah, plan this... But I had a feeling... Mmm..." Zayne almost sags, his mouth dropping open as he looks down at himself, watching me stroke him languidly.
"It's a good thing you did get a private room, then... You're not very quiet, you know?" I smile, and increase the pace of my hand. His face is almost as red as the blushing tip of his cock, and he shifts on the pool table, holding himself up with one arm.
"Neither are you." He retorts, amused, and the way his head tilts back invites me to lean in and kiss his neck. His dick jumps twice when I graze my teeth along his pretty throat, threatening to bite down. "No marks, please... I have, mmm... work tomorrow."
"You always have work tomorrow." I complain, and bite softly anyway. If I wasn't this close to him, I don't think I'd have been able to hear the tiny whine that leaves him.
"Be that--" He's cut off when my teeth turn their attention to one of his pink ears, choking, and I get my first good moan from him for my efforts.
"Yeah, yeah, you have a reputation to uphold. I know." I finish for him and he moans again when I dig my thumb into the slit of his cock, letting go to bring it up to his mouth. Zayne's tongue darts out to lick away the precum gathered there, and I have to squeeze my legs together as I feel a sudden wetness between them, shocked at myself for how hot I find it to watch him taste himself so readily.
"Please, I want to be inside you, I won't..." Zayne grunts as I start to stroke him again, my movements growing faster, more insistent. "I won't, hah... Last much longer if you keep doing that."
I stop only long enough to reach back into his underwear, to fondle his balls, feeling how they tighten, drawing closer to his body. He's not lying, and I consider him for a moment, then pull once more on his tie. This time he really does whine, and his gaze pleads for mercy.
"And what if I want you to come from just my hand this time? You're really cute when you let me play with you like this."
"Fuck..." The curse is soft from his lips, and Zayne's hips shift, pushing up into my hand as I start to jerk him off again, rising to meet my downward strokes. "I'm close..." He warns, a long groan vibrating through his chest as he starts to chase his release in earnest. I lean in, and lick a long stripe up his throat.
Zayne's breath shudders as he exhales, and his body tenses, pushing up into my hand and I feel him pulse, his cock jumping once, twice, three times, and the sound he makes goes straight between my legs, his hand tight on my waist as he comes. His orgasm is long, his spend drips all over my fingers while I work him through it, squeezing and twisting the head of his cock while his body goes tense and jerks beneath me, his legs almost wrapping around me, holding me to him.
Zayne is not quiet, and I play with his cock until he lets out a whimper from overstimulation, grabbing my wrist to force me to stop my assault on his poor erection. His chest heaves, and he grimaces at the mess between us, his pristine silk waistcoat obviously stained by his own come, stark against the black fabric.
There's nowhere to wipe my hand, so I bring it up to my mouth and lick away the remnants of his release. Zayne's eyes go wide, pupils blown out as he watches me, making an almost surprised little grunt.
I grin at him and lean in for a soft kiss. "Did you know that you whimper when you come?" I ask against his lips, pulling him closer by his hips. His softening cock droops between us, and I admire for a moment the lewd image of him exposed, messy, his tie undone and his face red.
"I do not." Zayne scoffs, and I allow him to finally stand, backing off enough to let him tuck himself into his pants, though I mourn the sight.
"You do. You just did." I fold my arms, and he gives me a withering look.
"Well, when you come, you sound like a dying bear. Did you know that?" Zayne retorts, and I gasp in shocked horror, shoving him in the shoulder. He doesn't look apologetic, his lips curling into a smile, and he chuckles.
"You take that back right now!"
"No. Now do you have any interest in learning how to play pool, or would you like me to return the favor?"
"Hmm... I think I'd rather see you on your knees for me."
"Oh, would you?" His brows quirk, and he looks me up and down like he's trying to hold himself back. "I suppose I'd be willing to indulge you. We still have a half hour left before our reservation is up."
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AU details now I am very interested (you don’t have to)
HI ILLY THANK YOU FOR THE ASK I AM GLAD TO OBLIGE. I'M ASSUMING THIS IS ABOUT MY BUG NOIRE AU LET ME KNOW IF IT'S NOT
So basically. Cracks knuckles. The set-up of the AU is based nearly entirely on two concepts: 1. In the show, Bug Noire cannot stop grinning when she first unifies the Miraculous which I have capitalized on completely and taken to be a consequence of a power rush, and 2. Marinette in this scenario is the only one given both Miraculous, as Master Fu (or perhaps another, more strict order of guardians?) thought that entrusting the two most powerful Miraculous to multiple people was too dangerous.
(GIF taken from the Wiki!)
So in this AU, Mari is Paris' only magic defender, and she is SCARY. She has all the same incredible forward thinking that Ladybug does in canon, but without anyone to support her or protect her, she's gotten used to absolutely tanking damage and pressing on regardless with a wild air of enthusiasm. The unity of the two Miraculous of creation and destruction in this AU are nearly unbearable for mortals to handle; because they, unified, are Gimmi, representation of all of existence, wielding both at one causes interesting consequences.
(Screenshot also from the Wiki :3)
For Mari, that means she's full of a powerful joy and elation to be participating as an active agent of Existence (or Balance) in the universe, but she also revels in destruction and chaos, and every time she transforms she finds it harder to adjust to the more limited understanding that mortals possess. Tikki and Plagg are very worried about her, and Marinette is too, but under careful watch Mari cannot part with the Miraculous and instead presses on-- to her own detriment.
Alya and Adrien, on the other hand, have never met Mari. They're both newcomers to the school, but Marinette as a full-time hero never makes an appearance there. Instead, both Alya and Adrien befriend Nino who is their guiding light. He mitigates Alya's relentless drive to investigate akumas and vouches for Adrien's goodness to the class when Chloe puts it into question. The three grow close, but something's missing.
Alya meets Bug Noire when she's put herself into the battlefield, eager to film the mystery of the akuma and record it to the public on her BugBlog, since Noire herself seldom interacts with the public. Adrien, on the other hand, meets Bug Noire when he's being targeted by the akuma, and his inner desire to help recognizes that Noire, as wild and energetic as she is, seems to be struggling in a way that others don't see.
Noire, drunk on power but still fighting tooth and nail to retain a sense of her identity and her desire for companionship, is ecstatic to speak with Adrien and Alya but tries to keep them away from the fights as much as possible. Adrien and Alya, being themselves, of course don't let this stand and repeatedly put themselves in positions where Bug Noire would be a fool not to rely on them to help wear down an akuma, or evacuate the area, or break an object, or make shaky banter to. This grounds Bug Noire in a way she clings to, and she begins visiting Alya and Adrien not as a Miraculous user but as their friend.
In my head I feel like Alya and Adrien would convince Bug in the end to give them her Miraculous "to inspect" (can we see them!! They're so cool and you can use a break), and Marinette, Tikki, and Plagg would finally be able to speak to Alya and Adrien (and Nathalie and Alya's parents and Nino, presumably) to try to seek out the support they've been lacking after being out in this position. Perhaps this would be the catalyst for convincing the guardians that having multiple Miraculous active is a blessing rather than a needless risk?
Anyways that's all I've got for now!! Thank you for the ask Illy I am giving you a hug
#gray's soapbox#asks#illy 🌠#star emoji for you!!#solitary hero au#miraculous ladybug#bug noire#marinette dupain cheng#adrien agreste#alya cesaire#ml tikki#ml plagg#ml gimmi#So many image IDs dies to death#gray draws#long post
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a strange dream | barou
incl. barou 🎀 ( he would kill me )
warnings. completely sfw, fluff, school!au, fem reader, very much ooc, slow burn
an's. i missed him so much i had to revisit
BAROU probably hasnt got any interest in you before your relationship, not in a bad way but lets be honest—he's a soccer addict, he definitely wouldn't notice you until well, he did.
you're both sitting in math class (which did i mention had one hell of alot of students) and someone from the other side of the room asks to pass a note to you, rumor has it they've got a crush.
eventually the note ends up in the large hands of Barou Shouei and he's of course expected to pass it along to you but doesn't see anyone ahead of him expecting to receive it from him. he's confused—who the hell was yn ?
its his bad—he really wasnt to familiar with anything not soccer related.
he looked around, then finally decided to give the piece of paper back to the person he got it from—whoever that was.
you look at barou confused, so the paper was for you? you had originally gave it too him because you weren't sure if the people mumbling in the back of the classroom were really talking about you or not.
you opened your mouth to whisper-yell at him, but he wasn't paying attention to you anymore, his eyes trained on the teacher once again.
you uncrumpled the paper, trying to be as quiet as possible in the dead silence, but with no luck.
"yn?!"
shit
"yes miss?", you hid the paper under the desk, trying not to make eye contact with the 28 other students that had eyes on you.
"care to share with the class whats so important that you need to be passing notes in my class?"
fuck
reason #1 why you really hated this class, your math teacher was a fucking bitch.
'mean girl giggles' echoed throughout the room, barous eyes paying special attention to what you were about to do.
you dreaded the feeling of being forced to stand up in front of the entire class and read aloud whatever was written on the small note.
"get to it missy"
oh fuck off
you looked around the classroom trying to assess anyone who may have been distressed or embarrassed but with no luck, everyone seemed to be waiting on you.
weird...
"im serious yn. if you dont start reading in the next 10 seconds im going to—"
"no, no thats okay—i-im reading"
for whoever wrote me this, i am so sorry.
you cleared you throat in preparation for the humiliation you were about to face, curses be upon you miss peterson.
"hi, i think your really cute, we should go out sometime together, from..."
your heart stopped.
oh no this cant be right
"thats it."
"thats it?" the teacher probed, slowly making her way towards you.
"that it. i-it just says from your secret admirer after that nothing else".
your math teacher narrowed her eyes, looking closely at your expression—she didn't buy it.
dont breakeyecontactdont break eye contactdont breakeyecontactdontbreakeyecontactdontbreakeyecontact—
"really..."
"really!" you broke eye contact.
she pointed her nose upwards, probably as high as possible and began walking towards your desk.
"alright then i wanna see it, i need to have it confiscated"
"what?!, why?" oops you said that kinda loud. the class whom had previously lost interest when you finished reading turned back towards you and miss peterson now intrigued.
"well why not?! it was a distraction in class and now it needs to be taken away to make sure it wont be a distraction again...!"
but that doesn't make sense, if you care so much about us passing notes you should take our notebooks not the gosh dang note !
"but that doesn't make sense—" but you didn't get a chance to finish as the teacher viciously snatched the paper from you and spun around back towards her desk.
you sat down and burried your hands in your face, you couldn't watch this.
"oh this looks fun...says it's from barou shouei, not what i was expecting...not what i was expecting at all..."
fucking kill yourself, PLEASE
the class, which had previously been dormant erupted in a series of raging giggles and screams—shocked at the reveal of who the note was from.
a soccer player.
it was no secret in BLLK High that nobody—under any circumstance—was to mess with a soccer player. they had a bit of a reputation going on. even the nice ones.
" 'cuse me?" a commanding and masculine voice emerged from your left side and you turned as quickly as possible to the over 6 foot ( 182 cm ) tall man trying to explain yourself.
fuck, one day you were seriously gonna kill your math teacher.
"no, no no i promise it's not like that—i seriously don't know who made this i promise it wasn't from me and i know it wasn't from you—"
"you're yn ?" he cut you off smoothly, leaning back in his seat ever so slightly.
"huh?"
his knees were facing yours now. "you're yn right? been wondering who that was for the longest, guess i know now, cool."
"huh?"
okay now you were confused—about multiple things actually. #1, barou shouei, the man you'd been sitting next to for almost a full year now had yet to learn your name untill just now which is—gosh, just outrageous even for a soccer player
and #2 he wasn't toltally angry and going to kill you like everyone said he would have, should you make a fool of him?
no seriously someone explain what was happening.
you didnt get a chance to ponder on your thoughts much longer however, the bell rang loudly in your ear and soon everyone including yourself was making way for the door out the classroom.
what the fuck just happened, what the actual fuck just happened.
"heyy ! yn over here !" you didnt realize it but you apparently had auto-piloted your way all the way through lunch and was now being called over by people you've never talked to a day in your life—and you knew exactly what it would be about.
could this get any worse
you were about to find out. "yes...?" you asked, tray still in hand while you stood awakwardly by the trash can near the lunch table who called you over.
"soo—wait first sit down, we're friends we're friends, sit down first" one of the girls said, patting a seat next to herself eagerly.
you looked at the eyes on you and quickly made a decision to move.
there definitely here to ask me about him. it can't be that bad right? i think her name is ashley? i don't know maybe this'll be fun, maybe they'll be nice.
"so have you guys had sex?"
"what?! no—"
"have you guys even ever kissed yet?"
"no—"
"we used to talk you know", this one was from ashley, a pretty blonde haired girl who's blue eyes sparkled like marbles.
"really?"
she was attractive that for sure but and you could definitely see why some people would wanna date her but barou? not so much.
"really"
like in what world would some super macho super mysterious soccer guy get the hots for some popular pretty blonde girl? not to mention an obnoxious pretty blonde girl.
gosh i sound like a pick me right now, who knows maybe they really did talk
"didn't even know her name" barou said, cracking his neck from side to side.
"seriously man?" asked isagi, popping a fry in his mouth.
"dead serious"
this was the soccer table, a table where only the best of best players would sit for lunch, not that it was official or anything—but new students were warned not to go near The Table anyway.
"so you did ask yn to prom?"
"no bachira, i didn't ask her how many times to i have to say that, i barely know her anyways"
"untill today" kunigami confirmed.
"until today" barou repeated.
"would you though?" chigiri asked, he glanced over at your table—you were pretty that much was obvious but it was barou we're talking about, who knows what he thought of you.
"nah, couldn't."
"why not? shes not ugly" nagi questioned albeit a bit insensitively.
"shes not but..." he trailed off, stringing his eyes from nagi to you, she looks kinda...
"but what"
"i don't want her thinking we're dating after prom or somethin', gotta focus on the game."
"what if i did then, think she'd say yes?" it was reo speaking now who was now also looking at your table.
"nah, your uncanny resemblance to a donkey might turn her off"
The Table laughed as reo scowled at the other players, he didnt find it very funny.
"shut the fuck up shouei, i didn't hear her accepting your undying love now did i?"
"thats because i never really asked her dipshit"
"your point! still better than knowing your rejected as a default"
"is it though?" barou was almost smiling at the purple headed boy.
"oh really? watch me"
the table made boyish "ooo"-ing sounds and reo stood up confidently.
shouts erupted from the table, causing the whole cafeteria to turn towards the players, they payed them no mind however, only staring intently at where reo was walking.
"look, look, look! one if them is coming over here right now!"
"really?!"
you whipped your head around towards where the whole cafeteria's attention had been directed.
nononon, this cannot be happening. you seriously did not need another soccer players thinking you were some freak weirdo because someone else wanted to be messy!
"thats reo, he's super fucking rich, i heard he has a whole two backyards !"
"and an a theater room!"
great, and it was a rich snob kid too.
"does yn sit here?"
your table said nothing, even the loud ashley kept quiet while he was talking. everyones heads turned to you, waiting expectantly for you to say something.
"yeah thats me..." you said meekley.
reo smiled and curled his finger towards himself a few times, asking you to come to him.
this is so awakward
you stood up silently and walked over to where reo was. he didn't stop directing him towards you until you were standing right up against him, close enough to where he could grab your jaw and yank your ear towards his mouth.
"you're hot, go out with me"
your eyes bludged, and your heart accelerated way more than it should have. that was NOT what you were expecting.
reo let go of your face, his hands were in his pockets as he waited for your answer, he looked confident tou would say yes. and most people would, but this was a soccer player we were talking about—and this one specifically was known for being super rich, super smart and a super hoe. three things you couldn't be bothered to even try giving a chance with.
you glanced behind him trying to peer at the damage that had been done.
holy shit the whole fuking cafeteria is looking
"so?"
you were snapped back into reality as reo looked at you, still waiting for an answer. it was pretty obvious what you were going to say.
"no. im sorry but no, i hardly know you and you're really not my type, sorry."
your table made all types of noises as they watched the now humiliated boy bite a scowl and walk back too his table.
you quickly sat back down and watched as The Table made fun of reo's rejection. all the players were laughing but you were only looking at one.
"said i wasn't her type". The Table erupted in laughter, all the players except reo cackling like animals.
"fucking told you so, at least get to know the girl before you start trying to hit on her" isagi joked, slapping reo on the back repeatedly.
"no for real, dont know what made you think she would fall for you in a day, not all girls are so easy you know" kunigami shook his head.
"what did you say too her anyways?" nagi asked now curious as to what got him such a harsh rejection anyways.
"didn't say nothing, js asked her if she wanted to go out, said no, that's it." reo reiterated bitterly.
"knowing him it was probably something like 'youre hot, lets go out'" barou said offhandedly, distracted by the feeling of eyes on him.
"you could hear?" reo asked, now confused.
The Table went silent for a moment and isagi burst out laughing when he realized what reo had just said.
"so you did really say that?!"
the emmbarassment for reo only cotinued further but barou wasn't paying attention to that. the eyes from before were still on him.
it was you.
cute...
BAROU isnt really much of a romantic either, he hasn't got the headspace for it like he does for soccer, so of course—he's not seeking the love. the love is seeking him.
1 week later
you sat quietly in the school library studying like a madman for finals, it was just near the end of the school year and you were determined to get good marks on all of the subjects.
the library was the most perfect and quiet place to relax and work at the same time—without any distractions or problems to bother you from your job.
"excuse me?"
you glanced up to where the voice was coming from and your heart felt like it was going to explode.
it was none other than barou shouei in the flesh.
a whole week, a whole week you had managed to somewhat avoid his presence and pretty much ignore him during math ( your teacher denied you request to switch spots ) it was going fine untill—well, now.
"can i borrow your computer charger? mine just died and a left mine at home"
that was it?
you didn't really know what to expect from the man though. he was known to be pretty brutal on tbe field maybe you were assuming he'd be the same in real life.
although i guess i shouldn't think that considering how chill he was over the fake confession and all of that...
"oh yeah sure, I uh can let your borrow it no problem"
"thanks"
barou took your charger without another word and walked back over too his seat.
the racing in your heart was begining to subside, that wasn't so bad...
you shifted to get comfortable in your seat and began studying once again, right now where was i...
"excuse me?"
and just as you were getting comfortable. barou shoei again.
"yes?"
"sorry im back so soon but, could i sit here for a little bit. the outlet by my table isnt working for some reason" he said it in a polite tone but seemed eager for an answer, he was probably in a rush to get as much study time in before practice like most athletes were.
he really isnt as scary as i thought he'd be...
"yeah of course that's fine, it's better this way anyway, wont forget you had it in the first place ya know" you smiled moving your belongings over to make room for his.
"thanks"
barou set his things down and soon enough a static silence ensued over the both of you, not that you minded though. you still needed to get work done and it was better he wasn't attempting to make conversation with you. it is a bit awkward though...
"you color coded your pens"
the voice that emmited from the other side of the table almost made you forget who was there.
"i did, why?"
"nice, i did too"
barou didnt wait for an answer, but instead pulled out a all black pencil pouch to reveal all seven colors of the rainbow line up in order.
jeez, i just think it looks cool, his has all the pen hooks facing up too, ocd much?
that wasn't the main point though, what was more important was his sticker—on thst rested sturdy on his bag. "you watch graves anatomy too?"
he looked surprised when you mentioned the show, and nodded his head appropriately. "yeah, and im all caught up too, all 22 seasons and counting."
"holy hell, im only on season 12 how to even time for that—aren't you always having games and stuff, scince your on varsity and all..."
barou quirked an eyebrow, "mm you know your stuff—i make it work"
now it was your turn to make a face "you make it work...really, its that easy?"
no. the absurbant amount of school work i have is fucking killing me right now plus i've got sisters too take care of so no, it's definitely not easy
thats not what he said though.
"yup, real easy." he nodded his head and although you didn't buy it, it was hardly your place to nag. he didn't seem like someone you should nag.
"uh huh.." you shook your head up and down slow and repeatedly, "for sure, for sure"
"what you don't believe me?" barou moved his chair closer to yours, so close in fact you think your knees were touching, his arms bulged as he rested his hands on his head ; it was hot nice seeing him in a position that wasn't so straight .
"no i do, you seem really responsible im sure you're great at 'making it work' " you put a thumbs up.
gosh, could you be anymore awakward...
"oh im responsible ? you would know that im responsible?" barou questioned, leaning even closer on his arms towards you.
is he...flirting with me?
you laughed and covered your mouth with your hand leaning slightly away as he got closer.
"i mean yeah" you paused to swipe away the nonexistent dust from your eyes, you just couldn't hold the eye contact.
come on, dont get shy now yn.
"people talk, i guess."
"do they?"
"they do" you nodded your head firmly up and down, since it was the only thing you were sure you could do at the moment.
"mh"
mmh?!? the fuck does that mean ??
"so yn i wanna ask you a question" barou leaned back as he said this, finally returning to his normal position.
holy shit my heart was beating so fast, somebody get me on a stretcher and to the hospital NEOW, i am about to blow!
"yeah?"
barou stayed silent for a few moments, thinking deeply about what he was going to say.
"hypothetically..." he paused, staring directly at you.
"hypothetically..." you confirmed.
"hypothetically if someone, other than reo from the soccer team—just as an example lets say...yoichi ! remember hypothetically speaking—asked you out on a date what would your answer be?"
huh?
"what kind of question is that?"
"a hypothetical one" he said matter of factly.
"a hypothetical one, right, well if—hypothetically of course—i was asked out by isagi, om a date that is...i don't know...yeah? I guess i'd day yes?"
"really, you would?" he looked surprised and you suddenly felt alarmed, was that a bad thing or something??
"yeah? i mean no, not really—maybe not if he asked the way your friend did..."
"mhm"
??? again, what does that mean?
A moment of silence passed between the two of you and you tried and failed at going back to the work you were supposed to be doing in the first place.
"what about chigiri?" he said suddenly.
"chigiri? what do you me—"
"chigiri. pretty, has red hair, plays on varsity and is super fast? chigiri. would you say yes too him?"
"i mean, maybe, yeah he's definitely not ugly and i guess if i knew him well enough I would probably say yes—why are you asking me this?"
barou said nothing and suddenly, the strangest thing began to happen—he looked at you smiling—a large, uncanny smile resembling a creepypasta monster formed from on his face, your heart began to beat but for the wrong reasons.
"wake up yn" it was definitely barou's voice but it sounded far.
"huh?" you couldn't move, and you now realize you probably couldn't move for a while.
what...is happening...
"wake. up."
your head shot up from your arms, ans you looked around disorientedly.
oh...
up untill about the last 30 seconds you were a bit disappointed it had to end. your dream that is.
"yn", a voice—much deeper than you recall im your fantasies spoke out to you as you felt a tap on your shoulder.
it was barou. the real barou.
"i baroued your charged?" he said holding it out towards you. (an's. IM HALARIOUS LAMOSJKWIS)
"oh. right sorry, thanks." you took the cord from him. but he didn't leave, still looming over you in his tall stature he spoke again.
"uh, you got a little.." he pointed to the corner of his lip, scratching at it in expectation for you to do the same.
you did, softly at first, not really sure what is it he was implying but quickly realized what he meant after you felt a crusty dry substance still left from your unconscious.
oh..
oh !
"ive got drool on my face haven't i" he nodded his head, and you swore you saw grin appear on his face—a real one but he turned and walked away before you could make confirm.
"thanks for the charger yn, see ya later"
his back was facing you now, slowly getting smaller and smaller at he walked away from you.
seriously ! could i be anyless embarrassing for even a second!
im afraid not yn.
because according to barou, he thinks your little moments of embarrassment and humiliation were pretty damn cute.
BAROU is never scared. he hardly ever get worried, he's king and one of the best players in his school, he's top of his class always and struggles—never. so why? why was it now, over some so trivial that he was all thoes things he never gets all at once?
1 week later, in the classroom.
barou felt weird.
the truth is, he didnt need a partner for the social studies project. his teacher was allowing groups of two or singles all the same. his reasoning behind why he wanted a partner is what was scaring him.
after almost an entire year, barou realized that you not only were in his math class, but his social studies as well. and his history, and biology—even his orchestra ( he plays cello in case you were wondering ).
he realized that you were everywhere.
barou, for the first time was recognizing someome else, not on the team, not an adult, but a girl, he was acknowledging a girl, as more than nothing.
it was weird.
"yn."
you peered up at him, wide-eyed and adorable. "work with me on the project"
your eyes, (e/c) and beautiful, got impossibly larger.
"yeah—uh—sure we can"
he gave a thumbs up, and went back to his seat.
what am i doing?
"i dont know, maybe we can exchange numbers instead?"
"yeah thats better, since im hardly on social media anyways"
even though you've got so many followers..
"alright cool"
you and barou were in the library, again. instead of dreaming about his muscles however, you were watching them in real time move for your phone and yours the same.
there wasnt mych said after that, only short words to communicate what part of the project you both were supposed to work on, untill...
"yn?"
"yes" and once again, you were looking at him, wife eyed and adorable.
"i've got a question to ask you"
no way, did i fall asleep again?
you sucked in a breath, and pinched your cheeks, not paying any attention to the words that might come out of his mouth.
"ow!" nope, you were definitely awake.
barou raised an eyebrow and couldn't hold himself in. he burst out laughing and you we're glad the library waw empty, because in all his seriousness—barou's laugh was loud. like the sort of thing you'd been holding in for a while.
"what yn, afraid you're gonna fall asleep again?"
your cheeks heated up an intense amount.
"no..."
"you're funny you know, really funny"
"huh?!" you squeaked, shifting all over in your chair. "what does that mean"
barou leaned in close to your face, so close that your noses were touching.
"it means..." he tilted hid head sidewards, waiting for your permission.
"i think you're the stupidest most adorable person to exist..." you didn't move away.
and like a shock, barous lips were on yours so softly it made it feel very much like a dream, but it wasn't.
an's. i know this is not himmm, he wouldn't even look at you after a supposed fake letter i knooow, i couldn't think of a better way to force it ( i was lazy ) and he's cute let me live.
an's. i rushed the end i knoww, leave me alone. i like writing for personal enjoyment shhhhhh.
#fanfiction#anime#blue lock#skullgirl#bllk headcanons#bllk#bllk fluff#bllk imagines#bllk x reader#bllk x you#baroushoueiheadcannons#barou shoei x reader#barou fluff#barou x you#bllk barou#blue lock barou#barou shouei#barou x reader#barou bluelock#yn x canon#fluff#ooc post#blue lock x female reader#fem reader#female reader#fic#oneshot#suggestive#reo mikage
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little rant type shit about azzi and paiges current and kinda future media presences
i think azzis reposts are like her way of letting people know shes gonan be okay without having to be actually present and ibteractive on socials. she was literallt just comibg back from her drought/break/pause (wtvr u wanna call it) and likely wont post for a while because dawg camp and the draft content was like the most we’ve had from azzi in so long. i think shes probably doing alright considering the amount of support shes surrounded by and honestly she didnt really seem like in any hurry to suddenly become active like an instant unpause after not beibg active for so long, like i dont rlly think her being “on a break” was all that deep she was probably convinced to post but didnt really seriously care to upkeep not postibg in the first place so itd be practically no change in her lifestyle to go back to not posting i dont think she was like resisting the urge to post or anything. specifically now post-situation it might not be “i dont psot often but i sometines do wheneveb i feel like it” instead she might purposely stay away and actually jsut take time away from media focus for a little and we’ll get like a crumb once and a while.
and i think paige being active rn is a mix of moving on from the incident and also the fact that the season is over and shes back on media and does like beibg on it like for example on lives and stuff. i feel like shes trying to show that shes moving past it as well as not letting it effect or stop doing what she enjoys. i also think that if paige had gone media silent after what happened it mightve brought even more attention to it with people speculating the effects it had or twitter running wild as it always does. i think her vague-ish thanking for support tweet near when it happened was good because it further fueled people who had been covering the timeline and helped speed up efforts to get tweets taken down but didnt actively add crap tons of spotlight on it. plus her normally posting and tweeting helps spread around what people are focusing on when she appears or if shes mentioned and it js moves the crowd on. we also know shes been described as/has said about herself that shes the type to put on a strong front in stressing times so even if shes beibg active on media and seemingly doing alright she could be doing it for all the reasons i just mentioned about moving the public on (like damage control/reputation padding) and still be literallt depressed behind the scenes and js doing it bc she feels she has to. either way we have no way of knowing whats actually happening and we will probably never know, i can only guess abd assume just as much as everyone else, i could be insanely far off or completely spot on, even if it doesnt match how any of us assume or imagine her acting just remember that we literally do not know any of these people!
i hope things settle and we can see them together again i dont think the situation would have effected their relationship with eachother theyre like ride or die and its not like its their fault it happened. obviously no one wouldvt wanted it to happen but i like to think that behibd the scenes theyre supporting eachother or they could be givibg eachother space but all n all i dont see this being the reason they suddenly drop eachother and i have ful lconfidence theyll come out the other end still side by side.
if anyone has any thoughts or responses feel free to add on or share or if i left smth out or got smth wrong feel free to correct me bc its literallt 6:30 am rn and im suppsoed to be awake in less than 2 hours 🤣🥲
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Desperately trying to make sense of Alex's motivations in Season Two and you know, I do eventually have to wonder if maybe Alex wasn't actually lying in the majority of those tapes.
Like, we tend to assume that Alex's motivations have been a consistent throughline since the college years, but do we actually know that that's the case? Do we know for sure that Alex was acting in deliberate, calculated ways in 2006; or could it be that he's telling the Truth on those olds tapes when he says he's blacking out and can't remember what's happening to anyone? After all, if we're assuming that Season 2 Alex's motivations are the exact same as his motives in Season 3, then it doesn't make any sense at all that he spend months working with Jay to try to find Amy; Season 3 Alex would have attempted to kill Jay like, on sight just to get things over with as quickly as possible and contain the spread of contamination as best as he could.
But, maybe, if Alex really had been separated from Amy after the events of the 04-04-10 tape, and if he really doesn't know where she is, then maybe that could make things start to make more sense. Maybe he really had been watching Jay's channel, and seeing Jay start going through the same things he went through in college without things devolving into violence and disappearances, and wondered if things maybe could play out differently this time. Maybe he really did send that tape to Jay to ask him for help, maybe he really was just trying to find Amy.
But then, instead of actually being helpful, Jay makes it extremely clear that he's a lot more interested in stalking Alex than he is in finding Amy. Alex asked for help, and instead there's a bunch of masked dudes on Jay's heels that keep attacking him, Jay is breaking into his house, stealing his things, leading the Operator right to him all over again, keeps trying to get other people (namely: Jessica -- if Alex is being honest when he says that his call reassuring her that Amy had been found was an effort to make Sure she stayed away from everything that was happening) involved; and instead of anything getting better, instead of anyone finding Amy, things are just getting worse all over again.
It's not until after the incident at the tunnel that things seem to start rapidly devolving. Rather than a calculated attempt to finally follow through with his need to curb the spread of contamination, this is very clearly an outburst of rage and terror. Alex's "I told you not to follow me" line in conjunction with Jay speculating that Alex didn't know who that guy was, to me, pretty firmly seems to speak to Alex having mistaken that stranger for Jay. From his point of view, Alex knows that Jay and totheark know where he live, have broken in before, he suspects that Jay stole a key to make it easier to get into his house, and he's been followed on the daily for months -- Alex is sitting at the tunnel because he doesn't know where else he can go without being constantly surveilled, hunted, and assaulted. And instead of getting a moment by himself to breathe, Jay followed him out there all over again (it feels like Alex looks directly at the camera in Jay's footage of him from this day; he knew for a fact that Jay was there), and then to make matters worse now 'Jay' won't even keep his distance anymore.
So Alex lashes out. And it's not until afterwards that he looks down and finally recognizes that this wasn't Jay -- it was someone completely innocent. Things have finally reached the low point he was at in college all over again; maybe even worse this time. If Alex doesn't remember attacking anyone in college, but he was at least partially conscious of it this time, then things have reached an entirely new rock bottom, they've reached an absolute point of no return.
He has no idea what happened to Amy, and he's spent months trying to find her with no hint of where she could be; he doesn't know where Jay actually is or what additional trouble he could be causing at this point; he does know that now innocent people are getting caught in the crossfire (in regards to the stranger in the tunnel, and also Jessica now that Jay has her phone number, and the untold number of people Jay got involved when he started posting videos to the Marble Hornets channel); things are spiraling out of control and there's no one left to ask for help. The situation isn't getting better, it's getting worse; things aren't getting easier to handle, they're just getting more out of hand; the negative impact is spreading and who knows how much further it can still go?
So, Alex decides to go scorched earth. He disfigures the body with the rock either to hide evidence or to make sure the guy would actually stay dead and not just get back up to start his own cycle of contamination in a few years. He tries to give Jay one last chance to back off, and Jay instead admits he's been talking to Jessica, acts obstinate and lies about not having Alex's spare key, and then breaks into Alex's house a second time (minimum). If Alex doesn't stop him now, who will? Alex met with Jay planning to kill the others, and then himself, so he could put a stop to this once and for all and keep things from getting any worse than they already were.
Maybe it makes a lot more sense if, rather than being a strangely incomprehensible detour on what should have been a straight path, the events of Season Two were the breaking point that put Alex on that path to begin with.
#N posts stuff#idk!!! I've been thinking a lot lately about the tendency to take Characters at Face Value; when they tell us things we tend to#automatically believe them despite what evidence we might have to the contrary. & like when it comes to deciphering what#went down during the college film project it's mostly totheark that posits that Alex was Definitely Lying and Definitely Acting on Purpose#(even Jay is largely ambivalent - wondering which way it leans and basically saying it could go either way)#but. do we KNOW that they know that? Do we Know that they're Right when they claim that? Or are they just Assuming based off#of their own rage and animosity towards Alex due to what happened? Do we Know for Sure that Alex Was Lying in s1?#i don't know if we do!! And so without Knowing that for sure; how can we speak to Alex's motivations in season one OR season two?#now TO BE CLEAR: I am not saying this in an attempt to claim that Alex is somehow completely innocent of all guilt and that like.#Jay is the 'Real Antagonist' of the series - not at all my intention. this is just More of my usual 'look. Everyone in this series is#all kinds of Morally Grey; no recurring character in this series is free of guilt they ALL have unique fatal flaws & trends towards#antagonism that makes things worse and dooms them all' shtick - a la 'everyone Thinks they're doing the Right Thing but No One Is'#BUT i Am wondering if this Does help to like. clear up some of the ambiguity/uncertainty of Season Two - and even Season One - and#lets the series as a whole read a little bit clearer? idk i know that Jay does Claim to think that Alex was bullshitting him#the whole time & was Actually planning on tying up loose ends the whole time but AGAIN it doesn't make Sense he'd wait so long#idk - Am i making sense? does any of this track? i'm trying to figure it out; i am open to comments on the subject to help#i haven't rewatched season 3 yet today and so maybe there's stuff in there that contradicts this whole theory lmao but i'm taking a break#and just posting this anyway; we'll see what happens lol#marble hornets#mh lb
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the thing about dennis is that he is doomed to have to choose between a relationship with someone who doesn't know him, someone who doesn't love him, or someone who doesn't care about him.
#your guess who's who#wildcard thrown in there (random women)#ada speaks#i am indeed including both of my ships here#like being completely real here#he has hindered his relationships. but its to a point where i dont think he could ever break out of it on his own#and no one really cares enough to try to help#everyone who DOES know dennis still sees him as whatever persona he's crafted#and its to a point where if he is genuinely vulnerable with them#they see that and assume it's some sort of farce#he's trying to step on them. make them underestimate him. manipulate them in some way#or they'll see him as inhuman and emotionless or *deserving* of humiliation and take it as an opportunity to shame him#dennis is so. so fucking soft inside but he can't possibly hope to let the others see that now#not after this long#he's 47 years old. he's tired and lonely and sad and he's at a point where he does want to have genuine relationships#but how can you go about breaking down what you've spent years building#when all you have is a hammer and you know knocking out the supports means you'll be crushed under the rubble
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.
#im more than 90% sure i tore my acl in my 'good' knee#on Wednesday night before my surgery i went to the bathroom and came back#went to roll onto my bed i guess in a way that wasent good#i heard what i believe was a pop#no pain no loss of stability i could stand fine#i freaked out but had to tell myself it couldnt be because i would not be able to handle it#didnt tell anyone#i was in pain and on oxy and til sunday night and ibuprofen til yesterday night#so i didnt notice qnything until last night what i feel like is swelling#maybe small periods of light pain every now and then#so now i am trying to not have a complete break down of having to 1 spend time rehabbing and healing my left leg#while trying to not farther injure my right leg while having to use it while i rehab my left#i called my docs office but the lady on the phone said i have to make another appointment for another i jury#im going for my post op tomorrow so im going to tell him then and see what he says#most likely an mri and whatever else he says#i hope to god its not it but i am so sure i heard a pop#my life for the next year is going to be terrible
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i am going to explode someone with my brain so hard if I cant draw soon
#i mean in theory I COULD draw right now but like-#ive quite literally b33n writing all day#only fell asl33p once !!! i think#another reason why i could draw in theory is to take a break from writing but like nuh uh#for context im writing a fanventure btw#its also WAY too fast paced so im tryna figure out how to slow it down#like why do i have??? 4 characters introduced by page 65 im on the 4th character right now#im trying to use vast error as a pacing reference but the situations im writing are like completely different#the intro is like pretty similar to arcjecs introduction so that might be a problem#but i am actually not about to rewrite anything for the hundreth time#ok i n33d to like- not ramble in tags holy shit
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— op81, cs55, cl16, ls2
a/n: spent so long on the graphic 💀
yourinsta
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yourinsta you’re my og 🫶
landonorris just og? 😔
username I swear if oscar gives us nothinggg
username MY BABY IS SHY OKAY?
username GOOD DAY TO BE A LOGAN SARGEANT FAN 🦅🦅🦅🦅
username I could only pray the Spanish flag is for Fernando ��
— oscar piastri
Nervously sipping on his emotional support orange juice. Maybe too much nervous sipping.
“So, what’s your type?”
“My girlfriend?”
“Tell her she’s mine too.”
“WOw, will do.”
Cheeks turning red, munching on the fries like a little chipmunk he is.
“I mean– I have three sisters so…”
“That’s a green flag.”
“Thank you?” a piece of chicken in, a smile comes out. “That’s it?”
“Maybe if he’s…Australian, maybe.” you shrugged.
“Yeah.”
“And if he’s…wait. what sign are you?”
“Don’t know..I think it’s kinda nonsense.”
“That’s a red flag.”
“Sorry?” cheeky.
The orange juice was left unattended for a minute. Good sign. Chuckles were still evident.
“Let’s get serious here…” shifting in your seat.
“Yeah.”
“You drive for a living?”
“Yeah, I go around in circles ‘nd stuff,” juice pause. “I could drive you around Melbourne..if you’d want to–”
“And you’ll take me back by eight? Maybe offering your hand as well?”
“Yeah,” squinting face. “I could do that.”
“Lovely.”
— carlos sainz
Does that thing with his eyes, bending down to take the fries in…while keeping an intense eye contact.
“Smooth operator, you like that song?”
“Everyone favorite song no?”
“Hard choice.” pausing your fries mid air. “Spanish songs that I have no idea what they’re talking about could be up there.”
“Really? Tell me one.”
“The one from fast and furious.”
“A lot of them,” throwing his head back. “Can you sing it for me?”
“Asking for me to sing already. You’re in a hurry Carlos?” a sip of your Diet Coke. “Fast Five?”
“Eh..Danza Kuduro?”
“How could I know?” you shrugged. “What’s the song about anyways?”
“Something like…dancing…er…with tight ass.”
“Make sense.”
Looking confused as ever with that big, brown eyes. Mouth agape and shut every time few seconds, curling into a smile most of the time.
“So you’re still looking for job next year?”
“Huh?”
“Lewis Hamilton? Looking for job?”
“Eh..” leaned back in his seat. “Could be. Are you offering?”
“I’m a pretty busy girl..”
“Really? How busy?”
“So you’re up for it? That’s fast.”
“I’ll have to talk to my manager,” raising his eyebrow. “What is your requirement?”
“A Ferrari driver.”
“Sure.”
— charles leclerc
Trying to not laugh his ass off every five seconds or just completely blanks out. Chicken tasted good though.
“Charles, I have to ask you one thing.”
“Yeah?”
“How do you pronounce your last name?”
“I don’t..I don’t care, really.” Shrugging his shoulders. “Charles. Le. Clare.”
“Hm…maybe just use my last name instead, it’s easier.”
“I– yeah?”
“What?”
His chicken was pretty cleaned up the first few minutes. Plenty of confused chuckles.
“Do you think you are a committed person?”
“I…I…it’s a hard question no?” he put his hand together, in an Italian – sorry, Monegasque way. “I like to say I am.”
“I could tell.”
“Really? How?”
“Your contract with Ferrari.”
— logan sargeant
He was used to burger and fries but maybe he could just tolerate chicken and fries for your pretty company.
“What’s your ideal date?”
“Hm..definitely chicken shop dates.”
“Really? Where’s best chicken you ever had then?”
“This one.”
“That’s not an option.”
Subtle stares here and there, his cheeks might be hurting from all the grinning though.
“What’s your ideal type?” munching his ketchup-ed fries.
“So you don’t do researches.”
“I am now.”
“You know…starting to have a thing for Americans. You have any recommendations?”
“You could start by going fishing in the Keys with me,” stretched his arms.
“I’m not into fishy things.”
“Just boat rides?”
“I could do that.”
Coke break.
“Your thoughts on frat boys?”
“They’re fine,” he shrugged.
“And you’re not like a..secret member? Is it like a One Direction..thing?”
“Maybe better looking?” smirked. “I could see myself being one if I wasn’t racing.”
“Dreams do come true, Sargeant.”
“Ouch,” clutching his chest. “Ah– well– Maybe this other dream could come true as well?”
“You being better looking than One Direction?”
tell me who should be in chicken shop dateee 😩😩
– @namgification @jsjcue @c-losur3
Today’s a great day to take care of yourself!!
#formula 1#f1 x reader#f1#f1 imagines#charles leclerc imagines#lando norris x reader#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri#carlos sainz#carlos sainz x reader#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc#logan sargent x reader#logan sargeant
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NEW YEAR, NEW ME
( A collab with thee lovely lele @bloombabydoll )
If you want to reinvent and rebrand yourself, or just continue to make positive improvements in 2024, the first thing is to evaluate your current year.
EVALUATION
Reflect on how things went for you. Was there continuous growth? Were there many difficult times? Did you discover anything major about yourself and so on. Try to summarise your year in (a) paragraph(s) at least.
Oversee your goals. Which ones you didn’t, did achieve, difficult ones, easy ones and the impacts it had on your life.
Compare your dream girl then and now. Is your visualisation of your life currently different to the one you have now and why?
List any major losses or successes you’ve had in your life, and how they have helped you or why it matters to you.
This evaluation can be as detailed or simple as you like, but as long as you have a decent outline of your year.
PREPARING & PLANNING
To prepare for 2024, you want to know what you want life to be like in 2024. Something realistic to a point, but still is a growth journey.
Think of something that you can associate with 2024. This can be a word, a symbol, art, a song, a book, a movie, a place, or even just all of these things. When you think about your goals and your journey, this is your theme. This is something that should relate to your goals or your dream girl somehow.
For me, I chose a word and a song. My word is growth because, for me, 2023 was a year for just being able to shed my old self which I did achieve however I just felt there wasn’t much growth as an actual person and not just in my environment.
For my song, it is Mayflowers by Proleters and Taskrok. This song is the epitome of what I would imagine, is the most polished mindset. I would say perfect, but having a perfect mindset is near impossible. I want to have a mindset glow up because I’ve just been hard on myself lately which has caused my confidence to plummet.
Before we get into the fun part of the preparation stage, we have to do some organisation in our life. I want you to take a look at your daily lifestyle and your habits, and be completely unashamed about this.
Then categorise these habits into two sections; Leave and Leap. Leave habits are habits that you are leaving behind in 2023, leap habits are habits that are leaping into 2024 with you.
Any habits that are self-destructive, addictive or generally harmful are leave habits. Beneficial habits and self-building are leaping with you into the new year.
I want you to do the same for people in your life, all environments (school, work, online etc) and anything else you believe needs to be sorted out.
This works better if you can reason with yourself why it is a leaping or leaving habit, but don’t try to convince yourself a bad habit is good or vice versa.
Now, I want you to document an honest paragraph about who you are right now. List your bad and good habits, your strengths and weaknesses and your behaviours. This one requires a bit more detail.
Then, write a paragraph about who you will be in 2024, your dream girl. List her habits, lifestyle, behaviours, mindset, strengths and anything else extra. I’ll explain later but do not include materialistic desires in this your dream girl. Once again, this one also requires details.
Stemming from those paragraphs, I want you to create specific and achievable goals. SMART goals are best, but I want to introduce you to how I set goals.
I divide my year into quarters. For each 3 months, I have 3-5 goals for those months. Usually, it’s one from each area of my life. Then, I break down these goals.
Questions and How They Help
Why do I want to do this goal - For motivation and commitment.
How it’ll benefit me - For the sake of improvement.
How can I involve myself in this goal - To achieve your goal.
I prefer this method because it is a lot simpler for me, as I am just a young girl and my bigger goals are more in the future in which I’ll utilise SMART goals.
To create good goals; Make sure they align with your current values and life principles first. Try to avoid creating goals that you have just taken from the internet. Those goals just aren’t it and you most likely won’t follow through with it.
Be specific. Don’t say you want to eat more healthily, instead say you want to include (a certain group of veggies/fruits) in your diet and reduce the intake of ( food/drink).
E.g using eating healthy example
I want to eat healthy -> I want to start including foods that boost my immunity system and support my skin while reducing those that have the opposite effect.
Then break down those quarterly goals into monthly, weekly and daily goals. Make these habits that you can establish in your lifestyle and have a way in which you can refer back to your progress.
EXAMPLE GOAL BREAKDOWN
Quarterly Goal - Read 6 books.
Monthly Goal - Finish 2 books.
Weekly Goal - Be or near half way of one book.
Daily Goal - 20 minutes of reading per day.
AREAS TO SET GOALS IN YOUR LIFE
Academics
Spiritual
Fitness/sport
Health and wellbeing
Mental health
Personal life
Relationships
Hobbies and recreation
Now for the best part- vision boards! Collect all of your favourite images that embody your quarters or the whole year, then put them in one place where you can see them regularly!
Some ideas are a scrapbook, Pinterest boards, mood boards, playlists etc.
Choose your theme; It can be your healthy girl era, your academic come back or whatever you want. You can have more than two btw.
Use quotes! Then actually say them in your daily life as a way to shift your mindset to reflect said quote.
Include inspirational people. It doesn't even have to be a millionaire or a very well established person, it could be your friends or someone on the internet.
Be imaginative. Your vision board doesn't have to realistic in my opinion, as the whole point of it to me is that viewing it daily and considering it to be part of your life one day allows for you to open up to those opportunities.
Materialistic Wants
I feel obligated to make this a separate section. This section is practically tangible objects that you want.
However, when choosing this said object that you want, mindfully think about why you want that thing specifically.
It doesn’t have to be meaningful, but as long as each thing on that list has got a purpose to you, and will serve you, I think it’s all good!
Conclusion
If you want, you can definitely start implementing habits before January. However, I believe that as long as you go into 2024 at least knowing who you want to be and shedding away any limiting beliefs, you’ll be fine.
Make sure to incorporate some self care rituals into your daily life as well✨
To end this, I hope everyone has a very merry Christmas! And that 2024 they will achieve to close that gap with their current selves and their dream girl selves! 💖🙏
#that girl lifestyle#becoming her#becoming that girl#that girl#green juice girl#clean girl#pink pilates princess#pink pilates girl#pink pill#wonyoungism#new year#new me#reinvent yourself#im rebranding#resetting#self worth#self help#self reflection#self growth#self love#self care#self improvement#self development#inner peace#inner work#self reflecting
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cryptic | S.R.
You and Spencer get a surprise beyond your wildest dreams.
who? spencer reid x fem!AFAB!reader
category: fluff (hurt/comfort a little bit)
content warnings: oh geez. pregnancy, periods, weight, medical inaccuracy, cryptic pregnancy, traumatic birth, NICU, hospitals, maybe a little ooc i'm not sure, breastfeeding, reader is running solely on oxytocin, crying.
word count: 6k
a/n: does anyone else have an irrational fear of this? is it just me? that's why i wrote this anyways. also i wrote this MONTHS ago so if it's bad i'm not culpable. (yall voted for unhinged fluff, here it is) anyways i'm calling this part of my "spencer reid dilf agenda".
him
In his work life, Spencer faced fear every day – that was part of the reason he loved life with you so much. The two of you had just moved to your first house together and were still unpacking boxes when he was called away to upstate New York for a case.
You weren’t frustrated with him; you merely kissed him and encouraged him to go save the day.
So, when he told you last night that you must’ve hurt your back trying to move the couch, he didn’t think anything of it. He just told you to rest and to let him know how you were doing in the morning, but when the morning came, there was a break in the case. Spencer had completely forgotten that he was expecting your call.
As the team waited in the police precinct, he didn’t wonder why Hotch answered a phone call and furrowed his brows at Reid until he called him over to talk in private.
For once, his overactive mind went blank when Hotch explained to him that you were in the hospital and that he should call your best friend, Ivy.
In a daze, Spencer pulled his phone out of his pocket to find that he had missed two calls from you and thirteen calls from Ivy. Isolating himself in an abandoned office, he looked at your friend’s contact and pressed the call button.
The phone didn’t even have a chance to ring before Ivy answered, “Spencer! Oh my god,” she said, sounding relieved to be hearing from him. “I am so sorry for calling your boss. I pulled his number from Y/N’s contacts – I didn’t know how else to reach you, and I- “
“Ivy, what’s wrong?” Spencer asked, teetering between panic and impatience. “She told me she thought he had just pulled a muscle moving,” he explained, wondering what could’ve happened.
On the other end of the call, Ivy took a deep, shaky breath. “She’s okay, but you have to come home,” she whispered, keeping her voice down.
Now he was leaning closer to panic, “Where is she?”
“Northern Virginia Hospital,” Ivy responded. “When you get here, call me, and I’ll bring you to her,” she told him.
Spencer took a deep breath and left the empty office once he ended the call, very nearly running into Hotch, “I need to- “
Holding his hand up in a ‘wait’ gesture, Hotch nodded, “There’s a flight going out, Morgan will drive you to the airport. Don’t worry about anything here,” he instructed him, gesturing over to where Morgan was standing with the keys to one of the SUVs.
After promising to call when he could, a thirty-minute flight, and a ten-minute taxi right, Spencer called Ivy back.
“Hey,” her voice was quiet through the receiver, “are you here?”
He turned around in the lobby of the hospital, “I just came in the front entrance; what wing is she in?” He asked. Which wing would a back injury be in? He supposed it depended on the severity of the back injury.
She cleared her throat and there was a soft rustling before Ivy answered, “Stay put, I’ll come to you.” Her words came out quickly as if she was trying to prevent him from going looking for her.
Then he began to lean closer to impatience, nonetheless, he waited the couple of minutes that it took for Ivy to come out of an elevator, motioning for Spencer to catch up before they took the elevator back up. “Ivy,” Spencer said, “What is happening?”
“She called me at six this morning, saying that she thought she had pulled a muscle in her back and couldn’t sleep. I told her to take some ibuprofen and try to rest, and if she didn’t feel better by lunch, I’d bring her to urgent care. She called me again at ten and told me something was seriously wrong, but she didn’t know what,” Ivy informed him, her voice sounding distant. “She was crying, and I’ve never heard her sound so scared. So, I called an ambulance and met her here while she was triaged…” Her voice trailed off as they exited the elevator.
Spencer’s heart ached at the thought of you being so scared, but it still didn’t answer his question: What happened?
Ivy sniffled and wiped her nose, “Spencer, have you ever heard of a cryptic pregnancy?”
He stopped in his tracks, eyes as wide as saucers, “She’s pregnant?” His words came out as a whisper, a mix of emotions flurried through him.
Your best friend smiled softly at him, “No, she had a baby. That back pain? She was in labor.”
Questions popped into his head quicker than he could ask him. He took a trembling breath, “Where are they?”
She led him around the corner, crossing her arms in front of her chest, “She’s in postpartum recovery, the baby’s up a floor in the NICU. It all happened really fast; you know? Anyways, they kind of whisked the baby away while saying things about Apgar scores that we didn’t really understand.
They stopped for a moment to get Spencer a visitor’s badge before he motioned for Ivy to continue.
Ivy shrugged in response, “She was kind of inconsolable after that, they gave her something to calm her down, but she keeps asking for you,” Ivy said, stopping outside of a door.
Spencer peeked through the blinds to your room. You’re awake, lying on the white bed, absentmindedly picking at the hospital bracelet around your wrist.
“If you need a minute before going in there, take it. Once you go in there, you need to be strong or brave or whatever,” Ivy instructed, putting her hands on her hips. “I’m not saying you can’t be confused or upset, I’d be worried if you weren’t. I’m saying she just gave birth unmedicated without ever even knowing she was pregnant, and they haven’t come back with an update,” she said, looking at Spencer like she was assessing a threat.
He nodded in understanding. Maybe when his head was clear he’d thank Ivy for being so protective of you, but he just nodded. “I need to be in there with her,” he insisted.
Ivy acquiesced, letting him know that she was going to go to the house to get clothes and was going to the store. At that point, Spencer had only been half listening to her.
You didn’t move on the bed when he opened the door. He looked at the whiteboard on the wall, his heart clenching when he saw the words ‘Baby Reid’ written below your name. Spencer quietly walked closer to you before he pulled a chair up so that it was at your bedside and took a seat. He could see tear tracks on your cheeks, “Sweetheart,” he whispered.
Your eyes closed, and two more tears streaked down your cheeks. There was an IV in your wrist and your vitals were being monitored. It wasn’t until Spencer leaned over and smoothed your hair back that you really started to cry.
Gently, Spencer sat on the edge of your bed, and you leaned forward into him. He just held you, running a hand up and down your back as he gently shushed you, “I’m here, darling. I’m here.”
“I had a baby,” you rasped, so quietly that Spencer wasn’t sure if you were telling him or trying to convince yourself that it wasn’t a dream.
He was quiet for just a moment, letting a few silent tears stream down his own cheeks. “I know,” he murmured, “I’m so proud of you.”
You hummed, leaning back ever so slightly, closing your eyes when Spencer kissed your forehead. “I tried calling you,” you whispered, looking up at him with watery eyes and lifting your hands so that you could wipe away the tears.
“I know. I’m so sorry,” he tried to apologize. There was no way for him to navigate this situation, but if he felt this lost, then he couldn’t begin to fathom how you were feeling.
Shaking your head, you waved off his apology, “Did you catch the bad guy?”
He nodded, smiling at your question, “Yeah, we got him this morning. That’s why I didn’t get your call,” he said as he took your hand and intertwined your fingers. “Can I get you anything? Have you eaten? Do you need water?”
A slight smile grew on your face at his concern, a fact that made his heart soar, “I should probably eat something.” The smile faded quickly, “We should probably talk, right?” You asked, leaning forward in the bed to reach for a pile of papers at the foot of the bed.
Noticing a pained look on your face, Spencer set a hand on your shoulder. “I’ll get it,” he said, guiding you so you were lying back on the pillows. “Please be careful,” he reached for the papers and handed them to you.
Quickly, you flipped through the stack of papers that was now in your lap. “I’ve been thinking, you know, and they gave me all of these papers with my options, but we have space at the new house. I work from home most of the time anyway, and we can afford it and- “
Spencer cut you off, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Yes,” he whispered against your lips before he kissed them again.
Studying you, he watched as you visibly relaxed into your hospital bed. He followed your gaze as you looked out the window of the hospital room, “Spence,” you breathed as a nurse wearing pink scrubs walked into the room.
She looked at him, “Hello, are you dad?”
Dad. He was a dad. Spencer nodded enthusiastically at the nurse.
“I’ve got these bracelets for you two then, they’re to help keep little families like yours together,” she says, loping the white bracelets around both his and your wrist. “Baby’s got two,” she lets you both know. “So, Baby Reid had a hard time breathing at first, but we up in the NICU cleared some of the amniotic fluid from her lungs and everything is looking much better now. Another nurse is bringing the bassinet now…” her voice trailed off when someone knocked on the door.
He wanted to make sure he had heard the nurse correctly. Did she say ‘her’?
The door opened, and it was the tiny hat with the bow that gave it away. She wriggled on the white sheet in her bassinet, looking around her new surroundings. Spencer looked from you to her and couldn’t help the tears that pricked his eyes. It was an emotion that he couldn’t quite place.
Noticing the way you leaned forward, the nurse spoke, “Would you like to hold her?”
“I- Can I? Is she okay?” You asked nervously, for the first time that day, Spencer heard the fear in your voice.
Nodding, the nurse wheeled the bassinet closer to you, helping you move your hospital gown so that you could do skin-to-skin. As she did so, she talked about bonding with a newborn, but Spencer was so enamored watching you that he wasn’t really listening. “We’re estimating that she’s about thirty-five weeks, so she’s late preterm, but she should be able to go home when you do,” the nurse informed you, making sure you were comfortable holding the baby before she stepped back.
The concept of being in a home surrounded by boxes with a newborn stressed him out, but then the tiny baby on your chest let out a squawk and he returned to just watching the two of you.
Both of the nurses left to give the three of you time, and you turned to Spencer, “What was thirty-five weeks ago?” You asked, gently rubbing your thumb over your newborn’s back.
“Exactly? July sixteenth,” he responded, watching your daughter as her eyes shut. “She fell asleep,” he observed, dropping his voice down to a whisper.
You hummed in response, bending your head down and pressing a gentle kiss on the crown of her head. “She needs a name,” you murmured, “we can’t keep calling her baby.”
Spencer leaned over the edge of your bed, “Do you have any ideas?” He asked, even though he already knew you’ve been keeping a list of baby names in your phone for years.
Shrugging ever so slightly, you peered down at your daughter, “All I know is that her last name’s gonna be Reid.” Your eyes flittered up to his, “Please don’t cry. If you cry, I’ll sob, and our daughter is asleep on me, and I don’t want to wake her up.”
“I just love you so much,” he told you softly.
“We can do this, can’t we?” You asked him nervously, narrowing your brows. “She doesn’t have a name. Our house is a disaster. Oh… Spence, we don’t have a car seat. We can’t take her home if we don’t have a car seat.”
Realistically, Spencer knew that you had at least twenty-four hours before you were released from the hospital, maybe forty-eight, given the circumstances. He also knew that you knew this, and he was afraid the events of the day were beginning to take a toll on you. He wasn’t going to say that, instead, he leaned forward and comforted you, “We’ll figure something out, I promise, okay? The name thing we can do.” He encouraged you to take one step at a time, “What about Ivy?”
Your head snapped up, “Really?” You asked, staying conscientious of the newborn on your chest.
“She was there for you through all of this when I couldn’t be,” he shrugged. “Did you know she dug through your contacts on your phone and called Hotch when I didn’t answer?” He watched a small smile tug at your lips, “I just think we should honor her in some way.”
Nodding, a full smile bloomed on your face, “Absolutely.” There was a brief silence, “Do you need to call Hotch? You can step out if you need to. We’re fine alone. I mean just for a little while not for- “
That was the second time you had nearly worked yourself into a panic. Spencer set a hand on your shoulder, “Y/N, angel. Don’t stress yourself out, okay? I’ll handle it.” He promised, after all, you had already done the hard work.
You paused and took a deep breath at his encouragement, leaving the both of you in silence while you caught your breath. “What about Eleanor?”
He smiled and looked at your sleeping baby, “It’s perfect,” he whispered.
The first time Eleanor, who had quickly been nicknamed Nell, cried with the two of you in the room was also the first time Spencer held her. He had been too nervous before, not that he’d tell you that, but when her wails started and he saw you wincing as you sat up in the bed, he instinctively picked her up.
He was still in his work clothes. Granted, he had taken off his tie and the top two buttons of his shirt had been undone, but it didn’t seem to bother Nell, the baby had quickly hushed upon contact. “Sit back,” he gently instructed, “Are you in pain?”
You nestled back into the pillows, “Just a little, they said it’s normal.”
Nothing about this was normal, Spencer wanted to say, but he knew you were well aware. He handed you the baby, knowing that it had been two hours since she last ate and that was likely why she was crying. According to the nurses, she was a good eater. He took their word for it.
Spencer watched you rock gently as Nell ate, you were staring off at nothing, so he asked, “What are you thinking right now?”
“I’m wondering why you’re not more freaked out,” you admitted, looking down at the newborn.
He leaned back in the chair, “I don’t know. I work best under pressure and with a little bit of chaos. It’s also highly likely that the entire situation hasn’t fully sunken in yet.”
You nodded understandingly, “It’s a lot to take in. If you think about it, most parents have months to fully prepare and wrap their heads around it. It’s been about ten hours for me. Maybe six hours for you.”
Nodding, Spencer watched intently as Nell fell asleep, her tiny fists falling and quiet coos coming from her. He heard you say something to him, but the words didn’t process. “What?”
Giggling quietly, you cocked your head at him, “Do you want to hold her?”
“Uh, I don’t know,” he replied honestly. You seemed like you were taking to parenthood exceedingly well, he was afraid he wouldn’t match up.
In the end, it was your understanding smile that prompted him to agree. “Unbutton your shirt,” you ordered, laughing at him when he looked bewildered. “Skin-to-skin isn’t just for moms, Spence. Besides, I want you to bond. I want her to know who you are even when you’re away for work.”
He obliged your request, undoing his shirt so that he could gently place Nell on his bare chest. She squawked while she was being moved from parent to parent but quieted again as soon as she was being held, “she’s so small,” Spencer remarked, marveling at the tiny creature on top of him.
You nodded sleepily, “Four pounds, fourteen ounces. She had to fit behind my ribcage somehow.”
The oddness of the situation began to find a place in him. Were there changes in you that neither of you had noticed? Your period was always irregular, there was no significant weight change, and even morning sickness had seemed to totally pass you by. “I can’t believe we had no idea,” he murmured as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to Nell’s head.
“I went to the doctor three months ago for chest pains, do you remember? I took an at-home pregnancy test just in case and it came back negative. The nurses here told me that there’s a less than one percent chance of that happening,” you informed him, slowly starting to mumble.
Spencer looked up at you to find that your eyes were fluttering shut. “You should sleep. I’ve got this.”
You grunted in protest, “but what- “
“No,” he interrupted. “She just ate, she’s sleeping, and you’re exhausted. I can spend some time with her while you sleep.”
Sleepily, you grinned, sliding down on the bed, and settling your head on the pillows, “Daddy’s girl,” you whispered.
He loved the sound of that.
you
You had always known that Spencer Reid was perfect, and as you watched him fall into the role of father, that knowledge became concrete. You blinked the sleep out of your eyes and kept your gaze on the two of them, not daring to disturb the peace. Instead, you watched in awe as he held your daughter, softly speaking to her as if she could fully comprehend what he was saying.
For all you knew, she could understand what he was saying. She was Spencer’s kid, after all.
Gently, he whispered to her and one of her little fingers gripped his index finger. “Your palmar reflex lets you hold my finger like that, Nellie. It’ll go away when you’re six months old,” he softly swiped his thumb over her back as he murmured to her. “I don’t usually like surprises,” he admitted to the infant, “but you and your mama might just be the best thing to ever happen to me.”
You grinned, reaching your hand out and touching the green armchair, “I love you.” He reached out a hand to hold yours. “Do you want to try to get some sleep?” You offered. Your body still ached, but getting some sleep had made you feel loads better.
“I don’t think I can,” he answered candidly. “I feel so…”
“Wired? Stressed?” You suggested.
He shrugged slightly, “I was going to say hyperaware, but yes,” he responded.
You wheeled the empty bassinet closer to him, “Set her down. Babies can sense stress. Take a minute, catch your breath,” you told him.
Reluctantly, Spencer placed Nell in the bassinet, adjusting the hat on her head while you watched him. “Don’t worry about me,” he said softly.
Your shoulders drooped involuntarily, “When was the last time you slept, love?” After years with Spencer, you know he would go days without sleeping in order to break a case. His lack of a response answered your question well enough. Quickly, you pressed your call button and asked if a nurse could take Nell to the nursery.
Once you made sure the baby was taken care of, you moved over in the hospital bed and patted the open space. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” he told you.
That was the problem with Spencer. He would always put you, and now Eleanor, ahead of himself. It made your heart ache. “Spence, this has been the craziest day, and I can tell you haven’t slept. So, get over here and lay down with me,” you instructed.
Rolling his eyes, Spencer kicked off his shoes before lying next to you in the hospital bed, “Do you promise to wake me if you need anything?” He asked as he gingerly pulled you into his arms, afraid of hurting you.
You hummed, resting your head on his shoulder, “Cross my heart and hope to die.”
“I hate that saying,” Spencer whispered, pressing a tender kiss to your hairline.
Closing your eyes, you relaxed into him, “I promise, angel. Get some sleep.”
You startled awake, looking to make sure you didn’t wake Spencer. Your chest ached as you sat up, cringing at the noise your papery hospital gown made. Gingerly, you placed a hand over your heart, feeling the pounding of your heart and listening to the beeping of the monitor, cursing the screen for making so much noise.
This had happened earlier before Spencer arrived, and the doctor had given you something to calm down then.
When you came into the ER, they thought your appendix was bursting, but when they did an ultrasound, they found that you were in active labor. There was no time for an epidural, they didn’t have time to give you anything for the pain. A kind nurse held your hand and quickly explained what was going to happen.
Within thirty minutes, you arrived at the hospital, gave birth, and had your baby taken to the NICU.
It was too fast; your brain was so overwhelmed that it had shut down. It seemed like a ridiculous thought; how did you miss the birth of your daughter?
Hiccupping back a sob, you felt a comforting hand on your back, but the fact that you had woken Spencer up just made you cry harder. He wrapped his arms around you, and you buried your face in the crook of his neck. “Shh, it’s alright,” he cooed, rubbing small circles on your back. “I love you so much, you know that, right? I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you,” he comforted you. “It’s okay, it’s just all catching up with you, honey.”
You pulled away, wiping the tears from under your eyes. “It’s okay,” you repeated his words.
“What do you need right now?” He asked, smoothing your hair back. “Do you want to make a list? Do you want to move around?”
Nodding absentmindedly, you watched as Spencer pressed the call button and got up, helping you stand. Your legs shook, and you felt a bit like a foal, but it felt good to be out of bed. You haphazardly finger-combed your hair before stepping into hospital slippers and leaving the room. For now, the nurses instructed you to just walk around the maternity ward.
As the two of you walked around, you made several lists. Things you needed to buy. People you needed to call.
By the time you’d returned to the room, Ivy had returned. Spencer opened the door for you and helped you sit on the end of the bed.
“I’ve come bearing gifts,” Ivy greeted, grinning with bags in her hands. She gestured to a suitcase, “First, clothes for both of you. I just grabbed whatever I thought might be good. Toiletries and stuff too,” she said, rolling the suitcase off to the side. “I grabbed a couple of newborn outfits, but again, I was kind of flying blind. The lady at the department store was extremely helpful.” She handed Spencer a bag of baby clothes. “I got a car seat, the same lady recommended it, she was probably getting a commission, but it’s in my car. I have approximately zero idea how to set it up, but I figured, Spencer has a doctorate in engineering. He can do it.”
You glanced blearily at your best friend, “Ivy, you didn’t have to do all of this. This is too much,” you confessed, holding a tiny onesie in your hand.
She dismissed your insistence with a wave of her hand, “I also got this.” Ivy held out a small stuffed duck. “I know it won’t do her much good now, but I couldn’t help myself.”
After you changed out of your hospital garb, you looked at Spencer, “Go call Hotch, we’ll be good here for a while.” You gestured to your best friend, who was filtering through the suitcase she had packed, trying to find your hairbrush. At your request, he told you he’d also ask the nurse to bring Nell back down so that Ivy could meet her.
Once he was gone, Ivy sat behind you on the bed and brushed through your hair, tucking it out of your face, you were finally beginning to feel a little bit more like yourself by the time she had finished.
You watched intently as the nurse arrived at the door, “Do you want to meet her?”
Ivy nodded enthusiastically, lips parting as she observed the small baby. “Is that her name?” She rasped, looking at the card on the bassinet, Eleanor Ivy Reid. “That’s not funny, don’t joke about stuff like that.”
“Yeah,” you whispered, keeping your voice down as Eleanor slept. “It’s not a joke, and for the record, it was Spence’s idea,” you informed her, reaching into the bassinet, and scooping up the now-swaddled infant. “He’s so grateful that you were there for me, and I am too.”
She smiled, “I’m always going to be here for you two – you three now. Number one babysitter,” she said, pointing to herself.
You sighed and looked from your friend to your daughter, “She’s got a whole FBI unit of babysitters.”
“I’ll be here when they’re away – when Spencer’s away,” she reminded you, carefully adjusting the hat on the baby in your arms.
The last thing you wanted to think of was Spencer being gone, leaving you to take care of a baby you weren’t ready for.
Ivy must have sensed your nerves, “Hey, you know I’m always in your corner, right?”
You nodded slowly, “It’s just all catching up with me. I have to call my mom. I have to call my boss. How do you retroactively apply for maternity leave?”
“One thing at a time,” she said soothingly. “Right now, just enjoy your time with your perfect little family. I’ll call your mom for you,” she offered. “If your boss gives you any grief, he’ll have to deal with me.” Standing up, she placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, “I’m going to go get food, do you two still have the same orders from the deli?”
Confirming with her, you moved so that you could feed Nell, watching her as she looked up at you. “She’s right, you know? You are perfect,” you cupped her head with your hand, looking up to find Spencer watching from the doorway.
“Hotch says congratulations,” he spoke gently, striding over to your bedside and sitting on the edge of the bed. “He also said to let the team know if we needed anything,” he let you know, pressing a kiss to your forehead. He continued to let you know that Hotch had offered to figure out Spencer’s paternity leave, and while you felt bad about giving Hotch something else on his to-do list, it felt nice to have one less thing on yours.
You nodded, “Ivy’s gonna call my mom, so that’s two things off of our list.”
Spencer squeezed your shoulder, “They asked if they could come to visit, but I didn’t want to answer for you.” He moved back to the armchair, “I just said we’d let them know.”
“At the very least we’ll send a picture,” you murmured. “I’m surprised you’re not researching newborns right now.”
Raising his eyebrows, Spencer shrugged, “I asked one of the nurses if I could get access to the hospital library.”
You snorted, “Of course you did.”
No one from the BAU ended up visiting while you were in the hospital, mainly because the idea of too many people in the one hospital room made you anxious, but both you and Eleanor had been cleared to go home. Eventually, you would have to allow visitors.
“Spencer, you can go the speed limit,” you said from the backseat of the car, not taking your eyes off of the baby in her car seat.
He glanced back in the rearview mirror, “This stretch of road is bumpy. I don’t want to wake her.” Despite his anxieties, he was taking to fatherhood remarkably well.
You shook your head, “She’s already awake, babe.” She looked around her new surroundings, spending part of the six hours a day that she was awake going home for the first time. Part of the beauty of a newborn was that they slept for eighteen hours a day, but only in about fifty-minute bursts.
Spencer kept glancing back, and you made a mental note to get a mirror for the rear-facing car seat.
As he turned onto your street, you sat up slightly. “Who’s here?” You asked, looking at the cars in your driveway. You recognized Ivy’s car, but none of the others rang any bells.
“That’s JJ’s car, and that’s Morgan’s truck,” Spencer told you as he pulled into the driveway. Once he got out of the car, he ran around to where you were sitting. He opened the door, taking the car seat out of its base before helping you out of the car. “I had no idea they were here,” he said curiously.
You hummed thoughtfully, looking at Eleanor in her car seat. There was a part of you that felt horrible, you didn’t have anywhere for her to sleep set up. Another part of you knew that she’d be just fine sleeping in your arms while Spencer set something up. “Far be it from the BAU to abandon one of their own in their time of need,” you murmured, stepping through the front door as Spencer held it open for you.
Setting the carrier on the coffee table, you undid the clips so that you could hold the baby. As you lifted her, her legs scrunched up until you held her to your chest, at which point she settled.
“Where are they?” You asked, gently rubbing Nell’s back as she started to fall asleep on you. You peeked around the corner into the kitchen, across the counter, there were bottles set out to dry, along with other various baby things. “Oh, Spence,” you breathed.
There was a distinct lack of boxes in your house, they weren’t entirely unpacked, but there were much less than there had been when you left. A crash from upstairs got both of your attention, Spencer’s arm instinctively going around your waist.
Together, the two of you walked upstairs, finding members of the BAU in one of the rooms that was going to be a guest room setting up a nursery. “Hey?” You said, peeking in through the doorway.
“Oh my god!” Penelope said, “Wait, crap, sleeping baby.” She covered her mouth with her hands, horrified at the idea of disturbing the sleeping infant.
You smiled, looking around suspiciously, “What’s going on here?”
Rossi waved a finger at you, “Your best friend is a drill sergeant is what’s going on here.”
Confused, you turned around to see Ivy with her hands on her hips. “I thought you weren’t coming home until the afternoon,” she explained, “I was going to have them all out of here so you could have a nice peaceful house.”
“You enlisted the BAU to unpack our house?” You asked her, tears pricking at your eyes.
Ivy shrugged, “It started as just asking a question, but we all came to the same conclusion. The two of you were never going to ask for help, so we had to take matters into our own hands.” She wiped her hands on her jeans, “Plus, they have kids, so they actually knew what you needed,” she gestured to JJ and Hotch.
You leaned forward to give her a one-armed hug, keeping yourself mindful of the baby. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Penelope hugging Spencer.
JJ stepped forward, “I’m around. Any questions you have,” she assured you. “How are you feeling?”
Laughing nervously, you looked up at Spencer, “Still reeling.”
The rest of the team laughed too, which brought you some semblance of comfort. “I almost thought you were playing a prank,” Emily confessed.
“No, you definitely thought they were trying to prank us. You didn’t believe them until they sent the picture,” Morgan said, exposing her.
Appalled, Emily rolled her eyes, but you spoke up, “I’m not sure I would have believed us either.” Had you not experienced it firsthand, you definitely would’ve been skeptical. Eleanor was going on two days old, and you had still woken up wondering if it was all some kind of dream.
Spencer had previously told everyone that no one could hold her. He was concerned about germs. You echoed his concerns, just maybe not as strongly. So, instead, everyone just cooed at her until Spencer gently ushered you into your bedroom.
You let out a sigh of relief when you spotted a bassinet set up next to your bed. Gently, you set her down while Spencer pulled the bedding down, “You should rest,” he told you softly.
“Spence, I just spent the majority of the last two days in a bed. I’m tired of bed,” you responded, sitting down on the ledge of the bed.
He hummed in response, “You just had a baby.”
Reaching out, you took his hands in yours, “Moving around will be good for me. I promise not to do anything to tear my stitches. I’ll just show Nell the house.”
“Babies don’t recognize their surroundings until four to six months, so she wouldn’t recognize anything you showed her anyway,” he told you.
You narrowed your eyebrows at him, “Spencer."
He held up his hands in concession, “Right, overbearing.”
“Hey,” you said softly, “We’re still figuring this out, right? So, we’ll take it one step at a time.” You offered, having already had an in-depth discussion about being okay with making mistakes. “Why don’t we go check out the nursery?” You stood up, watching as Spencer carefully picked Nell up, cradling her in his arms.
You led the way into the hallway to find JJ, Morgan, and Ivy finishing the nursery. Morgan and JJ moved the crib to a different side of the room while Ivy placed books on a shelf.
Ever so slightly, you leaned into Spencer, glancing at the sleeping infant in his arms, you reached over and cupped her head with your hand. “This is your family, Nell,” you whispered, smiling when Spencer leaned down to press a kiss to the crown of your head.
That was your first lesson in parenthood, it really does take a village.
please remember to like, comment, and/or reblog if you enjoyed!
#criminal minds#spencer reid#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid fanfic#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#written by margot#spencer reid angst#spencer reid fluff#criminal minds angst#criminal minds fluff#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fic#dr spencer reid#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds hurt/comfort#spencer reid hurt/comfort#spencer reid dilf agenda
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Desire
Halsin x Fem!Reader
A/N: Am I going to use this gif for every nsfw halsin piece? yes. do I care? absolutly not. lol. Anyways, this is based off this request! I hope you all enjoy <3
Word Count: 1.6k
Warnings: 18+ ONLY. NSFW. Breeding Kink, Halsin wants to get reader pregnant, creampie, unprotected sex, PiV Sex, fingering, Halsin is feral in this one i feel like lol, dirty talk (kinda), discussions of starting a family, fluff, soft at the end.
His hands are like branding irons against your skin, rough calluses creating delicious friction as he slides them beneath your shirt.
“Halsin, what…?” your questions trails off into a breathless moan as he nips at the delicate skin of your neck, all while ushering you quite frantically to his chamber in the grove.
While Halsin and you are intimate more often than most, this is abnormal. Your partner is usually slow, attentive, attuned to your every need. But now…he still seems to be attuned to you but his pace is…feral. It’s needy and hurried, as if he can’t get to you quick enough, can’t press his body to you close enough.
And it seemed to come from nowhere.
The only thing of note that happened that day was that you and Halsin went to visit one of the refugee families who had just had a babe a few days past. A beautiful baby girl that you had been dying to hold since you helped bring her into this world. You and Halsin had spent but a scant amount of time in their home before Halsin was whisking you away.
And now here you are, being pressed down onto a familiar bed, with Halsin filling your every sense, surrounding you with nothing but himself. His fingers are already fumbling with the ties of your shirt, and while you don’t stop him, you can’t help but try to voice your question once more.
“Halsin,” you say, breath catching in your throat as he starts to trail kisses down your newly exposed skin. “What has gotten into you?” you finally ask.
His lips break from your skin only long enough to offer a reply, and even then they still brush against you, leaving goosebumps in their wake as he travels down, his hands slowly inching your shirt upwards in effort to remove it.
“Seeing you with the child, with that small babe in your arms,” he groans as he nuzzles into your hip. “It did things to me that I had never imagined.”
His teeth nip at your skin as your heart rate stutters, arousal pooling in your belly as you realize what he’s saying.
“I want that,” he whispers, voice thick with sin. “I want to see you round with my child. I want to fill you so completely until there is no doubt you carry our babe in your belly…”
His hands have slid down again, fingers hooking in the waistband of your pants, and your hips are coming up to aid him before you even speak.
“Oh, gods…yes-” you moan, your permission leaving your lips without any hesitation.
And that is all Halsin requires.
Your pants are pulled from you, discarded across the room along with your shirt and underthings soon after. You don’t even see how Halsin rids himself of his garments before he is on you once more, his body blanketing yours in a wall of furnace like heat and pure muscle.
You can feel him against your hip, hot and hard as steel, already leaking against your skin. His hands wander to your thighs, fingers digging into the muscle as he settles himself between your hips.
Halsin typically spends an infuriating amount of time with foreplay, saying he often enjoys it more than the deed itself, but tonight you can sense it will be different. He’s eager, more so than usual and you can see the way his muscles strain beneath his skin. The tendons in his neck pulled taught, biceps bulging, the chords in his back tense beneath your hands as you run them down his spine.
He wants to take you. Now.
And if it were any other night you would protest, liking and needing the preparation. But tonight…tonight you can’t wait. You’re already dripping from the way he touched you earlier, from the way he practically dragged you into his chambers, devouring you the whole way. And Haslin finds out as well, one of his hands sliding deftly upwards to sink between your legs, fingers slipping between wet folds before teasing your entrance.
His shoulders shake with a stuttered sigh, his breath warm against your lips as he sinks two fingers inside you.
“You’re already dripping, for me,” he groans, lips brushing against yours as his head falls down to rest on your shoulder. “Tell me you do not want this and I will stop,” he says softly, using what little restraint remains to give you about. “Say the word and I will turn from you now-”
Your fingers dig into his back, things clenching against his hips. “Don’t you dare-”
His fingers leave you as soon as the words escape you, and he rises up just enough to capture your lips with his own as he sinks himself inside you in one fluid thrust. He swallows the sinful moan that rips from your chest, tongue pushing past your lips to drink in your pleasure as he wastes no time in setting a punishing pace.
The stretch of him is divine, the slight discomfort giving way to ecstasy as he moves against you. His arms rest beside your head, fingers carding through your hair as he pulls away for air, only to nose gently at your cheek.
“I can see you now,” he whispers, one hand coming down to rest against your stomach, his lips trailing to your jaw and lower. “Heavy with child but glowing as your body works to bring new life into this world.”
His hips snap into you then, causing him to brush up against that sweet spot inside you with each consequent press of his hips.
“Oh, fuck - Halsin-!”
You can feel yourself hurtling towards your end, desire burning in your veins as that all too familiar coil pulls taut in your core. Your very being sings with pleasure as Halsin touches you, his lips like liquid fire against your already burning skin.
Thick arms move to slide beneath you, wrapping around your waist and tilting your hips upwards ever so slightly until he’s pressing into you so deep you see stars.
“And they will know - everyone will know who you belong to,” he says, voice strained as his hips start to lose rhythm.
You feel his lips brushing against your ear, breath warm as he whispers the words that are your undoing.
“Everyone will know that you are mine.”
Pure starlight explodes behind your eyes as you come undone, clenching around Halsin as he works you through your orgasm with short stuttered thrusts. His name falls from your lips like a prayer, nails leaving deep red marks along his back as you fight to pull him impossibly closer.
Halsin comes with a shout of your name, warmth spilling inside of you as he continues to move his hips slowly against your own, working you both through your highs until you’re both equally spent.
His chest presses deliciously against your own as he sags down into the bed, your skin slick with sweat and much more. But Halsin doesn’t seem to mind, pressing gentle kisses to your temple, your cheek, before finally capturing your lips in a proper kiss.
You sigh against him as he kisses you, his lips soft and gentle in comparison to his earlier frenzied actions. His arms slip from around you, moving instead to run up your sides and down your thighs that are still wrapped around his hips.
You are the first to pull away, but Halsin seems reluctant to remove himself from you, pressing whisper light kisses to your cheeks, your jaw, and down to your neck. Sliding one hand up his back and over his shoulder, your fingers carding through his hair as you scratch lightly at his scalp.
“Halsin is this…do you truly want this? Children?” you ask, voice soft.
The man above you lets out a soft sigh, forehead dropping to rest against your shoulder before coming back up to press another kiss to your lips. When he finally pulls away to answer your question, his hazel eyes are soft and sparkling with a vulnerability you don’t often see in the older elf.
“To say that I have not had a desire for a family would be a lie,” he says quietly. “But I did not know just how deeply that desire ran until I saw you holding Anya’s child. Seeing you like that, caring for a babe with a smile on your face made me realize how much I truly crave that. With you. I wish to have a family with you, my heart. But only if that is something you desire as well.”
Your chest aches with absolute joy as he speaks, eyes starting to water at the sincerity of his words. While you’d never voiced the thought to Halsin, you’d also thought about having children with him. You’d always just assumed he wouldn’t want to be tied down, always destined to wander. So, to hear that he wants this too - with you no less, it makes you feel ready to burst with happiness, your chest tight in the best way.
You nod, lips splitting into a grin. “Yes. Yes, I want…I want that with you too, Halsin. So much.”
The grin that adorns his face is enough to rival your own joy, and you’re unable to stop the squeal of utter delight as he peppers your face with kisses.
“You continue to make me the happiest man on this earth,” he says as his forehead comes to rest on your own. “I do not deserve you.”
“Yes, you do,” you tell him, reaching up to cup his cheek as a sly smirk tugs at your lips. “But…if we want to start a family…I’d say we better keep trying.”
Halsin laughs, pressing a kiss to your lips before pressing his hips into yours again. And you have a feeling you won’t be leaving your bed until the sun shines in the morning.
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campfire games
luke castellan x reader - percy jackson and the olympians
[established relationship, fem!daughter of ares reader]
summary: bets are fun, until they aren’t. you’re fine though. luke knows you’re an absolute badass.
warning: pushy male behaviour, suggestive comments, swearing, bets, threats, assault (physical), sexual harassment.
word count: 1.6k
(help i’m writing too many of these but this is the only other good one also feel free to leave requests yall i’m on summer break i have so much time and need something to do 🤩🤩)
(also i am still in love with luke castellan thank you very much I CAN FIX HIM PLSSSS)
(also very sorry to anyone named andrew it was the first name i thought of)
——————————————————
there wasn’t much that your siblings in the ares cabin liked more than winning capture the flag, but watching you tear down another boys’ ego was definitely one of those few things.
campfires were great for many reasons. singing, marshmallows, games—and bets. when chiron and mr d. turned in for the night early, something that rarely happened, the bets would come out. guys would try and talk to you, your siblings would intercept them, find out what they wanted, then place bets among themselves and with other campers as to how long it would take you to tear them down a few notches, or, on occasion, tear them a new one.
clarisse patted your shoulder as two of your brothers talked to another camper. “incoming.”
“details?” you picked at the chipped red polish of your fingernails.
“son of apollo. been here for about two months. andrew. something about wanting to go on a date with you and thinking you’re prettier than the aphrodite girls.” she rolled her eyes. “he tried it on with me before and doesn’t like taking no for an answer, so break his spirit completely. or, you know, his bones.”
you saluted her teasingly. “yes, ma’am. you can count on me, sergeant.”
she patted your shoulder again with a joking grin. “good on you, private. godspeed.”
with that, she left you sitting alone.
well, not really alone.
luke castellan had somehow ended up as your bodyguard in all of these cases. probably something to do with the fact that you’d been dating in secret for the last three months. you weren’t a huge fan of keeping your relationship a secret, but when you’d told clarisse, she told you that her and your other siblings wanted to keep making easy money, and betting on me was the best way to do that. since everyone thought you and luke hated each other anyway, it was easy enough to keep it up, but as your mocking remarks turned to teasing, then to flirting, it was getting more and more difficult. and as he was getting more attractive each day, it was getting harder not to kiss him in front of everyone at camp.
you swivelled in your seat to look up at him. he was sitting three rows back, almost hidden in the darkness, a distinctly put out look on his face.
“you hear that?” you asked with raised eyebrows and a grin on your face. “he thinks i’m prettier than the aphrodite girls. when have you ever said that?”
“i told you you’re prettier than a model one time and you punched me,” he said dryly. “and then i said you look like a goddess while fighting and you punched me again.”
“in my defence, i did hate you at the time.” you shrugged. “got my back?”
“always.” he said seriously.
you grinned and winked at him as you turned around, waiting for the newest idiot to come annoy you.
luke had, once upon a time, been one of those idiots in your mind. he irritated you to no end. he was better than you at sword fighting, so you bested him at everything else. he was more popular than you, so you became one of the most well-liked people at camp. all of your attempts to break him down, however, only made him fall in love with you. now, there you were, wishing you could be sitting beside him instead of waiting for some loser to come annoy you to death.
“y/n, hey.” andrew said, sitting next to you, probably a little too close.
you looked over at him. “andrew, right?”
he nodded, his smile widening as you knew his name.
you sat up straighter and scrutinised him, looking him up and down. “yeah, you look like an andrew.”
you heard luke hide a laugh in his cup behind you.
andrew’s face fell a little, but he regained it quickly. “heard you were one of the best fighters in camp.”
“i am.”
“that’s pretty cool. i mean, i can help you become the best if you want.”
“no, i think i’m okay.”
“come on, i mean, everyone needs to improve. even the self-proclaimed best. bet i’m better at archery than you at least.”
you looked over at his smirk and had to stop yourself from smirking too. this would be too easy. “no. thanks, though. i’m good on my own. one of the best, remember.”
“you could be better. we should have a little challenge. a game.”
“i only play games with people i like.”
“you could like me.” he leaned a little closer. you leaned away slightly. “i bet i could make you like me.”
you had to stop yourself from laughing. “yeah, i don’t think so, buddy.”
‘buddy’ was usually all it took to break a man’s ego. you’d used it on luke many times during unusually flirtatious sparring, back when you still pretended to hate his guts. it didn’t work on him anymore, but it usually worked perfectly on everyone else.
andrew didn’t falter. “i bet i could. give me a chance. let me take on a date. show you a good time.”
“no, thanks,” you said calmly. your siblings were watching intently. clarisse looked ready to step in if you needed it. you wondered what he’d said or done to her to put her on edge. then you realised it wasn’t what he’d done to her. it was what he was about to do to you.
his hand was on your thigh, gripping onto the bare skin by the hem of your shorts.
his hand was on your thigh.
gross.
you looked up at him, eyes sharp. you could hear luke shifting slightly behind you. “what are you doing?” you voice was deathly calm.
“showing you that i can show you a good time, princess.” his voice oozed honey—sickly sweet and sticky, like a fly trap. good thing you hated honey.
“how about i show you how many bones there are in the hand? by breaking every single one.” your voice was equally as saccharine sweet, but your eyes were glaring daggers into his and your jaw was set tight.
he just shifted his hand higher. you tried to push him off but he was strong. annoyingly strong.
he tutted. “come on, sweetheart. you’re gonna make a scene.”
you finally managed to peel his hand off your skin. “i’ll make a scene, alright. get off me and leave me alone. and while you’re at it, leave my sister alone too.”
he raised his hands, a sickening, sleazy smirk on his face. “i was just being nice, princess. you and your sister need to relax. you especially. i can help you relax.”
“oh, i’d love that. you know how i relax?” you tilted your head mockingly, eyes hard. “i punch my enemies in the face.”
he laughed. “you’re cute. now, come on. it’s not like you’ve got anything going for yourself. i mean, you’re hot, sure, but no guys ever gonna look at you when they realise how much of a bitch you are. not like i will.”
you rolled your eyes and stood up. it was time to go and sit by luke. it grated at you, but if he wouldn’t listen to you, maybe he’d listen to another guy.
he didn’t let you leave. his hand gripped your wrist and pulled you back to him as he stood up too. you were chest to chest with him. he towered over you, at least six inches taller. you stepped back, but he pulled you in by your waist and laughed.
“look at how good we look together,” he smirked. “i could show you—“
you punched him in the stomach. he doubled over, finally letting you go, so you kneed his diaphragm. he gasped for air as you stepped back. your friend chris rodriguez whistled appreciatively.
“touch me, or anyone here, ever again and i won’t just hurt you.” you hissed at him. “i’ll beat your ass, then i’ll drag you past the boundary and leave you for the monsters. got it?”
he nodded, still hunched over.
“good boy,” you grit out.
“fucking bitch,” he grunted.
your eyes darkened, but you didn’t do anything. your siblings were right behind him, all ready to drag him away. “good luck walking tomorrow, andrew.”
“good luck finding a guy stupid enough to fuck you,” he scorned.
you laughed. “hey, luke?”
“yeah, babe?” he stepped down beside you, his hand settling on your hip and pulling you gently into his side. andrew faltered at the sight. he probably hadn’t even realised luke was up there.
“are you stupid enough to fuck me?” you asked with raised eyebrows.
he looked like he was trying not to laugh. “oh, i’m way past stupid.”
you didn’t care about any of your sibling’s bets anymore. you didn’t care that people thought you hated each other. you especially didn’t care that everyone was watching. you kissed him. and in front of the whole camp, he kissed you back.
your siblings groaned in disappointment, knowing their betting days were over, but you didn’t care. you smiled the stupidest smile ever as you pulled away, feeling like you’d just had your first kiss all over again.
“what?” he asked quietly.
“nothing.” you shook your head. “just glad we don’t have to hide anymore.”
after months of kissing behind buildings, pretending to fight in public and avoiding each other so people wouldn’t find out, it felt honestly freeing to kiss him in the open.
he kissed you again as your siblings dragged andrew away. “and all it took was an asshole.”
“thanks for not stepping in,” you said. “i had it handled.”
“oh, i know you did. i was more than happy to watch you destroy his ego.”
“good, because if you had stepped in—“
“i’d be going home in an ambulance?” he smiled.
“no, you’d be going home in a hearse.”
“ah, my bad.”
as the campfire kept burning, you sat down with luke. your legs were pressed against his and his arm was around your waist. there wasn’t much that you liked more than tearing boy’s egos down, but being with luke castellan was definitely one of those few things.
#luke castellan#luke castellan x reader#percy jackon and the olympians#percy jackson#pjo x reader#pjo#charlie bushnell#luke castellan x you
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sick — gojo satoru x f!reader
a/n: taking care of gojo cause he deserves it my baby :((
satoru forces his eyes open with a great struggle, but seeing your face makes it worth it. he presses a kiss to your forehead, before, reluctantly, peeling off the covers and heading to the bathroom.
his steps are heavier and his mind is a bit hazy. he figures quickly that he‘s caught a cold. but, like the idiot he is, he brushes it off cause what’s a little cold to the strongest sorcerer?
small coughs escape his lips every now then as he gets ready. he applauds himself for being able to do everything—despite the coughing fits—without waking you up.
finally, he tiptoes his way to your sleeping form to give you a kiss on the forehead once again. he takes a last look at your face and he smiles, one reserved for you only.
and so the routine is done! he is satisfied as he walks to the door, ready to act like his normal self that definitely doesn’t have a fever that is worsening by the second.
his hand reaches for the doorknob and, “satoru, where the hell do you think you’re going?”
he turns to you, a grin plastered on his face as he tries masking his coughs, “hey, hun! lovely morning, isn’t it? I was about to—“
“sit your ass back down.”
“yes ma’am,” he mumbles, looking like a kicked puppy.
you roll your eyes before pulling him back to bed. but, of course, he tries to fight it, “y/n, I am fine, really!”
“no, you’re not,” you huff as you make him lay down on the bed and cover him with the blankets, “your breath is heavier and your face is flushed.”
you press a hand to his forehead before gasping, “satoru, you’re burning up! and you wanted to work like this?”
“hey! nothing the strongest—“ he coughs in between, “—can’t handle,” he smiles, trying to assure you, but you don’t buy it.
and you are about to retort, but satoru’s phone rings, cutting your thoughts off. the caller is one of the higher ups.
before your husband gets the chance, you snatch the phone and answer the call instead, “can I help you?”
satoru has given up fighting about it anymore and simply accepts his fate. he snuggles closer to your chest while you listen to whatever the old man is yapping about.
then you respond, “satoru’s not going anywhere,” you tighten your hold on him and he feels his flutter a little at your secure hold. when was the last time he felt protected?
the old man’s yapping turns into barking and his voice is like chalk scratching the board so you sigh and reply, tone giving no room for further discussion, “he is sick. also, why don’t you up your game a bit? you’re maybe double or triple his age? shouldn’t you be able protect yourself? anyways bye! rot in hell!”
you end the call with a smile before tossing the phone to the side. satoru smiles into your shirt, “that was hot of you.”
“oh shut up,” you grumble as you pat his head, “how did you get sick anyways?”
satoru takes a deep breath, brows furrowed before he replies, “one of the curses was related to ice…or whatever,” you hum in response and he snuggles into the crook of your neck.
seeing satoru all weak, maybe even helpless breaks your heart. he is usually so loud, so bright, but now he looks so tired, frail even.
you sigh as your fingers card through his hair. you would’ve preferred if his day-off was spent with him being his usual self rather than all sick like this.
though you can’t deny that a part of you feels a little happy because he trusts you enough to be completely vulnerable with him.
so you press a kiss to the top of his head and he stirs around a bit, words a little slurry, “…what’s wrong?”
“it’s nothing, but I have to go and make you some soup, satoru,” you say while trying to get up, but his hold on you tightens.
he voice is hoarse, barely above a whisper, “…stay.”
your heart clenches at the soft plea, but you know that he needs to be well fed so he can recover quickly, “satoru, honey, you need to eat so you can get better,” your hear him groan before reluctantly pulling way.
still, his hand is holding onto your own, and he looks up to you, eyes barely open, oh how you missed seeing those blue gems shinning as usual, even if they scared the shit out of you at night, “just don’t take long…please.”
you nod and press a kiss to the top of his head, “look at you being so polite.”
he grumbles, making you giggle.
you finally make your way to the kitchen. you hope that satoru can sleep a bit till you’re done with the soup.
you don’t feel the time as it passes, already invested in making the best soup for your sick husband.
after a while, you’re finally done. you give yourself a pat on the back before carrying it to the bedroom. you speak, voice low, “satoru?”
he turns in his sleep and slowly opens his eyes, smiling a little, “you’re back?”
“of course, I am, silly. I would never leave you,” and both of you know that those words hold much deeper meaning than it looks like.
you set the soup on the nightstand, “come on, you need to eat, honey.”
he stretches a bit before sitting up—the movement seems to cause him pain but he hopes you don’t point it out—, a wide smile on his lips as he looks at you, “my pretty wife made soup, just for me?” he coughs a little, “I am flattered.”
he sounds better, you note. that sleep must’ve done him good so you hope the soup will make him feel even better.
you take a hold of the bowl and satoru opens his mouth, expectantly. you quirk an eyebrow at him, “what are you doing?”
he closes his mouth with a pout, “you’re not going to feed me?”
he is finally back to his antics, you think as you narrow your eyes, “and why would I do that?”
“because I am your very sick husband who only wants to be pampered by his pretty—“ he is cut off by you shoving the spoon in his mouth.
he swallows the soup, satisfied, and with a grin so wide you’re thinking of smacking him for looking so smug yet so cute at the same time, “thank you, honey!”
you roll your eyes, albeit fondly, “yeah, yeah,” you huff as you feed him another spoon and the smile never leaves his face.
you also notice the little kicking of his feet. does being spoon-fed by you really make him this giddy?
“y/n, you know how everyone boasts about my strength?” you feed him another spoon and he hums in contentment before continuing, “I think my only weakness is you.”
“doesn’t that make you scared?” you inquire as you set the empty bowl aside and satoru wastes no time as he hugs your waist as snuggles into your chest, his favorite place, “having a weakness and everything.”
he shakes your head, “nope, it just makes me want to get even stronger so I can protect you.”
he thinks for a moment, “you got me wrapped around your pretty fingers and I don’t see anything wrong with that,” he then grins, looking up at you.
it’s silent for a while before you speak up, “satoru.”
“hm?” you practically hear the smirk his voice.
you deadpan, “did you just fart?”
“honey, I could never!” and satoru thanks the heaven that he is sick cause he knows that he would’ve been hit by every single pillow on this bed otherwise.
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hello! I hope you’re doing good! I would like to request a fic with tasm!peter parker or james potter if you prefer, but something where they’re making out and the reader ends up breaking his glasses? If that makes sense🫣
hi, my darling, i’m am doing very well! thank you for requesting, that makes complete sense! I’m totally watching tasm again after writing this <3
cw: fem!reader, making out, slightly suggestive (but not really), aunt may walking in, established relationship, fluff, 1.2k
<3
Peter’s mouth is on your neck while the bridge of his glasses rubs against the skin just an inch higher than his mouth. His hands stay firmly planted on your hips as you sit in his lap on his swivel chair. Your textbook and computer lay abandoned next to his on his desk in front of you.
“Peter, I have to study,” you mumble, but the sigh that escapes your lips makes your excuse less believable, “We have to study.” you add, trying you best to get yourself and peter back on track for a big exam tomorrow. Crazy for Peter or not, this test is important and you need to get a little studying in, but you can’t get Peter to keep his hands off you.
“No, we don’t.” Peter replies quickly, before biting your neck, causing you to let out squeak.
“Peter,” you practically whine, and the chuckle that falls from Peter’s mouth vibrates onto your neck, causing you to squirm in his lap. When Peter lifts his head from your neck, you’re pouting. Lips jutted out and eyebrows pinched together with pleading eyes. Oh, Peter could die right here with you in his arms. He pulls you closer, biceps and hands pressed into your sides and forearms into your stomach.
“You’re going to be fine,” Peter offers gently, pressing a much softer kiss to your cheek, allowing you to release the tension from your face, “You’ve studied plenty already.”
“But–”
“No, buts,” Peter shuts you down, gently rubbing your sides in an attempt to silence your worries. He wants to kiss you so bad, but he would never do it without your permission. And if you want to study, he’ll let you, but he doesn’t think you really do, “Kiss me?”
Peter hears you release a long, dramatic, sigh before shifting yourself in his lap so that you’re straddling him, his hands now stabilizing you by your waist. For a moment your face is expressionless and Peter can’t read you. He worries that you’re unhappy with him but when he sees a giddy smile creep onto your face, he instantly reciprocates and his worries melt away.
You lock your hands around Peter’s neck before leaning in to kiss him. At first, you kiss him softly, tenderly just because you love him. But when you lightly tug on Peter’s hair at the nape of his neck, he takes it as a sign to tug on your hips, pulling you flush against his chest and deepen the kiss. But when the bridge of you nose knocks into Peter’s glasses, you groan in momentary pain, causing his eyes to widen, hand reaching up to gently hold your cheek, the action asking if you’re okay. When you nod your head and meet his gaze, you notice his concern before it’s quickly replaced with frustration. Peter quickly tears his glasses on his face and tosses them towards his bed without sparing a glance in that direction. But when a soft crack echos from across the room, you snap your gaze towards the glasses that now lay broken at the bridge on the floor.
“Peter!” You gasp, shifting your gaze between him and the broken glasses, but no concern seems to be etched on his face.
“Don’t worry, I can get new ones,” Peter assures you, kissing the corners of your lips while his nose delicately brushes the apples of your cheeks, “I just wanna kiss you.” Peter whispers and you feel a rush of warmth spread across your face at his tone.
“Aunt May isn’t going to be happy.” You state, nervously glancing towards the door that Peter probably forgot to lock again.
“Shush, less talking, baby,” Oh god, you melt completely at the way his says baby and presses his finger to your mouth, before replacing it with his lips, “More kissing.” He adds in between a few quick, hard, presses of his lips on yours.
“Oh whatev—hmph!”
Peter kisses you long and hard, successfully getting you to stop talking. You feel hot all over when he kisses you again and again. And when you rank your fingers through his hair, lightly tugging on the ends, while simultaneously gently biting his bottom lip, Peter makes a sound between a gasp and a groan that makes you want to do it again just so you can hear the sound once more. There’s a kiss, another, and another, you’re so caught up in the feeling of his mouth against yours, carefully sliding your hands up and down his chest before lightly gripping a fist full of his shirt to keep him near you.
The way Peter touches you is like muscle memory, he knows how to make you gasp and what makes you shiver. When, his hands slip under the material of your shirt and caress your skin, your body reacts exactly how he knows it always does. Then, he lifts you up, your legs wrap around his waist, and with his lips still on yours, he gently lowers the both of you onto his bed. He seems so far away now and you can’t handle it. Before he even has the chance to lower himself further down onto the bed, you grab his biceps, which are tensed from holding himself up, and tug him towards you. Peter practically falls and suddenly the weight of his whole body is on top of you, Peter worries for a moment, breaking the kiss, but you make a noise, reminiscent to a childish whine before grabbing his jaw with both of you hands and pulling him back. With his lips on yours, his tongue slides into your mouth while your thumbs trace the outline of his jaw and his hand slides behind you back and into your shirt.
“Hey, do you two know where—Oh my goodness!” You and Peter are quickly pulled apart, turning your heads in the direction of Aunt May’s loud gasp. She stands just outside the bedroom with one hand still on the doorknob, her expression loudly displaying her shock. Peter stays on top of you for a split second, before May’s gaze shifts between his hand in your shirt and both of your disheveled appearances, “Peter Benjamin Parker!”
With that, Peter immediately jumps up from on top of you, quickly grabbing your hand to stand next to him. Both of your faces are flushed red from being caught, even if all you were doing was kissing. Aunt May stands by the door, both of her hands placed firmly on her hips, presumably awaiting a reasonable response while you and Peter glance at each other in search of something to say. When Peter’s gaze returns to his aunt, he finally opens his mouth to speak.
“Aunt May—We were just—” Peter pauses as he stumbles over his words, feeling pathetic under the eyes of both you and his aunt.
“Studying.” You finish with a somewhat convincing smile and when Aunt May turns to you, her gaze softens, but when she notices the broken glasses laying forgotten on the floor behind you, her questioning expression returns.
“And what happened to your glasses?” Aunt May asks, a triumphant smile crossing her face as she knows she’s caught the two of you red-handed in your obvious lie, “Were you studying when that happened?”
You and Peter hesitate, he sends you a nervous smile and the both of you bite your tongues, not trusting yourselves to speak. After a moment, the two of you nod, heads hanging low.
“Mhm, right,” May hums before sending Peter a look that says, ‘we’ll talk later.’ Then, she takes a few steps into the room, causing you and Peter’s eyes to widen, but May only steps around you to pick up the broken glasses before walking back towards the door, “Well, dinner is almost ready, you two better behave.”
“Okay, yeah, thank you, May.” Peter says, and you can tell he’s beyond flustered by the situation as he runs a hand through his hair, then brushes a finger along his bottom lip, “We’ll be down soon.”
May nods before sending the both of you one final look, this one a little more playful than the rest. She exits the bedroom and closes the door behind her, leaving you and Peter alone once again.
The both of you share a glance before breaking out in a fit of laughter. Peter falls back onto the bed, tugging you down with his so that you’re laying on his chest.
“I told you she’d be mad.” You tease, running your hand up his chest, eventually reaching the back of his neck, while leaving a gentle kiss on his jaw.
“It was so worth it.” Peter smirks before flipping you over and kissing your face
<3
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thank you for reading, my darling! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a smooch if you do, ily! send requests to my inbox!
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