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rafecameroninterlude · 2 days

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rafe + breeding kink

warnings: singledad!rafe, older!rafe (maybe like late twenties-early thirties), nanny!reader, rafe’s son calls you mommy, fluff, unprotected sex, dirty talk, mentions of pregnancy and having kids, creampie

a/n: breeding kink was so heavily requested omg, i love everyone who left a req for this <3 i definitely went a little overboard lol

“well, that worked like a charm.” rafe smiled down at you and his son who was currently cuddled into your side. “i don’t want to move away from him.” you pouted, running your fingers through the little boy’s hair. you had been doing this weird thing to rafe’s heart everytime he saw you caring for his boy, and he didn’t know what to make of it.

despite having been rafe’s nanny for nearly three years now, you still found yourself getting flustered every time you caught him staring at you. whether it was you folding laundry, or bending over to dust the entertainment center, all those little things were starting to add up into something both of you wouldn’t be able to come back from.

“do you think we could talk?” rafe helped you up from his son’s race car bed, a worried expression overtaking his features. “yeah, of course, is everything alright?” you didn’t miss the way he kept your hand in his, leading both of you downstairs after closing the door to little ray’s room. “yes, i actually wanted to talk about my salary-” rafe was quick to cut in.

“throw me a number and you got it.” he dropped your hand, ushering you to take a seat next to him. you laughed softly, shaking your head. “no, i don’t want more pay; quite the opposite, really.” rafe’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “you’re not quitting are you?” he heard his heart beating in his ears at your lack of response.

“no, god no!” you placed a hand on his arm, “i’ve been looking for another job because i don’t want to be paid for taking care of ray anymore..” you met his gaze, running your nails against his skin. “why?” rafe couldn’t wrap his head around your words, his eyes darting across your face.

“you know, i’ve been taking care of ray since he was two, and he’s going to be five next week.. i’ve grown so close to him.” you smiled. “caring for him, cooking for him, playing with him, loving him, it isn’t a job for me.” you didn’t realize you were crying until rafe wiped your cheek ever so gently. “you love him?” rafe’s voice was barely above a whisper, his own tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

“i do, rafe. i love him so much.” you sniffled. “he called me mom the other day and i felt terrible ‘cause i bursted into tears on the spot, and he thought he made me sad but i was just overjoyed.” you laughed, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “i want you to know that i’m not trying to take the place of his mother, i would never do that..”

rafe knew ray called you mom. it wasn’t too long ago that ray said, ‘mommy made my favorite pancakes!’ when rafe asked him about his day and made his heart damn near stop in his chest when he heard the word fall from his son’s lips. “you’re the closest thing he has to a mother. i don’t even know how to thank you for that.” he leaned in, embracing you tightly.

you two stayed like this for a couple moments before you pulled away, adjusting the collar of his shirt. “i called mrs. anderson to set up a playdate with ray and her son, and do you want to know what she said?” you stifled a laugh as rafe relaxed into the couch. “what?” he admired the way you lit up while talking about ray.

“she said that ray was a little more on the wild side and that it would be in her son’s best interest if they didn’t hang out anymore.” you watched as rafe shrugged. “that little nerd was too boring, anyways.” you gasped, slapping his chest playfully. “rafe!” you whispered, both of you covering your mouths to keep from being too loud.

he quieted down, sighing to himself before looking up at the ceiling, you following suit. “i do worry about that sometimes. i feel like ray needs more of a permanent friend, like a sibling..” he trailed off, glancing at you only to see you were looking at him already. “a sibling?” you raised your eyebrows. “how would you go about that?” you cleared your throat, trying to ignore the smidge of jealousy that settled in the pit of your stomach.

“want me to explain to you how babies are made?” rafe scooted closer, his arm draping over your shoulders. “no need, i’m well aware.” you waved him off. “yeah?” he guided you on top of his lap, both of you looking at each other with dark swirling in your eyes. “tell me, y/n, ‘you ever think about having little ones?” his large hands came up to rub against your thighs.

rafe felt as if he was approaching that line he’s been wanting to cross since the first time he interviewed you all those years ago. “yes.” you let out a shaky breath when you felt rafe’s fingertips move under your blouse. “you would make such a good mother, you’d want that wouldn’t you?” you cupped his face as his lips ghosted over your own.

you moaned once he finally kissed you, both of your clothes coming off before you could have enough time to think. “gonna fill you up and make you have my babies, yeah?” he laid you down on the soft cushions, running the head of his cock between your wet folds. “yes, please.” you mewled, eyes shining with lust as he took your chin between his thumb.

“fuck, you’re so beautiful.” he covered your mouth, muffling the yelp that left your lips when he entered you slowly, your silky walls welcoming him inch by inch. his strokes were slow and full of intention, his arms caging you in while you two shared the kind of kisses that made your head spin. “been wanting you like this for so long.” he cursed under his breath.

you whimpered, arms wrapping around his neck as you trailed kisses across his jaw. the intimacy of having his body flush against yours wasn’t like anything you’ve ever experienced, your soft cries driving him on the brink of fucking you senseless. “oh, my god,” you clawed at his skin, making him hiss as he tugged at the roots of your hair to make you look up.

“i can see it already; all three of us going to the beach and rubbing on your round belly, all pretty and pregnant.” rafe picked up his pace, your hips now moving with his to meet his thrusts. “i want that so bad!” you nearly screamed when he started toying with your clit, both of you holding onto one another like your life depended on it.

“jesus, fuck-” his movements came to a halt before he placed your legs on his shoulders, leaning down until your thighs met the cushions underneath you. snaking an arm around your lower back, you gasped when he started lifting you up, fucking you onto his cock so he could reach deeper than before. “r-rafe!” your mouth fell open, eyes blinking slowly.

with one hand still rubbing your clit, and the head of his length continuously hitting your sweet spot, you found yourself approaching the edge of euphoria. rafe can tell by the way you were clenching around him that you were going to cum soon. “hold out a little longer for me, baby. ‘want you to cum when i fill you up.” he pressed a kiss to your temple, hips stuttering once the band in his stomach snapped.

burying his head in the curve of you neck, he moaned against your skin as he stilled, the head of his cock nudging your cervix. you felt the moment he finished, the hot ropes of his cum filling you to the hilt as your thighs started trembling. rafe clamped a hand over your mouth, whispering a ‘let me feel you cum around me.’ before you obliged, your orgasm hitting you in long waves of ecstasy.

you laid helplessly, trying your hardest not to scream at the intense feeling in your tummy, your eyes rolling back as he rubbed a soothing hand on your side. rafe helped you come down from your climax, the aftershocks of your orgasm making your body jolt with every stroke of his fingers against your skin. he stayed nestled inside of you, both of you embracing each other as your breathing slowed, sleep weighing heavy on your eyelids.

“you did so good for me, are you feeling okay?” you blinked up at him, a smile making its way to his lips when he saw the fucked out expression on your face. “mhmm, ‘don’t think i could get up though.” you hissed once he pulled out, watching as he slipped on his pants. “let’s get in the shower, you’re staying here.” he helped you up, putting his large button down over your shoulders.

rafe carried you upstairs, tiptoeing past ray’s room before both of you got in the shower, round two well underway. it wasn’t until you were laying rafe’s bed, adorned in one of his t-shirts that you two heard little ray’s voice outside the door. “daddy? can i come in?” rafe rubbed a reassuring hand on your arm, shouting a ‘yes, son!’ before ray strided inside, running up to you excitedly.

“can i sleep in here, pleaseee,” you embraced him, telling him yes before rafe could get the chance to tell him otherwise. “are you sleeping over?” the little boy peered up at you, wasting no time in settling under the comforter of rafe’s bed. you giggled, flashing rafe a look. “yes, i am.” ray looked over at his father, studying him for a minute.

you watched them have a silent conversation with their eyes, the scene making your heart melt. “goodnight, daddy,” he patted rafe’s chest, “..goodnight, mommy.” he pecked your cheek, the waterworks threatening to spill over at any moment. rafe reached over, taking your hand in his before he pressed a kiss to your knuckles. “goodnight.”

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strang3lov3 · 2 days

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Click Here

You and Joel both know how he got that virus on his computer, and you can’t help but to relentlessly tease him in more ways than one…until Joel’s had enough.

Alternatively, Joel should really stop clicking on links that Tommy emails him. (7.6k)

Tags - neighbor!joel, grumpy!joel, pre/no outbreak, porn watching, joel straight jorkin’ his peanits, teasing, lingerie, handjobs, upside down blowjobs (like what happened in spider man), rough sex, manhandling, oral (f receiving), come eating, fingering, overstim, soft dom!joel, porn watching, reader has a bush but is otherwise not described Fic Help - @joeloverture, @joelsgreys, and @endlessthxxghts for their beautiful brains, and @noxturnalpascal and @beefrobeefcal for editing and patiently explaining dial up internet to me for this fic 🩷👾📀🖥️ Patti, I seriously cannot thank you enough. You made this fic fucking perfect. A/N - sorry for the delay on getting joel out to you in a timely manner, he should be cumming a lot more frequently…maybe. I do have a vacation I’m leaving for in less than a week. Also, thank you for all the well wishes and participation on my anniversary/5k celebration, I love you all so very much 🩷

masterlist

You know what you came here for. Grumpy, technologically inept Joel fucking the daylights out of you below 👇🖥️🦠🛜👾😍🍑👅💦🍆

It's early evening on a Saturday and finally time for Joel to enjoy his day off. He spent the day doing yard work, grocery shopping, and chauffeuring his daughter to and from soccer games. Saturdays are never really very relaxing for him, so when he has a quiet moment, like right now, he takes advantage.

Joel draws the curtains closed in his kitchen as he stares at his computer setup and contemplates, even though his mind is already made up. It’s a sign - there’s a Victoria’s Secret coupon set that’s been sitting on his kitchen counter since this morning, addressed to you of course. Damn mailman can’t get anything right.

He sits down on the chair in front of the monitor and powers the machine on, opens the tower’s disc drive and inserts his AOL CD before opening the matching AOL application. He has a post-it taped to the bottom of a drawer next to him that he reads from every time to remember his username and password. Joel grumbles to himself as he unzips his jeans, something about ‘damn thing’s always takin’ too long to load’ as the screen goes from dialing to connecting to connected. Netscape takes even longer to load, but when it finally does Joel visits his favorite website, victoriassecret.com. He works his half-hard cock in one hand, feeling it stiffen in his palm as the screen loads slowly, images of lingerie-clad models coming to life bit by bit. Joel groans and squeezes himself.

He knows that jerking off to Victoria's Secret advertisements is juvenile at best. He knows other porn exists, he’s got old dirty Playboy magazines from his teenage years and even some bootleg VHS tapes that his brother Tommy copied for him. He’s tried to watch them, but they’re all sort of sterile and awkward, the dialogue fake and the women’s moans exaggerated and over the top, it takes him out of the fantasy. They can also only be played on the television in the living room, which is not ideal for a number of reasons.

Joel also knows that the women in these advertisements are not real, that they’re airbrushed and photoshopped to the point of looking like Barbie dolls. He knows that they have more curves and body hair than what he’s looking at on his screen, that they have cellulite, stretch marks, and all of the other things he loves on a woman’s body. But Joel is nothing but a man, and a lonely one at that. A hard worker and a dedicated father, he doesn’t have much time for dating. And importantly to Joel, Victoria’s Secret advertisements allow him to do something his dirty magazines and bootleg VHS tapes can’t - use his imagination.

Oh yes, Joel loves when a little mystery is left for him, to pique his interests. He loves to imagine what the model’s breasts look like, if they’re more round-shaped, or like tear drops. Would they hang heavy, swaying when she moved, or would they point outward, petite and perky? How dark or light are their nipples and what would they look like when hard? He loves to picture their vulvas, to visualize what their folds would look like spread in front of him, to envision how they maintain their pubic hair. He wonders what they look like when they’re wet, lips all swollen. It thrills him, excites him.

His eyes are squeezed shut and he’s pumping his cock when a loud email notification from [email protected] interrupts him. “Fuckin’ Tommy,” he mutters, clicking on the popup.

here’s this for your spank bank pervert

No greeting, no goodbye, nothing capitalized and no punctuation. Just one blue link and nothing else. Joel rolls his eyes but clicks the link anyway, more out of boredom than genuine curiosity.

Just like before, it takes a moment to load but when it finally does, Joel blushes. It’s a porn site where people appear to upload their own porn. It seems expansive, all sorts of categories. Immediately, Joel’s intrigued - he didn’t realize that this kind of stuff was available online. He guesses that he probably should have known that, but rationalizes that he doesn’t use the internet much. His computer is meant for a few things - playing Microsoft Pinball, emailing clients, and browsing Victoria's Secret during times like this. But this - this might’ve just changed the game.

From the thumbnails, these appear to be real people. People of all ages, from young adults to older lovers. Nudity plastered across his screen in all different shapes and sizes, a variety of lengths and cup sizes before him. There are people consensually exploring kinks and couples in love, everyone engaging in a variety of different sexual acts from solo stuff to threesomes to orgies. This has it all, gay, straight, and everything in between. After scrolling through, Joel notices that there’s a little magnifying glass to search for whatever one may fancy. Joel clicks on this and he first searches ‘boobs’. Then ‘big boobs’, ‘small boobs’, ‘blowjobs’, ‘doggy style’. With each search term he types in, the screen loads with various videos of his request. And then, just for shits and giggles, he searches for his favorite - ‘lingerie’.

The results are everything he dreamed of. Forget Victoria’s Secret, this has it all. Women of different sizes and skin tones, all in various stages of undress. Some wearing bras and panties, others wearing lace babydolls and teddies. One particular thumbnail has his interest piqued, though. It’s a woman in a robe, leaning towards the camera so her cleavage is showing. “Let me strip tease you ;)” is the title of her video.

CLICK HERE TO WATCH.

She doesn’t need to tell Joel twice. Joel clicks the link and watches a little popup on his screen indicate that a video is downloading. Once downloaded, he opens the file and begins to watch the video. The woman featured is cute, he thinks. She’s a curvy redhead and she’s teasing, smiling - he likes that. Those Victoria's Secret models don’t smile like this. She lifts her lacy pink robe and shows her ass where there’s a cute little heart-shaped peekaboo cutout in her panties. Joel likes that too. Joel’s been absentmindedly stroking himself and he sighs in contentment. She’s about to open her robe, show him her breasts and–

Windows System Alert

Error Code: 0x80070070

Your computer has encountered a critical issue due to a potentially harmful program. This issue has affected system files and may cause instability or loss of data.

Please take the following actions immediately:

Save all work in progress.

Disconnect from the internet.

Run a full system scan with your security software.

For further assistance, contact technical support.

“Well, that ain’t right,” Joel mumbles. Joel clicks on the little red X in the top right corner to make it disappear, but the popup is right back where it was, blocking that cute redhead from giving Joel a virtual show. He tries closing the message again, it pops right back up. Growing slightly irritated, Joel closes the media player altogether and reopens the downloaded strip tease video. It won’t open. “The fuck?” He tries opening an old untitled document from months ago, and yet again he’s met with the same error message. The popup is arriving in multiples now, blocking his screen. It’s like whack-a-mole, the way he’s closing one and two more pop up in its place.

Joel’s out of his depth here, so he decides to consult an expert. He lives right across the street from a total computer whiz, so he’ll ask her for help. He tucks himself back into his jeans with a soft groan, zips and buttons his jeans before making his way to her house.

You’re vacuuming your floor when you think you hear the faint sound of knocking, so you turn around to see a figure standing on your porch through your window. It’s Joel. Devastatingly handsome, grumpy, single dad.

You and Joel got off to a rocky start when you moved into the neighborhood a couple years back. He used to hound you about letting your grass grow too long, and you’d argue back by telling him that it’s good for the environment. Growing tired of your protesting, Joel decided to start mowing your lawn for you, without your consent. Not that you really minded, he always wears his grass-stained white and navy New Balance sneakers, his few-inches-too-short denim cutoffs and an old white tank top, stained with grease and his own sweat. It clings to his body, outlining his soft belly. His slightly graying but dark, damp curls cling to his perspiring forehead as his thick thighs clench with every step he takes, pushing that heavy lawnmower up and down your front yard. You compensate him with glasses of fresh squeezed lemonade, offer him a cool wash rag that he wipes his forehead with, the sweat and water dripping down his temple, over the stubble on his jaw. Tensions softened then, and Joel’s been a nice neighbor to have ever since. He, his brother and daughter are good people.

You tap the button on the bottom of your vacuum cleaner with your toe, shutting it off before opening the door for Joel. He looks a little disheveled - he’s breathing heavily, pupils blown wide. “You busy right now?”

“For you? You know I’m always too busy,” you smirk, tapping your foot against his shoe.

“Yeah, whatever. Listen, I’m findin’ myself in need of your computer expertise. Would you be able to help me, darlin’?”

It’s the way Joel calls you darlin’, how he flashes those sparkling, chocolate eyes at you, bats his long lashes and smiles at you in such a way that you’re sure he’s deliberately trying to send you to an early grave. You’re wrapped around Joel’s finger but nevertheless, you work your angle. “My time is precious, Joel. How will you make it worth my while?”

Joel rolls his eyes, “Oh, give me a break. I’ll mow your lawn. Does that work for you, princess?”

“You already mow my lawn.”

“Yeah, and I’ll keep mowin’ it. How’s that?”

“Cheap,” you quip. But you still smile and close the door behind you, and Joel blushes as you unknowingly take the hand Joel was just pleasuring himself with in yours, swinging your arms between you playfully as you cross the street to his house together. Your skin tickles when Joel places a hand on your lower back, guiding you to his computer setup before pulling out the chair for you. You log into his computer using his own username and password, something you know by heart. Joel has forgotten his password so many times, he used to call you - at a minimum - twice a week to ask you what it was. The only solution to that issue was for you to write it down on a post-it note and stick it next to the monitor for him. He absolutely hates that you’ve made him put dollar signs and exclamation marks in his password. “Seems unnecessary,” is what he would say, annoyance lacing his tone.

You retorted with, “Well if you can’t even get into your own computer, how could anyone else?” and Joel shrugged and nodded.

Joel pours both himself and you a glass of ice water, then sits down at the dining room table behind you. “So it’s uhh…” he starts, interrupting himself to sip his water. “Got this error message thing when you click on a file.”

Clicking a file, you see the error popup Joel’s referring to. “I see,” you mumble, clicking on a few others. Joel watches your brows furrow in concentration, a frown painting your lips.

Oh, shit. Joel didn’t even think to delete that file. “W-what is it? Why’re you makin’ that face?”

“I’m diagnosing.”

Right. Of course you are. You haven’t seen anything you’re not supposed to see, because it’s not like the files would magically start opening for your eyes only. Right? “What’s the verdict, doc?” Joel jokes, hoping you don’t hear the way his voice wobbles slightly with anxiety.

You suck in a breath through your teeth, “Not good,” you reply. “All of your files are corrupted, I thin–”

Joel interrupts, “What’s that, what’s corrupted? Is that bad?”

“Your turn,” you interrupt back, cocking an eyebrow at his impoliteness. It’s very unlike him.

“M’sorry, hon. Go ‘head, sorry.”

Joel needs to get it together. He’s fidgety and high-strung. He needs to calm down. It’s fine. It will be fine. You’re gonna work your magic and you’re not gonna see anything you’re not supposed to see. When you’re done, you’re gonna go home and Joel will go right back to his private time as previously scheduled - that’s probably what his biggest problem is, he’s blue-balled himself and he’s all wound-up. Problem will be fixed, easy peasy.

“When did you say this problem started again?”

“Uh, just a little bit ago,” Joel answers, walking over to the sink and getting himself a glass of water. “Thirsty?”

“No, thanks. What websites do you visit?”

Joel watches you browse his files and mess with the system preferences on his computer. “The weather mostly, or Amazon.. Orderin’ books for Sarah.” Which is a total lie, but he justifies this in his head by telling himself that you don’t need to know what website he visits the most. It’ll embarrass you both. And actually, Sarah prefers to go to the library. She even went today.

“Anything else?”

Joel lies again, “Check the news from time to time, check my team’s scores.”

You hum in response and continue typing. Joel wishes he could type like that, watching your fingers effortlessly fly across the keyboard. He likes the sound it makes, the quiet clicking and the tapping of your manicured fingernails. “What about emails, you avoiding those scams I told you about?”

“Yes.”

“Clicking on chainmail?”

“I am not.”

“Not anymore,” you mumble under your breath. Joel rolls his eyes. You’ll never let it go, will you?

Chainmail is how you became Joel’s IT girl. For a couple of months, you’d received various emails from him that were just copy-paste chainmail messages. You know, the ones that say things like ‘Click here to verify your account information. Send to 10 friends and family members to verify their accounts as well.’ You’d just delete, delete, delete, and reply back asking him to stop emailing you these things. But Joel never stopped, day after day he’d send you chainmail. After receiving what felt like the eightieth spam email from [email protected], you decided to confront him.

Joel awoke from an accidental afternoon nap to rather incessant knocking coming from his front door. He opened it only to find you on his porch, where you then proceeded to invite yourself inside. “What happened to hello?” he asked, his voice all sexy and raspy and his eyes tired, lines indenting his face from laying on the couch. He yawned, running his fingers through his curls to try and tame the bed head. You wondered if he always looked this handsome when he woke up.

“Sorry, hi,” you corrected. “Need to borrow your computer. Please.”

Yawning again, Joel sleepily gestured to his computer in the kitchen. “Knock yourself out. Damn thing ain’t actin’ right, though.”

You powered the machine on logged in using the post-it taped to his wall, rolling your eyes and shaking your head. Upon logging in and connecting to the internet, you noticed all sorts of glitches. Not even your computer ran consistently smoothly, but Joel’s was a wreck. Popups and error messages of all different kinds littered the screen, blocking the cute picture of himself and Sarah he had set as the background. “Wow, I couldn’t tell,” you teased. “You have more errors than you do applications on this thing, Joel.” Joel only shrugged in response. “Come sit by me,” you said.

Joel pulled up a seat next to you. “I wanna show you something. Can I open your email?”

“Go right ahead, hon.”

You opened Joel’s email and found his ‘sent’ box, where the last sent email was addressed to you. You clicked it and it opened to his last sent piece of chainmail. “I’ve asked you to stop sending me these emails,” you told him.

Joel looked crushed almost, a look of puzzlement and what might’ve been hurt momentarily painting his features. “You have?”

“I have.”

The chainmail on the screen was a common one he’d send you, the one asking you to give up your information to protect yourself. “I was only tryin’ to be neighborly. I thought you’d like ‘em, y’know - want you to keep yourself safe.”

It was endearing, the way he explained himself. How he wanted you to stay safe. Your frustration dissipated, only to be renewed as you looked in his spam folder to find all of your replies to him in there instead of his main inbox. “Joel, why am I in your spam folder?” you asked, sighing. Joel simply shrugged and you didn’t even have words. By the look on his face, he probably didn’t even realize he had a spam folder, much less knew what one was. But you had greater concerns. “What are those emails supposed to keep me safe from?”

“Well, from…” Joel’s mouth hung open as he thought about it, looked up and to the side as he began to realize he didn’t have an answer. “Uhh–”

“You don’t know, do you?” Joel shook his head. “Exactly. It’s called phishing, these emails you’ve been sending me aren’t real. They’re trying to get peoples’ personal information, like, look–” you pointed to the screen, showing Joel an example, “See? Here, it’s asking for your bank information.”

“And I wasn’t ‘sposed to give them that?”

You tilted your head in disappointment, “Joel.”

Joel groaned and leaned back in his chair, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Yeah, I know. Fuckin’ idiot.”

You were about to tell him to call his bank, but he was already on it. He pulled his Nokia phone from his belt clip and called his bank to explain the situation. As you went through his inbox and deleted each and every one of the hinky-looking emails, you listened to Joel on the phone.

“Didn’t realize there were these uh…email scams…Yeah, that charge was me. And that too…

…Will you call me f’ya see anything suspicious? Okay.

…Okay. Thank you, ma’am. Thank you. You too.”

From what you heard of the phone call, it seemed that he was safe. You guessed that Joel’s technological ineptitude is probably what had saved him, that he likely mistyped or misunderstood what the scam was attempting to do. You continued to delete scams and other malware-adjacent things from his computer as Joel hung up the phone call and sat back down with you. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, s’all good.”

Joel looked shaken, though. You touched his hand sympathetically and gave it a gentle squeeze. “You’re gonna learn some internet safety today.”

“Figured. I need it.”

“Yeah, you do,” you smiled. You went through his email, pointing out all the different scams. You told him not to click on links that look like this and that. This is a scam, this is too. You told him that anything attempting to sell fireworks, guns, or anything else at the low, low price of x amount isn’t real. And no, these emails here do not mean that you won a new TV or the lottery or a cruise. Anything that seems too good to be true definitely is. “...Actually,” you began, “All of these are from Tommy. New rule, don’t click on anything from Tommy.”

“Noted,” Joel replied. “I didn’t know any ‘a this.”

“Most people don’t. It’s new, yet. But you know now, so it’s okay.”

Joel breathed a sigh of relief, but he still looked overwhelmed. This time he took your hand and squeezed it. After a moment, he asked you where you learned all of this from. You explained you picked a lot of it up in school, just learning things here and there. Joel let you talk about it all and seemed genuinely interested and impressed.

“I went through and fixed all that was giving you trouble, by the way. Your computer should be running smoother,” you said. “And I changed your password. ‘abcde’ is not a good password, Joel.”

From that day forward, you became Joel's official computer girl. He’d call you and have you help him when he couldn’t get his computer connected to the printer, when he screwed with the settings and the computer didn’t look or act the way he was used to. Even the most basic things, like whenever he had a new picture of himself and Sarah he wanted to change the background to. Not that you minded, you’d jump at any opportunity to poke fun at your handsome neighbor’s lack of computer knowledge.

“Did you click on any links from Tommy?”

Joel goes quiet at that, remembering your very specific rule to not engage with him over email. He looks down at his hands as he twiddles his thumbs together. “I might’ve…one or two, maybe”

“What kind of links?”

“There– Fuck, I don’t know. You know, just…websites. They take me to websites. But I don’t give ‘em my information,” he insists.

“What’s on these websites?”

Joel thinks fast. “Truckparts,” he answers too quickly, and the two words come out as one. “Just truck parts,” he says again, slower.

“Well, you must’ve been looking at some sketchy truck parts. You’ve got a virus.”

“Okay,” he says. “Figured as much. But you’ve fixed those before for me, haven’t you?”

“I have, but this one means business,” you reply, shaking your head. You start to type a bit, click the mouse as you go through and attempt to delete corrupted files, but it’s not working the way it should. You open Netscape and check the browsing history to see if that can clue you in as to what website could have done this to Joel’s computer. “You said it just started?”

“Just started, yeah,” Joel affirms.

Which…tracks.

Today, Saturday, June 25, 2003

5:06 pm https://xxxmyvideos.com/lingerie

4:54 pm https://xxxmyvideos.com/doggy-style

4:50 pm https://xxxmyvideos.com/blowjobs

4:49 pm https://xxxmyvideos.com/small-boobs

4:49 pm https://xxxmyvideos.com/big-boobs

4:45 pm https://xxxmyvideos.com/home

His search history is nothing but porn, which you’re 99% sure is exactly what caused the virus. The time stamps all show that the site was visited within the last hour, and Joel says it just started, so…

“What’re you lookin’ at?”

“Well,” you say, hesitating before answering fully. “I am looking at your search history.”

Joel stares at the monitor like a deer in the headlights. “There’s - my uh…” he swallows thickly, “They keep records of that?”

“Mhm.”

“Well I told you - just….lookin’ at parts,” Joel’s hand wobbles slightly as he sips on his water.

“Yeah, lady parts.”

Joel sputters on his drink, choking and coughing as he slams the glass down and water spills everywhere. He uses the bottom of his t-shirt to clean his mess as he begins to turn red, feeling his chest and neck and cheeks begin to warm. He can’t even look at you, but he hears your giggles and he can picture your smug grin and he wishes so badly he was dead right now. You’ve seen it all, you know everything. You know it and so does he. He’s gaining the courage to look at you and oh god - you’re scrolling through the dirty website. Giggling, you’re looking at everything he looked at, fucking everything. You’re seeing the same dicks he saw, the same pussies, seeing the purple links that indicate exactly what he’s already clicked on. “Yeah, laugh it up,” he says angrily, defensively. “Ain’t that funny.”

Joel’s world is ending, but it’s really not as bad as he thinks it is. The porn is tamer than what’s often found on the internet, much tamer than the shit you watch. You continue to explore the site as you listen to Joel tell on himself behind you.

“It’s just somethin’ to pass the time,” he says. “It’s natural, alright? And I know you do it too.” He’s deflecting. Even still, he’s not wrong, you certainly do take part.

You just let him keep talking, relishing in having the upper hand in this situation. “You’re blushing,” you tell him when he quiets down, just to get him started and riled up again as you browse the site. You notice a lot of videos are duplicates, prompting users to download the same thumbnail uploaded by different usernames. Whatever Joel clicked on was probably not uploaded by a real person, though. He clocked on a gibberish username made up of random letters and numbers, unlike some other videos uploaded under actual names. Like Joel’s new found friend ‘cherry_girl_xo’, whose username link is purple. You smirk at that, turning around to look at Joel who definitely recognizes her. He’s bright red everywhere.

You’re sure this website is the culprit, but you check the rest of his search history to see if any other clue lies in there, but see nothing of import. All you notice are various links to victoriassecret.com, over and over and over again. Based on that and his last searched term on that shady porn site, you can safely assume he’s got a thing for lingerie. Which - funnily enough, you’re wearing right now. Not the kind of lingerie Joel’s been beating off to, but similar. You’re wearing your laciest undergarments, a lavender colored bra with a matching thong. They’re your laundry day underwear, you know the kind - five years old and been sitting at the bottom of your underwear drawer untouched for four of those years, not very comfortable and only to be worn when you’ve just gotten off your period and all of your cotton bikinis and boyshorts are in the wash. That kind.

After toying with Joel’s computer for a while longer while he twists uncomfortably in agonizing humiliation, you decide there’s not much else that can be done. “I think we have to wipe it all, Joel,” you tell him. “Delete everything and start fresh.”

Joel nods quietly. “Will I still be able to play pinball after?”

“Yeah, I’ll make sure you can play pinball,” you chuckle.

“Wipe it, then.”

And so you start the process, which will take a long while. The screen loads and loads as you and Joel wait quietly. You look at Joel, who’s got an elbow on the table as he rests his forehead in his palm. “What?” he snaps, noticing you staring at him. You can’t fight the giggles from erupting. “Would you quit fuckin’ gigglin’ like that? You know that a man’s got needs and I ain’t hurtin’ anyone–” You contort your lips into a forced frown, pressing them into a thin line and then covering your mouth to keep your laughter at bay, but you’re struggling. Joel can see the amusement still sparkling in your eyes and says your name in a warning tone.

“I’m sorry,” you smile, raising your hands in surrender. “I won’t laugh. I’m sorry, Joel.”

“Better be,” he grumbles. He drinks the last of his water quietly as you think about something, something that’s been heavy on your mind for the last couple of minutes. What if Joel knew what you were wearing beneath your clothes? You’ve made this afternoon absolute hell for him and you know that - but you don’t care. You’ve had too much fun getting under his skin to stop now.

The real dirty work begins when you unzip your sweatshirt and hang it over the back of your chair. When Joel looks at you, you bring your hand to your shoulder and gently pull up on your bra strap, letting it snap your shoulder.

Joel shifts in his seat and clears his throat, “You warm or somethin’?”

“Yeah, it’s a little hot in here.”

“Mm,” Joel spins his now empty glass between his thumb and pointer finger. When he looks back at you, he flips the glass. You’ve pulled the top of your tank top down, your lacy bra and cleavage on full display. He tries to make two moves at once, catch the rolling glass and cover his crotch because he’s just gone erect. “Cute. I would appreciate it if you’d knock that off now, I get the picture. S’real funny,” he mutters as he scrambles.

“What picture?” you ask innocently.

“Oh, don’t you start. You know exactly what damn picture,” Joel snaps. “You figured it out. Got a certain fondness for ladies in lace. You feel clever or somethin’?”

You really can’t bite back your smile this time, “Mhm.”

“You shouldn’t. You’re exploitin’ my vulnerabilities, takin’ cheap shots and–” Joel’s jaw drops as he watches you unbutton your jean shorts and show off your panties, the little bow at the center of them nicely on display. His look of shock quickly turns into a glare as you take off your tank top. “Like that, that’s playin’ dirty. Put your shirt back on and zip yourself back up. What the hell’s gotten into you?”

“I dunno,” you shrug. You really don’t. This is just as surprising to you as it is to Joel, but the look on his face tells you that you’re definitely having way more fun than he is.

“God, you’re killin’ me,” he groans. The way you’re so cavalier about this all has Joel both flummoxed and irate.

But you’re not this bold usually, not really. Joel must not have noticed the way your hands have been trembling, must not have heard your slightly shaky breaths. He’s been avoiding eye contact too much to notice you’ve been doing the same. “Why?”

“Why? Cause I’m only a man and you’re gettin’ me all worked up. You’re takin’ advantage of me and my biology,” Joel gestures angrily to his crotch. He’s not even bothering to hide it anymore - you’ve seen it all and know what you’ve done to him. “You proud?”

“You’re–”

“Yeah, I’m fuckin’ hard - been hard. Didn’t get to take care of myself ‘cause of the fuckin’ virus and here you are teasin’ and temptin’ me and…Hon, what’re you -” Joel’s angered expression turns to momentary confusion when you stand up, then turns to contentment when you straddle his lap. You press your core into his thick bulge, holding onto his shoulders for stability. “What are you doin’?” he sighs, his head falling backward.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “For teasing.”

“Yeah, so you say, princess.”

You grind yourself on his lap and when Joel brings his head forward to search for your eyes, he notices how your eyes flicker away from his. Like maybe you’re not as in control of this situation as you appear to be.

“I am.”

“Mm,” Joel hums. You’re reaching between your bodies and fumbling with the button on his jeans. He sucks in his soft belly to unbutton them for you, wraps his strong hand around your wrist and brings your hand to his mouth. “Gimme this,” he mumbles, spitting into your hand before he shoves it under the waistband of his boxers. A pang of arousal floods your gut at the action.

You palm his warm, heavy cock, feeling him thicken in your hand, though he’s already so hard. You can feel his rigid member throb and ache as you work his shaft up and down, up and down, your knuckles brushing against his thatch of coarse curls and his tummy. It’s evident how much he’s needed this, what with the way his chest rises and falls with his heavy breaths, soft groans escaping his lips as he does so.

Joel enjoys himself as you work him. “Fuck,” he whispers. You look down between your bodies to admire his member, the blushed, leaking tip and the thick and prominent veins. And he’s so smooth, his skin almost silky. You watch his blissed out face, contemplate kissing those pink, pouting lips of his. You’re gonna do it, bringing your face close to his. Brushing your lips ever so softly over his, Joel moves to kiss you fully when you pull back. His computer makes that signature Windows startup sound,

“I have to take care of that,” you murmur. You dismount Joel and he picks up where you leave off, stroking his own cock just like you were. He watches your nearly naked body with hooded eyes that flutter shut as you work, typing quietly on his keyboard. You set his username and password the same, make sure that things open as they should. For Joel’s own protection, you block [email protected].

“Finished?” Joel asks as you stand up from your seat in front of his computer.

“Mhm,” you reply, gripping his shoulder with your hand as you bend over halfway to pick up your discarded top and kiss his cheek. “Have fun with your Victoria’s Secret girls, Joel.”

Your work here is done. You’ve fixed Joel’s computer and by the look on his face, broken his heart. “What are you doing?”

You smile, too proud of yourself as you begin to walk away. Before you can walk further, Joel stands up and reaches across the table, grabbing you by the forearm and forcing you onto your back. “You ain’t gettin’ away from me that easy, princess,” he says. “I still got somethin’ that needs fixed.” Joel displays strength but is as gentle as can be, though the cold, hard wood against your spine and your shoulder blades hurt you for a moment. Your eyes widen in shock, but it’s a welcome pain. “Knew you weren’t fuckin’ sorry,” Joel spits. Your head dangles off the edge of the table and Joel uses a hand to open your mouth, forcing two of his thick fingers inside. Instinctually, you curl your tongue around the digits, sucking and licking. You can taste his cock on his fingers from when he was pleasuring himself just moments ago.

Joel pumps himself in his hand for a second before guiding his thick head to your lips, pushing past them in one quick thrust, right to the back of your throat so you gag. He likes that noise. “I give you an inch,” he grunts, “And you take a mile.” You slide your tongue over those thick veins of his you’d previously traced with your fingertips. Joel draws out of your mouth slowly, allowing you to lick his weeping slit before pushing himself back in. “It would’ve been courteous of you to keep my dirty secret to yourself, but you couldn’t even do that. Went an’ humiliated me instead, then you got the nerve to try ‘n leave me high and dry? I don’t think I deserve that.”

Joel wants to fuck your mouth until your lips are raw and swollen, show you just what he thinks of your stunt. But he demonstrates self control, allows you to take him at your own pace and yet, you continue to tease. It’s like it’s innate or something, the way you continue to only give little by little, savoring the saltiness of his precome. He gives you one last warning, “You really should learn when to quit while you’re ahead, hon.”

You persist anyway. Wrong move. Joel fucks himself into your mouth with no regard for your comfort, taking what he needs from you. It’s sloppy and messy, his heavy balls bouncing off the tip of your nose. You wish you could see him, see the way he’d glare at you. He’s flipped like a switch, previously holding himself back from having his way with you like he wanted to. He’s taking it now. All the softness in him is gone, and you fucking love it. You reach forward, sliding your hand down your stomach, dipping it beneath your panties. You spread your legs wide and your fingers hover over your pussy, feeling that wet heat radiating from your core. Just as you let your fingers drop to touch your aching clit, you feel Joel lunge forward and pull your hand away. “Nuh-uh, not where I eat. Where are your manners, princess?”

He fucks your mouth relentlessly, holding the sides of your head in his big hands. He watches the way your lace-covered tits bounce with his every thrust. He pushes himself deeper and deeper, ignoring your sputtering and choking on his cock. Your eyes prick with tears as your jaw begins to ache, really fucking ache. Joel doesn’t stop himself, and it’s not like he would if he knew you were crying like this. He fills the air with his own grunting and groaning, relishing in the warmth of your wet, soft mouth.

And then he’s done. No slowing to a standstill, just abruptly pulls out. You hear his heavy footsteps as he rounds the kitchen table, hooks his fingertips beneath the waistband of your shorts and pulls them down, pulls your hips close to his so your face is no longer dangling off the edge. He pulls your panties to the side, drags his thumb up and down your slick folds and it’s like the quiet before the storm.

He notches himself in your entrance and pushes himself in, inch by inch by inch. Slowly, deliberately, so that you feel all of the stretching and aching he wants you to. “Joel,” you cry. “Fuck, Joel, please, I can’t��”

“You’ll get used to it,” he purrs. He leans over you as he fucks you slowly, holding your neck with his thumb on your jawbone while he kisses you to quiet you down, licking into your mouth and swirling his tongue around with yours. You whimper softly into his mouth with his every thrust, the pain not yet completely dissipated, but pleasurable in its own way. “Spread your legs. Wider.”

You open yourself up for him, allowing him to fuck himself deeper into you. You accept it all as he wraps your legs around his waist, your heels bouncing on his ass. The head of his cock kisses that sweet spot inside of you, pleasure beginning to take over your senses and you moan. “Fuck, Joel.”

“Feels good, don’t it? Maybe this whole virus fiasco was a blessing in disguise, darlin’,” Joel says, “Feels good f’me too.”

You cry out loudly when he puts your legs up on his shoulders, the new angle has him inside you even deeper than before. He sits you up a bit, putting your arms behind your back and pressing your palms down flat on the table with his own.

He draws out of you and fills you up again, over and over and over. “Fuck, look at us,” he kisses your ankle a couple of times, “Look,” Joel looks down where your bodies meet and you join him, watching how his cock slides in and out of you, all wet and coated in your slick. Panties still pulled to the side, your skin is irritated where the fabric tugs and scratches at your skin. He maintains a quick rhythm, rolling his hips into yours.

“Make me come, Joel, I want to come.”

“Oh, I’ve got no doubt you do. But maybe I’ll leave you high and dry like you were gonna do to me, see how you like it. What a waste that’d be, huh?” You whine at the threat and Joel smiles deviously, he likes having you at his mercy like this. All pathetic and begging for him to let you come undone. “You’re nothin’ but talk, aren’t you?”

“Make me come, please.”

“You’ll have to convince me,” he says. “You heard me, convince me. Better make it quick.”

Your brain is short-circuiting, you can’t even process what Joel said and begin to make your case. You feel him twitching, his hips stuttering and before you know it, he’s spilling into you. He paints your insides with his hot spend, milking himself entirely in your cunt and your disappointment is incalculable. Tears of frustration well up and threaten to spill down your cheeks. It was all fun and games before, but you suddenly feel so used and betrayed. You can’t say he didn’t warn you.

“Ohh, I know,” he coos, wiping your eyes. “Bit off more than you could chew, didn’t you?”

You nod, sniffling quietly.

“You can still convince me. I’m all ears, ya know.”

“How?”

“Well,” Joel says. He’s beginning to soften inside of you, and so he pulls out with a soft ‘fuck’, his spend spilling out of you and onto his table. “Can start with an ‘I’m sorry, Joel’. And I want a real one this time.”

“I’m sorry, Joel.”

“S’a good start. Wanna give me some more? Tell me why?”

“F-for teasing you and stuff.”

“For teasing me and stuff,” he repeats your words slowly. Joel pulls off his t-shirt and folds it tightly, places it at the end of the table and lowers your head onto it. “You’re lucky you’re pretty.”

Joel kneels before you and wraps his arms around your thighs. He presses a kiss over your cloth-covered core, feeling the dampness of your arousal and his spend on his lips. He spreads your legs wide, exposing your wet cunt for him, lips all swollen and ribbons of his spend clinging to your folds. He admires the thick curls framing your pussy, “I gotcha,” he whispers. “C’mere.”

You gasp when Joel finally, finally begins to explore you, his tongue parting open your folds. He pulls back and pushes one, then two fingers inside you, humming in satisfaction at the way you suck him in, so eager and needy for his touch. He curls his fingers inside of you slowly, watching how you react to his touch. You twitch and jerk as you try to keep yourself still.

“Oh, Joel,” you moan as he laps at your cunt, feeling that warm, sticky feeling flow through your hips. His mouth and fingers work together to bring you closer to your edge, humming as he rhythmically strokes that sweet spot inside of you. His tongue is so hot, wet, and firm as he drags it up and down your sex, circling your clit with the muscle. “Mmm, fuck. Oh, god.”

Joel doesn’t know what’s more satisfying, the sweet taste of this most private place between your thighs or the sounds of your pleasure as he eats you. He devours you voraciously, sucking one fold and nipping at the other as he curls his fingers, never faltering in their movements. With his free hand that’s not teasing your pussy, he reaches around and pulls the hood of your clit back to suck and lick the sensitive bud. His dark, slightly graying and wiry stubble drags across the skin of your inner thighs, scratching you gently. It’s building up quickly, that familiar feeling deep in your spine.

“I’m–” a moan rips through your chest and interrupts you, “Fuck, I’m–”

“I know, hon,” he whispers, escalating his efforts. He sucks, licks, and curls his fingers harder, feeling the slow build of you beginning to come apart for him. You come on his lips and spill into his hand as Joel works you through your orgasm. You’re a gushing, moaning mess, your hands fly to his scalp and you tug on his soft curls when he licks a stripe up the seam of your cunt. And then another, slower. Another yet, even slower.

You expect him to pull away from your center with a satisfied grin, his mustache and beard dampened by your slick. But he stays put, licking more long stripes up and down your pussy. Your thighs twitch and flutter uncontrollably and Joel holds you apart for him as he continues to tease, circling the tip of his perfect, aquiline nose around your clit.

“Too much, it’s too much,” you cry.

“Mhm. But you got one more in you, I know you do.”

“Joel–”

You think you might break. You’re not sure where you feel Joel’s tongue, you just feel him fucking everywhere. You don’t know where your orgasm begins and ends, just that by the time Joel decides you’re done, you’re in sweet agony and he luxuriates in the taste of your second release. He’s made such a pretty mess of you. He presses one last kiss to your core, “Yeah, that was a good one, wasn’t it?”

Joel pulls away from your center, wiping his lips on your thighs. His cheeks are flushed and his dark eyes sparkle. He lets you catch your breath as he fills a glass of water for you and brings it to your lips helping you to drink as your hands are still trembling from it all.

When the moment passes, you gather your clothes. You pull on your tank top and put your shorts back on. “Oh,” you say.

“Hm?”

“I blocked Tommy’s email, just so you know. He’s trouble.”

Joel chuckles. “You, my darlin’, are trouble. But that’s probably for the best, thank you for fixin’ my computer again.”

“It’s no problem,” you reply.

“Oh–” Joel grabs something from his stack of mail on his countertop and hands it to you. It’s some Victoria’s Secret coupons.“This was addressed to you. Ended up in my mail. Fuckin’ mail guy.”

You giggle quietly, what a curmudgeon he is. “Actually, I think you need it more than I do. You can beat off to your angels in analog,” you tease.

Joel rolls his eyes. “You just don’t learn, do you?” he says, taking the coupons back from you. “And actually, think I will hang on to this. Maybe I’ll even buy you somethin’ pretty an’ we can do this again soon.”

If you enjoyed, please reblog, comment, send me an ask, just tell me something nice <3 your words keep me motivated to write.

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gglitch1dd · 1 day

Text

Oh how I loved him

Past Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Context: You reminisce about your time with Katsuki

Note: Reader is currently married to Dilf Izuku but was with Katsuki in the past. Kane is Katsuki's son who is living with the Midoriyas.

"Did you love my dad?"

You paused at your crotcheting as you looked up at Kane. The blond boy held the TV remote as he sat on the couch near you, Koda sitting on his lap. You blinked, surprised that he would ask such a question.

Kane quickly got pink in the face, his ears glowing, realising what he had just asked you. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ask that. I-"

"I did." Your answer silenced him as he turned to look at you, his crimson eyes, so much like Katsuki's, wide and innocent. Beautiful and passionate. You smiled gently as you set down your needles in your lap. You sighed. "Your father wasn't a bad person. Not at all. He was loud sometimes, petty as a donkey, grumpy at least half the time, always complaining about something, would never shut up about wanting to be number one but..." You leaned back in your husband's recliner as you smiled as you stared up at the ceiling, old memories about your ex-boyfriend flooding you. "Oh... how I loved Bakugou Katsuki."

"You... you did?" You turned to look at Kane who looked eager to know but was keeping himself seated for the sake of the little four year old green haired boy that napped in his lap.

You nodded your head. "He was a good boyfriend, a good man, despite how he seemed." You started. "And I've actually been meaning to show you something." You motioned for him to pass the TV remote, which he did. You easily caught it as you connected your phone to the TV and easily moved to your Cloud storage trying to find something. "Where is.... Ah! There it is." You tapped a photo.

On the screen was a picture of you much younger than you were now. A huge smile was on your face as you were dressed in Katsuki's large black skull t-shirt as he stood behind you shirtless. The both of you were a mess of flour but a huge smile that one couldn't have known possible, was on Katsuki's face. You caressed his cheek as you leaned against him.

"Your father has such a small heart, but when he gives it to you, its the warmest thing you'll ever feel in your life."

You lay on the bed, your phone facing down as you sat with a book in your hand. You heard the front door of your apartment open but you didn't bother to get up off the bed and go and see your boyfriend who had just arrived. You flipped the page as you tried to resubmerge yourself in the story.

With a heavy sound of his feet, Katsuki pushed open the door to see you sitting on your shared bed. The blond ProHero frowned as you didn't even look up at him. He held the strap of his work bag on his shoulder tighter as he settled his crimson eyes on you. "Y/N." His gruff voice came out.

"Hm?" You let out with a hum, only glancing up at him for less than a second before looking back down into your lap. "Hello Katsuki."

Katsuki's frown deepened. "Come on Y/N, I'm sorry." He apologised. "Is that what you want me to say?" You didn't answer him as you flipped the page of your book. Katsuki let out a frustrated groan as he moved to drop his bag inside his closet before walking into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

Admittedly, Katsuki had had a bad day at work (and everyone in the DynaRiot agency could feel it). The reason for his bad day was because you were mad at him. Katsuki had spent another overnight shift when he had promised to spend time with you. By the time he had come back home at an unholy hour of the night, candles were burnt out, your favourite shared snacks were still on the coffee table and you were nowhere to be found but in bed, far away from Katsuki's side.

Katsuki admits, he had been so focused on chasing the Number One spot on the rankings, having just entered the Top ten with Deku, that he was putting time with you in the back burner. He would also admit that he had promised you multiple times this month to spend time with you but hadn't put in the effort.

You had every right to be mad at him.

Hell, Katsuki was mad at him.

Which was why he decided to try.

Katsuki wasn't sure half the time what he was supposed to do as a boyfriend, but he tried. Which is how he found himself in the kitchen setting things up and putting on an apron around himself. You hadn't move from outside the bedroom, no matter anything that Katsuki did, so now he was determined to try and spend time with you.

With the counter having everything you would need, Katsuki marched to the bedroom to where you were.

The door opened and Katsuki made a bee-line to you. You looked up from your book, a raised eyebrow coming onto your face. Before you could even speak, you felt large hands grab at you and hoist you up from bed. "KATSUKI!" You shouted as he hauled you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and marched straight out of the room. You wiggled, trying to get him to put you down, beating against his back to do so. "PUT ME DOWN! WHERE ON EARTH ARE YOU TAKING ME!" You shouted.

Katsuki went down the stairs and walked to the kitchen. He put you down on the tiled floor on your own two feet. He grabbed your apron, tying it around you before motioning to the counter.

You noticed eggs, milk, sugar, vanilla essance, everything you would need to make.... "Katsuki, what-"

"We're making cupcakes." He told you with a serious look on his face, not a hint of a joke on his lips. Then again, Katsuki was never good at joking.

Your face fell as you looked at him, not pleased by his attempt of bridging the gap between you. "And who said I want to make cupcakes with you?"

"Me." He stated as he grabbed the whisk and handed it to you. He moved over to the counter. "Now do you want vanilla or chocolate cupcakes?" He asked, minding himself as he grabbed two eggs and began to crack them.

You rolled your eyes. "I don't want cupcakes, Katsuki."

"Chocolate it is."

"Katsuki, are you listening to me?" You asked as you put your hands on your hips.

Katsuki moved to grab the milk and butter. "Pass me the flour, babe."

"Katsuki!" You frowned as you looked at the stubborn blond that seemed set on spending time with you this way. You looked at the open bag of flour. You grabbed a fist full. "Here's your stupid flour!" You shouted as you threw it at him, making Katsuki pause as white cake flour landed on his face and shoulder.

Your face fell as you realised what you did. You quickly slapped your other hand over your face as he slowly turned to you. He stared at you unblinkingly making you snort. You couldn't help the giggles that went through you as you tried not to laugh.

Katsuki raised an eyebrow. "Oh so you think this is funny huh?" He asked unamused.

"Katsuki I-" You giggled. "I'm so sorry. I-" You were interupted by a egg yoke landing straight at your chest making you freeze.

Katsuki stood with a wet hand that scooped up the eggs he had put in the bowl. He stood with a smug face as he stared at you. He tilted his head to the side, blond tufts of hair letting sprinkles of flour fall. "You know, I think I like you like this." You glared at him. You quickly lunged to the flour but Katsuki saw your plan. "Oh no you don't!"

You managed to grab a handful before he grabbed more. You threw it straight at his hair, making his hair more pale than blond. He threw the flour right back at you, making you gasp in shock. He quickly grabbed you and held you in his arms to stop you from grabbing more flour. You couldn't help but giggle as you took his hands and tickled your middrift.

"AH! Katsuki! KA- TSUKI LET GO OF ME! HAHAHA! OW! LET GO!"

"It's not funny now is it?" He asked with a loud laugh as he tickled you and held you in his strong big arms, lifting you off the ground so that you felt helpless. He managed to find the spot that had you squealing and squirming.

"AAHHHH!"

He laughed at you as he held you. "Say it! Say it!"

You tried to hold back but the tears in your eyes said otherwise. "I'm sorry! I'M SORRY!"

"and..."

"I FORGIVE YOU! AH- KATSUKI!"

He chuckled as he stopped tickling you, leaving you a giggling mess in his arms as he spun you to have your chest against his. He had a broad smile on your face as he watched the restless giggles and snorts leave your mouth.

He bent down to put his forehead against yours, allowing you to calm down as his thumb brushed at your hips. You opened your eyes to look into his own. You could tell his was sorry, you could tell that he was apologetic. You smiled as you cupped the side of his face, kissing his nose making him hum as he leaned in to kiss your lips.

Katsuki sometimes didn't have the words to say what he wanted to say. But his eyes and actions spoke enough for him.

He hummed as he leaned back. "You're my everything." He let out lowly.

You giggled as you nodded. "I know. You can't live without me."

"I can't."

"I'm glad we both agree." You grinned with soft giggles stumbling out of your chest making him laugh as he pulled you into his arms again.

You chuckled as you leaned back. "He was so petty! I honestly don't know what is up with me and falling in love with petty men." You recalled making Kane laugh.

"What about petty men?" Izuku stepped in, dressed in home clothes but holding his work bag as he was now in sight.

You smiled. "Izuku! How was work? I was just telling Kane some stories about his father." You told your husband.

You watched your husband's eyebrows raise. Kane hadn't spoken a word about his father or how he was feeling towards Katsuki since he had moved in with your family after being kicked out. He glanced between you and the blond boy on the couch. He smiled easy, not feeling worried at all. "Let me put down my things. I should tell him about the time me and Kacchan got caught fighting in Delta in the middle of the night for the fourth time by Sensei Aizawa."

"Fourth time!?" Kane asked shocked.

You giggled as you leaned back. "Izuku was a problem child."

"Hey! I wasn't a problem child I was just..." He walked over to you, leaning down. "Different." He offered up. You looked at him not convinced making him chuckle as he leaned down and kissed your lips. He smiled as he walked over to Kane ruffling his blond hair, making the blond scowl. "To be fair, your father started it."

-Glitch1d

#bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #dilf izuku midoriya #dilf izuku x reader #katsuki x reader #katsuki x you #katsuki bakugo #bakugou katsuki x reader

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reiderwriter · 3 days

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🔐 Password Protected 🔐

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024

Requested: "Hii Kacie, may I put in a request of a NSFW prompt? Any plotline or back story is fine I trust your talent :"> Reader's boobs/asscheeks recoill during sex turning Spencer on even more "I wish you could have my view right now" he grabs the phone to open the camera app."

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, DubCon Hidden camera, dry humping, free use, soft to hard Dom!Spencer, sub! Reader, creampie, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, implied oral sex, implied bondage, implied somno, pictures/ photos, degradation (slut, whore etc,) and pet names (Princess, sir, angel etc,), nipple play/torture, multiple orgasms.

A/N: Here's my second fic for the CM Kink Bingo 2024~♡ I'm definitely all over the board now, so who knows if I'I hit bingo this year, Imao? Anyways, I hope you enjoy~ And to my dear friend :"^ anon - thank you for your inspiring request.

Masterlist || Bingo Board

With a glorious lull in cases to close over the summer, the biggest mystery in the BAU was “What's in the locked folder on Spencer's phone?”

The man had made the (technologically inept) mistake of leaving his new phone unlocked on his desk in a bullpen full of criminal profilers. To say you'd all descended like vultures to a fresh carcass was putting it extremely lightly.

“What apps does he have? Five dollars says there's a dictionary app,” Emily joked, leaning over Morgan's shoulder to try and catch a glimpse of the screen. You were similarly perched at his other shoulder.

“He can probably recite the dictionary himself, and I don't think he'd know how to download apps,” you scoffed, scrolling up in the phone yourself to the app page.

“There's got to be something good in the camera roll, right?” Morgan said, clicking into it to find some dirt on the much too innocent Spencer Reid. Which is where you'd found quaint pictures of the sky, some pages from a book and the folder.

The one with a little lock on it signalling the boundary. Spencer had figured out how to use a locked folder - you'd be impressed if you weren't so curious about what was inside.

“Placing bets, people? My money is on work documents,” Morgan chuckled, losing interest swiftly in the phone and pressing it into your hands. “It's not like the kid has a lot going on romantically, right?”

You kept your mouth shut as the others nodded in agreement. While Spencer Reid may not have anything romantic going on officially, he definitely had something sexual going on. You'd been in his bed five of the last six days, losing count on the amount of times he'd fucked you into oblivion, using your body as freely as he wished, cumming inside of you to finish before washing off all traces of your coupling and cuddling upto you as you slept.

It wasn't quite a relationship, but dear god, did you never want it to end. You hadn't been so satisfied, so fulfilled (emphasis on the filled) in a long time.

“What are you doing with my phone?” You heard Spencer question from behind you, and you turned, trying to mask your embarrassment. You really didn't want him to think you were some obsessive not-girlfriend going through his messages, and almost dropped the phone like it was a bomb when your eyes met his.

“We were just debating what you could possibly have to hide in your gallery’s locked folder,” Emily laughed, clapping the man on the back and smiling up at him. “Help me win $20 and tell Morgan here that you made it accidentally and don't know the password.”

“Hey, I didn't agree to any bet yet,” Morgan laughed, kicking his feet up on his desk.

“Only because you know you're wrong.”

They bickered just long enough to let Spencer take a step closer to you, slipping the phone easily out of your hand and back into his pocket. His voice was low, his mouth close to his ear when he finally sated your curiosity.

“I think you may want to distract them from this topic, Y/N. I don't think you'll like it if they demand to see what kind of pictures and…videos I have in that folder.”

His tone wasn't suggestive, but it still lit a fire in your belly with the implication alone. You'd warmed his bed for long enough to know that you were the only one sharing it, but you didn't remember him taking any pictures or videos of you. Shit, had you been so desperate that you'd completely blanked him capturing a folders worth of images of you servicing his cock?

You took the hunt and stepped away from him, picking up a file quickly and glancing over it before turning to Emily. Distracting them with work was the only way to keep them off the scent and distract you must.

Even if it did mean you were inconvenienced with curiosity and lust for the rest of the day.

When you finally finished work, you practically hammered down Spencer's door, trying to get answers to questions he'd left hung in the air earlier. You were a visual learner, so you dearly hoped he'd answer by simply just showing you what you'd missed.

“Y/N,” he said, opening the door with a sweet smile, drawing you into the apartment with a slow, honeyed kiss. You felt him smile into you, his touch chaste enough around your arms to still your beating heart. You languished in the kiss as he pulled you on closer, shutting the door behind you as he opened you up to him, pulling you further under his spell than usual.

“I'm so happy to see you,” he said once he'd pulled away, feathering his touch across your waist, settling his hands in the crook just under your breasts, stroking the bottom of them with his thumbs. You were suddenly glad the man's hands were so large, sure that this one interaction was heaven on earth.

He almost distracted you from your purpose for coming here.

Pulling you to the sofa in his living room, Spencer pushed back a strand of hair, hooking it behind your ear as he let you straddle him wrapping your arms around his neck, your head falling comfortably onto his shoulder as you inhaled his scent.

“I'm not complaining that you're here, or anything, Y/N,” he said, hands roaming your body and stroking your ass as he spoke. “But did you have something to say? You didn't message before coming.”

You lifted your head to look him in the eyes before looking away out of embarrassment.

“Earlier, you…” you started, tongue going dry as he tightened his grip on your ass. He shifted slightly under you and you realized he was grinding his leg up into your clothed pussy as you spoke.

“Yes?”

“Your phone…the locked folder, I want to see what's inside.”

You were sure that he knew already what you wanted before you'd even arrived, but he just smiled at you again, almost too kindly.

“That's my private business, Y/N. Why should I let you see it?” He asked, looking good a finger under your jaw to make you look him in the eye once more.

“I th-think… I think there are videos. Of me. I'd like to see them.”

“Where are your manners?”

“Please, sir,” you whispered, tipping your head forward, begging him for a kiss. “Please show me the videos.”

He huffed out a quick laugh and gave you one last peck on the lips before he pushed you off. You sat on the floor between his legs, a position you were so used to being in by now that you wouldn't be surprised to find multiple shots of you sat like this, lips wrapped around his cock, pussy grinding on his shoes. Even the thought of such pictures had you wanting to recreate those memories, you weren't sure what a folder worth is going to do.

Stretching over to his coffee table, Spencer picked up the discarded phone and unlocked it, flipping through some pages before looking down at you again.

Stroking your hair, Spencer neatly arranged it before wrapping the same hand he'd been using g around your neck and pulling you gently upwards. You landed back in his lap, but he'd turned you around this time. Instead of straddling him, your back was pressed to his chest, your legs on either side of one of his. He released your neck, instead pushing his hands between your thighs so you couldn't push them together for relief - he already knew your body so well.

“Is this what you're curious about, Y/N?” He said, finally flashing you the phone screen. The first picture was obviously taken post-sex, and you recognised his bed sheets quickly. Your face hung off the end of his bed, eyes shut as his cum painted your lips, cheeks and eyes, lips parted in a lusty moan. From the angle it was taken at, you could see your breasts swell and your hand disappear between your legs as well, stroking yourself to release.

“Shit,” you moaned, pussy clenching on nothing as it begged for relief. With a hand on your hip, Spencer started encouraging you to rock back and forward, humping his leg as he whispered in your ear.

“You didn't know about that one because your eyes were covered in my cum. It turned me on more knowing you had no clue I was going to jack off to it later as well.”

He scrolled to the next image, and in this one too, you seemed unaware of the camera. Your hands were tied to the headboard, and he was fucking you from behind, the shot capturing his creamy dick pulling out of you and the discarded condom on the bed beside you.

“That was the day we learned how much more you enjoyed being filled with cum than you enjoyed condoms,” he said, scrolling to the next picture.

“And here's your first creampie,” he said, his spare hand pushing under your shirt, fingers clamping down on one nipple as you shuddered.

Your pace was faster now, desperately thrusting up and down his thigh. Even through your skirt and panties, you felt your wetness against his pants, knowing you'd be punished later for such unladylike behaviour.

As if Spencer had ever wanted you to act like a lady. He knew you were a slut and he enjoyed it.

“The next one is a video,” he said, moving his hand to your other breast and slapping it as you moaned above him. “Do you think you can handle it?”

“Y-Yes, Sir. Please let me see it, sir.”

“Okay, but not a fucking noise out of you. I want to hear your screams from the video.”

You could only silently groan in reply, nodding quickly as he scrolled and pressed play.

This one was recent, maybe one or two nights ago. You recognised the outfit you'd partially discarded, the shirt that had been ripped open.

How had you possibly not seen the camera pointed straight at you?

In the video, his cock was pressed into you, fucking you at a pace most would call violent but you called heavenly. The focus wasn't on your pussy taking his cock, though, but on your boobs, recoiling and jumping with every thrust. His other hand pressed to your stomach, feeling himself sheathed there, as you moaned desperately.

“Spen…Spen-sher,” you tripped over your tongue, slurring the words as if you'd been drugged. Your eyelids were heavy, eyes practically rolling back in your head as his hand on your stomach tightened.

“I think I fucked your brain out, baby,” he laughed deeply, cock not relenting even one second.

“Your tits looked so perfect,” the Spencer of the present said, pressing the phone into your hand as he grabbed each nipple and tugged them forward, leaving you gasping.

“And you didn't even realize I was filming it all. I could've done anything to you, anything at all, and you wouldn't have cared. You'd have enjoyed it, and I'd have had the proof.”

You were soaked now, humping deliriously against his thigh, like a puppy experiencing their first heat, desperate for this feeling to go away and for it to stay and intensify all the same.

“You were acting so stupid. At one point, I even got you to say hello to the camera, and you didn't remember a thing an hour later.”

Releasing one breast, he swiped one more time to the left, and you saw the beginning of another video.

Hitting the play button, his hands returned to your chest, this time pushing up your top and bra and freely clamping down on the nipples as hard as he could.

What intrigued you the most about this last video was the start. Unlike the pictures and the videos, you weren't in the middle of sex at the beginning of this video at all.

You were instead laid with your back to the camera - to Spencer - a leg thrown over some unfamiliar sheets. This wasn't his bed. This wasn't yours either.

Another minute of grinding against his leg, and you recognised the motel room from your last case.

“Spencer, wh-”

“Watch and see, princess.”

The bed creaked under his weight as he climbed in behind you, removing the duvet covers from your body, replacing it with his hands. He made similarly swift work of your pajamas, only bothering to push them down to your knees before pulling out his cock and slowly pushing into you.

If you weren't so close to another orgasm, you'd probably be shocked that Spencer had invaded your personal space and started fucking you as you slept. But that's what it meant to be his little free use slut. You allowed him access to you anywhere, anytime (including the motel room you'd given him the spare key for) and in return he dropped as many loads of his cum into your pussy as would fit there.

Watching yourself get violated in your sleep was the last of what you needed to push over the edge.

You grabbed Spencer's arm, gasping, and you felt him trail kisses along your neck and shoulders.

“That's it, baby, just hold on a second while I…” he pulled the phone out of your grasp, opening yet another familiar looking app.

You looked at the screen and found your own bare chest heaving staring back at you. He clicked the red button and forced it back into your hands as he began abusing your tits again.

“Show the camera, Y/N. Show them how you get yourself off on my leg.”

You complied, lifting the phone slightly to get the best view of your chest, heaving up and down as you humped his thigh into oblivion.

Your cunt twitched and you felt fluids rushing out of you, even as your arms trembled. But you didn't let them falter holding g up the phone to capture every second of your climax, knowing its exactly what he would want.

“You're perfect, you know that Y/N,” he said, finally kissing the top of your head and pulling the phone out of your grasp as he saved the video into the file you'd been browsing.

His gentleness was short-lived, though, as he pushed you off his lap and back to the floor. As you caught your breath, ass up on the floor, he took the opportunity to slip his dick out of his pants, and began stroking it up and down, inspecting your pussy with his free fingers.

“I'll give you five seconds to get ready for the next round,” he said, and you panicked, lifting your legs off the floor. You weren't strong enough, though, or maybe you just didn't want to move. He kept counting down.

“4….3….2…1,” you heard the predatory grin in his voice as he pushed his foot onto your head, holding your cheek to the floor with one leg.

“As you wish then, my little slut.” He moved his foot away quickly and pushed inside of you, and your last coherent thought was of the folder again, and how long he'd make you wait to see the video you were about to shoot.

#cmkinkbingo2024 #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds challenge #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds writing challenge

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kaiijo · 3 days

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ROMANCE TROPES — [HAIKYUU]

characters: hinata shoyo, miya atsumu, bokuto koutarou, sakusa kiyoomi content: gn! reader, the msby four, rich sakusa (i am a rich sakusa truther until the end), bokuto picks you up, sakusa is implied to be taller than you notes: omg i lowkey want to do a fuller version of sakusa’s part

hinata shoyo ✶ love at first sight

slouched in a plastic airport seat, hinata’s leg bounces anxiously as he awaits his flight. rain beats down the side of the windows and he prays to whatever universal force there is that the flight leaves at the right time. he couldn’t fly with everyone else earlier since he celebrated his grandmother’s birthday with family but it put him on a late night flight that lined up with an incoming storm.

he scrolls mindlessly through his social media feed, double-tapping a photo of oikawa’s reunion with his high school team and tanaka’s anniversary post for kiyoko.

the speaker system crackles to life. “attention, passengers of flight 7644 to sapporo, due to inclement weather conditions, the flight has been delayed an estimated two hours. we apologize for the inconvenience and thank you for your patience.”

hinata curses under his breath, already on his way to pulling up the black jackals’s group chat to tell them. he pulls his cap off, running a hand through his hair with a long sigh. his phone begins to buzz with texts, no doubt from his coach telling him to keep them updated.

he rests his forearms on his knees, slumping forward and skimming through the messages. then, he feels a cautious tap on his shoulder and a soft voice asks, “excuse me, do you have a charger i could use?”

when he looks up, hinata thinks the greater powers that be answered a different prayer of his. because holy shit he has never seen anyone as beautiful as you. you’re in a comfy-looking pullover and sweatpants and hinata only realizes he’s just been staring silently for a few seconds when your expression turns apologetic. “i’m sorry to bother you, i’ll ask someone else!”

“no, no, i’m sorry,” he says, words tumbling out of his mouth. he scrambles to unzip his backpack, rummaging through until he triumphantly pulls out his charger. he hands it to you and you thank him. before you can leave, he blurts out, “i’m hinata.”

“oh!” you stick your hand out and tell him your name with a small smile and when you do, hinata knows that he’s gone.

miya atsumu ✶ brother’s best friend

osamu’s not sure how atsumu managed to weasel his way into his plans. it was a bit of a blur, atsumu practically crashing through the door of onigiri miya as osamu closed up shop to go get drinks with you, begging to be included. he supposes to reason was pity and atsumu’s pleading look as well as the fact that you work far away that had him agreeing to his brother tagging along.

it was in your last year of high school that osamu figured out his brother had a big, fat crush on you. honestly, it should have been more obvious, especially with the way atsumu flaunted himself and often paraded around the house shirtless when he knew you were coming over. it bothered him at first, thinking bitterly that ‘tsumu couldn’t let him just have one thing to himself? but over time, the annoyance faded as he saw atsumu prove that this wasn’t just a flight-of-fancy, and osamu has already made peace with the very real possibility that you could be his in-law someday. that is, is atsumu could even tell you in the first place.

it’s a little disturbing, osamu thinks, watching the way atsumu flirts with you and wondering if he too makes the same googly-eyes at someone he’s crushing on or if that’s the way he sounds. you giggle when atsumu tries to take a sip of your margarita, telling him, “order your own then, ‘tsumu!”

“nah, yours tastes way better.”

“can’t take this scrub anywhere,” osamu says, earning a laugh from you and a glare from his twin.

you pat atsumu’s shoulder and osamu can’t believe you don’t feel how atsumu melts into your touch. “i’m actually glad both of you are here,” you say, “because i wanted to tell you guys that i’m moving back to tokyo! my boss promoted me so i’m back at main headquarters! isn’t that great?”

“that’s awesome,” osamu says, speaking for both himself and atsumu, who looks like he just won the lottery.

bokuto koutarou ✶ opposites attract

whenever akaashi introduces you and bokuto as a couple to new people, he always gets pulled over to the side and asked in a whisper, “how did those two get together? he’s so… and they’re less…”

akaashi can’t say that he wasn’t surprised when you and bokuto started dating back in high school, given that they two of you were on very different trajectories. obviously, bokuto was the captain of fukurodani’s volleyball team while you were student council president and vice-president of chess club. bokuto’s grade sat at the lower end of the spectrum while you were always within the top five students in your class. bokuto liked loud, screaming parties while you preferred a quiet night with a few friends.

so when bokuto grabbed him by the shoulders one day and shook him, saying that he needed to tell you how he felt, akaashi was taken off-guarded. he didn’t even know you knew each other beyond having a mutual friend, him.

maybe back then, akaashi would have agreed with the person asking him but now, he just tells them to observe the two of you. because when akaashi does, everything falls into place. like right now, as he and bokuto sit in the stands, watching your final chess match. if you win, you’ll hold onto your spot as a national champion and go on to compete internationally.

out of the corner of his eyes, akaashi watches as bokuto sits at the very edge of his seat, chewing on his bottom lip. it’s clearly killing him not to cheer and it’s a testament to both his devotion to you. your hand hovers above the bishop before you switch quickly to the queen and move the piece with confidence, setting it down and announcing, “checkmate.”

the crowds erupts into the cheers and you’ve only barely finished shaking your opponent’s hand when bokuto flies out of his seat and barrels towards you. he sweeps you off your feet, spinning you once and setting you down before planting a big kiss on your cheek. you’re beaming as you’re handing your trophy, and bokuto steps back to let you soak up your spotlight. akaashi can’t help but notice that bokuto is beaming too and clapping the loudest.

as the crowd starts to disperse, akaashi and bokuto join you again, ready to take you to your planned dinner. before you leave, bokuto says, “i was going to do this later but i can’t hold it in anymore, babe.” and he gets down on one knee with a ring box akaashi is all-too familiar with.

sakusa kiyoomi ✶ reunited childhood sweethearts

“try not to look so dour, sweetheart,” sakusa’s mother tells him as she fixes his tie. sakusa wants to grumble some choice words but he knows better than to complain to her. besides, he’s only partially paying attention, eyes darting about the crowd and back towards the venue’s entrance.

he settles on adjusting his mask with a barely audible sigh and mumbles a quiet thanks as she flits to fuss over his older siblings. he glances again, disappointed as a different group of people waltzes in. he knows his older sister wouldn’t be so cruel as to lie to him that your family will be in attendance but the anxiety is making his antsy.

the two of you were inseparable as children with you being one of his only friends growing up. you spent you days squirreled away in some nook reading or outside playing volleyball. your mothers always cooed that you two would get together one day, and as he got older and learned what that really meant, sakusa found himself hoping too. but then your parents took you and your siblings abroad, leaving him alone and heartbroken. he cut you off, hoping the distances and time would make your departure hurt less, but it didn’t.

sakusa doesn’t recognize the voice that calls his name but his head snaps towards the doorway. you’re standing in between your older sister and younger brother, waving at him. his heart skips a beat. your social media postings don’t do you enough justice; you’re even more attractive that the pixels he

s spent hours staring at.

you still have that ever-present smile on your face and you quickly break-off from your family to bound over to him. without even thinking, his arms close around you as you embrace him tightly. you feel so familiar and he doesn’t want to let you go as you part. evidently, you don’t either as you keep him close still, only leaning away to look at him. “you’re so tall,” you laugh, more shyly you add, “and very handsome.”

this time, sakusa thinks his heart stops.

#.𖥔 ݁ ˖ kaiijo writes #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #msby x reader #black jackals x reader #hinata shoyo x reader #hinata x reader #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader #bokuto koutarou x reader #bokuto x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines

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imaginaryf1shots · 1 day

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Shattered | Lewis Hamilton

WC: 7K

Lewis x reader

Summery:(REQUESTED) You and Lewis have been in a long term relationship, he's on a triple header and you decide to surprise him only to walk in on him in bed with your childhood friend, more over you're pregnant with his baby.

Warning: cheating, cursing, pregnancy, miscarriage, blood, drugs, Sorry to all Carlas out there, but I just generated a name

A.N: This is longer that I was anticipating but it needed to be long.

Masterlist

You have been with Lewis for years, five years to be exact. Enough time for him to be integrated into your friend group. You usually try to travel with him as much as you can, but sometimes due to work commitments it’s hard for you to follow him. Saving your days off for the important races and his days off so you could relax together. One of your friends, Carla, was in between jobs at one point but wasn’t able to find anything. So Lewis being the man he is, offered her a spot in his team, and so Carla has been travelling with him a lot since then.

So she was the person you went to when you wanted to surprise Lewis, he was not expecting you this weekend at all, and you managed to get time off to see him. It’s been 2 weeks since you saw each other and you were itching to go see him.

Your heart fluttered with excitement and anticipation as you approached the hotel door, after 2 weeks of separation, you couldn’t wait to be in Lewis’s arms again. You smile to yourself, relishing the surprise you planned for him. Slipping the keycard into the lock, you push the door open, your anticipation building with each passing second.

The last thing you thought would happen, happened. The sight that greeted you inside shattered all your hopes and dreams in an instant. The smile wiped from your face, just like that.

There, on the bed, lay Lewis,your partner of five years, his eyes unfocused and distant. And straddling him, with a look of brazen disregard, was Carla, your childhood friend, her confidante, her sister in all but blood. But there was nothing familiar about the way she straddled Lewis, her movements possessive and predatory.

Your mind reeled, unable to process the surreal things unfolding before you. You watched in stunned disbelief as Carla leaned in close to Lewis, her lips brushing against his ear in whispered intimacy. But there was no warmth in the embrace, no tenderness in the caress. Lewis seemed so drunk he showed no reaction to what’s happening around him. The shock was like a physical blow, knocking the air from your lungs and leaving you reeling in disbelief. This couldn't be happening. Not to you. Not with the two people you trusted most in the world.

"Carla- Lewis." The words caught in your throat, your voice a mere whisper against the oppressive silence of the room.

"y/n..." Carla's voice cut through the suffocating silence, but there was no remorse in her tone, only a chilling indifference. "I didn't expect you so soon."

Your mind raced as you tried to make sense of the betrayal unfolding in front of you. Lewis wouldn't do this to you, and neither would Carla. But as you looked into their eyes, Lewis's vacant and Carla's calculating ones, you knew the truth. They had betrayed you, and they had done it knowingly.

A surge of anger and hurt threatened to overwhelm you.

“C-Carla, why are you- on t-top of Lewis like that?” You asked, voice trembling with anger and betrayal but most of all hurt.

“It's not what you think, y-y/n. Lewis wasn't feeling well, so I was just... helping him.” Carla tried to reason, she’s no longer on top of Lewis, she picked up his shirt that you bought for him and slipped it on.

“Helping him?” You scoffed, your eyes flashing with fury. “Cut the crap! Lewis, what the hell are you doing with her?”

“y/n, please, let me explain.” Carla pleaded with you and you shook your head.

“Explain? Explain what, Carla? That you're on top of my boyfriend?” This is all too much, even with her words, and her pleading with you, it all sounded fake. She’s not sorry and there’s no explanation to this, she knew what she was doing.

“Y/n? B-baby? What are you doing h-here?” Lewis sounded so out of it, shit drunk for sure. Lewis isn’t the type to drink a lot. You can remember all the times he was so drunk he was out of it, it’s so not like him. But it’s also not like Carla to be naked on top of your naked boyfriend.

“Fucking herll, I trusted you, i trusted you both.” Tears of betrayal well up in your eyes. “The girl I considered my sister and the man I love more than anything in my life, how could you? Honestly, how could you?”

Carla stutters and Lewis tried to move but he couldn’t even support his own weight, leaving you to scoff, and strom out of the room, as you fled down the hallway, tears stream down your face, your heart shattering into a million irreparable pieces by the two people you trusted most.

“y/n!” A familiar voice calls your name, on instinct you stop and turn, only to see Sebastian there, you have no idea what the former F1 driver is doing here but seeing him made you cry more. Seb was there when your relationship started with Lewis, he’s seen it all. “What happened? Do you want me to find Lewis for you?”

“No, I don’t want to see that asshole again in my life.” You spit out, Seb frowns at your words, but he says nothing. He just pulls you in his arms and hugs you.

“It’s okay, darling, it’s okay.” Seb tries to comfort you, but you shake your head no.

“It’s not okay, Seb, and it never will be.” You pull back, wiping your tears away. “You should go check on him, so he wouldn’t choke on his spit… or leave him, what do I care.”

“Are you sure?” Sebastian wasn’t sure about leaving you in this state, he’ll have a word with Lewis about whatever he’s done to leave you like that. He’s never seen you like this.

“Yes, I’m catching the next flight home.” You tell him and manage the smallest smile known to mankind, before you turn and leave. This time keeping your head down so you wouldn’t be seen or stopped again.

You take a taxi to the airport, your crying started once you were in the back of the car, feeling as your body went through the heartbreak, your world felt like it was collapsing around you. The weather seats of the car felt cold against your trembling body, and each bump in the road sent jolts of pain shooting through your already shattered heart.

The city passed by in a blur outside the window, the lights and sounds of the streets blending together into an indistinct haze. But inside the taxi, you were enveloped in a suffocating silence, broken only by the occasional sniffle as tears streamed down your cheeks.

Your emotional pain had morphed into something physical, a heavy weight pressing down on your chest, making it difficult to breathe. Every breath felt like a struggle, as if the air itself had turned thick and heavy with your sorrow.

The ache in your chest radiated outwards, spreading through your body like wildfire. It felt as though your heart had been torn from your chest, leaving behind a raw, gaping wound that throbbed with every beat.

You hugged your arms tightly around yourself, as if trying to hold the pieces of your shattered heart together. But no amount of physical embrace could ease the agony that consumed you from within.

Unbeknownst to you, your body harbored another source of pain. A life growing within you, fragile and unsuspected until now.

The physical toll of your distress began to manifest, a dull ache in your abdomen gradually intensifying into sharp, stabbing pains. Clutching your stomach, you doubled over, gasping for breath as waves of agony washed over you.

The taxi driver who was aware of your tears noticed the change in you, he noticed your distress, concern etched on his face as he glanced back at you through the rearview mirror.

"Ma'am, are you okay? Do you need me to take you to the hospital?"

Your head spun with a whirlwind of emotions, confusion mingling with the searing pain radiating from your abdomen.

“P-Please… the hospital.” You manage to say through the haze and agony, your voice barely a whisper.

With a sense of urgency, the taxi driver changed course, steering the vehicle towards the nearest hospital. You clung to consciousness by a thread, your breaths shallow and ragged, each movement sending fresh waves of pain coursing through your body.

As the taxi screeched to a halt in front of the hospital's emergency entrance, you were helped out of the car by the concerned driver. Every step you took felt like an eternity, the pain in your abdomen intensifying with each passing moment.

Inside the hospital, you were rushed to the emergency room, where doctors and nurses worked quickly to assess your condition.

The fluorescent lights casting a harsh glare over the stark white walls. Nurses bustled around you, hooking you up to monitors and taking your vital signs, their movements a blur in your pain-addled mind.

You lay on the hospital bed, your body wracked with waves of agony that seemed to consume your whole being. You clutched your abdomen, the source of your torment, with trembling hands, each heartbeat sending fresh spikes of pain coursing through you.

A doctor entered the room, his expression grave as he approached your bedside. His voice was calm but tinged with concern as he addressed you.

"Miss, I'm Dr. Patel. We've run some tests, and I'm afraid I have some news for you."

Your heart hammered in your chest as you looked up at the doctor, your eyes filled with fear and apprehension.

"What is it, doctor? What's wrong with me?" You whispered, your voice barely audible over the sounds of the hospital.

Dr. Patel hesitated for a moment, his gaze sympathetic as he delivered the news that would shatter your world once more, you thought that what happened earlier is the worst thing that could ever happen to you. And you’re about to be proven wrong. You haven’t reached reached your lowest point yet.

"I'm sorry to tell you this, Miss, but it appears that you were pregnant. Unfortunately, it seems you are experiencing a miscarriage."

Your world spun out of control at the doctor’s words, your mind reeling with shock and disbelief. Pregnant? Miscarraige? You couldn't wrap your head around the enormity of what the doctor was telling you.

“I-I I was pregnant?” You whispered, your voice choking with emotion. Dr. Patel nodded solemnly.

"Yes, it seems that way. I'm truly sorry for your loss."

Tears streamed sown your face as the weight of the doctor’s words settled over you like a suffocating blanket. You had been carrying a life with you, unaware until now, unaware until it was all too late, until it was taken from you.

Alone in the hospital room, with only the sterile walls for company, you grieved for the child you had never known, your heart breaking with a pain that transcended words. And as you lay there, lost in her anguish, you knew that your life would never be the same again.

Seb's heart pounded with a mixture of anger and concern as he stormed down the hotel corridor towards Lewis's room. The state he saw in you fuelled his determination to confront his friend.

Reaching the door, Seb banged on it with force, the sound reverberating through the hallway. He heard shuffling inside before the door swung open to reveal a dishevelled Lewis and a startled Carla.

"What the hell is going on here?" Seb's voice thundered, his anger barely contained.

Carla stumbled over her words, attempting to offer an explanation, but Seb silenced her with a stern glare. His attention shifted to Lewis, disappointment etched deeply into his features.

"Lewis, how could you?" Seb's voice cracked with emotion, his disbelief palpable. "With Carla, of all people?"

Lewis blinked, his expression a mixture of confusion and alarm. "Seb, I- I don't understand. What are you talking about?"

“Don’t play dumb, Lewis, I just saw y/n.” Seb's frustration surged as he realised Lewis's confusion. “She was in tears over you.”

Carla, sensing the escalating tension, made a hasty exit, leaving Seb alone with Lewis. The weight of disappointment hung heavy in the air as Seb struggled to comprehend what had happened.

"Lewis, something's not right here," Seb said, his voice softening slightly as he studied his friend's bewildered expression. "You seem... out of it."

Lewis shook his head, his memory foggy and fragmented. "I don't know what's happening, Seb. Everything's a blur."

Seb's concern deepened as he realised the severity of the situation. With a sense of urgency, he dialled the only number he had of Lewis’s team, relaying the state he’s in. Even though he’s more coherent now from when you were here, he was still out of it. Stumbling a little, his pupils blown wide, his words sluggish and he’s stuttering.

Minutes later, a medical team arrived at the hotel room, their professional demeanor a stark contrast to the chaos within. They quickly assessed Lewis's condition, taking blood samples and running tests while Seb watched on, his worry mounting with each passing moment. They have to make sure he’s okay to race the next day.

As Lewis began to regain consciousness, the pieces of the puzzle slowly started to fall into place. Seb breathed a sigh of relief, grateful that his friend was going to be okay.

"What... what happened?" Lewis mumbled, his gaze darting around the room in confusion.

Seb sighed, the weight of the situation pressing heavily on his shoulders. "We'll figure it out, Lewis. But for now, let's focus on getting you the help you need."

Sebastian had a theory but until it’s confirmed he’ll just keep it to himself.

Lewis trudged up the familiar path to your shared home, his heart heavy with a sense of dread. The events of the past few days had left him reeling, his mind still struggling to make sense of the chaos that had engulfed his life.

As he reached the front door, he hesitated for a moment, steeling himself for what lay beyond. With a shaky hand, he inserted the key and turned the lock, the door swinging open with a creak that echoed through the empty hallway.

The emptiness of the house hit Lewis like a physical blow, the silence oppressive and suffocating. He stepped inside, the weight of his solitude bearing down on him with each echoing footstep.

The living room was barren, devoid of the warmth and familiarity that once filled the space. Lewis's gaze swept over the room, searching for any trace of the life he had known, but found only echoes of the past.

His heart sank as he realised that your belongings were gone, your absence a gaping void in your once shared home. The realisation hit him like a punch to the gut, the ache of loss settling deep in his chest.

With trembling hands, Lewis reached for his phone, his fingers fumbling as he scrolled through his contacts. But when he tried to call you, he was met with nothing but silence, just like it has been since that day, the realisation crashing down on him like a tidal wave.

You had blocked him on everything.

The weight of your absence pressed down on Lewis with crushing force, his breaths coming in shallow gasps as he struggled to hold back the tears threatening to spill from his eyes. He felt lost, adrift in a sea of loneliness and regret.

How had it all gone so wrong? How had he allowed himself to stray so far from the love that had once anchored him?

With a heavy heart, Lewis sank onto the couch, his head in his hands as he surrendered to the overwhelming tide of despair. In the silence of their empty home, he grappled with the harsh reality of his mistakes, the mistakes he has no memory of, mistakes that he’d never do, longing for a chance to make things right, even as he feared it might already be too late.

Lewis sat alone in your once vibrant home, the air heavy with an oppressive silence that mirrored the emptiness in his heart. He had spent days in a haze of despair. His attempts to reach out to you were met with a resounding silence, leaving him to grapple with his own sense of remorse and longing.

As he sat listlessly on the couch, the shrill ring of his phone shattered the quietude of the room. With a heavy sigh, Lewis reached for the device, his fingers trembling as he answered the call.

"Hello?" His voice was hoarse with exhaustion, his eyes fixed on a distant point in the room.

The voice on the other end was unfamiliar, belonging to a friend of yours, someone Lewis hadn't spoken to in months. The words that followed pierced through the heavy fog of his mind, jolting him into stark awareness.

"Lewis." the voice began, its tone laced with sorrow. “I hate to be the one telling you this, and y/n would hate me for telling you.”

“What’s wrong?” Lewis is instantly filled with a sense of dread and fear as his mind realed trying to come up with reasons why your friend was calling him.

"I'm so sorry to have to tell you this on the phone, but y/n, she was pregnant.”

Lewis’s mind only heard and registered pregnant at first. “Pregnant?” And then he realsied the tense your friend was using. “Was? What do you mean was?”

Silence.

“She lost the baby."

Lewis felt as though the ground had fallen out from beneath him, his heart plummeting into despair. The weight of the revelation crushed him, leaving him gasping for breath as he struggled to comprehend the enormity of the loss.

A baby. Their baby. The child you had never known, taken from you before you even had a chance to hold it in your arms. The realisation sent shockwaves of grief coursing through Lewis's veins, his mind reeling with a cacophony of emotions.

"Why... why didn't she tell me?" Lewis's voice wavered with anguish, his heart splintering into a million fractured pieces. "How could she go through something like this alone?"

The friend on the other end of the line offered what comfort they could, their own voice trembling with empathy. “After everything that happened, she’s entitled to being alone Lewis, I just thought it’s best you know.”

In that moment of searing clarity, Lewis knew what he had to do.

He needed to see you. He needed to hold you in his arms and share in your grief, to let you know that you weren’t alone in your pain. He needed to face the consequences of his actions, whatever they may be.

With a heavy heart and a newfound sense of purpose, Lewis rose from his seat and made his way to the bedroom, his phone out already as he called for his jet to be ready in Nice. He’s going to find you, no matter what it took.

Lewis stood on your doorstep, his heart heavy with a mixture of apprehension and determination. He raised his hand to knock, but before his knuckles could make contact with the wood, the door swung open, revealing his tired and worn-down ex-girlfriend.

Your eyes widened in surprise at the sight of Lewis standing before you. The lines of exhaustion etched deep into your features softened briefly before hardening into a mask of cold indifference.

"Lewis." You said, your voice devoid of its usual warmth. "What are you doing here?"

Lewis swallowed hard, the lump in his throat threatening to choke him as he met your gaze. "Love, we need to talk."

A flicker of anger flashed in your eyes, but you remained silent, your arms crossed tightly over your chest as if to shield yourself from his presence. This leaves him doubting this more than ever.

"I know I messed up, but I need to make things right." Lewis said, his voice trembling with emotion. Your expression remained impassive, but Lewis could see the pain lurking beneath the surface, a reflection of his own turmoil.

"I'm tired of talking, Lewis." You finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. "You don't get to waltz back into my life after everything you’ve done."

Lewis felt a pang of guilt twist in his chest at your words, the weight of his actions bearing down on him with crushing force. He had hoped for a chance to make amends, but your cold indifference left him doubting whether reconciliation was even possible, and rightfully so.

"I'm not asking for forgiveness." He replied, his voice tinged with desperation. "I just want to understand. About... about what happened."

Your eyes flashed with a mixture of grief and anger at the mention of the past, the pain etched plainly across your face. Lewis felt his heart ache at the sight of your suffering, knowing that he was the cause of it.

"Don't you dare talk to me about what happened." You spat, your voice trembling with emotion. "You don't get to pretend like you care after what you did."

Lewis recoiled as if struck, the force of your words driving the breath from his lungs. He felt a lump form in his throat, the weight of his mistakes threatening to suffocate him.

"I made a mistake, love, and I remember nothing, I was so out of it." He whispered, his voice thick with remorse. "But I never wanted to hurt you. I love you, and I'm sorry."

For a moment, the anger in your eyes softened, replaced by a flicker of vulnerability. But it was fleeting, overshadowed once again by a steely resolve.

"I can't do this, Lewis," you said, your voice barely a whisper.

Lewis's voice wavered with uncertainty as he broached the topic that weighed heavily on his mind. "Did you... Did you know about the child before it happened?"

Your eyes flickered with a mixture of pain and disbelief at his question, the raw emotions swirling beneath the surface like a tempest.

"Does it even matter now?" You retorted, your voice tinged with bitterness. "Knowing or not wouldn't change what happened."

Lewis's heart sank at your response, the weight of his own ignorance pressing down on him with suffocating force. He had hoped for some shred of understanding.

"I just... I want to be there for you." He pleaded, his voice trembling with emotion. "I want to help you through this, if you'll let me."

Your expression softened for a moment, a flicker of vulnerability breaking through the facade of cold indifference. But it was fleeting, replaced once again by a steely resolve.

"I can't do this, Lewis." You said, your voice barely above a whisper. "Not with you."

With a heavy heart, Lewis watched as you closed the door in his face, shutting him out from your life once again. He stood there for a moment, the weight of your rejection crushing him under its unbearable burden.

As he turned and walked away, the echoes of your shattered love lingered in the air, a haunting reminder of what could have been.

Lewis returned to your doorstep every day since, with you refusing to open the door and speak to him. His nights are long and sleepless, as he tries to deal with the turmoil inside of him, he lost you and he lost his child all in one day. It all happened when he was drunk, when he was so out of it he can’t even remember it right now. He knew that he had to try, to lay bare his soul and beg for the forgiveness he so desperately wanted. Needed.

And so once more and with a deep breath, he raised his hand to knock, his knuckles rapping softly against the wood. Finally, after six days of trying the door opened, Lewis was met with your tired gaze, your eyes betraying a mixture of weariness and guarded apprehension. He felt his resolve waver for a moment, the weight of your silent scrutiny pressing down on him like a leaden weight.

"y/n." He began, his voice trembling with emotion. "Please, I need to talk to you."

You regarded him with a wary expression, but remained silent, and so he continued. "I know I've made mistakes, love, believe me I do." Lewis confessed, his voice raw with emotion. "I've hurt you in ways I never intended, and I can't even begin to express how sorry I am for that."

Your eyes softened slightly at his words, a flicker of vulnerability shining through the mask of indifference. But before you could respond, Lewis pressed on, his desperation driving him forward.

"I can't change the past." He admitted, his voice thick with regret. "But I can promise you this, I'll do whatever it takes to make things right. I'll be there for you, through every moment of pain and loss. Please, just give me a chance to prove myself to you."

Tears welled in your eyes at his heartfelt plea, his words striking a chord deep within your wounded heart. Part of you yearned to forgive him, to let him back into your life and embrace the hope of a second chance. But the scars he had left behind were still tender, the pain still fresh and raw.

"I don't know if I can." You whispered.

Lewis felt a pang of despair grip his heart at your words, the fear of losing you forever threatening to overwhelm him. But he refused to give up, his love for you driving him to keep fighting. He’s never given up when it came to racing, and he’s certainly not going to give up now.

"I understand," he said, his voice filled with determination. "But please, just think about it. I'll be waiting for you, for as long as it takes."

With one final pleading look, Lewis turned and walked away.

After weeks of silence and contemplation, you finally made the decision to unblock Lewis and reach out to him. You’ve seen the races, you’ve seen the interviews, Lewis is a man broken, under his eyes have grown darker, he no longer smiles or jokes around. For the first time in his career, racing has become just a job for him.

And so, with a heavy heart and a sense of trepidation, you sent him a text, informing him of your upcoming visit to Monaco and your intention to meet and talk things through. You had some business there you had to take care of, and that was the final push, that maybe you should sit down and talk everything through, not to get back together but maybe to just start moving on, maybe and just maybe become friends and nothing more. You lived with the motion that once a cheater, always a cheater.

You ring the bell to your-Lewis’s house and wait for him to open the door, even though your keychain holds the key that will let you in. This place you once called home. Memories flood your mind as you stand at the front door, a mixture of nostalgia and pain gripping your heart. You take a deep breath and knock. Moments later, the door opens to reveal Lewis, looking worn out and deeply regretful. His eyes soften at the sight of you and there’s hope in them. You’re about to crush that hope and despite everything you hate that you will, and you hate yourself even more for still caring about him even for a bit.

“Come in.” He says quietly, stepping aside to let you pass.

You walk inside, the familiar scent of his cologne mingling with the faint aroma of the diffuser you always had dotted around the house. The house is tidy, but there’s an unmistakable air of emptiness, it's void of all your little things that you took with you when you left. You sit down on the couch, feeling a strange mix of comfort and tension.

Lewis sits across from you, his hands clasped together, knuckles white. The silence between you is heavy, each second feeling like an eternity.

“You wanted to talk.” You begin, your voice trembling slightly.

He nods, swallowing hard. “I’m so sorry for everything. I... I didn’t know how to reach you, how to make things right.”

“I don't know if you ever could.” Tears well up in your eyes as you look at him. “Seeing you with her... it broke me, Lewis. I trusted both of you. And then... losing the baby...” Your voice breaks, and you cover your mouth, trying to stifle a sob. Lewis’s eyes fill with tears as he reaches out but stops himself, unsure if his touch would be welcome.

“I didn’t know,” he whispers, his voice cracking. “I swear I didn’t know what was happening. I don't even remember drinking, but my mind went blank, I would never...”

You nod, struggling to hold back the flood of emotions. “I believe you. But it doesn’t make the pain any less real.”

“I never wanted to hurt you.” He leans forward, his eyes pleading. “I can’t imagine the pain you’ve been through.”

“You don’t have to imagine.” You reply, your voice tinged with bitterness. “It’s real, and it’s here. Every single day.”

Lewis looks down, shame and regret etched into his features. “If I could take it all back, I would. I’d do anything to make this right.”

“I know. And I’m trying to understand, to forgive, the 5 years we spent together aren't so easy to flush down the drain.” You sigh, feeling the weight of his words. “But it’s so hard, Lewis. Losing our baby... it feels like the universe is p-punishing me.”

“It’s not your fault.” He says softly, his eyes filling with tears. “None of this is your fault. I was careless, I let my guard down. I should have protected you, protected us.” Lewis wipes away a tear, his voice trembling, seeing the man you loved for so long cry, made your own eyes fill with tears. He betrayed you but you still both lost your child before you even knew they existed. “I miss you. I miss us. I want to be there for you, to help you heal. If you’ll let me, just af friends .”

Instinctively, you both move closer, seeking solace in each other’s presence. Lewis reaches out and gently takes your hand, his touch tentative yet filled with a desperate need to comfort you.

“I don’t know if I can ever forget what happened.” You admit, your voice barely a whisper.

“You don’t have to.” He replies, his grip on your hand tightening. “But we can try to move forward, we can try to start coping. Together.”

You look into his eyes, seeing the depth of his sorrow and love. In that moment, you realise that despite everything, the bond between you is still there, it has weakened but it's still there.

“Do you really think we can get through this?” You ask, a hint of hope in your voice.

“I do.” Lewis says earnestly. “It won’t be easy, but I believe in us. I believe in you.”

Tears stream down your face as you lean into each other, your foreheads touching. The hug is a mix of comfort, sorrow, and the lingering love you still feel. You hold each other tightly, finding a fragile sense of solace in your shared grief and determination to heal. The journey ahead is uncertain, but for the first time in a long while, you feel a glimmer of hope.

Someone knocks on the front door, you break apart and Lewis goes to answer the door while you wipe your tears away.

”What are you doing here?” You hear Lewis say, and just as you stood up to go see who it is, Carla comes into the living room. You weren’t expecting her at all, unlike Lewis Carla hasn’t tried to reach out to you in any way. She has even spread some false information about you in your friend group. Carla storms in, her face twisted with anger and jealousy.

“What the hell is this?” she shouts, her eyes wild. “How can you forgive him after everything?”

“Carla, what are you doing here?”

”Me? What are you doing here? You’re just going to forgive him?” She ignores your question, her anger escalating.

“What happens between us is none of your business.” You tell her getting angry yourself, you weren’t about to give her the satisfaction of knowing that you haven’t forgiven Lewis and you were merely trying to deal with the grief of losing your child.

“After everything I’ve done to break you two up, I could go to jail!” Her words hang in the air, a shocking revelation that leaves you both speechless. Realising what she’s just admitted, Carla’s face pales, and she tries to backtrack. “I didn’t mean that,” she stammers, but it’s too late. The truth is out.

“What did you just say?” Lewis asks, his eyes narrowing.

Carla’s eyes dart around the room, desperate for an escape. “You heard me wrong. I was just angry. I didn’t mean it.”

“Did you plan everything? Did you mean to break us up? Is that it?” Your anger is boiling over.

“He was supposed to be mine! You were always in the way! You don’t deserve him!” Carla’s face contorted with rage.

Lewis steps between you and Carla, his voice steady but filled with fury. “Get out of my house, Carla. Now.”

“You’re just going to throw me out? After everything I did for you?” Carla’s eyes flash with defiance.

“Everything you did for me?” Lewis scoffs. “You tried to destroy my life, my relationship. You’re the reason we lost our baby!”

“I... I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” Carla takes a step back, realising the gravity of her actions. She may have wanted to break you up, but she didn’t know about your baby’s, and she didn’t want you to lose them anyways.

“You need to leave,” you say, your voice shaking with emotion. “You’ve done enough damage.”

Carla glares at you one last time before turning and storming out, slamming the door behind her. The house is silent for a moment, as you try to process everything that just happened.

”What did she mean after everything I’ve done and the jail thing?” You ask Lewis hoping he had any clue on what Carla was talking about.

”I-I’m not sure.”

”Did anything happen before or after…that night?” You ask him, hugging yourself, Lewis once more stops himself from pulling you closer into his arms.

”I don’t know, I was sick the whole night, almost didn’t race the next day.” Lewis remembers the weird sickness he had, it came out of nowhere. “Wait, Sebastian was there.”

”Seb? He actually went to your room?” You asked, knowing Seb of course he did what you said.

”Yeah, I’ll give him a call.” Lewis grabs his phone and calls Seb, recounting Carla’s outburst. Seb who was already suspicious, reinforces the need to follow up on the blood tests.

“We’ll get to the bottom of this.” Seb assures. “Hang tight, and I’ll push the lab to rush the results.”

Apparently since Lewis was alright the day after, they haven’t paid his lap results any mind, but once Seb called them they rushed in sending the results.

“Lewis, I-I have the results,” Seb says, his voice grave. You already have a feeling about what he will say.

“What did they find?” he asks, his heart pounding.

“There were traces of a sedative in your blood. It’s a strong one, often used in cases of severe anxiety or insomnia, but in high doses, it can knock someone out cold,” Seb explains.

A wave of relief and anger washes over you simultaneously. “So, it’s true,” you say, your voice trembling. “Carla really did drug you.”

”I’m afraid so.” Seb said and there was a moment of silence. “I’ll let you guys absorb this, and I’ll call you later.”

”Alright, thank you Seb.”

The confirmation that Lewis was drugged shifts the dynamics entirely. You and Lewis sit in silence, absorbing the magnitude of what has just happened.

Lewis leans back, closing his eyes as he processes the information. “I can’t believe she would do something like this. I trusted her. We both did.”

“She manipulated the situation. But now we know the truth.” You reach out, taking his hand.

“I feel so violated, so helpless. I hate that she did this to us, to you.” He squeezes your hand, tears welling up in his eyes. He wasn’t just drugged and taken advantage of, his relationship was ruined and he lost his child in the process.

“I hate it too.” you admit, your voice cracking. “But at least we have proof now. We can start to heal.”

Lewis pulls you into a tight embrace, his body shaking with emotion. “I’m so sorry for everything. I should have seen the signs. I should have protected you.”

“We couldn’t have known. She was our friend, or at least we thought she was. But we’re still here, and we can get through this together.” You hold him close, your own tears mingling with his.

The emotional weight of the past weeks begins to lift as you find solace in each other’s arms. There’s a renewed sense of unity and strength, knowing that the truth is out and that you can begin to move forward. Knowing that Lewis didn’t cheat left you with a sense of relief, you’re not alone.

“We need to press charges.” You say once you both have calmed down. “She can’t get away with this.”

“You’re right. She can’t get away with this.” Lewis nods, his face set with determination. And he does call his lawyers and told them what happened, they have told him what to do next. A call to the police was made and that set everything in motion, Carla wasn’t getting away with it.

It's been a few weeks since the confrontation with Carla and the revelation that Lewis was drugged. The legal process against her is ongoing, and while justice is on the horizon, the emotional scars remain. You and Lewis have reconciled, but the path to healing is long and filled with pain. The loss of your child is something that still haunt you and will continue to do for a very long time.

You wake up in Lewis's arms, the morning light filtering through the curtains. It's a Saturday, and for the first time in a while, there's no pressing urgency—no lawyers to meet, no police interviews to give, no races to go to, no meetings and no work. Just the two of you, trying to find some semblance of normalcy.

Lewis stirs and looks at you, his eyes soft but weary. "Good morning," he whispers, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

"Morning," you reply, managing a small smile. The simple act of waking up together feels both comforting and bittersweet.

The day unfolds slowly. You make breakfast together, an unspoken effort to reclaim a sense of routine. The kitchen fills with the aroma of coffee and pancakes, a small comfort amid the lingering sadness.

As you sit down to eat, an awkward silence settles between you. Finally, Lewis breaks it. "How are you feeling today?"

You take a deep breath, contemplating your words. "Some days are better than others. Today... I'm not sure yet."

"I miss the baby too. We may have not known them but I miss them so much." He nods, understanding, he says softly, his voice tinged with unexplainable pain. "Every day."

Tears well up in your eyes, and you reach across the table to take his hand. "I know. It's hard to move on, to find a way forward."

"We don't have to rush," Lewis reassures you. "We can take it one day at a time."

After that you found yourselves, both seeking solace in small, intimate moments. Taking long walks in the park, sitting quietly on the couch reading, holding each other during sleepless nights. These moments become the fragile threads that begin to weave your relationship back together. One evening, as you sit together watching the sunset, Lewis turns to you, his expression serious.

"I've been thinking... maybe we should see a therapist. Together. To help us process everything."

"I think that's a good idea. We need to talk about the baby, and about us, and just everything we’ve been through." You consider his suggestion.

And so you start attending therapy sessions together. The first few sessions are difficult, filled with raw emotion and unspoken fears. But slowly, you begin to open up, sharing your deepest pain and hopes for the future.

"Grieving the loss of a child is incredibly personal and complex." The therapist explains. "It's important to allow yourselves to feel the pain, but also to support each other through it."

It took time, and you’re still not back to how it was before. Perhaps you never will, but you’re learning to communicate more openly, to lean on each other in moments of weakness. The road is still long, but each step forward feels like a small victory.

One night, as you lie in bed, Lewis holds you close. "We'll get through this," he murmurs. "I believe in us."

You nod, feeling a glimmer of hope. "I believe in us too. We just have to keep moving forward, one step at a time."

Months pass, and while the pain of losing your child never fully fades, you begin to find new ways to honour their memory. You plant a small garden in the backyard of your home in the UK, a place of peace and reflection.

Your relationship with Lewis continues to strengthen, built on a foundation of shared grief and newfound resilience. There are still difficult days, but you face them together, hand in hand.

You find yourselves always there, whenever you’re in the UK and one sunny afternoon, as you sit in the garden, Lewis takes your hand and looks into your eyes. "I know we'll never forget our baby, but I want us to keep dreaming, to keep hoping. Maybe one day... we can try again."

Tears fill your eyes, but this time they're a mix of sadness and hope. "I want that too," you say, squeezing his hand. "I want us to keep moving forward, to find happiness again."

As you sit together, surrounded by the blossoming flowers, you realise that while the road to healing is long, you're not walking it alone. Together, you're finding a way forward, one step at a time, building a new future from the ashes of the past.

A.N: i don't write cheating, but I felt i can write the request and add ny spin on it

Maintaglist

@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3

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rosesaints · 3 days

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✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* HIT ME HARD AND SOFT!

DID I BREAK YOUR HEART? DID I WASTE YOUR TIME? ⸻ t. fushiguro, g. suguru, n. kento, g. satoru

summary: your breakup (and sometimes makeup) sex experiences with jjk men when inspired by the new billie eilish album! angst. warnings: 18+ mdni, mentions of infidelity, lots of angst lol, unprotected sex, breeding kink (nanami), fingering, oral (f!receiving)

: ̗̀➛ TOJI FUSHIGURO

I SAW YOU IN THE CAR WITH SOMEONE ELSE AND COULDN'T SLEEP! if something happens to him, you can bet that it was me.

toji doesn't know how he feels about the fact that you've moved on, and he decides to do something about it.

"is this really what you're doing now? living the dream?"

toji has this remarkable talent of sensing when you're finally at peace. you had just been dropped off at your aparment by your date, and the dust hadn't even settled yet before toji materialized by your door.

"that's exactly what the fuck i'm doing," you scoffed. red hot anger coursing through your veins as he acts like your relationship was nothing more than a lunatic pipe dream. like the very prospect of you being happy with someone else was an idea so foreign, it was laughable. "go home, toji. i don't even know why you came. did you really think that coming here, guns blazing and chest puffed up, would convince me to come back?"

toji appraises you for a moment, and it shouldn't send a shock down your spine, but the next thing he says does.

"has he made you cum?"

you freeze.

the truth was, your date hasn't. poor guy couldn't even last four seconds inside you before cumming, sheepishly evading you afterwards to clean himself off to properly satisfy you.

"you heard me, sweetheart. i won't ask again," toji grins. "what's wrong? where's all that fire you had earlier?"

"n-no," you try hard to fight the humiliation that threatens to bubble over in your chest. "not...not yet⸺"

he's stepping forward in mere moments, crowding you into your apartment and locking the door behind him, a wicked smile on the edge of his lips.

"you know, i like this new persona of yours. seriously, i really do," he's so close, invading your personal space and you can feel how hard he's getting against your thigh. "all this bite, all this fire, it's fucking sexy. but i think it's time to stop fucking around and come home, yeah?"

you know there's only ever been one way to go with toji.

"you poor thing," much later, to his delight, toji's got his one of his hands working back and forth over your cunt, pleased at how soaked and needy and docile you were, hips jutting forward to meet his rough, calloused hand. his other hand's wrapped around your much smaller hand, jerking him off in a brutal and agonizing pace. he curses at the way you're grazing your teeth over his neck, whimpering every time he circles your clit. "fuck. so fucking needy."

"pretty little cunt's gone so long without being touched, huh? that's okay," you shiver when his voice drops, dripping with determination. "we've got all week to make up for all that lost time."

: ̗̀➛ GETO SUGURU

I SHOULDN'T HAVE TO SAY IT. you could've been the greatest.

you've tried your best to keep geto satisfied for the longest time, to let him get his rest, but you can't fight how alone you've felt anymore.

"you'll go," the words are exhausting and holds the weight of a future you can never have. a future where he doesn't go, a future where you don't have to settle for staying. "and i'll stay."

you've watched him come and go for years, sometimes with a smile on your face, most times with tears in your eyes. this time, you're struck with the realization that you just feel nothing. none of the flightless uncertainty, none of the promises that you tell yourself that he'll find his way back. it's terrifying.

"i think we have to end it, sugu."

there was no prelude, no warning signs. geto had stopped by the night that he came back, soft and boneless and aching for your touch and your comfort. the realization hit you in the middle of such a routine and familiar night, geto sprawled across your bed in the most peaceful state you've seen him for so long as you got ready for bed. it kills you to have to shatter that, but you think it'll shatter you if you keep holding back. "don't know how much more i can take of this."

geto sighs. he would be stupid to not see this was coming.

every time he said goodbye only got harder and harder and harder, and he could see the way you dimmed every time he pulled away.

but he was selfish, so selfish, and willed himself to ignore it and hold on for a little bit longer. to chase that high of getting to know you, getting to feel your touch on his skin, spend nights draped across each other and whispering sweet nothings.

he nods. "i understand."

when you join him underneath the covers and he leans into your touch, hot and full of want for things he can't have, you let him take the clothes off your back, let him drift lower and lower until he presses sweet kisses to your thighs.

your breath stutters, and he wants to consume you. wants to remember how you taste, how you whine and plead for more, the way you used to look at him with reverence. he seals his lips around your clit and sucks like he wants to make a home out of you, hand reaching up to cup a hand around your breast and graze your nipple.

tightening your thighs around his head deprives him of his oxygen, makes him forget what's going to come next.

you come on his tongue, heart hollow and echoing.

he could've been the greatest.

"i'll come back," there was something solemn in his voice, a grief that overcomes him in waves. he pushes a loose strand of hair away from your face and knows. "and you'll come with me."

: ̗̀➛ NANAMI KENTO

OPEN UP THE DOOR, CAN YOU OPEN UP THE DOOR? i know you said before you can't cope with any more.

it's been a year since you broke up with nanami. you don't know what to say, so you let your actions speak for you.

you're not sure why you called. it came so easily, like muscle memory, typing his number into your phone and calling a number you haven't dialed in a long time. it rings once before he's picking up, voice laced with worry and confusion and the sound of your name on his lips sounds like everything you've missed in the past year. "what's wrong?"

"kento, come home. i miss you," your breaths are coming out in shallow waves, anxious and jittery as you await his response on the other side of the call. "i know i said before that i can't cope anymore, but i want to try, really try this time."

"i'll be there soon. stay... stay right where you are."

it takes him all of seven to come knocking at your door, chest panting and leaning against the doorway in a daze, like he's still in disbelief that you've allowed him back. "is this... is this real?"

he's had dreams about this exact moment, plagued with the thoughts of how it ended the last time, how you'd broken down in his arms in defeat⸺he's had time to think through every possible scenario, every way that he could prove to you that he would change, he would make you a priority, spend the rest of his days making it up to you.

"i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you⸺" nanami, normally so composed and careful with his words, can't help that all his emotions, all the love he's held safe for you in his chest, tumbles out like a flash flood. all you can do is nod helplessly,

when you cum, it's with a gasp, back arching off the bed as he maneuvers your body with an easy familiarity that can only be acquired through years of experience, years of knowing your body inside and out.

he's not too far behind, getting closer and closer the more he looks at your wrecked and fucked-out expression. he laces a hand through yours, intertwined.

"never gonna let you go again," his thrusts are getting more impulsive, thoughts going hazy when he thinks of you, swollen with his baby with the happiest expression on your face. "i think it's time we start a family."

: ̗̀➛ GOJO SATORU

I TRY TO LIVE IN BLACK AND WHITE, BUT I'M SO BLUE! i'd like to mean it when i say i'm over you.

your ex-boyfriend gojo just can't bring himself to get over you.

in a lot of ways, being with gojo was like staring into the sun. on your first date, he had taken you on a picnic overlooking the shakujii river to go see the cherry blossoms. your head was on his lap and he had gently titled your head back, chuckling as you closed your eyes as per his instructions. "just close for a moment," you hummed, but the sensation of warm sunlight was overtaken by the feeling of being cradled in his hands. "open your eyes."

for a moment, all you could see was light, vibrant blue. eyes adjusting to the sun, until bright sapphire eyes came into focus. it was the happiest you had seen him for a while. "did you feel it?"

at the time, you didn't understand what he wanted you to see, didn't know what it was that he wanted you to search for.

did you feel it?

this time, the roles are reversed. you're cradling his head in your hands as he's fallen to his knees in front of you, desperately trying to keep the tears at bay as he presses his head into your abdomen, shoulders shaking with the intensity of his emotions, holding onto you like a lifeline. "satoru, i don't know if i can keep doing this anymore."

"no, you don't mean that."

"we can't keep doing this," you weren't a fool. you know he hasn't been doing well, can see it in the dark circles that have temporarily made a home under his eyes, the cursed energy that radiates off of him in waves. "you can't just keep coming back, sa⸺gojo. you have to move on."

when he rises, he places his head onto your shoulder, and for a moment, the rush of familiarity overpowers you. "satoru. just say my name please, that's all i'll ask for."

"satoru⸺"

he's pressing warm, soft kisses against your neck, nuzzling and inhaling the scent of your hair. his hands are exploring the length of your back, fingertips slowly dragging across your skin. when he pulls back to look at you, sapphire eyes shimmering with unshed tears, you find yourself spiraling again.

it's so much easier to forget that it's over, really over, when he's fucking into you like it's the last time. it's in the slow drag of his dick as he takes his time to soak it all in, the sensuous pace that he knows drives you crazy. you're not sure where you end and where he begins, hands holding onto your waist like a lifeline as he snaps his hips. it sends tremors down your spine and you see stars behind your eyes.

satoru cups your cheek, and it's like burning alive, like a fever you can't shake. "that's it, sweetheart, fall apart for me."

when you pull the blanket over him later, under the soft glow of the moonlight, you think you realize what he meant all those years back.

he's all you could see.

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pnsteblnme · 3 days

Text

final(s) week ✿ a.r.

pairing: alessia russo x fem!reader

summary: even though you're insufferable, your girlfriend helps you get through finals week (this one is for everyone who’s getting their asses kicked by their exams cause like same <3 but i’m crossing my fingers for you!!)

warnings: school, swearing, stress?, a bit angsty maybe, very self-indulgent :)

word count: 2.5k

a/n: first of all, i'm very sorry for disappearing from writing for like almost a year 🥹 i had my finals and barely had time to eat, let alone write but i only have one more to go so i hope i’ll get to write more in the future! i also have a few requests in my inbox that i’ll try to work on (sorry that you guys have to wait this long) and lastly, i don’t know anything about studying architecture so idk if the things happening here are even remotely close to the truth 😜

“Fuck!”

A few sets of eyes turned at your exclamation as you bent down to pick up the things you’d knocked over during your side squats.

Across the room, Alessia watched with a sympathetic look as you shook your head and grumbled in annoyance. She knew that you’d been stressed out because of your upcoming finals and was almost used to seeing you in a bad mood.

Of course, she understood that majoring in Architecture while pursuing a career as a professional athlete was challenging. What she hadn’t expected was for you to almost crumble in on yourself.

The closer the deadlines came, the less you smiled. When the team had bonding night, you stayed home and worked on your project. When Alessia came home from said nights (she only went because you insisted she go), you were still working and would continue to until you were on the brink of falling asleep.

The agitated frown on your face became a constant. With the end of training, you’d hurry home and dash into your study, only coming out to have a rushed dinner with your girlfriend.

The bags under your eyes turned shades the night sky was jealous of. Every time Alessia tried to coax you into doing something to take your mind off of things, you insisted that you couldn’t waste time that was better spent on your project.

So, most nights the blonde lay in your shared bed, worried frown etched onto her face as she prayed that you wouldn’t overwork yourself. Reaching out her fingers, she felt like there was more than distance between you.

Sure, she could feel you twisting and turning on the other side of the bed but you weren’t there, at least not really. Your mind has been all over the place, constantly jumping from task to task, and you two hadn’t had a real conversation in weeks.

A nudge on Alessia’s arm broke her out of her thoughts as Leah raised an eyebrow, “What’s got her knickers in a twist?”

Letting out a concerned sigh, the striker opened her mouth to answer, eyes still focused on you across the room, when an Irish accent filled the air.

“Yeah, Less, ye not treating the missus right?” Katie teased as she ruffled Alessia’s hair, who rolled her eyes and shrugged the smaller woman off.

Finally tearing her gaze away from you, the blonde turned towards the two, “I’m really worried about her,” she breathed out, fiddling with her fingers.

Leah smacked the back of Katie’s head when she noticed that this was troubling Alessia. “What’s going on?” the blonde questioned in a softer voice.

Sighing Alessia’s eyes travelled back towards you, “It’s finals week in her uni and she’s been working like a dog, day and night, spending every last minute either here or trying to finish her projects. She refuses to believe it but it’s been taking a huge toll on her and I just don’t know how to help.”

Leah and Katie shared a look as they watched the striker’s shoulders drop. They had noticed you gradually pulling away from the team, never joining them on nights out with the excuse of having to do things for school. Initially, everyone believed that you just didn’t fancy the idea of socialising, knowing that you were a rather introverted person.

“I don’t think there’s much you can do except be there for her and make sure that she takes care of herself. Or take care of her yourself when she doesn’t,” the blonde advised as she placed a gentle hand on Alessia’s shoulder.

Katie nodded, “Yeah, maybe you can distract her a bit.” She nudged your girlfriend’s side with a wink, adding in a whisper, “If ya know what I mean.”

Alessia rolled her eyes, threw her head back with a groan and stormed off, not before calling out a ‘You’re unbelievable!’ at the two women who were left cackling.

At the end of the day, everyone found themselves in the changing room, packing their things and getting ready to go home, before meeting at Beth and Viv’s for game night. So, even though all of the girls were exhausted, elated chatter bounced off the walls as the anticipation of an evening full of competitiveness grew.

You had just finished showering and started throwing your things into your bag when a body collided with your back, arms being wrapped around your neck and legs trapping your waist. Your breath got caught in your throat before you realised that only one person would do this.

“Kyra!” you exclaimed in an agitated tone as your eyebrows furrowed and you tried to pry her off of you.

The mischievous laughter in your ear only irritated you further, proving to be an obstacle in your plans to get home as soon as possible to be able to work on your projects. “You wanna be partners later? We’ll destroy everyone,” the Australian grinned as she rocked back and forth.

“I’m not coming,” you huffed out as you still struggled to get her off your back, “Now get off, Kyra!” You loved that girl from the bottom of your heart but your bad mood was starting to worsen with every second that passed and you had to do everything in your power not to snap at her.

“What?” she asked, slowly sliding down to stand on the ground and turning to face you, “But we’re the Beyond Lunacy Buddies!” the brunette said, holding your shoulders and shaking your body. “And you already missed the last one,” pouted Kyra.

Your knuckles turned white with the way you were clenching your hands, “Not everyone can sit on their ass and play games the whole day,” you scoffed, ripping yourself out of her grip and zipping your bag. You knew it was wrong of you to lash out at her like that but at that moment everything you could think about was how this interaction was wasting time you didn’t have.

The strict schedule you’d designed barely left you room to breathe and you were determined to follow it down to a T so that you’d get good grades. You didn’t even know why you were so desperate to excel in every task you got, still having your career as a footballer if you didn’t graduate with flying colours. Maybe it was for the slim chance that your parents finally said they were proud of you. Maybe it was to prove your classmates wrong, although they always had something to say, no matter what you did. Maybe it was to prove to yourself that you weren’t a failure. The reason didn’t matter in the end because you were intent on finishing the things you started.

“Geez, don't be such a gloomy Gus,” Kyra’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts as you quickly grabbed your things and hurried to your car before you had time to regret your words.

Worried eyes followed your disappearing form as everyone wondered what happened to your usually kind and bubbly self.

Slamming the door shut and dropping your bags next to the shoe rack, you grabbed your headphones from the kitchen counter and made your way into your study, closing the door behind you. You turned on noise cancellation and clicked play on your favourite playlist as you began ruffling through all the sheets spread across the desk.

The ideas for the model house and the concept of the mall had been ready a long time ago but the realisation of those ideas wasn’t as easy. Already having done the foundation of the house and more than half of the drawings for the mall, a good portion of the task was done but that didn’t make it any less draining.

You didn’t know how many hours had passed as your headphones died and you were finishing one of the last blueprints while you held a wall of the model, waiting for the glue to dry. When your pencil accidentally rolled under the table, you carefully let go of the wall before you leaned down to pick it up.

After grabbing it, you lean back up. A loud bang fills the air as you bump your head against the table. You rub the back of your head with a wince when the sound of a slight crack follows.

“No, no, no,” you whisper, quickly sitting up and seeing exactly what you were afraid of. The wall you’d been holding came crashing down. Leaning back a bit to check if anything else was damaged, you noticed that in your hurry to sit up, you’d creased a few blueprints on your desk.

The pencil you just picked up was flung across the room as your vision blurred. You could hear your heartbeat thumping in your ears, your hands started shaking, and your breathing picked up.

Shaky hands smacked your forehead while tears were making their way down your cheeks. “You’re so fucking stupid,” you grumbled with a trembling voice, each word accompanied by another smack to your head.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you muttered, hands now tangled in your hair in frustration as you felt a sob bubbling up your chest, opening your mouth to gasp for air as it felt like your throat was closing up.

Gentle hands grabbed your wrists and intertwined with your fingers. “Hey, it’s okay,” whispered Alessia with a soothing voice as she squeezed your hands.

So absorbed in your frustrations, you hadn’t even noticed that your girlfriend was already home. As soon as you saw her standing next to you though, you felt like you could breathe again. Her mere presence calmed you down drastically.

You slowly raised your head to look at the blonde and when she saw your tear-stained cheeks, she immediately pulled you up from your chair and into a tight hug. Even more tears trickled down your face as you were engulfed in Alessia’s perfume and the overwhelming warmth that came with her hugs.

Sobs racked through your whole body and you clenched your fists into the back of the blonde’s t-shirt, hiding your head in her chest. One of the striker’s hands rubbed slow circles onto your back as the other held your head against her and gently scratched your scalp.

When your sobs calmed down a bit and with your head still buried in the crook of your girlfriend’s neck (because you knew that you wouldn’t be able to string together a coherent sentence if you looked at her), you mumbled with a weak voice, “I- It’s just all too much. I actually thought I could do this, you know. ‘Cause how hard can it be to go to training for a few hours and then build some stupid house and make a few drawings?”

Once the dam broke, the words tumbled from your mouth like an avalanche, “Turns out, if you’re as incompetent as I am, it’s too fucking hard. And I know there are thousands of people out there who have it so much worse than I do so I shouldn’t be whining like this but I just feel like I’m drowning and I don’t know what to do,” you confessed before taking a deep breath.

You slowly loosened your grip on Alessia’s shirt and started pulling away as you whispered with your head hung, “Sorry, I’m just dumping all of this on you, it’s not that big of a deal.” You took another step back, wiping away your tears and clearing your throat, “So, how was game night?”

Before you could put more distance between you, soft hands grabbed your cheeks and pulled you close again, “Stop invalidating your feelings!” You drowned in ocean-blue eyes as Alessia reassured, “It is a big deal and I want you to dump everything on me so we can work through it together.”

Her thumbs grazed your cheekbones, your heartbeat slowly returning to its normal pace, while the blonde continued, “I know finals week is very stressful but you’re more than capable of doing this. I believe in you and so should you! If you talk to me and let me help you, we can make sure that you’re not neglecting your health and that you’re not biting everyone’s heads off at training while you’re building a Dreamhouse even Barbie dreams about.”

Letting out a quiet laugh, you hesitantly nodded your head, wrapping your arms around her waist as the striker added once more, “And just because other people have it worse, doesn’t mean you’re not having a hard time.”

You let out a sigh as you nuzzled against Alessia again, “I’m sorry. For everything. I know I haven’t been the nicest person or the best girlfriend. It’s just felt like my final week rather than finals week,” you chuckle with an apologetic smile.

“Don’t worry, you’ll have everything ready in time. You have three more days to finish this, and on two of those we don’t have training, which means that you’re not working any more today!” the blonde grinned, excited now that the time you two spent at home could actually be spent together.

Seeing Alessia’s smile instantly brought a warm, fuzzy feeling to your stomach as you felt overcome with gratitude. Not only for the fact that she stayed with you and supported you but also for the fact that she tried to understand you.

“God, what would I do without you?” you question, squishing the blonde’s cheeks in your hands as you pressed a feather-light kiss to her nose, forgetting about your deadlines for the first time in what felt like months. “But seriously, thank you for putting up with me even if I’ve been a ‘gloomy Gus’ as Kyra would say.”

“Of course, love,” Alessia answered with a gentle peck, “You don’t need to thank me. But you should apologise to Kyra. While I quite enjoyed a night without her pestering, she seemed very sad.”

You grimaced as you let your head fall against the taller woman’s shoulder and sighed, “I’ll go call her.” Staying in Alessia’s embrace for a moment longer, you reluctantly pulled away from her warmth and started walking to the bedroom.

“Y/N.”

Before you could make it out of the study, your girlfriend’s voice stopped you.

Turning around, you were met with Alessia smiling lovingly at you, eyes sparkling in the moonlight.

“I’m proud of you.”

Hearing those words brought new tears to your eyes as you rushed back into the room and tackled the striker in a bear hug. The quiet groan she let out when your body crashed into hers was lost on your ears when you continuously whispered ‘I love you’ while suffocating her with kisses.

Not even when you graduated top of your class had your parents told you they were proud of you. Not even when you and your team won the Olympics that same year. But you didn’t care anymore because you had a clumsy blonde who’d tell you every day.

#woso #alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #arsenal x reader #arsenal wfc #woso x reader #arsenal

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queenpiranhadon · 2 days

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Can you do a bakugou x reader, they share a moment together like on a trip to the beach with the class or something like an situation like there have to share a hotel room which cause them to have to talk or spend time together?

A/N: Lmao this look way longer than it should've- I beg for forgiveness 😭 Here's my masterlist!!

Warning(s): cursing, takes place during third year, reader and Shinso are apart of the hero course after being apart of general studies, reader has a mentioned and explained quirk, reader is in class 1-A, Shinso is in class 1-B, close friends to eventual lovers, Bakugou's a secret rom com lover, reader is gn but is written with f!reader in mind, not proofread D: + anything else I forgot

Pairing(s): Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

•─────•°•❀•°•──── ᴅᴜᴍʙᴀꜱꜱ ────•°•☁︎•°•────•

You know the feeling when you’ve been working so hard that when you finally take a break, it feels wrong?

That’s how you felt- right now- staring at the towering resort in front of you.

You were more than grateful for the effort the school put in to accumulate the funding for a beach trip for the entire hero course- something the other courses envied you all for, and in all honesty, you would gladly give up your spot for any one of them. It was your third year, a stressful time given that you were about to become fully fledged heroes by the time you all graduated in a few weeks – something you found ironic since you and your classmates have already seen more action than the average pro hero.

Though the circumstances were a little different for you, as you had joined the hero course later in the school year following Hitoshi Shinso, who joined Class 1-B. You were put in Class 1-A to keep the classes balances, allowing your dream to come true to become a pro alongside the others.

Your quirk, Eviscerate, let you release powerful blasts of pure kinetic energy that could destroy, explode and burn. Though while it was no doubt powerful, it was unstable, and dangerous. When you first got your quirk, you destroyed half of your home while sleeping, and the following doctors appointment suggested getting you a permanent support equipment that would act as a muzzle on your quirk to keep in contained.

However the company that supplied the gear was unreliable and neutralized your quirk to the point where it was practically useless. From then on, you used gear to amplify your quirk instead of restrict it, and yet, though the blasts had the same effects they used to, they would sap large chunks of your energy the more powerful the blast was, which is why you passed out after taking out 7 robots during the entrance exam and ended up enrolling in General Studies, despite your potential.

Once you managed to get into the hero course, you were paired with train with a certain Bakugou Katsuki, who was quite experienced in the explosions department and helped you develop your special moves. Bakugou pushed you to not only become a better hero but a better person, yelling at you to take care of yourself and scolding you if you didn’t drink enough water when you felt dizzy after training.

You two had grown considerably close due to that, and you felt more comfortable within Class 1-A, never feeling left out despite your late arrival.

And to be honest, you couldn’t help but harbor some feelings for the blonde too.

Now, here you were, standing in front of one of the most luxurious beachside resorts in all of Japan.

Dragging your suitcase and backpack, you gather in the lobby alongside your classmates, awaiting Aizawa Sensei’s instructions.

The ravenette in question pulled out his phone and starts to read out the sleeping arrangements.

“Ashido and Hagakure, Shinso and Tokoyami, Midoriya and Todoroki, Asui and Uraraka...” he drones on monotonously, and your brain subconsciously started to tune him out until a pair of names catches your attention.

“L/N and Bakugou.”

Almost everyone whips their heads in your direction, and your face turns bright red.

Bakugou?!

***

Your mind races a million miles a minute. I’m sharing a room with Bakugou?! Shit- what if I’m a bad roommate?! What if he thinks I’m gross! I’m going to have to scrub myself clean every hour now. Damn it I didn’t bring enough body wash to wash every hour of the week. You mentally groan to yourself.

You see Bakugou heft his bags, grabbing his room key from Aizawa, and you want to melt into the floor. How in the world were you supposed to inconspicuously keep your cool around the man you’ve been crushing on for months?! Especially since you were sharing a room?!

Sighing, you decide you should probably get your key as well, shifting your bags around, and approaching Aizawa who had your key in his hand.

Taking it from him with appropriate thanks, you turn around to leave, but you hear his voice, stopping you in his tracks.

“L/N.” he calls, and you look back at him confused.

“Yes, Sensei?” you ask warily, wondering what he could be asking you about.

“You might be wondering why you’re paired with Bakugou.” he paused, choosing his next words carefully. “We assigned rooms based on those who get along decently enough, and though Young Bakugou has most definitely mellowed out over the years, he seems to be the calmest around you.”

You feel your cheeks subconsciously heat up at the words, warmth spreading in your heart and butterflies erupting in your stomach. Did he really act that way?

No, he just likes you as a friend, you tell yourself, clearing your throat and looking at your teacher.

“I understand Sensei. I have no problem rooming with Bakugou-kun.” you smile reassuringly, and the man reciprocates with a wry smile of his own before dismissing you to your room.

“Go settle in, breakfast buffet closes at 12:30 tomorrow.” he says, grabbing his own suitcase and heading to his shared room with Vlad King.

You marvel the resort as you make your way to the elevator, ornate marbled floors the color of sea glass accented with gold. Two giant seashells the size of gargoyles stood at both sides of the elevator doors, and you step inside, soft classical music trickling through the space as you stare out the glass wall, observing the many people of the beach, and clear aquamarine waters that looked crystalline. It was...beautiful.

You hear a ding, marking your arrival to the 8th floor, where you and the rest of Class 1-A were sleeping, except for Tokoyami, who slept on the 7th floor alongside Class 1-B.

The floors were carpeted, a nice burgundy with simple gold waves that ran throughout the length of the hallway, simple, but elegant.

Trailing your eyes alongside the doors, you find the door you were looking for, Room 1076.

You fumble with the key card, pressing against the small black sensor by the door handle, hearing the beep that signaled it was unlocked, and you open it, taking in your surroundings.

There was a large painting of two seahorses, with their tails intertwined, hung in between the beds. The beds themselves were draped with such fancy comforters that looked like clouds, you almost didn’t want to sleep on them in fear of ruining it.

“Oi, close yer mouth, yer gonna catch flies.” you hear a familiar voice behind you, whipping around to come face to face with a pair of vermillion eyes.

“Oh Bakugou!” you laugh nervously “I didn’t see you there.”

He rolls his eyes, grabbing your backpack from your shoulders forcefully and plops it onto the nearby chair, effectively flinging you backwards in the process.

“Gah! Ah shit-” you yelp, falling backwards and losing your footing, only for strong arms to wrap around your waist and yanking you back just in time to narrow avoid breaking a very expensive looking vase.

Looking up you see Bakugou’s eyes on you, an impassive look on his face.

A few beats of silence pass before you burst out into laughter, Bakugou forced to shift your form in order to not have to fall over again from the ferocity of your heaving giggles.

“Pfft- you should’ve seen your face - you were like rahhhh and I was like AHHH” you rambled, finding it difficult to breathe as your muscles painfully stretched to accommodate how much you were smiling.

You feel a hand rest on top of your hand, effectively silencing you as Bakugou clicks his teeth impatiently.

“Tch- calm down dumbass, ya just got here and yer already trying ta destroy the place.” he grumbles, the tips of his ears turning red. “Aizawa said we can call up room service for free- let's order some dinner and watch a movie or some shit. I’m fuckin exhausted.”

You smile brightly, shoving down the butterflies that erupt in your stomach, and nod.

“Sounds good! You order and I’ll find something to put on.” you beam, flopping down on the bed closest to you, deciding that it was going to get messed up anyways. “Just don’t get anything too spicy. I’m not a weakling obviously, but you’re probably going to manage burning off my taste buds one way or another.”

Bakugou rolls his eyes again, flipping you off and receiving and indignant Hey! from you, walking over to the bedside table to dial room service on the provided phone.

Flipping through the channels, you surf through various news programs and sports broadcasts, already missing your easily accessible streaming services back home. Finally, you find a cheesy rom com you were familiar with, thankfully the timing was perfect, seeing as the movie’s opening credits roll through. The quality was surprisingly good, you thought happily to yourself, but given that you were staying in such a high-end resort, you shouldn’t be surprised.

You make yourself comfortable, mentally high fiving yourself for deciding to wear sweatpants and a t-shirt that morning, so you didn’t feel the need to change into your pajamas just yet.

Bakugou hangs up on the phone with a gruff salutation, sitting on his own bed adjacent to yours and raises his eyebrows at your choice of movie.

“This one? Really?” he asks, frowning slightly and you quirk up an eyebrow in return.

“It was all I could find, plus I know you like this one. You have the book copy of it you nerd.” you smile teasingly.

Bakugou’s ears turn red at the realization that you noticed his guilty pleasure of reading romance novels, chucking a pillow in your direction in retaliation.

“So what? Movie’s shit.” he grumbles, turning to watch the male lead being introduced. “S’true for all of em. Books are way better.”

You sigh, disgruntled as the pillow hits you in the face and falls off your bed out of reach. You did really want to throw it back at him, but right now, you were just too lazy.

“Stop being such a sourpuss.” you gripe, letting your arms dangle off the side of the bed as you lie on your stomach. “Obviously books are more accurate, but just try to enjoy a classic movie as if it were a standalone.”

The blonde sighs, making himself comfortable on his bed without another word, vermillion eyes locking themselves on the screen, just as the female lead complains to her best friend that her crush won’t like her back. He knew it was a dumb movie, just by looking at the male lead’s interactions with her, it was clear he was in love with her. Were people always so dense when it came to a guy’s feelings?

His eyes wander in your direction, watching you doze off , face half smushed against the edge of the bed. Sighing, he gets up, grumbling as he realizes his foot fell asleep, but works through the pain as he makes his way to your side, grabbing the remote and turning off the TV.

He places the remote on the bedside table and lifts you gently, adjusting the pillows and rearranging the comforter to safely tuck you in. However you weren’t fully asleep, your eyes blinking blearily as you weakly protest.

“No...not yet...” you mumble, frowning softly, and Bakugou resists the urge to smooth the cute crinkle between your furrowed eyebrows “Food’s going to waste...”

The blonde chuckles quietly, eyes softening as he tucks a strand of of loose hair away from your face. “S’not a problem dummy, I didn’t order anything. Knew ya were gonna pull this shit. We'll eat a big breakfast tomorrow.”

You nod sleepily in agreement, as he turns away to get ready for bed himself, only to be stopped by the feeling on your hand loosely wrapped around his wrist.

“Bakugou?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

His cheeks are tinted red, clearly flustered, not that you noticed, too tired to pick up on really anything.

“I...”

“I love you too dumbass.”

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theglamorousferal · 1 day

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Hardcover/Anger Management ship Sacrificial Bride au Part 2

AO3 Prompt Part 1

(Things get a bit angsty here for a bit, but don't worry, it gets back to some of the cracky-goodness!)

After allowing himself to relax for a bit and actually letting his muscles loosen for once, Jason rose from the bath and rinsed himself off under a piping hot and strong shower. He finished the rinse off with a flash of cold water to focus back up and made his way to the vanity where there was basic hotel amenities. He attempted to style his hair and after at least drying it, pulled on the fluffiest robe he has felt since he first moved into the manor all those years ago.

Fuck. The family. The Outlaws...

Jason put his face in both his hands and took a deep breath, then allowed his shoulders to slump as he dragged his hands from his face to his sides. He marched in a lazy manor over to the end of the large bed where he flopped face down. Surprisingly, it wasn't as fluffy as he was expecting and he silently thanked whatever force there was that he wouldn't have to resort to sleeping on the floor or a chair for the familiarity. Though, he turned his head to face the windows, that little reading nook looks like I could easily fall asleep there.

No, stop it. Do I remember the Dimensional Code for home?

Jason contemplated. On one hand, it could be useful, on the other, they could have an entirely different category system here. He spent the next however long trying to remember the dimensional code for his Earth and tracing the swirls of purples and greens out the large windows. A knock startled him.

"Jason? Are you decent?" He stood quickly and pulled the robe tighter together, not quite ready to show his autopsy scars to his soul-owner? A literal goddess? He wasn't quite sure what she was yet.

"Uh, yes, come in, I'm covered." He tried to stand casually next to the bed when he had just been sitting, his hands now in his pockets.

"Hi, so one of my aides figured one thing out about the ritual that is somewhat concerning and also something I probably also should have brought up. Mind if we sit at the window?" She strode in and settled herself with a pillow against the window and waited for him to do the same. Once he was settled, she hesitated for a moment before sighing and looking out the window to the haunting site outside.

"The Infinite Realms has another name, one coined from my Earth." She licked her lips before she spoke again. "It's also known as the Ghost Zone. As the dimension between dimensions, it is also where beings known as ghosts, the Restless Dead, Neverborn, Gods, and all sorts of other beings that thrive off a substance known as ectoplasm reside. As such, I am current Queen Regent of Ghosts." She let him think for a moment before turning to him. "That means I can tell when someone is death-touched." Jason froze. "I didn't mention it before because I know it's super personal, but then my aide figured out that the ritual only worked because of the fact you are and especially since you had spent time here-" She cut herself off as his eyes just bugged out larger with every word that spilled from her lips. "Sorry, I just, I'm death-touched too. I haven't died yet, but I have been around death magic, or radiation, or whatever it is, since before conception. I don't know exactly what you went through, but I know it was deeply traumatic. I can have my healers take a look at your soul and see if it's alright because it kinda radiates a bit how traumatic it was." She bit her lip with one hand raised near her chin.

Jason closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and clenching his jaw tight and blowing the air harshly out his nose. He fell back against the window, allowing his head to knock against the glass. It was warm, as though the sunlight was gently shining upon it. "Yeah." He croaked. "Yeah, I died." He said softer. "I was dead for roughly six months." He dipped his head forward to block his face with his bangs. "Crawled outta my own grave." He laughed bitterly. "Spent a while wandering, a while more in a coma." He swallowed tickly. "Got picked up by my dad's vindictive ex and trained for a while to be an assassin." He looked up at her, making eye contact. "She dunked me in this pit of magic shit, we call it a Lazarus pit in my dimension. It cures those near death and kills the healthy. Fixed me up the rest of the way, or at least the scars and issues I had pre-death. I got to keep these." He allowed the top of the robe to fall away, showing the tops of the large y-shaped scar that ran the length of his torso. She gasped, both hands coming to cover her mouth, tears began to form in her eyes. She reached out as if to touch them and stopped herself, her face turning determined.

"I, Jazmine Nightingale, High Queen Regent of the Infinite Realms, the Mediator, the Caretaker, and all those other titles." She waved her wrist. "Declare that I will help you however you deem necessary. Whether that be helping your soul, returning you to your dimension, breaking this binding, or whatever. You are currently bound to you, and as such that makes you my responsibilities." She paused in her speech for a moment, thinking. "I mean, you're already technically one of my subjects because I think you qualify as one of the Restless Dead, but we'll figure out your classification when we take you to a healer. For now, it has been a long day. I will have one of my aides come to get your measurements for some clothes, I'm sure we have some around here somewhere that should fit you at least for dinner. The aides can get any style you like and it can be made quickly by the seamstresses we have on staff." At his hesitation she added with a smile, "They work in supernatural means, they will not overwork themselves by making an entire wardrobe in a few hours."

She patted the cushion in front of her and stood. "I will meet you at dinner, it's not formal at all, don't worry about dressing fancy, I'm just still in this getup from 'official queen stuff'" she said with air quotes looking tired. "I'll see you in a bit Jason!"

"Yes, um, your majesty." He stood to bow, the robe making it a bit difficult."

"Just Jazz please, for the love of the Ancients." She said with a pained look on her face.

"Right, sorry," he stammered, straightening, "See you later, Jazz." She smiled softly before leaving him to himself. He smacked his hand to his face groaning at himself before flopping face-first into the bed again. "She's the ruler of the dead and she's so determined and nice, what the actual hell? She's so earnest, it's so cute!" he sat up leaning his elbow on his knee. "Okay, operation Romance Plot is go. She isn't put off by the fact you died, this is good, I can work with this. Okay, so castle, let's go with that aesthetic. I'm thinking let's go with a poet shirt and some black slacks for dinner tonight." He claps his hands in front of him, decision made.

As if summoned by his words, there was another knock at the door. A man with bright sky blue skin and a deep plum butler's uniform opened the door, a measuring tape casually thrown over his shoulders.

"Yes, hello good sir. What aesthetic are we thinking for this evening?" he said in a posh accent.

Jason clasped his hands together. "What should I call you? Would you possibly have a poet's shirt and a pair of black formal slacks for this evening?"

"You may call me Jeeves. Yes that Jeeves. I am the personification of the trope of the helpful butler, and as such my power set includes anything and everything that could help me complete the duties of head butler of the High Family's home. We absolutely do have that attire on hand, it would be but a moment for someone to fetch it for us. Now did you have any ideas about future attire?" Jeeves snapped his fingers and a skeleton manifested in a swirl of dust to obey his silent command to gather the requested clothing.

Jason paused for a moment, considering. "How does the Queen usually dress casually around the castle? I know she said she was from an Earth. I don't know where in the timeline her Earth is from and she mentioned that what she was wearing earlier was mostly for special occasions, so I don't want to look like an idiot." He explained.

"Very good sir, she typically dresses in either a less formal toga if she's to be seen anywhere near the public areas of the castle, her armor whilst sparring with her knights, the High Princes and Princess, and if she is only going between her room and study then her far less formal Earth clothing which is a long sleeved blouse and lightwash jeans, typical of the late 1990's and early 2000's."

Jason thought for a moment. He didn't know how long he would be stuck here, but decided that clothes enough to last a fortnight should work. For all he knew, time flowed differently between here and his home dimension. Decision made, he told the butler what he wanted. Measurements were taken, the skeleton arrived with the requested clothes and Jason was left to change into his clothes for the evening. He still is wearing his combat boots because he forgot to ask for a pair of shoes.

Once changed, he realized that he still probably had a bit before dinner and he walked over to one of the bookshelves browsing the titles. There were several classics that he recognized, his favorite, Pride and Prejudice, was there. There were a few as well with Jane Austen's name, but not titles he recognized. He decided to come back to those later and pulled what looked like a collection of fairy tales from the shelf then settled himself lounging in the window nook to read for the next few hours.

#dpxdc #fanfic #dp x dc #dcxdp #dc x dp #anger management ship #hardcover ship #jazz x jason #sacrificial bride au #get it jason #live out your romance novel dreams #I really want to do more #but it's almost midnight here #and I have work in the am

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mammonsrockstargf · 1 day

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Solomon has a bad leg. At first, he didn't really notice it, or maybe he just assumed that he pulled a muscle or something. Whenever he's been sitting down for a while and he has to get up, he feels a slight pull in his right leg. When he has to bend down to grab the thing he dropped or get on his knees to collect a certain root, a small, sharp pain shoots up through his leg.

Solomon has lived a long time. He's experienced a lot of pain, but it's always gone away eventually. Sometimes he needed a healing spell, or he would borrow a little power from one of his pacts to heal it. But this stupid pain in his leg won't go away, no matter what he does. He's tried every single healing method he remembers, and it just won't stop.

He feels silly. He feels helpless. He wonders if the years have finally caught up to him.

He wonders if all the times you teasingly called him an old man were just a secret ploy to curse him. Because he certainly feels like an old man now.

He's good at hiding his pain. Expertly, in fact. So it takes a while for you to notice. But you do, and when you do, you get really upset.

"You’ve been hiding this from me? Why didn't you tell me?" you ask, and Solomon sighs and grips his leg. It's so stiff that he has a hard time walking around on it. Usually, it isn't all that bad, but he was in the human world the other day, and the temperatures were unusually cold, and now his leg is acting up, and wow the world really isn’t on his side these days.

"I didn't want you to worry," is all he responds, and you cross your arms, staring furiously at him, trying to control your temper.

"I want to worry about you. I want to know if you're hurting!" you say, and Solomon feels a flash of annoyance. Not with you, but with himself. For making you worry and for making you upset.

You go to him and cup his face, worry etched into your face from the way your eyebrows furrow to the way your lips purse. "Let me in," you ask, and Solomon feels his heart swell with sorrow. You give so easily, you open so easily, you never ever blame him for anything. So why can't he do this one thing for you?

"I've been alone for so long," he says, and you nod, bringing him closer to you. Your foreheads touch, your noses brush against each other, and he closes his eyes, surrendering himself to your care.

After that, whenever his leg acts up, you hand him an ibuprofen. The first time you do, Solomon feels very silly. All this wisdom, and it never once occurred to him to take a pill. What's even worse is that the pill works. His leg begins to feel better.

It still acts up sometimes, but you recognise the signs by now and hand him the pill each time without a single word.

And he no longer feels silly. He just feels very loved.

a/n: i'm working on a longer fic, and i wanted to post a lil something, so here's a quick little thought i had. hope you enjoyed it, thank you for reading, mwah mwah mwah <- free kisses for anyone who wants one.

read more here. >:D

divider by @/cafekitsune.

#ficlets #solomon #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me solomon #obey me x reader #obey me solomon x reader #obey me headcanon #obey me swd #obey me fluff #obey me drabble #obey me x mc #obey me x you #obey me solomon x mc #obey me solomon x you #obey me solomon headcanon

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allthornsnopetals · 2 days

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We are not Friends D.Bridgerton

Description: A falling out results in a lost friendship, between Y/n and Daphne, due to this, the two have not been friends for some time. But a sticky situation occurs and they are to come back together again. Let's hope the truth comes out, or God help these women.

"Mama!" Daphne cries, clenching the newest Lady Whistledown gossip in hand, pacing the drawing room, breaking closer to tears.

Violet Bridgerton rushes in, barely having a moment to steady herself before Daphne is crashing into her arms, weeping a set of worked up emotions.

"What seems to be the matter?" Violet takes her hand, sitting them both on the sofa, ringing for tea.

"Look!" She shoves the parchment in her chest, sulking in her handkerchief.

Violet's eyes blew open, shock visible on her face. "Oh, no... Anthony!"

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Y/n gasps, her mouth agape, caring not for her breakfast, storming out of her room.

"This has to be some sort of joke."

"Papa! Edger! Look at what Lady Whistledown had published!" She almost screams, running to the drawing room, slamming the parchment down on the breakfast table.

Damon jumps, spilling his tea with Y/n slumping herself on the sofa, visibly hopeless. "Must you be so loud, Y/n." He hisses, taking the paper with a scowl. "Sorry, papa but just read it."

Dearest gentle readers,

It seems, a simple ruse, can stain even the purest fabrics, even a Baudelaire and Bridgerton. Something new has come to this authors attention... Something rather fake, such as a false friendship. It seems, Miss Y/n Baudelaire and Miss Daphne Bridgerton, have never been allies, let alone friends for almost a year. You see, before the season of debutantes and marriage, the close friends had a falling out, one that led to tears, unspoken words and unfortunately an unmendable relationship. If it were me, I would have guessed a man had been involved. They have fooled us all with their plastic grins, gentle tones and 'friendly' banter. All this time behind closed doors, the two ladies loathed each other with a burning passion, all over a man.

Of course, Daphne and Y/n have not been friends for some time, but they both assumed their roles to be well-kept, keeping a distance and only conversing when need be. But that did not fool Lady Whistledown and now everyone in town knew of their broken alliance, leaving a gaping hole in their family relations. You see, both dynasties held a strong relationship, one of favors and marriage. They were like kin to each other, all relying on their relationship, like kings and queens to neighboring nations, for here in London their is always some sort of war among the tons.

"What did you do!" Damon booms, tossing the paper to the floor in a rage.

"Nothing, I swear it, papa. It's blaspheme, lies. Lady whis-"

"Lady Whistledown, is never wrong, child. In this situation, you best hope she is." Damon marches off, rage fuming from his ears.

A long silence fills the air, one thick and angry. Edger, her eldest brother hunches over, squeezing the bridge of his nose, frowning deeply, breathing harshly, clearly angry. Y/n tries to speak, feeling the need to smooth the tension over but nothing comes.

"Don't speak, your words will only upset me," He sighs sharply, legs crossed, trying to calm himself. "I don't want to know what happened but only, how are you going to mend your friendship with Miss Bridgerton." He's staring at her now, eyes calm, body still tense

"What am I going to do? It is but a rumor, Daphne and I are, thick as thieves." She nods, setting herself up with haste, leaving him alone before she suffocates herself on the tension.

What was she to do, indeed? Y/n, had not a clue. Her heart was not yet ready to be fixed, let alone face the girl who had shattered it with her lies. She was done with her but it seems the ton is not.

If she is to face Daphne Birdgerton again, she will have the truth.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Daphne paces the room, sure to burn a hole through the carpet, waiting on Y/n, if she shows up of course. Surely she would, surely she is to care about the reputation of here family. But as the time drew to midnight, the ball soon to end, Daphne began to slowly lose hope.

"My apologies gentlemen, but my dance card is full. Better luck, next event, yes?" Y/n slides past the double doors, closing them with a shaky breath, turning the lock as she enters.

"Where have you been?" Said Daphne, her tone strained and irritated.

Y/n does not answer, pouring herself a glass of bubbles, no doubt a method to pull it together. "My feet do hurt." She flops on the cushioned sofa, past Daphne, near the fire, slipping her feet wear off, tucking her them under herself, getting comfortable.

The library of the host wasn't as large as the Baudelaire Mansion, but it were a library and a private place, certain to keep unwanted eyes and ears away.

"Sit, I do prefer our conversation to be comfortable." She says, lazily waving Daphne over, ignoring her exasperated groan as she sits on the other end of the sofa.

She could see in the corner of her eye, Daphne pouting, legs crossed with her dainty arms folded over her chest. If the circumstances were different, Y/n would tease and even draw a laugh, but they were no longer friends, so the thought of making fun and jokes were nothing but a past-time, forgotten and never to be forged again. Anyways, she's exhausted, feet aching, Y/n was in no mood for banter or going through memory-lane, as if they could.

"Why were you late." Daphne turns to her, stern and still sulking. Y/n laughs, sipping her drink, effortlessly turning her head, staring at her, as if she were a child. "I am to marry before the end of the season, can't do that if no man asks for my hand." She explains, rather plainly as if she were bored.

A sharp pang jabs Daphne's chest. She knew Y/n would stop at nothing, until she had found a Suitor and wed. It's the goal of every young lady present at the party, except hers. Daphne wanted to make her dynasty proud and wed out of love, but she could not do that, if the one she loved stared back at her, wanting not a woman but a man. Oh, how she wished, she were a man, not a woman. Perhaps, she could wed Y/n, run to the countryside and build a family together. But the longer she stares at her, the more doubt she felt, for the eyes that looked at her were filled with bitter anger and unforgiveness.

"I don't want to be your friend anymore, Y/n. I think it's best, that you and I make our separate ways."

Daphne could still recall the pain in her eyes, her smile erased in a few simple words, their long lasting friendship gone in a few moments. Guilt still loomed over her, like a shadow. But she couldn't pretend anymore, her heart became far too great for her to handle, Daphne could not trust herself to be alone with her, afraid she might flip and do something she'll regret. It had to be done, even if the eyes she once found comfort in hated her, wishing her dead.

If only things were different.

Y/n waves a hand in her face. "Hello, did you not hear a single word I said?" Her tone harsh, expression tight and clearly annoyed.

"Yes, of course!"

Y/n laughs humorlessly, visibly unconvinced. "You were spacing out again." She scoffs, setting the empty glass on the small wooden coffee table.

"You always do that! Especially when under hot water! Do you not car-"

Daphne zones out, losing herself in Y/n's visible rage. She were the only woman who could make anger look effortlessly beautiful, even if her words stung, which most of the time they did. But she cared not, for she knew Y/n did not mean what she said, only saying what comes to her mind when overwhelmed with fits of anger. She couldn't help the grin curving her lips, she's been starved of her company for too long, she had missed her yelling, her anger, her imperfections, that made her so perfect. She has missed every part of her, even her most messyest parts.

"What are you grinning at?" Said Y/n, frowning deeply, her tongue laced in poison, readying to kill.

"Nothing," Daphne snorts, clapping a hand over her lips, as if it could stop her uncontrollable chuckles. "Truly, nothing. My apologies, continue."

Y/n stood, furious and exhausted. "If this is how you defend your reputation— my reputation, you can kindly sod off!"

She picked up her skirts, making a b line for the exit. "Wait! You can't walk out there looking like that!" Daphne shields the only way out, blocking Y/n's path, trying her best not to buckle under glare.

"Looking like what."

Daphne swallows thickly, afraid of the wild fire before her: beautiful, stunning, luring, but dangerous and even deadly.

"You look displeased, angry, mad, furious... may I say, beautifully deadly." Daphne squeezes her eyes shut, waiting for another applause of sharpened words, but they never came.

Silence fell, like rain, cooling and even putting out the angry fire. Opening her eyes, she watches Y/n pour herself another drink, this time offering her a glass, eyes soft and gentle.

So that is all it took to calm her. Complements and sweetened words, is all that was needed to extinguish the flame. If only Daphne knew sooner, she could have saved her plenty of burns. Taking their places back on the sofa, Y/n slipping her slippers off once again, finding a comfortable position, they sat awkwardly, no words spoken.

"What I said before was, acting, pretending. We are already doing that, but we have to be closer, and spend a lot more time in public. Form a believable ruse." Y/n went on to explain, shifting in her spot, attention glued to Daphne.

Ruse.

The word made Daphne's stomach stir, making her sick. She did not want to pretend, did not want to act. She wanted her company to be raw, genuine. But she's fairly aware of her shortcomings, she just hoped that she could keep her wandering heart under control. There were many things Daphne wished for, but she will never wish for the falling of another's dynasty because she simply couldn't keep it together.

"Deal?"

"Deal." They shook hands in agreement, unknowingly dooming themselves in an unbreakable contract.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

The spring sun bloomed a great deal of heat and light, the park bustling with noise of joy, celebrating the thaw, signifying the beginning of warmer weather in the ton. Y/n kept safe under the provided shade of her family camp, fanning herself and sipping pink lemonade, doing her best to keep up chatter with another possible Suitor, completely ignoring the second party drawing near her family tent.

"Well, good afternoon Miss Daphne! It has been much time since we last had your company over for tea." Edger curtsied, offering her a chair beside Y/n.

"It has, hasn't it? I have been preoccupied with far too difficult things, I'm sure you'll understand." She grins in thanks, taking a glass of pink lemonade.

"Yes, of course. I'm sure Mr Deluca would be happy to join me and the other gentlemen, elsewhere." He looks between Daphne and Y/n, sending him a silent message.

He nods, leaving a kiss to Y/n's gloved knuckles, curtsying, acknowledging both women in farewell.

Y/n flutters her lashes, grinning as Stephen takes his leave, his gaze still glued to the young lady, incapable of tearing it away, fumbling behind Edger. Once out of view, she turns her attention to Daphne, finding a rather nasty scowl.

"Fix your face, it appears to me that you have sucked a sour lemon." Y/n shifts in her seat, trying to get comfortable, watching her younger brothers: Harwin and Hamish, fly their kites with Hyacinth and Gregory, Daphne's youngest siblings.

She gasps, insulted, hitting Y/n in the shoulder with her fan. "I do not!"

Y/n winches with irritation, hitting Daphne back, acting like children. "Don't hit me, you sour lemon." She chuckles, dodging her attackers next move with a swift stance, ready to run. Without a second thought, she pokes her harshly in the thigh with her fan, making a run for it when Daphne decides to stand, surly for revenge, starting a chase.

Ladies should not run but in this case, Y/n saw it rather fitting to make chase from the woman hot on her tail, she sure were fast for someone rather slow. With the possibility of being physically harmed she couldn't help but laugh, a smile permanently stuck to her face, swiftly sliding past Daphne as she drove forward, fan in hand. Y/n gave a gentle tap with her fan to her behind, watching Daphne gasp, grinning as she shook her head, recollecting herself before continuing with the chase.

"You're going to regret that, Y/n."

With a squeal Y/n ran, dodging and weaving past young and old, even through the Bridgerton tent. "Sorry!" She yells, passing Violet, using her as a shield from her attacker.

"Using my mama, is rather cowardice, don't you think?" Daphne pants, trying to find a way past Violet who stood with a smile, finally happy to see her daughter and dearest friend frolic.

"Not at all, I'm sure your mama is enjoying herself. Aren't you ma'am?"

Violet rolls her eyes, stiff as a board. "Oh, Y/n what's that!" Daphne stills, pointing at something past Y/n's gaze, distracting her.

With her distraction she catches her, holding her in her arms, making it impossible for Y/n to escape. "Cheat!" She cries, laughing and without thinking, embraces Daphne, panting and grinning.

The two held each other, completely out of breath and out of hatred. The Bridgerton and Baudelaire girls back together again, even though it were a false friendship.

"Y/n would you join us for a glass of peach tea and perhaps chat about the season, so far? I see plenty of Suitors have swept to your feet." Violet offered a glass, acknowledging her state of jovial exhaustion.

"Yes, of course, Violet! I do adore your peach tea, I find it the most refreshing." She beams, taking the glass with Daphne's hand intertwined with her own.

Even with the presence of the spring heat, they chat for hours, drawing laughs, terrible jokes and even worse memories. "No, he didn't!" Daphne gasped, squeezing her hand.

"Oh, yes! Violet saw and had to step in. If she didn't I would have smacked him senseless." Y/n explained, high on story telling, completely oblivious or unbothered to her head resting on her shoulder, chuckling at the sudden throw back.

"Oh, yes... He was rather, rude and arrogant. His mother needs to teach him better manners." Violet gave a disapproving shake, sipping her peach tea, the pitcher almost empty.

"The worst part is, the young gentlemen came back! The nerve... And with his mother, no less." Violet tsk's, rolling her eyes.

"His mother!" Daphne chokes on her peach tea.

"Yes! A nasty blob of a woman."

"Mother!" Daphne scolds, Y/n laughing harder than intended.

"Your mother can be quite the... Bear." Y/n mutters, laying her empty glass down on the small white table, holding a silver tray.

"What? Would you have preferred that I do nothing? That witch bore an ugly heart of a boy, with a face of a donkey." She shrugged, pouring her guess another glass.

Y/n whizzed a laugh, Daphne slapping her on the arm, clearly not wanting her to encourage her mothers antics.

"Don't encourage her, she'll never stop." Daphne warns with a playful grins. "My apologies. Violet, next time go for the eyes before the crutch."

Violet chuckled with a wink, Daphne nudging Y/n.

At this time tents were slowly being stored away and the sun began to draw behind the clouds, dipping away for the night. With that, Y/n's lady Maid, Daisy strolled over, fetching the young lady.

"We are to leave in five, Edger wishes everyone to make haste to the carriage." She informs her, bobbing a curtsy, leaving faster than she came.

"Right, well the tea has been splendid, thank you Violet," She stands, sweeping her dress clean, bowing in farewell and thanks. "I do wish to spend another day like this, perhaps sooner than later."

"Oh, the thanks is all mine, you truly are missed. Our door is always open to you, if you ever need an escape from your brothers, but I can't promise much relief." She returns her bow, hugging her farewell.

"I'll walk you back." Daphne offers, high on a day filled with someone she missed, even with the sense of a ruse

She took her arm, moving rather slowly, not wanting to let her other half go, just yet.

"Stephen seems smitten with you, like all of your Suitors. He'll make an excellent husband and a great father, if you wed of course. You are to be wed?" Daphne asks, her tone and expression worried, searching for Y/n's gaze.

For a moment, her eyes pooled with fear, something Daphne thought she would never witness, for Y/n was always knowing, always confident and strong. Did she not wish to be wed?

Patting Daphne's arm, Y/n stops, looping her arm free, clearing her throat, her smile genuine to the eyes of a fool but Daphne is no fool, she sees right through her, like one sees through glass. Her smile seemed strained, pained, worried and hurt.

"I do thank you for today, it truly was a treat but I best go now and with haste, don't want to keep Edger waiting, you dare keep him waiting and he's all on you with claws. Hopefully Lady Whistledown buys our little ruse and our families reputation... Will be mended," She pauses, rolling her thumbs over Daphne's gloved hands, comforting and reassuring.

"I am sure you want me gone as much as Eloise, wishes to rid the world of men."

No, I do not want you gone, I want you near, close, incapable of leaving... I want you, as one wants oxygen.

But Daphne could not say that, not to anyone. To harbor affection for a fellow woman is forbidden, wrong, worse compared to her current situation. If Daphne were to bring speech to her hidden affirmation, she could be ruined─ her entire dynasty will be ruined, all because she couldn't stop her stubborn heart for loving this woman, who loathed her most. Would she hate her more, if she were to be honest? Would she kill her or out her if she were to give voice for her love?

Daphne wanted to scream, shout, yell and cry until her throat ran dry. She needs Y/n, like oxygen... Like a bed of roses that craves for water. But she couldn't have her, not in this life... Not in any.

Parting, broke Daphne, as if a weight had landed on her chest, crushing her heart.

"With haste, Daphne!" Eloise calls, her voice booming over the chatter of the bustling park, scaring a flock of birds, that took flight, frightened by the sudden noise, flapping and gobbling their own sounds.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Daphne is not the only person who eyed Y/n, as if she were the main course of the dinner party──"She's beautiful." Said Benedict, sipping his cocktail, eyeing the girl he's been trying to court for the entire season.

Of course, she were beautiful, it's Y/n, beauty came naturally to her and so did Suitors. She had not yet made it to the floor when a swarm of men crowded her, offering her a dance, a drink, a hand and even food. "Of course, she's beautiful, Benedict, only a fool will think otherwise." Said Daphne, gritting her teeth at her brother and the other men swooning for someone she wish were her's.

Y/n, wore her award winning smile, promising a dance to the first few boys, who pooled to her pink jeweled feet. Tonight she bared a rose quartz color dress, her neck donned with a matching gem necklace. Her hair flowed in ringlets, decoder with pink jeweled flowers, drawing back half her mane in a lovely back crown. Her ears, clipped with pink diamonds, rolling out a theme with her outfit. She stuck out.

Half way through the night Daphne had danced, performing that best she could, her gaze constantly shifting to the girl in pink, chatting to a ring off men, containing of lords, viscounts, dukes and even a prince.

She's growing tired at watching them frolic around her, making her laugh, gritting her teeth to dust. If she were a man, she would have courted Lady Y/n, long ago, asking for her hand with the most expensive flowers, gems, jewels and food─she loves her food, the best way to Y/n's heart is always food. Daphne is sure, that if Y/n had a choice between a husband and an infinite supply of her favorite foods, this season would have been short lived, less then a second spent on finding a husband, she'll be with a food child, living her best life.

By the expression on Y/n's face, she is growing exhausted, tired of these men, ready for sleep and perhaps a hearty meal. But the night was not over and the room is becoming far too warm. Fanning herself, Y/n excuses herself, gliding past men and women, young and old, shifting through until she were out, venturing to the fountain, relieved to finally have silence.

"I didn't expect you to leave such handsome men behind. Many looked rather wounded at your departure, I'm sure you shattered a few hearts." The sound of Daphne's voice makes Y/n jump, hand slamming against her chest in fright.

Calming herself, Y/n breaths an exhausted laugh, fanning herself still. She did not expect company, especially not Daphnes.

"Excuse my behavior but you gave me a fright. I was not anticipating your presence, not after Lady Whisledown's latest update." Said Y/n, scooting over, allowing Daphne to sit with her in the lip of the fountain.

"Uh, yes Lady Whistledown's paper, she seems rather impressed with our ruse, she even called us 'two peas in a pod'." The two shared a short laugh, consumed by awkward silence and embarrassing sniffs.

Lady Whistledown seemed pleased with their act, that she published two columns regarding their false friendship, speaking great praise for their public fondness. Thinking their friendship to be mended, fixed and thriving. So, why spend another minute in the same environment, pretending to enjoy their company.

Clearing her throat, Y/n turned her attention to Daphne. "Do you need something?" Her eyes wander, bottom lip stuck between her teeth, waiting for an answer.

Daphne paused, thinking for the best excuse possible. "No, I just wanted to see you... Perhaps offer a stroll around the gardens."

"I don't want to be your friend anymore, Y/n. I think it's best, that you and I make our separate ways."

Y/n scoffs, lowering her gaze to the gravel floor, an irritated grin, spreading across her face. "What are you doing?" She questions, her tone angry and steady, fire blooming under her gaze.

What is Daphne doing, indeed?

She had made it abundantly clear, their friendship meant nothing to her, that she wanted no part with Y/n at all. So, what were she doing, indeed?

Daphne swallowed thickly, guilt pooling in her stomach, knowing what she meant. She could be honest and risk her friendship a second time, or lie, and simply never see Y/n's face again.

"Don't say you don't know what I speak, because you do." Said Y/n, leveling her eyes with Daphne's, killing the slightest light in her eyes. "Must I recall what you said to me... What you never want me to forget. I don't want to be your friend anymore, Y/n. I think it's best, that you and I make our separate ways." Her tone, sharp and mean.

"You lied to me, to yourself. You never thought it best for us to go our separate ways. If you did, you would not be here, you would be happy with Lady Whistledowns latest publish, leaving me be... Like nothing had changed."

Y/n spoke with confidence, anger, bitterness and unforgiveness. But behind her words, something sad, hurt and betrayed lived there. Something Daphne did not miss, hurting herself in the process, shifting her gaze to her hands, wanting to disappear, hating herself for allowing her heart to fall so far.

"Why did you lie?" The crack in her voice, sounded false, fictional, but one glance in her eyes, Daphne was sure her heart shattered. She had missed Daphne, wanting to let her go as quickly as she had come. Heal quickly and move on. But her heart wouldn't allow it, wouldn't allow her to patch and sew herself back up again, until she had the truth.

Daphne's throat ran dry, she didn't know where to start, or even say anything, but her chest ached, she had to tell her. Sucking in a breath, Daphne steadied herself, bracing the threshold.

"I didn't want to let you go. I wanted to keep you, to steal you, to force you to stay and never leave my side... Not even for a man, for a Suitor, or for a husband." Daphne shook her head, laughing at herself. "Frankly, I wish I were a man, for a far different reason than Eloise. I wish I were born with a penis, because my affection for you... They're abnormal, wrong, forbidden... Strangling me, starving me of oxygen." Daphne sniffles, tears clogging her speech, her smile strained and tight.

"I wish to have you as a Suitor wishes to court you. Y/n I never wanted to go our separate ways, but what were I to do! You wish to wed a fine man, but I am a woman... You hate me, you don't feel the slightest affection for me... You'll love, and I'll die." She cries into her palm, body shaking, nose sniffling.

Y/n's mouth fell open, gaping, soundless. She did not expect her own friend to spill her heart out to her, to love her as a husband loved his wife. Y/n was speechless.

"You wish to be a man, for me?" Y/n leans forward, freeing Daphne's hands from her face, staring into her puffy eyes, searching for truth.

Daphne quivers. "Disgusting, for a woman to wish to be a man, so she could be free to love the woman her heart longs for." She chokes, leaning into Y/n's shoulder, her hand guiding her head, cuddling her closer.

Y/n grins, stroking Daphne's hair.

"You say disgusting, I say romantic." She giggles, rolling her thumb over Daphne's arm.

Daphne tilts her head up, gazing up at Y/n, clearly confused.

"What?" Her question barely, audible.

"If you wish to be a man for my heart, why not have it?" Y/n held her chin between her fingers, gently kissing her, sealing her vow.

"You do wish to have my heart?" She asks once a part, allowing Daphne to process the moment.

"Yes! A thousand times yes!" Daphne smiles, snatching another kiss, holding Y/n so very close, their chests embrace each other.

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misstycloud · 2 days

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Can you do yandere boyfriend and yandere in-laws

You and your husband were driving up north to visit your in-laws. They were a nice couple who’d decided to move to a small town after retirement. It made sense to you, after decades of work and stressing over all that life throws at you, who wouldn’t want a little seclusion?

For the entirety of you and your husband’s relationship, he’d talk about his parents and how glad he was to have what they have; he loves you so much. They were his role models in just about everything. It was a bit weird to you how inspired he seemed by his parents relationship, sometimes. He could go on and on about how he was lucky to have you and you two were going to be together forever- like his parents who’s been married for a little over 30 years. He’d also never fail to mention on how he would give you everything and tread you right- again, like his dad does his mom. However, you shook it off as him admiring them and being very close, especially since he’s an only child.

That was not all. From the moment you met them in person, you had a strange underlying feeling regarding them. You hardly believed they were criminals or something of that kind, but there was something. For example, you’d catch his mother watching you from time to time. It could be when you’re outside in the garden and you’d notice her watching from the kitchen window, quickly averting her gaze and busy herself with the dishes. Or when his father insisted to accompany you to the grocery store despite his now-bad leg. You had told him he should stay at the house and that you didn’t need help or anything, but he dismissed your rejections. Not to mention their willingness to help your with just about anything, and your mother-in-law did not spare any expense in the seemingly random gifts she bought you. Mind you, this was back when you and your husband hadn’t even been together that long and you’d barely gone over the official couple threshold.

“We’ll be there soon, honey. It’s not far now.” Your husband said to you, giving you a quick glance before fousing back on the road ahead of you.

You smiled and responded, “That’s good, I can’t wait to get out of this car.” You sighed and looked at the fields passing by outside the car window.

With a frown, he asked, “Are you feeling nauseous? Does your back hurt? Are you sore anywhere? Should I stop?” Immediately he began ranting about your comfortablility like he’s done all through your relationship.

“No!” You exclaimed. “There’s no need to stop, I’m fine. Just feeling a bit cramped up is all. It’ll be better when we’re there.” You explained while grabbing his hand and showing that you’re good.

He side-eyed you for a second, as if he was trying to find evidence you were lying. Then he breathed out in relief, “Okay, I don’t want you to be in any pain or be uncomfortable in any way-especially now.” Your worrying husband let go of you to move his hand over stomach and stroke it in gentle movements. All while still keeping an eye on the road, of course. It wasn’t long until his happy mood bounced back. “I’m so glad we managed to come out here, it’s feels like ages since last time. And I know how anxious my mom has been to see you again.” He chuckled at his mothers attachment to her daughter-in-law. He would almost say she loved you more than him with how she fawned over you. Though, he didn’t mind.

You simply smiled in return.

When you finally were at your in-laws house, your mother-in-law was instantly at your side, trying to help you he out of the car despite you being very capable of doing so yourself. Your father-in-law scolded her and told her to let you be, in which she shushed him.

It wasn’t long until she started pushing gifts in your direction. Although, they were much appreciated this time around considering your current state and needs. The couple treated you to a nice home cooked dinner and the conversation shifted between different topics. After devouring the delicious chocolate cake being served as dessert, you felt it was time for bed. You had already been quite tired during your journey but it the fatigue was really hitting you now. You yawned and told the others you were going to bed, asking your husband if he was going to go with you.

He shook his head. “No, you go to bed first, sweetie. I’ll be right up, soon.” He reassured and kissed you on the forehead as a sign of affection. Then he gently ushered you upstairs and after you were out of sight, went back to his parents seated in the living room.

“Straight to bed, then?” Mother-in-law asked with a smile.

“Yeah.” Your husband answered.

“Oh, I do hope the bed is comfortable enough for her. I bought a new madress since your last visit. Lovely girl, was to afraid to say it made her back hurt. It’s rare to find such polite young people nowadays, wouldn’t you agree, honey?” The elder woman turned to her spouse, who nodded in agreement.

“I’m sure she’ll love it, mom.” Her son said and sat down in a cushioned chair.

“I hope.” she sighed, “She deserves a good nights rest. You’re lucky to have her, son, don’t forget that.” She half-jokingly reminded.

He chuckled and responded with, “Of course not. I love her more than anything. She completes me.” Thinking back to all the wonderful memories, he adorned an elated expression. “Besides, weren’t you the ones to teach me to never let go of what I love?”

“Haha, got me there. In all reality though, you did a good job taking her back. You know, I was a little worried for a moment there, thinking the wedding might be called off. I thought she perhaps found out about your…hobbies.” Mother-in-law raised a brow at her son, leaving the question open.

“No, it was something else. Fortunately.” He added. “But we fixed things and everything is as it should be.” his attention was turned towards his father, who for the first time spoke up.

“Well, relationships have been known to be a bit tricky for us” he referred to their family. “We are known for being somewhat intense with our feelings which may not always be appreciated. However, it is the truest form of love one can give and I’m so lucky to have found a partner who shares this view.” He placed his hand over mother-in-law’s who awed. “You said everything is steady, but you should still be careful. It would not be beneficial for either of you if a last resort has to be used.”

“Of course not.”

There are many stories of evil mother-in-law’s who despised their sons wife for the simplest of reasons. They would be cruel and treat the wife worse than dirt, all while playing innocent whenever someone had payed a little closer attention. She hated those women. How could one treat their child’s one-and-only that way? Though, she knew her view on love and relation did not match the majority of society so that might have something to do with it.

She absolutely adored you. You were simply perfect for her son. Kindness, humility, beauty- these were only a small range of your qualities. In a way, you were like the daughter she wished she had. Of course she wasn’t disheartened with her son’s birth, she would love her child no matter what, but she couldn’t lie and say the thought of a little girl wasn’t tempting. It would be so fun dressing up, doing each others hair, teaching her how to do makeup if she was interested.

She wanted to do those things with you someday. Sadly, she could sense you being a bit apprehensive to her company at times. She knew it was likely due to the excitement she radiated. She couldn’t help it, though! You are just so sweet it makes her want to bite into you like a piece of cake(don’t worry she wouldn’t actually). Mother-in-law has reminded herself to keep things down as to not overwhelm you, but it’s hard. If only she had the level of control her husband did.

Father-in-law is a admirable, hardworking man. He is clear-headed and calm; rarely does anything get to him. Although most would think him somewhat scary and stern, you actually like him a lot. He is not all toughness as he might want you to believe, in fact, he’s been very kind to you. That’s not to say that mother-in-law hasn’t been, but it’s just different with him, somehow. You felt like the two of you had a mutual understanding of kinds, and you also liked that he understood not to smother you.

He thinks you’re a wonderful addition to the family, even if he wouldn’t shout it out for the world to hear. He’d be too embarrassed. You are a good person and great match for his son. You’ll make him happy beyond measure, which is what father-in-law wants. Now that you’re permanently in the family, he often thinks of the things he and his wife taught their son. Now, he doesn’t hope you’ll ever have to find out about them since he’s not sure how you’d respond to that knowledge; most don’t respond positively and it’s likely the same for you. They could damage you forever.

Father-in-law promises to protect you since you’re part of his family now, and he’ll do anything for his family.

#oc #yandere oc #male yandere #obsessed #possesive #toxic #misstycloud oc #yandere x reader #yandere husband #Yandere mother in law #Yandere father in law #yandere in laws #platonic yanderes #platonic in laws #platonic yandere in laws

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reiderwriter · 13 hours

Text

🧺 Any More 🧺

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024

Requested: spencer realizing that he’ll never love someone as much as he loves you. (whether that be because of a case or what have you), his mind is absolutely blown with how much he worships you and how much you love and care for him and he shows you that with the softest most sickeningly sweet sex you and him has ever done. <3

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI! Discussions of case details, case burnout, very close friends to lovers, oral (f receiving), vanilla sex (p in v penetration). Discussions of mental health, and two idiots in love.

A/N: I'm hitting the prompt Vanilla for this one, so please don't be scared off by the KinkBingo tags! I had a lot of fun writing this one (and adding Pride and Prejudice quotes into the smut scene because HELLO). Let me know what you think in the replies~♡

Masterlist || Bingo Board

You hadn't seen Spencer in 100 days. Which in the grand scheme of things wasn't that long, trapped in the purgatory of a ‘what if’ the way you had been for the last eight years.

You'd lived without him for longer than 100 days before. He'd been in prison, you'd been on assignments, you'd lived an entire life before meeting him, but now somehow 100 days was too much time, and you were exhausted. You understood why Spencer had to take some time away from you, from the team in an official capacity after everything he'd been through. You supported him even.

But when even your free time didn't overlap anymore, you wondered if your relationship would ever be the same again.

Spencer was a friend, your best friend, probably. You'd arrived on the BAU team, he'd rattled off some statistics, stammering the way through them, and you'd immediately warmed to the man. He was brilliant, funny, and fiercely loyal, and you tried your best to protect him even when the job seemed designed to break people like him into thousands of little pieces.

You'd tried to convince him to leave before, after Maeve had died. You didn't want to see him heart broken again, but no one else had seemed to agree.

“Reid needs purpose,” they'd said. “Reid needs something to do.”

What Reid needed was to not end up dead before he had a chance to be happy, and happiness didn't come often in your field of work.

You'd been almost vindicated a year later when he'd been shot again, almost fatally. Vindicated, maybe but distraught and inconsolable. Morgan had to carry you screaming and clawing out of his hospital room multiple times. It sounded stupid enough to yourself that it was only then you realized your feelings for the man.

You wanted to be Spencer Reid's happiness, which was why you were so lost without him.

He was coming back on Monday, and at least you had the weekend to sort your feelings out about everything.not just about him, but about the job you'd found didn't fit you well enough anymore, about the team you loved like family, about the relationship you knew would likely never come to fruition.

You dumped your bags at your door when you'd arrived in your house that night, pushed yourself into your bedroom and let yourself collapse on your bed, balling up into as cozy a position as you could. You didn't even bother taking your jacket off, you just let your brain haze over and sleep rush in.

Three quiet raps at your door lifted you up and out of bed again, not an hour later.

You grabbed your phone, grabbed the second go-bag you kept at your house, put your shoes back on, and opened the door, expecting Emily and a new case.

“Where are we going?” You said, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, not even looking up at your guest.

“Hopefully, nowhere? I brought takeout.”

Your eyes widened then, taking in all 185cm of Doctor Spencer Reid, tweed jacket and plastic bag full of chow mein included.

“Spencer,” you breathed out, like a sigh of relief, letting the bag drop to the floor next to the first one and letting yourself into his arms.

He held you carefully there for a second before leading you back into the apartment, wrapping an arm around you and ruffling your hair. It was brotherly, and it made you sick to your stomach.

“What are you doing here?”

“Emily said you were back from a case,” he started, unpacking the takeaway from the containers. “And it feels wrong to eat this without you.”

You rolled your eyes and followed him into the kitchen, pulling two forks out of the drawer nearer you and stabbing them in the top of your two cups.

“Hey, I can use chopsticks now,” he said, defending himself against an inside joke. Spencer was always useless with his hands.

“I don't care if you can use them, I care that they don't accidentally end up stabbing me,” you said, taking yourself back to your bedroom, Spencer following.

“You'd hardly die from being stabbed by a wooden chopstick, maybe a papercut or a splinter but-”

“But you're just bad enough that I don't want to risk it.”

You kicked off your shoes again and climbed onto your bed. Spencer followed.

“Remind me again why we aren't sitting on your couch?”

“Uncomfortable.”

“Or at your breakfast bar?”

“Glorified filing cabinet right now. Eat.”

He shook his head but complied, leaning back against your pillows as you both began carefully eating. Silently, you pulled your laptop onto your bed, opened it up, and pressed play on a movie, one you'd seen more than once, and you'd forced Spencer to watch before as well.

In a comfortable, friendly silence, you finished your food. You stretched out in a yawn once and then curled into his side, letting his mumbling voice, repeating the movie lines as they were spoken, lull you softly into sleep.

Spencer knew he had to leave, but he couldn't bring himself to wake you. The movie had finished hours ago, he'd closed the laptop and turned off the bug lights, but he couldn't leave.

Unlike you, he hadn't counted the days that you'd been apart. He hadn't needed to. He knew you'd be waiting there for him when he returned, knew you'd give him a smile and a pat on the back, and immediately start bouncing ideas off of him. It was what he loved about you.

As he laid next to you in your bed, a place he'd absolutely been before, his heart thumped. Just once, but hard.

Even in sleep, you looked exhausted. Your shirt was crumpled, hair a mess, you were still wearing makeup, and he knew he'd probably get an earful for letting you sleep like that in the morning. You were a mess, and he still wanted you.

The thought came to him suddenly, another painful thump of his chest echoing in his mind. He rubbed absent mindedly at his chest as if experiencing heartburn. In the dim light of the room, he let his head drop to the pillow and wrapped two shaky arms around you and pulled you in closer.

The two of you were a picture - both in suits, both with badges still somewhere on your person, both dearly clinging to the person they feared losing the most.

When you woke the next morning, it was actually the afternoon.

“Spencer,” you groaned, melting under the heat of his embrace. Somehow, during the night, he'd rolled on top of you, pressing you into the bed with a delightful pressure, head nuzzled into your neck, arms tucked around your waist.

“Spencer, we should get up,” you said again, forcing your eyelids apart as your mascara tried to glue them together.

“Mmmmhh,” he groaned, moving to pick himself up off you for a minute but lowering himself again. If asked, he'd blame your hand in his hair, stroking the rogue curls gently, as if he were a prized pet and you their carer.

“Spencer, its 2pm.”

“On a Saturday.” You laughed at how pouty his voice sounded, but he complied and rolled off of you slightly, arms still wrapped around you.

“Come on. Get up. I've got some clothes that might fit you, let's get you out of the tweed.”

He huffed but nodded and lifted himself halfway to upright, eyes still closed lazily as he let in the light millimetre by millimetre.

“God, my face feels horrible,” you said, itching at your nose. “How did we even sleep so long like this? My belt is still on, Spencer, my belt.”

“If you were still wearing a weapon, then I'd be worried,” he smiled.

You shot him a sarcastic look and finally detangled yourself, only to clasp his hands and pull him forward as well, letting him trail you to your closet.

“Here, change in the bathroom,” he nodded and walked away, following directions with eyes still closed, as if it were really his apartment and not your own.

100 days without him, and it was as if it had only been 100 hours. Your entire body chemistry changed when he was around, the stick holding your spine rigidly in place, dissolving into calm, into a smile and a free giggle. It felt right again, and you almost forgot you'd ever felt wrong.

After briefly changing, you swapped place with Spencer, who'd exited the bathroom with a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth and wet hair.

“Dry it for me?” He asked, sitting on your couch, and you nodded your ascent. A shower and a quick change later, and you were doing just that.

As much as he tried to keep his head upright, it kept lolling onto your thigh, yawns stretching out of him as he nuzzled closer to you.

“Spencer, you're like a big kid, keep your head up.”

“I'm not a kid,” he laughed, hooking his arms behind your knees and nuzzling closer into your soft sweats. “I'm just tired.”

“You're right. A child would probably be better behaved.”

“Our child would be,” he sighed, but you'd already turned the hairdryer back on, drowning out everything. Everything but that thump again. A child, he was thinking about children, and more importantly, he was thinking about your children. With him.

He'd always imagined himself with a family, knowing it would ultimately stay in his imagination. But for a second, his visions changed. It wasn't just a child or two. It was you. Thump.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

He only released the image when you finally pushed his head off of you and stood, turning away from him to get a glass of water from your kitchen.

“So, any plans today? Books to read, papers to mark, undergrads to run away screaming from?” You let the ice water cool your hot cheeks, but kept your back to him. You were hot, embarrassed, and you were looking at him in a sickeningly sweet way that could only be described as love struck or struck dumb.

“No, no, I finished all my obligations at the college yesterday,” he said, following behind you and picking up your cup when you set it down, taking a sip himself.

“I was… I was actually hoping we could spend some time together? Unless you had plans, which is totally fine-”

“No, Spencer, yeah, I have no plans, that's…. Well I have to do laundry, which is a bit boring but, no. No plans.”

“Laundry?”

“Two week case in Florida, I don't know how you didn't smell me yesterday, Spencer. I'd be running for the hills.”

He laughed and stepped away again, grabbing the two go bags by the door and coming back into your space.

“How about we get this done now so we can spend the day in a Who-Trek marathon?”

“Make that a Who-Greys Anatomy Marathon, and you have yourself a deal.”

He pouted again, and you snorted at the sight, taking another sip of water to calm yourself before you could react safely to that face.

“Come on, you know you've been dying to know what happens next at the Grey Sloane Memorial Hospital.”

“I thought it was called the Seattle Grace Mercy?”

“Oh we better get to that laundry now. You have a lot to catch up on.”

Grabbing a bag in one hand and his free hand in your other, you made your way down to your building's laundry room. But despite the man by your side and the relaxing day threatening to stretch ahead of you, a gloom caught you in the corridors.

You'd worked for two weeks, practically solid. You'd killed a man two days ago, or at least someone on your team had multiple shots having been fired. Another day on your job, another unsub felled, and everyone else was content with this just being a part of the job description.

It felt like each step towards the laundry room, each thing you did that was normal, that was regular, threw back in your face the pain you endured to save lives.

The bag in your hand weighed you down, pulling you lower and lower by the second.

You reached the laundry room, and you found the weight almost unbearable, stopping just before you could step in. You didn't have to think about what came next though, because suddenly the bag was out of your hands and Spencer was sorting your laundry for you.

“It's a Saturday, so your neighbour's won't complain if we separate the darks and lights into two machines, will they?” He asked, not looking up at you as he worked pouring out the fabric softener and the detergent. “Y/N?”

You hadn't noticed the lightness in your body until the tears hit your cheeks, the weight gone with his support.

“Y/N, what is it? What's wrong?” He said, hands cupping your face, because of course he was immediately at your side.

“I-I can't do it, Spencer…” your voice shook, pitching upwards, your vision blurring with tears.

“Can't do what, Y/N? Talk to me please, let me help?”

“I can't do laundry!” You said, finally bursting into a full fit of tears and burying your head in his waiting chest.

“L-Laundry?” He said, trying not to laugh, but the smile slipping out anyway now you were holding him.

You only sobbed again, nodding into his shirt, aware you were probably leaving snot all over it but not being able to care. It was your shirt anyway. You would just have to add it back to your laundry pile.

The thought set you off on another wave of sobs, and Spencer set about comforting you again. Keeping an arm wrapped around you, he put his quarters into the machines and set them off before quickly ushering you back up the stairs into your apartment.

“Y/N? Y/N, please talk to me,” he begged, smoothing your hair out of your eyes as you tried to gather yourself.

“I don't…. I can't….” You took a breath again, aware of the way your breathing hitched in your chest as you did.

“I don't think I can do this anymore,” you said, and his eyes widened quickly.

“This? Y/N, if you mean this as in us, then I can't-”

“This job,” you clarified, hands digging into the soft flesh of his arms further as he held you, finally sitting back on your couch.

“The job. Okay, the job. That's okay. We all feel like this at some point.”

You sniffed again and refused to meet his eyes.

“But this isn't like the other times this - It's like my whole b-body is protesting, and I can't sleep, and if I don't, then I might get sloppy and an unsub could-”

“Y/N, focus on my voice. You're spiralling. Listen to my voice, let's take some breaths, and think about this for a second.”

He guided you through some breathing, a hand on your back tapping out beats even as his voice grew quiet.

When you finally relaxed, you were sat on top of him, his hand rubbing circles into your back.

“I think it started when you left,” you whispered. “When you went to Mexico, and then, you know,” you've voice thickened, and you couldn't get the words out.

“And then these last 100 days they've just been…difficult.”

“100…difficult,” he echoed, almost breathless as he listened to you.

“It's like I can't do it without you. I never had to try to do it without you, and now I get what people say when they say this job is shitty, because it is when your best friend isn't there.”

You gave him a weak smile and wiped away your tears, trying to climb from his lap. But his firm arms held you still, and you didn't really want out anyways.

“When I get home, everything is different, and I can't make myself do anything. If you weren't here, I wouldn't have done that laundry. I'd let it sit and avoid it for weeks. Do you understand?”

“Y/N, lots of people feel depressed sometimes-”

“It's not - Spencer, I don't think this is something I can medicate my way out of. I don't know what to do because I can't do my job without you, and I can't be happy doing my job, and if I leave my job I'll be without you and then-”

Your voice cracked again.

“And then I still won't be happy.” The words were barely a whisper, but they were a plea, too. You weren't sure what for.

“You can't be happy without me?” He asked, but it was more a statement than anything else. Spencer felt horrible in that moment as his chest rattled, gleeful that he was your happiness.

“I love you,” he said, outloud finally after eight years.

“I love you, too, Spencer, but-”

“No, Y/N. Listen to me. I. Love. You.” The thumping of his heart set the tempo for the choir that was his senses to begin singing, as he finally leaned forward and kissed you.

“I love you, and I don't care if you're working at the BAU or if you're avoiding laundry at home. I, god, you're amazing and wonderful, and you're a human being, and you've our yourself under so much pressure for the last decade to keep me alive, to keep all of us alive really and….”

He took another breath, leaning into kiss you one more time.

“And you deserve a break.”

“W-When we take breaks, people die.”

“Did anyone die when I was teaching for the last three months? When JJ went on maternity leave?”

You shook your head, but your brain was still a mess.

“You all had reasons, I-”

“You have reasons, too. Y/N…. Y/N, let me be your reason.”

For a moment or two, Spencer truly thought you were going to say no. He thought you would get up and walk away, or better yet, ask him to leave and never come back.

So when you pressed your lips to his, he was sure that this was a dream.

But to you, it was salvation. Spencer Reid's love was the lifeline you'd been thrown, and it was buoyant enough to make you start floating.

His hands kneaded the flesh at your hips as he pulled you closer still to him, his tongue slipping into your mouth to explore every part of you there.

“Y/N… love…you,” he mumbled with each spare breath he caught, and you only detangled your lips to hear him say it again as he pressed similarly heated kisses against every inch of your exposed skin.

When Spencer's mind lost its ability to create original speech, he leant back on a lifetime of information, of learning love through books and people and marathons with you.

“I know that all I know right now is that I love you. And I know that I always will,” he whispered, lifting you and carrying you back to the bed you'd only crawled from an hour hence.

A hand slid under your shirt, and slowly pushed it over your head, letting it slowly drop to the floor as he held you tenderly.

“To me, you are perfect.”

His mouth found one nipple, and he gently kissed, then suckled at it, hands softly caressing your stomach, feeling along every ridge of you as you writhed under him.

“Of all the FBI Units, in all the towns, in all the world, she walks into mine.”

“Spencer,” you said, voice still thick with tears, but these ones more tender, more joyful.

His hand eased your sweats over your ass and off, his hips settling between your legs as if he found the place he was made to lie forever.

“The truth of it is, I’ve loved you from the first second I met you.”

His mouth trailed lower until his tongue hit your clit, brushing against it languidly, as if it was his deepest desire to taste you and nothing else ever again.

His tongue flattened and flicked and pushed inside of you as you replayed his words again and again and again. You found yourself repeating them with him.

“I love you,” you echoed as he pushed a finger inside of you.

“I.. love you,” you gasped as he added another.

“I love you,” you screamed as your back arched up off the bed, finding your pleasure in his tongue, just ad you'd found love in his words.

“You have bewitched me body and soul, and I love….” He freed his cock from his pants, and took it in hand.

“I love…” With another kiss, he pressed the tip of it against you, asking for permission silently as you nodded your head.

“I love you.” He pushed in slowly, but it wouldn't matter how he did it because now you knew how he felt, and you didn't want to return to a time of not knowing.

Hooking your legs around him, Spencer dropped his forehead to yours and looked you directly in the eyes as he began moving. In and out, he thrust, mouth open in a moan of pleasure, likely mirroring your own.

The poetry, the movie lines, they were gone now, and Spencer was left with nothing but you, and love, and love for you.

“Spencer,” you moaned out, and he felt his chest swell. Pride. His name on your tongue, his body pressed to yours, claiming you as his ad you claimed him as yours.

He came with a shudder and you were not far behind, his undoing sending a shiver up your spine as his fingers grazed your clit again.

You sat panting for a minute, still attached, still forehead to forehead.

You weren't sure if it was him who giggled first or if it was you, but you were glad it was one of you.

You spent the rest of the night, the rest of the weekend, wrapped in his warmth, dressed in his love, taking each day a step at a time as you basked in his adoration.

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