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#I can’t believe I’m finally watching it in real life
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Platonic Yandere Kitsune + Child Reader
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Imagine the most vain, deceitful, mischievous kitsune 
Infamous for killing hundreds of humans and even more unfortunate children
An actual evil menace 
He has been doing this for a good two centuries 
Already having earned his two tails 
Unfortunately, the wisdom of older age doesn’t seem to disparage him from terrorizing the kingdom’s outer edges
Almost omniscient there's no telling where he is or if he’s in disguise or if he’s been building fake relationships with others to lure them in
It’s scary but not enough to scare off children completely
Which leads to you
A nice life in nobility means you’re sheltered or at least given a nicer tale than most kids
But your family wasn’t without humble beginnings 
So the only real time you do find yourself playing in the great outdoors is then
“Hello, little one!”
He doesn’t bother to hide his fox ears or his flicking tails 
He finds children are easily interested in them
Looking up from the sticks you were playing with, you offer him a smile
He smirks to himself this is going to be too easy
After introducing himself with another fake name he moves along
“Come follow me into the forest, deeper inside we can play house together there!”
“Hmm no.”
“Yay–wait. Did you say ‘no’?”
“Yeah.”
Not entirely...different but different enough
He knows some kids treat their parent’s words as law
so this will take a little more convincing
“Actually I just don’t want to play house right now.”
This is fine
Most children need a little peer pressure to do what he wants
“Fine then. Guess we won’t be able to play together, after all.”
“Okay!”
What?! 
He watches as you skip further away from his direction flapping the sticks
How irritating 
You didn’t do a single thing he wanted you to
He excuses himself to blow off some steam aka drowning some fellow in the river
He tells himself to shake it off 
he still is the best at tricking kids
He proves this by devouring the soul of some other kid with all the same tricks that didn’t work on you
But even with a full stomach, he’s bothered
How dare you?
How could you?
He finds you again maybe not at your vacation home
This time he’s a bit more direct letting his mask slip a little 
“Come with me. Please? I’m so so scared!”
“Then I’ll just get my dad. If you’re so scared.”
“NO! I mean why won’t you? You seem so brave,”
“I don’t want to go in there. I’m wearing my garden shoes. I don’t want these ones ruined too.”
He gets so frustrated 
Going to his lavish shrine where lesser spirits serve him and other mischievous yokai often come to party to complain
“I can’t believe this child is making this so difficult! Sometimes I have such a hard time not just eating them out of spite!”
“Right? But it’s the whole chase that makes it fun!” an especially powerful Chochin raves
“True that and it's more delicious!” a Kappa friend of his toasts 
It isn’t until he listens to a Yuki Ona who really makes him think
“Children bring a warmth like none other. Caring for one is an adventure.”
He remembers that when he starts to watch you again
Finally noticing the quirks that make you the way you are
What foods you like
How you like to be put to bed
It all starts to make sense to him but he still stays
He watches
And he waits
For what he doesn’t know 
He just waits
Sometimes he’ll step away to feed on an adult he comes across or an especially bratty child
Comparing them to you as he picks his teeth
He only really notices when there's a break in your routine
Part 2: Coming Soon
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Childhood dream achieved: seeing the John Rider bridge death tape
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yanderenightmare · 3 months
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TW: obsession, obsessive thoughts
fem reader
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Thinking about when the playboy finally falls in love…
It’s so silly, soft as it may sound, untrue even given his record of sleeping around, but sometimes all he wants is pure unadulterated love. A hug once in a while would be nice – maybe a chaste kiss on his cheek – or cuddles.
You hadn’t believed a lick of it. You’d only laughed in his face with a shake of your head, telling him that must have been the worst pick-up play you’d ever been the victim of. 
It’s cliché, but he’s been obsessed with you ever since.
He feels like such a loser thinking about it – for real now – rolling his eyes with a hidden smile while looking at the candid picture he’d snapped of you. 
Chewing on this tongue while fantasizing such ridiculous things – virginal nothings such as handholding or resting his head in your lap and feeling you play with his hair. Sleeping together with your clothes on – spooning each other all clingy and soft...
Whispering sweet little nothings against the shell of his ear – teasing him. Playfighting – making you squeal and giggle as he grabs you and pins you beneath him in the bed. Tickling – making you laugh. Or kissing your nose and head and hand. 
Oh, and making breakfast together, eating lunch, and sharing dinner. 
Don't get him started on showering – helping each other wash – backrubs and headscrubs. How good your hands would feel carding through his hair as you rub in soap and rinse it out. Or just face masks. A whole evening in the bubble bath.
Watching some stupid romcom in fluffy bath robes afterward with your dopey tired head falling to rest on his shoulder. Snoring and mumbling small sweet little nothings to each other.
Saying good morning. Saying goodnight. Have a nice day. Good luck. I love you. I love you more. I love you most.
And there’s more.
Baby-names.
You haven't even gotten his dick wet once – he hasn’t even scored a kiss yet, and he’s already thinking about knocking you up and putting a ring on it.
You would look too good with his brat on your knee…
Bouncing them, breastfeeding, playing peek-a-boo games, zerbert, and doing the Simba from The Lion King – all with a great big beaming smile on your face. A smile that even the sun would envy.
Not to mention the kid itself. 
He would love the ever-living life out of a little baby version of you – pouty plump lips and mochi cheeks – spluttering and hiccupping on earth-shattering sobs when scuffing her dainty little knees on the pavement – asking for piggyback rides and candy before dinner.
Or a little miniature of him. Seeing you lull little devil-faced Junior to sleep.
Fuck it, you should get both. A truckload.
He’s shaken from his thoughts when his friend snaps his fingers.
“You’ve been staring at your phone forever. What’re you looking at that’s so important?”
He can’t believe how far down the rabbit hole he’d just spiraled. Thinking about a girl without picturing her naked. He must be losing it.
“… I’m not sure…”
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BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi, Hawks, Shinso, Denki
JJK – Gojo, Sukuna
HQ – Oikawa, Kuro, Bokuto, Miya twins, Suna
BLLK – Reo, Nagi, Rin
AOT – Eren
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nereidprinc3ss · 19 days
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do you believe me now? | 6
in which spencer reid and inexperienced!fem reader are finally honest with each other. complete with tears and more than a few make-up kisses.
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this series is 18+ warnings/tags: angst but mostly fluff, i think this qualifies as hurt/comfort, HHEHHEHHEH, lots of kissing, so cheesy, you jokingly imply he's a slut, i need him expeditiously a/n: thank you guys for being patient with me!! ilysm!! i edited this until i hated it but i hope it's satisfactory for YOU guys..... as always please please let me know what you think!! and i already started the next part hehehe
The car ride is the worst of your life. 
Neither of you speak. 
And you find yourself wishing, pleading to god that one of you will say something to fix this—but each minute ticks by and the streets get familiar and a quiet song ends and you realize you were silly to ever think a twenty minute car ride would change anything. 
Spencer was the luckiest you’d ever been and your relationship is floating away like a balloon you forgot to hold on to—nothing more than a red dot lost to the vast blue. 
Maybe for him it’s easier. You’re pretty sure it is, as you risk one or two glances at his unreadable profile that turn into lingering, obsessive looks because you’re panicking and realizing you’ll maybe never see him this close again. It’s funny and terrible how quickly you’re remembering what it was like to see him at the coffee shop for the first time—how he was nothing but a beautiful stranger, completely unknown to you and worlds away. Now you’ve had him, sort of, and you’re turning into the girl who could never have him all over again. 
When he turns onto your street reality begins to sink in. Your heart is a short fuse inside your chest as he pulls into a spot and parks the car. The rumble of the engine cuts. The headlights stay on. 
For a moment, everything is quiet. You wish you could insert your own reality into the silence—one where you’re simply enjoying each other’s company and there’s no sense of impending doom to take your breath away. 
“Do you want to talk?” Spencer asks, looking pointedly ahead where the lights shine off the back of some other person’s car. A wayward moth dips and swirls into the high beams. You watch Spencer track it with his eyes. 
“I’m not sure what to say,” you admit quietly. The weight of everything you’d like to say sits in your stomach like lead, too heavy to divulge. It’s only been a few weeks of having to carry the truth around with you and your muscles are already fatiguing. The idea of carrying it around indefinitely makes your eyes sting. You’re already exhausted. 
Maybe a stronger person would find that last bit of energy to make a final push, to save the relationship just before it falls apart. 
But you never claimed to be strong.
Deep down, you must’ve known you weren’t ready for a real relationship. You can’t handle all of this pretending to be okay with things that hurt. Even if that's the grown-up thing to do.
“I tried. I really did, I’m sorry—I’m—”
Before you can get the words out your throat tightens around them and you bury your face in your hands. 
The sound of his seatbelt unlocking and whirring back surprises you—but you’re even more surprised when he undoes yours. Still, you move your arm so it can snap back into place and then he’s pulling you into him. 
“It’s okay,” he murmurs, one hand on the back of your head as you lean over the small gap between the seats, unable to stop yourself from shedding more tears. “It’s not your fault. I’m sorry.”
He’s sorry. 
For not loving you?
If it’s not your fault he doesn’t love you back—then whose fault is it? Who’ll take the fall?
But still, he’s holding you so carefully, like you’re made of porcelain. Something to be protected. Or at the very least, something to be mourned even after it’s in pieces. 
As you lean against him, lulled by the slow in and out of his breath, the inverse of yours, and the way he slips his thumb over the back of your hair in silence for a few minutes—you wonder what’s missing. Why he’s not satisfied. 
“I don’t understand you.”
The words come out flat, muffled by his coat, garbled with leftover tears. 
“What was that?” Spencer asks gently, still playing with your hair. You sniffle, adjusting your head so your cheek is to his shoulder and your lips are no longer smushed. 
“I just… I want you to explain it to me.”
“Explain what?”
You sit up just enough to meet his eyes. The movement seems to take him by surprise, but he keeps his hands on you—one slipping to your cheek and the other still loyal to your back. He brushes his fingers over the delicate skin beneath your eye and you cover them with your own in an effort to get him to stop treating you so kindly. But even now, when you’re mad at him for being so gentle in the way that he hurts you, you can’t help but seek the familiar callus on the side of his trigger finger. It’s an odd thing to anticipate missing, but you’ll miss all of him. You can’t imagine holding a hand without that familiar anomaly—a cairn to show you where he’s been and who you’re holding. 
He curls his warm hand around yours and you hold your joined fist out for him in emphasis, speaking louder than either of you were prepared for. 
“This! You! I understand that we don’t feel the same way about each other and maybe I can’t change that. But then you do this and I don’t understand why. I don’t understand why this isn’t enough for you, because it’s enough for me, and I just—I don’t know what else I can give you. I don’t know what else there is. I don’t understand why I’m not... enough.” The tears are back and flowing freely, but you forge breathlessly ahead, because you’ve finally found a way to be honest and you’re not going to stop now. Spencer is frowning, lips parted and clearly confused or shocked or something, but you continue your confessional before he has the chance to interrupt. “I want to be enough, but you didn’t even give me the chance, and I don’t think it’s fair that we’re breaking up when you didn’t let me try. Maybe if you just told me, if you explained what’s missing I could fix it and you could love me back, and—please. I just want to try. Please, Spencer.”
A car engine revs somewhere far away, echoing down the street. It reverberates for several seconds, unimpeded by any other noise. Any word, any breath. 
His voice is thin when he responds a moment later, still studying your face with a kind of scrutiny that is so indecipherable you don’t know how you expect him to respond. 
“Love you back?”
You blink. 
Your stomach drops. 
For all that you’d revealed, for all that you’d willingly humiliated yourself with your pathetic supplication—you’d meant to keep that four letter word to yourself. 
What a way to make an exit from your relationship. 
Spencer is still looking at you, keeping you pinned to your seat, and as much as you wish it wasn’t the case he’s not going to let you off the hook this time. He’s going to demand an answer, and you have a 0% chance of bursting into mist before you have to provide an explanation, so you have no choice but to say something. 
What, exactly, you’re going to say—you don’t know. 
“I didn’t…”
“You didn’t mean it.”
The response comes so quickly, sharp as a slap, that you jump back slightly, a deep frown twisting your brow. Spencer makes no effort to keep his hand in yours as you slip from his grasp. 
“That’s not what I was—”
“Just say what you mean.” Silence. “Tell me.”
It’s like he’s got an ice pick to your chest. It’s like he wants you to humiliate yourself even further, to punish you for your messy indiscretions. 
“Spencer…”
It’s a warning. You’re giving him a chance to stop this before he hurts you sadistically. Before he becomes unrecognizable. 
He swallows. 
“Please.” And then, a second later, when you’re still trying to process the quiet pain in his voice and suddenly faced with the unexpected question of who is hurting who, “please, just… tell me if you meant it.”
For the first time tonight, you notice how exhausted he looks. Slightly gaunt, even paler than usual. Shadows pool deeper in the hollows of his face. His eyes look glossy, dark crescents below awaiting to catch tears you realize you’ve never seen fall. The tonal shift has you so disoriented, so out of your body like you’re seeing yourself in his own injuries—the truth becomes the only humane answer. Even if it hurts you.
“Yes. I meant it. You know I mean it.”
“I don’t know that,” he says on a shaky exhale. “How would I know that?”
And he’s got the ice pick back at your sternum. It’s tipped in poison. The mallet trembles in the air. So does your voice. 
“You told me you didn’t feel the same. You said it was new for me and different and I was going to make things complicated and you treated me like I was a stupid kid, and—and it doesn’t even matter. This was dumb. I’m sorry I said anything, I don’t… I don’t know what I’m doing. I just.. I can’t do this.”
You’re about to open the door, every muscle tense as you wonder what the hell is wrong with you. What reduced you to the weepy, pathetic girl, begging a boy to love her despite knowing it doesn’t work like that—the same girl you’ve looked down your nose at in every film and TV show and in every high school and college hallway since you learned what self-superiority meant. Before you knew exactly what it felt like to be her. 
“Wait.”
He says your name.  
And of course you pause. 
You want a reason to stay. If you had more self-respect, you wouldn’t. But you know you’ll give him as many chances to give you an excuse as he’s willing to take. You knew that before your fingers met the metal of the door handle. 
“Just—hold on a second. Can you look at me?” 
You sniffle and wipe your eyes with the heel of your palm before turning around to face him once more. You wonder if anyone will ever have the kind of power he has over you ever again. 
The despair leaves only wisps of itself on his face—mostly he looks like he’s thinking hard about something. It’s jarring. 
“You’re talking about our phone call on Sunday, right?”
You nod petulantly with a quick teary eye-roll because obviously that’s what you’re talking about. 
Something lights in his own dark eyes as he inhales, parts his lips as if to speak, and stops himself again. Like he’s got news that he’s not sure how to break. 
“The things I said, on that call… I wasn’t talking… about you.”
Your insides feel like tangled yarn as you stare at him uncomprehendingly. 
“I mean, I was. I was talking about us. But not in the way you think, it was—” he stops, rubbing his eyes and taking a frazzled breath. “I know what it’s like to be the one who cares more. I have to assume that I’m the one who cares more because when I don’t, I ruin things. And with you, I felt like—the stakes were so high, and I thought it’d be safer for me to not say anything until I knew you felt the same. But I know that’s not fair to you so I tried to tell you over the phone that if you didn’t feel the same way it was okay. And now I’m—I’m realizing the way I phrased it was incredibly unclear and misleading, and somehow I fucked it up in a completely new way. But I wasn’t referring to you. I just didn’t want you to feel stuck with someone who can’t give you casual when you have so much ahead of you. I had no idea you felt that way about me. And I am so, so sorry that I hurt you. I never meant for that to happen.”
You blink. 
And for some reason, begin sobbing. 
Spencer freezes for a moment, then tells you to stay there and you barely have the capacity to wonder what he means as you hear his own door opening then slamming shut again. A moment later he’s on the passenger side, opening your door and leaning in. 
“Hey,” he whispers, gently pulling your hands from your face and making you turn your head to look at him. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. But that’s good news, right? Why all the tears, lovely? What’s wrong? Please talk to me.”
You take a shuddering breath. 
“This is all my fault, I ruined everything because I was too scared to tell you before and now—and now—”
Stroking your cheeks to wipe away the tears is a futile effort because they just keep coming, but Spencer does it anyway, and he speaks so kindly, so evenly it somehow hurts deeper. 
You were terrible to him. And he had been prepared to accept that. He thought you didn’t love him, and he was still willing to be the subject of all your cryptic frostiness and inexplicable cruelty. 
“It is not your fault. You didn’t ruin anything. I’m still right here. We’re okay.”
“But we’re breaking up, and—and I was so mean to you. That’s not okay, Spencer.”
You finally look at him. He’s close, eyes warm and wide as he looks directly into your own teary gaze, shaking his head earnestly. 
“You were confused, honey. So was I. It was just a misunderstanding. But… I know I was unkind to you. I cannot express how sorry I am for that, and the last thing I want is for us to break up, but if you think that’s what’s best, I’ll… I’ll understand.”
His voice is dangerously thin by the end, strained with impending tears of his own. But he’s eternally kind—backlit by the streetlamps and beautiful like an angel.  Whatever you want, he’ll give you. Even if it’s this. 
“I don’t want that. I don’t.” You sigh, closing your eyes briefly against the world as you realize the impending breakup had been a delusion all along. That you were going to let your insecurities and some sick pride end the relationship for you. All that despair had been for nothing. Or—maybe not nothing. You realize he still hasn’t said it back. But you won’t be a coward. It’s not worth losing him. You open your eyes.  “I just—I want us to be on the same page. And if you don’t love me yet or if you don’t wanna say it, or if you can’t, I get it—it’s okay, but if you don’t could you maybe just tell me? So that I’ll know—”
Before you can process it Spencer is leaning in, head angled to accommodate you, pressing his lips to yours so softly your breath catches and your stomach flips. Maybe softer than he ever has before, and it’s like taking a deep breath after holding it through a dark tunnel. You exhale a tentatively soft sigh against him, releasing air you don't have along with the fraught tension in most of your body. All too quickly he’s pulling away, hands still cupping your cheeks and thumbs stroking over your skin. When he speaks it’s not quite a whisper, but secret-soft. 
“How could I not be so in love with you?” 
Suddenly you can feel the world turning underneath you. Or maybe you’re just dizzy from lack of oxygen. Either way it feels good. A drop of warmth makes a splash in your stomach and slowly spreads through every vein and capillary until you’re sure you’re glowing gold. 
“Really?”
“Of course really. I’m—” he takes a breath of his own, and you realize how difficult this must be after what happened the last time he professed his love for a girl. Your chest aches for him. His voice is low and solicitous, but it wavers slightly. “I should have told you sooner. I wanted to, but I was worried—I was worried the way I felt for you was… too much. I am so in love with you it scares me. I still don’t know what to say or how to act around you. When I’m gone, sometimes I imagine quitting my job, just so I can come home and see you sooner. When I have a gun in my hands, I start thinking about all the things I would do to keep you safe, or—or just because you asked me to. And if what you wanted was for me to leave you alone, I would have done that. If you wanted me to drop everything and everyone to be with you I would have done that. And I know you’d never ask those things of me. But any of them, I’d do in a heartbeat. Which is… it’s a little scary, huh?”
The final sentence is a nervous self-effacing chuckle, which you can match in sound only—one breathy attempt at a laugh from your slackened jaw. 
When that’s the only response you can manage, he clears his throat. 
“Too honest?”
You shake your head as if in a fog. 
“No. Not too honest. But I’m just… I’m trying not to cry again.”
He smooths over your hair fondly. His own eyes are shiny and full of wonder as he studies you for a short while, like you're doing something much more awe-inspiring than sniffling in the passenger seat of his car. Then one hand is dropped to your shoulder and the other braced against your seat back. Finally, he pulls back to a more reasonable distance with a shaky sigh. It’s a sound of relief. You want to hug him, and all the past hims who have ever been hurt by anyone. 
“You, um—you need to rehydrate. Do you have anything that will rebalance your electrolytes? If you don’t I can go to the store—”
“You don’t need to do that,” you assure him with a small, watery laugh, loosely grabbing the wrist that brushes your shoulder. 
“But you need to take care of yourself. And I know you haven’t been drinking enough water because you never do.”
There’s a lingering overwrought shakiness to his voice, but it’s still the most relaxed he’s sounded since he came home, and you realize that the worst is behind you. The storm that you’d been so sure you couldn’t weather is somehow clearing up. 
“I can’t believe we almost just broke up.”
He hangs his head, dropping it to the curve of your neck and groaning. 
“Don’t say that. Let’s not think about that right now. Just—” when he raises his head again, and shakes it slightly to get his hair out of his eyes, they’ve cleared, like he’s on a mission to change the subject. “Let’s go upstairs. Will you let me take care of you?”
You give him an exaggerated nod, still sniffing, and the smile that grows on his face is like seeing the sun rise above the ocean. You love his smile. You love him. 
Spencer kisses you on the cheek. 
“Okay. Let me lock the car and then we can go up.”
As soon as you get into your apartment and turn on the light Spencer goes to the kitchen. It’s a small unit, but antique and nice enough, though you prefer Spencer’s. There’s still some tension as you observe him filling a glass with water, kicking your boots off by the door—but not necessarily the bad kind. You’re not sure exactly what it is. 
“Where are you going?” He asks as you pass the kitchen area to turn on a standing lamp in the opposite corner of the room. 
“I don’t like the big light.” A warm glow emanates through stained glass as you flick it on. 
“I know that. I just didn’t realize it was a higher priority than your wellbeing.” His tone is sardonic but he’s already switching off the overhead lighting for you. You give him a wry smirk as you finally approach and take the proffered glass from his waiting hand. 
“Ambience over everything, baby.”
His brows pinch at the cavalier sentiment—you never call him baby, so you're sure he knows it’s a joke—and he shakes his head with a humorous little huff of air through his nose, watching as you drink deeply. Your hand is shaking. Spencer notices and covers it with both of his, taking the half empty glass with one and grabbing your hand with the other. 
“Adrenaline,” he murmurs, kissing your knuckles. “It’ll go away soon. Did you get enough?”
You nod, smiling small but genuinely. Emotionally exhausted or not, you’re happy. 
Spencer strays, not far, to set the glass on the counter. Then he turns to face you, bracing his palms on the ledge and just watching you for a moment with the kind of smile that makes you nervous in the best way.
He beckons you to him with nothing more than a quick tilt of his head, and you shuffle across the floor in your socks til you’re toe to toe. Without your shoes on, he feels much taller. Still he just watches you for a moment—not that you mind. Your view isn’t half-bad. The faint warm glow from the lamp casts shadows over his face, highlighting all the perfect angles, deep brown eyes framed by dark lashes, and lips that still make you feel like a girl with a crush when you look at him. His hair is getting long. You’re unreasonably glad you still get to look at him like this. 
“Hi,” you whisper—something about the intimate dark of the room feels like a place for secrets. 
“Hi, pretty.” Spencer tucks hair behind your ear, eyes soft wherever they focus on your face like if he even looks at you too sharply you might break. “Have I told you how much I missed you while I was gone?”
He knows he hasn’t.
“Even when I was being a heinous bitch?”
Spencer laughs and it makes you smile too. The way his smile changes the landscape of his whole face will never feel any less like observing a natural phenomenon. It’s unfair how beautiful he is, and how you’re keeping him all to yourself in the dark on the fourth floor of an apartment building in DC. 
“Even then. Not sure that’s the wording I would have used.”
“I missed you too,” you admit softly. 
He maps your face with wandering eyes like he’s done a hundred times. Vaguely you wonder if he sees the same kind of beauty in you that you see in him. If he sees landmarks in your flaws and stars beyond the observable universe in your eyes. 
Spencer sweeps your hair over your shoulder, fingertips grazing your neck. 
“Can I kiss you?” He murmurs. 
Butterflies fill your stomach and you nod shyly, unsure of what would come out if you tried to speak.
His free hand settles on your lower back and brings you into him until you’re chest to chest. With his other on your jaw, he bows his head, and you angle yours up, allowing your eyes to flutter shut. 
Spencer kisses you so gently it aches in your chest, still cupping your face and stroking your cheek. You can’t help wrapping your arms around his middle—before he’s pulling away far too soon. 
And he’s laughing. 
“What were you drinking?”
You frown, flustered and trying to remember a time before his lips were on yours.
“Water.”
“Before that, baby. At the bar.”
You think back even further, head muddled even more by the endearment so that it takes you a moment to recall. 
“A Shirley Temple. Derek brought it to me. Why? Is that bad?”
“No,” he says, still smiling as his lips brush yours. “You’re perfect. You taste like candy. It’s cute.”
Oh. You feel warm as he presses another kiss to your lips—and this time you insist on him staying awhile. He’s happy to oblige. 
Spencer kisses you soft and careful at first, and then deeper, but still so slow, until you can’t help the way you’re bunching the fabric of his shirt between your fingers and rising on your toes to try and get impossibly closer. He kisses you the way you’ve been needing him to since he left, long and unhurried and sweet—and takes everything you give him, siphoning away all your leftover turmoil and angst until you’re weightless. You’re deprived of oxygen, you’re dizzy, and you don’t care at all. 
“I love you,” you breathe against him before he captures your lips again with a hum that flips your stomach, his hand rubbing over your hip. 
“Say it again,” he mutters against your mouth a second later, brushing hair away from your face. 
It comes out a little mumbled this time between kisses, but it comes out all the same. 
“Love you.”
He sighs into you—relief that mirrors your own. 
“I love you.”
It seems like the kind of thing that will never stop sounding perfect from his lips. 
A final deep kiss shortens into a series of smaller ones, and then he’s pulling away slowly, brushing the corner of your mouth affectionately. 
Both of you require a few deep breaths—a moment to let your sparkling eyes wildly chart each familiar curve and convex and shade and shadow of the other’s face—before either of you can speak. Spencer breaks the silence first. 
“I’m sorry.”
You frown, stirred from your brainless bliss by his unexpected apology. 
“For what?”
The fiery glow in his eyes dampens slightly. 
“For what I said at the bar.”
Oh.
That.
It feels like a lifetime away—memories seen through someone else’s eyes. Words like blows from a less familiar mouth. 
You look away. For a while, you’d forgotten about that. Ideally he wouldn’t have reminded you. 
At least he doesn’t make you look at him. He just strokes your hair, watching you examine the tiled counter. His voice is soft and soothing, like he’s appealing to a scared rabbit. Or maybe something angrier and with more teeth. 
“You’re not immature, or badly behaved, or thoughtless. I was having an emotional reaction, I got defensive, and I lashed out. It was unfair and unkind of me to throw those things back in your face when I know how much trust it takes for you to be vulnerable with me. There’s nothing I can say or do that will adequately make up for that, but I want you to understand that I didn’t say any of it because it was the truth. I said it because I didn’t understand how you were feeling and I was hurt. I was insecure and I acted juvenile. I am so, so sorry, honey. You don’t have to forgive me, but you do need to know that none of it is true.”
Once you bite your lip long enough to be sure you won’t cry again, you speak. 
“It’s okay,” you insist with a cheerfulness as natural as hard plastic, something in your chest twinging. “I was mean too. Like you said, we were both confused.”
“It is not. I made you cry.”
Sometimes you forget that he’s not like other people. He’ll never accept anything less than the barest truth. So you look back up at him and speak with a level of honesty that you hope satisfies him. 
“I forgive you. You didn’t mean it. And I have insurance because Derek said he and Emily would kick your ass if you’re mean to me again.”
You hear the sad humor in his voice. His hand runs up and down your back. 
“If I’m ever mean to you again, I personally invite you to kick my ass. And then let Derek and Emily have their turn.” He thumbs at your cheek, studying you in silence for a moment. “I can’t tell you how much I wish I could take it back.”
You stand up a little straighter. Spencer tracks you with his eyes, noting the way you smile slightly. 
“You’ll find a way to make it up to me.”
“I’ll do anything for you,” he admits, barely a whisper and the truth of it so heavy you can feel it too. 
But for tonight you can’t contend with more weight. 
“You know what you could do right now?”
The mischief in your tone is obvious, and he hesitates, like he’s not sure he wants to let you move on from this so quickly. But eventually he plays along, pressing his thumb into the dip of your back and speaks lowly, just as you’d hoped he would. 
“What’s that?”
You smile slyly. 
“You could kiss me again.”
“Hm… I don’t know, three times in one night? Sounds a little excessive.”
“Do you want to be forgiven or not?” You huff. He smiles lazily, already dipping his head to press his lips to yours. 
“I thought I was already forgiven.”
“Apologies can be retracted.”
“Ah.” His next words are mumbled as his lips ghost yours. “Well we wouldn’t want that.”
Spencer puts you out of your misery, not bothering to warm you up to it before he’s kissing you with a deep need. It’s still languid, and not hungry, exactly—it’s more like an aching, mind-numbing thirst. It’s all-consuming, overwhelming to have all of his burning focus pinpointed on you like this. Both hands come to cup your face and you wonder if he wants you in ways that he doesn’t entirely understand, just as you want him. You wonder if anything could possibly sate this desire to possess him completely and for him to possess you, to trade corporeal forms—or if it’s just something you’ll have to live with like a metaphysical itch you can’t scratch. As he forces you to tip your head back for him, using his height to his advantage, breathing deeply against you and attempting to push himself impossibly closer, you begin to think he understands exactly how you feel. 
As soon as you’d sensed he wanted it, your lips had parted for him. He knows he could have any part of you. He knows how eager you are to give yourself to him. You’ve done everything to prove it, and yet you’ve never needed him quite like you do ask he pushes off the counter and slowly backs you against the wall, protecting your head with a hand as the paintings rattle ever so slightly. You gasp into his mouth and he kisses you greedier still, but his hands don’t stray from your cheeks. 
Not until, that is, you hook your right leg around his left, and he catches it, fingers wrapping under the bend of your knee. 
Never in your life have you regretted picking jeans rather than a skirt more than you do right now. 
But to your disappointment, Spencer slows down to a halt—pulling his lips from yours like they’d been stuck by molasses until he’s far enough away to study you wildly, panting just as you are. His hair hangs over his smoldering eyes. He’s disheveled. It’s sexy. 
“What?” You whisper, voice surprisingly hoarse.
He looses a dry, abashed laugh. The flush he’s sporting is incredibly charming. 
“I’m supposed to be playing nice with you.”
Spencer says it like it’s a mild hindrance. Something frissons in your core. You smile a little wider as you continue to catch your breath, which seems to please him. 
“Playing nice?”
“Being gentle. I’m not supposed to push my favorite things against walls when they’re delicate.”
Your face heats at the way he speaks of you—if it weren’t Spencer, if you didn’t know he really doesn’t think of you as an object, you’d be pissed. But instead all you can think about is how good it feels when he calls you his. 
“According to who?”
His eyes dart between yours and then down to your lips several times before he averts them to the wall beside you with an intensity that could burn holes through the plaster. Is that how he looks at you?
“According to me. I think… god, you're going to hate me for this. But I think I need you to kick me out.”
You drop your leg at the same time as you do your heart. 
“What?”
“I know,” he says, over-apologetically, “I know, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let that escalate. But we can’t… do anything tonight.” Before you can protest, he rushes to explain himself. “It’s just that it’s been a long day. It’s been a long week, actually, and I doubt either of us have slept very much, and I think you’re really drained, and probably not thinking super clearly. I don’t think you’re in the best place for decision making.”
You look pointedly down to where he still has you pressed to the wall. 
“I think I’m in a great place.”
At that he steps back, but lets his hands find yours and pulls you away from the wall—just not quite as close as before. His nose bumps against yours as he speaks low and sweet. 
“I understand that you want me to stay right now. But it’s not a good idea to associate fighting with physical pleasure. That can set some really dangerous patterns.”
“We’re not fighting,” you plead, matching his tone as you look up at him with big eyes. His fingers lace with yours. 
“You’re right. Maybe fighting was the wrong word. But we had some pretty intense conversations today, didn’t we?”
Reluctantly you nod. 
“Right,” he agrees. “Same premise. We need to be able to have those conversations without getting distracted.”
In a last ditch attempt to get him to change his mind, you give him your best approximation of the imploring, wide-eyed gaze he sometimes uses on you. Something not entirely smile and not entirely smirk twists the corners of his mouth. When he ducks down to kiss you quickly, you reciprocate, but you lack the enthusiasm of earlier. 
“Hey.” 
“Hm,” you respond, dejectedly. 
“Don’t get all grumpy because I don’t put out.”
That puts a disgruntled little smile on your face as he probably knew it would. 
“I guess you just gave it up easy to all those other women.”
He grabs your chin and gives you a final peck. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve never been with other women.”
“Mhm,” you grumble good-naturedly, pushing away from him and going to the door to undo the deadbolt. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”
“Wow. I really must have overstayed my welcome if that’s the goodbye I get.”
You turn back around, brows raised. 
“Oh, I was prepared to be very welcoming. This is your doing.”
“Uh-huh. Come here.”
Happily you skitter back across the few feet of wooden flooring and wrap your arms tightly around him one more time, pressing your cheek to his chest. He’s ready, winding his arms over yours and rubbing your back. It’s eerily similar, you realize as he presses his face into the concave of your shoulder, to when he’d left on that most recent case. 
But at the same time—everything’s different. 
And you won’t make the same mistake twice. 
“Hey,” you smile, resting your head on his shoulder. Spencer pulls back to look at you, a similar grin on his face. 
“Hey what?”
“I remembered what I was gonna say.”
The grin widens. He knows exactly what you’re talking about. 
“Tell me.”
“I was going to tell you that I love you. And—I hope you’re not one of those people who’s uncomfortable being told that often. Because if that’s the case I’m really going to annoy you.”
“I’m not that kind of person,” he assures. “Tell me as often as you can.”
“But you should say it back. It’s more polite that way.”
“I love you,” he murmurs, in a voice more serious than your teasing tones had been but still soft and sweet around the edges. “You know, people talk about love as if it’s completely irrational and illogical. But with you… I think the world actually makes more sense than it used to. I understand things I never did before. You’ve taught me a lot.”
It’s like a lightshow in your stomach. You wonder if he has any idea the effect his casual musings have on you.
“You already knew everything.”
“Not everything,” Spencer whispers. “Not about the things that matter.”
And you’re fresh out of teases. All you can do is look up at him with big eyes again, in awe of the fact that you get to keep him after all. 
“Will you text me when you get home?” You request, voice reverent in the wake of an admission you could never hope to top. 
“I will. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
You nod, because it doesn’t even matter if you had other plans tomorrow. They’re as good as cancelled. 
Spencer kisses your cheek, and you get the sense that things are still being left unfinished. There’s an unresolved tension that you can’t shake, even after all the apologies and kisses and sweet words. Still, he made a point with his talk about not mixing argument with pleasure, and you’d like to respect those wishes because you respect him—even if every atom of your being shakes with desire to keep him locked in your bedroom, hidden away from the world together, for as long as you can possibly manage. 
Eventually, you loosen your hold, and you let him go. He lingers at the door, hands in his pockets, just watching you and mirroring your small smile as you hold onto the counter with an iron grip to keep yourself in check. After he finally peels his gaze away from yours and silently closes the door behind him, you stand there, staring at the wood for at least a minute.
Once you manage to shake yourself from your revery with a deep breath, you grab your glass from earlier and stand in front of the sink, watching it fill with a white jet of water. It’d be a shame to admit it to him, but maybe Spencer is right. Maybe you do need time to emotionally digest today. After all—that was technically your first argument. It seems to have left you sort of wound up. Not in a bad way, per se—maybe you just need to take a shower, let the hot water roll over your shoulders and wash away the frenetic energy that clings to you. 
Still, something tells you that you won’t be getting much sleep tonight, even if you do take the world’s longest shower. You’re simply too high-strung. You wonder if having Spencer here would fix that or make it worse. But ultimately, he’d made the call that it was a bad idea for him to stay, and you’re generally inclined to trust his judgement. 
The thought makes you laugh into your cup as you drink. Even after the debacle that was the past week, you trust him to know what he’s doing. Maybe you need to rethink that, at least temporarily, until he’s had a chance to redeem himself. 
Just then, your front door is opening with absolutely zero warning and slamming shut again before you can finish whipping around. Your heart threatens to choke you and you almost drop your glass, clutching your chest. 
“Jesus, you—”
But the words die in your throat as Spencer storms toward you, shrugging his coat off with a white-hot chill in his eyes. It’s enough to freeze you in place, heart drumming against the confines of your ribs. 
“You really need to start locking that door,” he breathes, tossing his jacket on the counter before grabbing your face and crashing his lips into yours, palms pressed to your jaw and fingers pushing into your hair. You stand there, hands hovering in air before you gain the wherewithal to blindly set the glass down behind you. Your heart is pounding as you immediately submit to the kiss, whining softly against his lips and cautiously seeking stability in the fabric of his shirt. Spencer pulls away only briefly, allowing you to gasp for much-needed air. His brown eyes are like molten gold on you, pupils blown wide and wild as he scans your face, taking heavy breaths of his own. “Anyone could just walk in.”
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querenciasturniolo · 5 months
Note
chris or matt x fem!reader please !!! i legitimately cannot choose between them for my life so you can choose :) maybe reader’s also like an influencer and they have this secret sort of relationship for a while and its all super fluffy, but fans are already starting to speculate that they’re together and stuff, and then at the end they finally go public with a hard launch and/or live and everyone in the comments ( or chat if it’s a live ) is going FERAL
p.s. also i’ve loved your works for so long you DO NOT UNDERSTAND and i’ve finally gathered up the courage to send in a message even tho it’s sent in with a request !
hard launch ⮕ m.s.
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word count: 911
warnings: swearing
summary: request
a/n: STOP YOU’RE SO SWEET 😭 please don’t be scared of me, i promise i don’t bite HAHAHA, ily are you kidding me 🫶🏻😭 also this was so fucking cute, i’m obsessed fr
everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.
Watching Matt stream always had your heart stuttering in your chest.
The theme for Hogwarts Legacy was playing as he was adjusting his camera, your eyes watching him closely and trying to fight the smile stretching across your face. You were sure the viewers could see you staring, considering you were sitting in the chair directly next to him, on camera. His eyes dropped from the screen as he grabbed his controller.
“Alright guys, so, we’re playing Hogwarts Legacy tonight, but I have a special guest with me, as you all can see.” He turned his head and met your eyes, his own smile growing and his cheeks tingeing pink as he caught you already staring. Introduce yourself, he mouthed. You turned to face the camera, grinning wider than before as your eyes scanned over the chat.
“Hey guys, I’m the guest, obviously. My name is Y/n.” You said.
did anyone else see the way she was staring at matt ? they’re in love, confirmed
she’s so real, i’d be staring too
i can’t even handle this, she’s so cute
“Basically, Y/n’s going to play while I tell her what to do. She’s never held a controller in her life.” Matt teased, his eyes flickering between the screen and the chat as you pressed the button to start the game.
“Wait, I have to create a whole character?” You asked, glancing over at Matt as he placed the headset over your ears. He chuckled and nodded.
“Yes, you have to create a whole character, is that not what you were expecting when you begged me to play this game?” He teased. You rolled your eyes and adjusted the headset, making sure the ear that was on his side was exposed so you could hear him.
“This is ridiculous, I can’t believe you didn’t tell me I had to create an entire chara—oh my God I can have pink hair, I take it back.” You rambled, scrambling through the hair colors. Matt’s laugh next to you had you grinning as your eyes flickered between the screen and the chat.
this banter is only proving my point that they’re in love
i’m so glad she’s streaming with him this is so funny
has anyone else noticed that matt hasn’t looked at the screen once
You glanced over at Matt, meeting his eyes immediately. You couldn’t help but mirror his smile as you shook your head and faced the screen again. You created your character, groaning when you realized you had to go through a thousand cut scenes, even though you were thrilled to be playing this game.
“I never understood why you can’t see those weird horse things until that dude gets eaten by the dragon.” Matt said, catching your attention enough for you to glance at him with wide eyes and a slack jaw. You sighed through your nose and shook your head.
“I forgot, you’re a fake fan.” You said, interrupting him before he could fire back. “They’re thestrals, you can only see them if you’ve witnessed death, but they’re always there.” You explained, Matt furrowing his eyebrows as you faced the screen again.
y/n being a harry potter fan was not on my docket, but i’m not complaining
her humbling matt has got to be the funniest fucking thing i’ve ever seen in my life
i love this
The entire time you were going through the beginning quests, you and Matt had bickered back and forth, your smile wide with each comeback you shot at him. It wasn’t until a knock on Matt’s door that the two of you stopped talking. You paused the game, but Matt scoffed and unpaused it.
“You keep playing.” He demanded playfully, your own scoff leaving your lips as you shook your head and continued. Chris peeked his head into the door.
“Food’s here, just thought you guys should know.” He said, Matt nodding his head. Chris left the room, and Matt turned to you.
“I’ll go get it.” He said, standing from the chair as you turned to face him. Before you could process it, he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours firmly and turned to leave the room. You smiled and shook your head before facing the screen and realizing what just happened.
oh mY GOD I FUCKING KNEW IT
DID ANYONE ELSE SEE THAT ??????
WHAT IS GOING ON MATT JUST KISSED HER ON FUCKING STREAM
You ignored the chat, trying to play it off and completely move past what happened, thinking that Matt did it on instinct. Chats were flying in at such a rapid pace that it felt as though everything on the screen was lagging. It was completely screwing up how you were playing, not only your racing heart and shaking hands on the controller.
You completely short circuited, having no idea what to do as Matt walked back into his room. He was laughing at something Chris had said as he sat down next to you and glanced over at the chat.
“Oh.”
You looked over at him and raised your eyebrows, your skin on fire as you watched his eyes scan over the rapid chats flying in at once.
“Yeah.” You said, Matt finally meeting your eyes with pink cheeks. He smiled and shrugged his shoulders, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to your nose before he sat back and grinned widely.
“I guess that was one hell of a hard launch, huh?”
tags: @strniolo , @ssturniolo , @thetriplets3 , @stvrni0lo , @gabbylovesreading , @dwntwn-strnlo , @tylerscreat0r , @toyourloves , @lvrsparadise , @angelcake-222 , @20nugs , @obsessivencrazy , @lollibumblebee , @stargirlv0id , @jellybeanbby , @idontexistman , @emssturniolo , @soursturniolo , @bernardenjoyer , @mxqdii , @leah-loves-lilies , @mattsnutsack , @champangekisses , @floofparker , @lovelysturniolo
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pupkashi · 1 year
Text
gojo’s first thought when he gets unsealed is you, his eyes are darting from face to face trying to find you, he wants to get home to you.
and when he finally does and sees you he feels okay again, he’s running to take you in his arms, his hearts racing so fast and he’s sure you can hear it but he doesn’t care.
you’re holding him in shock, your fingers digging into the fabric of his t shirt and you can’t believe he’s here and he’s real and he’s holding you. there’s tears down your face but you don’t care, you’re squeezing him so hard and he had almost forgotten how strong you truly were.
it’s only minutes later that the two of you pulls away, your hands flying to his cheeks and wiping away the couple stray tears on his cheeks, he’s smiling down at you and you can’t help but smile back.
“you’re really here?” your voice is small and weak, your eyes drinking in all of his features, afraid he’d be taken from you again.
“i told you i would always come back to you didn’t i?” he’s smiling and you want to roll your eyes, you want to smack his chest but all you muster is a small nod before crashing your lips onto his.
you’re smiling into the kiss, he giggles at the way your teeth bump against each other, but the two of you don’t pull away, even when you’re out of breath you do your best to get one last kiss in before pulling away, breathing a little heavier and your cheeks heating up as you looked at him.
you finally gain enough courage to let go of him, you’re cheeks flushing even more when you see the tight black t shirt he’s wearing, gojo can only smirk as he watches the way your eyes widen a bit.
“haven’t been home for even an hour and you’re already checking me out? I’m just a piece of meat to you aren’t i sweetheart” he’s pouting and your mouth falls open, attempting to protest but you have nothing.
“you were gone for so long what do you expect?” you quip back, you grab his hand, pushing him onto the couch before laying on top of him, your head buried in his chest as his arms instinctively wrap around you.
gojo swears he’d never felt more comforted in his life.
“missed you so much lover” you whispered, peppering kisses all over his face, satoru catches your lips with his. his heart skipping a beat as the name of endearment hits his ears.
“i missed you so much more sweets” his voice has no teasing lilt to it and your heart aches for him. all you do it hold him tighter, hoping if you hold on tight enough you’ll be able to keep from falling apart from all he’s been through.
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edwardslvrr · 2 months
Text
OBSESSED 𐙚 lando norris
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౨ৎ lando norris x singer!reader
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the one where reader releases her album about her best friend and he finally realises how in love she is with him ( based on this request )
taglist if you'd like to be added to my taglist, message me privately or comment on this post
warning this is all fake and just for fun, no hate to any of the people mentioned. Just a reminder that this is pure for entertainment хохо
main masterlist 𐙚 lando masterlist
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౨ৎ yourinstagram no location
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liked by landonorris and 2.194.958 others
yourinstagram GUTS (spilled) is out!! and the music video for obsessed too!! the GUTS have been spilled 🫀💋🧣
view all 7.194 comments
username holy shit-
username umm i fully believe this is about lando..
username the whole album fr is😭
username man is so clueless it’s actually frustrating
username every single song is about lando fr, i have no prove i can just feel it
username i’m speechless fr
username lando you better watch out babe
username came from the twitter thread.. i’m in SHOCK
౨ৎ f1fan twitter
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౨ৎ yourinstagram posted on their stories
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viewed by landonorris and 4.107.793 others
replies to your story
username you are so bold to release that and i support it 100%
username tell that man you love him, please woman
landonorris look @ you gooo!! congrats on the 50 mil streams on Obsessed! 🤩 yourinstagram thanks lannn!!
username absolutely deserved, smashed that album!!
username obsessed might’ve been fucking psychotic and i’m so here for it
౨ৎ messages yourbestfriend/yn
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౨ৎ yourinstagram no location
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liked by francisca.cgomes and 3.553.791 others
yourinstagram you guys are absolutely crazy! the support has been so overwhelming, thank you thank you thank you! am so speechless atm, don’t even know how to thank you all. It’s been a long road to this album and it feels unreal to have been able to finally share this with you. a thousand times thanks! 🍀💘💋
view all 7.958 comments
username might’ve just dropped album of the decade
username lando someone out there debating his life choices
landonorris wow big fan, can I have your autograph?!!
username bro wife her up i’m sick of you looking the other way
username BRO THE ALBUM IS ABOUT YOU OPEN YOUR EYES
username he can’t be that clueless right?
username obsessed is such a banger!
username my opinion on Obsessed is honestly I support women’s rights and women’s wrongs.
౨ৎ landonorris posted on their stories
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viewed by maxfewtrell, carlossainz55 and 2.195.783 others
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username her deluxe album about me**
username next post better be “my girlfriend just released..”
yourinstagram thanks for the support Lan, appreciate you sm!!🤍 landonorris gotta support talent right ;)
username bro the album is about you🥱
౨ৎ messages carlos/lando
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౨ৎ yourinstagram posted on their stories
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viewed by maxfewtrell, yourbestfriend and 4.184.782 others
replies to your story
username get some sleeep
username the cup is very relatable
username real tbh
username and you still look good.. 😔
౨ৎ messages lando/yn
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౨ৎ landonorris melbourne, victoria, australia
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liked by mclaren and 2.184.792 others
landonorris Gonna go get my appendix removed. Apparently you do it and you win a race sooooo… congratis Carlitos 🌶️
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username carlando!!!!
username live laugh live carlando
yourinstagram look at you holding onto your promise 😊
landonorris never breaking promises!
username DATE
username please tell me you’re finally dating
username does bro still not know her album is about him
౨ৎ yourinstagram posted on their stories
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viewed by landonorris, yourbestfriend and 4.626.781 others
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username omg finally!!
username girly wbk wbk babes
maxfewtrell took you guys long enough
username i’ve been waiting for this for years omg
౨ৎ landonorris posted on their stories
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viewed by maxfewtrell, carlossainz55 and 2.859.792 others
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username nah i’m sobbing
username bro finally opened his eyes YAAA
carlossainz55 he really did it!!
username screaming crying and throwing up
taglist - @louvrepool @italyrryx @buendiabebeta @janeholt3 @lightdragonrayne @namgification @aquangxl @sammyam @americanbluebirdrb @poppyflower-22 @c-losur3 @nxrrislando @haikyuen @evie-119 @raevyng
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starkwlkr · 2 months
Note
neeeeed a seb or kimi fic where the reader is a driver plsss
little lies | kimi räikkönen
requests are closed
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Over the years, you had a habit of lying to the media. It all started during your first season of f1 when a reporter had asked if your parents had attended the race to which you replied that you never met your parents. It was soon revealed that both parents were in the garage watching you overtake and land a podium finish. They weren’t mad since you had done it before in school lots of times, they actually found it funny.
The internet had definitely caught on to your constant lies, some even making compilations of all of them.
The media wasn’t the only ones being lied to by you. The other drivers were also victims. You remember one time when Mark and Fernando gave you a cake for your birthday then when you ate it, you started to cough. “Does this have gluten?” You asked.
“I think so?” Mark said unsure.
“I’m allergic to gluten!”
It took about two seconds for the Red Bull driver to start panicking.
“Oh god, she’s going to die!”
“Mark, shut up! I was joking.”
Fernando wished he had a camera to capture the moment Mark thought you were going to pass away.
“One day you’re going to say the truth and none of us will believe you.” Fernando said. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Yeah, sure.
But as always, you should’ve listen to Fernando.
It wasn’t until the 2014 when you and Kimi started to date. It started with one date to a drive in movie, that very night you had kissed Kimi, one thing led to another and soon you and Kimi were dating. The first person you told was some friends from your hometown, which of course didn’t believe you.
“Fuck, the old man was right.” You told yourself one day when you realized that all those years of lying finally came to haunt you.
It was after the driver’s briefing when you couldn’t take it anymore. Several drivers were making plans to go out for dinner and they had invited you and Kimi, but you had other plans since you were going on a date.
“I can’t, I have a date.” You said. Then you heard laughs scattered around the room. “What? What’s so funny?”
“Mate, you can just say you don’t want to. Last time you lied saying you were sick then we found you at a casino.” Jenson said.
“Well this time it’s real, I have a date so I can’t go.” You replied. “And it only happened once!”
“Twice.” Kimi said from beside you. It was true, you had said no to going out for dinner another time because you were planning a trip to visit Kimi’s family.
“Oh, I guess it did happen twice. But this time it’s real.”
“Sure. Who’s the lucky guy who’s putting up with your lying mouth?” Jenson laughed.
“Kimi.” You said causally.
Again, you received laughs as a response. So you got up from your seat. “Later, losers.” You said and gave Kimi a quick kiss before you left the room.
The iceman stared at you adoringly as you left. It was clear to everyone that you were telling the truth. Kimi noticed how quiet the room had gotten and looked at the other drivers. “What?”
“She was telling the truth?” Sebastian questioned.
Kimi nodded. “You don’t listen.” He got up from his seat. He could care less if they thought he was also lying, he had a date to prepare for with the love of his life.
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angelicsoka · 4 months
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SEE YOU LATER, q. hughes
word count | 1.3k
pairings | quinn hughes x fem!reader
summary | in which quinn and his high school sweetheart break up due to her fear of holding him back, only to meet again five years later.
warnings | not proofread, no use of "y/n". lowercase intended. use of the name “ellie”. this is a work of fiction, i am by no means saying this is how they act in real life.
a/n | i know i’ve already posted today but i thought i would post this as well! i changed the plot a little bit from when i posted the draft reveal, but here it is! i lowkey hate this but i finally had a surge of motivation.
quinn hughes was in love; something he thought he wouldn’t feel until he was settled in his career. a dedicated hockey player, quinn didn’t pursue love or relationships. that was until he met her. she was the sun to his moon, his everything. everyone warned him about falling in love, especially at his age and with his future, but quinn hughes ignored it all.
the night it all fell apart was the night quinn hughes stopped believing in love. it was the night before he was set to leave for dallas, texas for the 2018 draft. the couple had just finished the cupcakes she had made and were now watching the stars; well she was, quinn’s eyes were trained on her face, following the features he had come to memorize. “quinny, you’re staring.” she giggled, turning to face him. 
“i can’t help it, i’ve got the most beautiful girl in the world by my side, why wouldn’t i be staring?” this enticed another laugh from her, quinn smiling at the way her face lit up. 
“i wish we could stay here forever.” she spoke after a few minutes of silence, unable to look at quinn. she felt guilty for what she was about to do, but it was the right thing to do. 
“come with me.” the statement shocked her, and apparently quinn as well by the look on his face. he shook off the shock before continuing: “i want you by my side.”
“quinny…” she trailed off, quinn sitting up. she sat up as well, still avoiding looking at him.
“don’t do this. please.” she wiped a stray tear, finally looking to him. “please.”
“i’m sorry, quinn. but i will only hold you back.” quinn’s eyes filled with tears, but he refused to let them fall. “you know it's true.”
“no, no it's not!” 
“quinn, we can still be friends! and maybe when you’re settled in your career and if we aren’t in relationships, we could try this again.” quinn shook his head, a tear running down his cheek. she reached over and wiped it, her hand lingering for a moment. “i love you, but this is for the best.”
now, it had been almost five years since quinn had seen his ex. he hadn’t had a serious relationship since, instead focusing on his career. now, the season was over and quinn was back in michigan for summer with his brothers and friends.
“dude, i’m hungry…” luke groaned as he sprawled out on the couch. beside him, quinn sat his phone on the cushion, looking to his youngest brother.
“go get something to eat then.” he said, luke groaning once more.
“nobody will go with me to the diner and i will not go by myself. i don’t need people thinking i’m a loner.” quinn huffed out a laugh at his statement.
“i think it’s a little late for that.” luke sat up, punching him in the shoulder. “fine, i’ll go, but you’re buying.” luke jumped up, grabbing the car keys.
“let's go!” 
the ride to the diner was short, luke practically jumping out of the car before it was even at a complete stop. “dude, what's the rush?” quinn questioned, following him into the diner. 
“i’m hungry!” quinn rolled his eyes, taking a seat across from luke in the booth he had chosen. quinn’s eyes were busy scanning the menu when their waitress came over.
“hello, how you guys doing today?” quinn nearly dropped the menu, his eyes shooting up to meet her’s. he could recognize that voice anywhere. “quinn?” her voice caught in her throat, her eyes wide. 
“uh, hey.” he coughed, his cheeks bright red. luke watched wide eyed at the interaction, his eyes widening even more when a little girl tugged at her shirt.
“mama?” now it was her turn to blush, turning to the little girl.
“baby, go sit down, i’ll be over in a minute.” quinn’s mouth dropped open momentarily, looking to luke who held the same expression. “uh, sorry about that. what can i get you to drink?” after taking their drink order, she hurried off to the table that the little girl sat at. 
“dude, that kid kinda looks like you.” luke said, glaring at quinn after he kicked him.
“luke, please shut the fuck up.” luke shrugged, his eyes shooting from the menu to the little girl. she came back with their drinks, quickly taking their orders. she kept the interaction short, wanting to avoid them all together. it was her fault that they lost contact and she was the one who broke up with him. all her feelings resurfaced the moment she made eye contact with him, bringing up the need for a cigarette. she kissed the little girl’s head, grabbing her pack from her bag and stepping out to take a couple drags.
quinn watched as she hurried out, a sudden urge of confidence filled him, and before he knew it he was following her out. “can we talk?” he asked, hiding his surprise by his own confidence. 
“about what?” she asked, her eyes following the cars that sped by. she took a drag from her cigarette, hoping this would be over soon.
“you know what.” quinn was angry. angry they had lost contact, angry that she broke it off. “is she mine?” she sighed, her head dropping. she knew it would come back to bite her in the ass eventually, she just hoped it wouldn’t be so soon.
“yes.” she spoke no louder than a whisper but quinn heard her loud and clear. “i’m sorry–”
“don’t– i don’t want an apology cause i know you don’t mean it. why? why would you keep something so important to yourself? why wouldn’t you tell me? you know i would’ve stepped up, been there for you both–”
“that's exactly why, quinn! you would be so willing to drop everything, to end your career for us, for me. i didn’t want that, i couldn’t live with myself if that had happened! you can hate me for that, i don’t care, but you will not sacrifice your career to be a part of her life.” she wiped a stray tear, quinn staying quiet. “i will not stop you from being a part of her life, and i won’t force you either. i understand if you choose not to be around. i don’t blame you.”
“of course i want to be around.” quinn had tried to maintain eye contact, his eyes examining her face. he meant what he said, he wanted to be a part of his daughter’s life. he wanted to be a part of her life. 
“quinn, please.” she looked at him, “don’t feel like you need to do this. we are fine on our own.”
“i’m serious.” he held a straight face, “i want to be a part of both of your lives.” this cracked a smile on her face. she tried to hide it, dipping her head toward the ground. she put the cigarette out, flicking the butt. “when’s your shift over?”
“about an hour. would you like to meet her?” she began to walk back into the diner, quinn nodding as he followed. “ellie is kind of shy, you just have to be patient.” quinn shuffled in behind her, a smile gracing their faces at the sight of luke and ellie eating and coloring.
“oh hey, quinn! ellie was just showing me her art. i think she might be the next picasso!” quinn shared a look with his ex, a laugh bubbling up. he looked at the scribbles on the paper, a proud look on ellie’s face. 
quinn watched as his youngest brother happily colored with his daughter, a content smile on his face. he may have been thrown into a whole new world, but he could definitely get used to this.
503 notes · View notes
hintsofhoney · 2 years
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Freak
Pairing(s): Eddie Munson x F!Reader
Summary: You can't get enough of Eddie's cock and he can't get enough of you.
Tags: 18+, rough sex, pwp, p in v, smut, dirty talk, praise kink, slight degradation kink, light anal play, rough oral sex (male receiving), crying during sex, fluff
Word Count: 1.1k
A/N: Started this last night at 1 a.m. and my brain wouldn't let me sleep until I finished it, so, here it is. Also using this as my entry for @huffle-pissed’s Vibes and Valentines challenge (months late, I know, ‘cause I suck) where my prompt was, “You like it that much, huh?”, and that’ll be in bold. Thank you to my darling @makeadealwithdean for beta-ing! GIF is mine. Hope you guys enjoy!
You can also read me on Ao3!
EDDIE MUNSON MASTERLIST | STRANGER THINGS MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST
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“Jesussss fuck,” Eddie lets out, low and breathy as he watches you take him all the way in your mouth. You’re on your knees, thighs spread, topless, cheer skirt still on, and Eddie reaches down to brush some hair out of your face when you look up at him through your lashes, gentle and loving, like you’re not gagging on his cock. He grabs himself at his base with one hand before pulling back, and you release him with a soft ‘pop’. “Look at me, honey — good girl — let me see —”
You already know what he wants. You open your mouth and stick your tongue out, keeping your lust-filled gaze on him.
“Fuck, you’re so perfect,” he praises, tapping his cock on your tongue. He moves to drag it along your cheek and you start to follow it, hungry for more. He chuckles deeply. “You like it that much, huh? Jesus.” 
He seems enamored with you, almost, like he can’t believe this is real life even though you’ve sucked him off plenty. You nod eagerly in response and smile with your eyes, your mouth still open and waiting for him. 
“Shit, alright. God, you’re so good, baby,” he says, pushing himself into you again. You keep your eyes on his, tears forming in the corners of yours as his cock hits the back of your throat. “So, so good. ‘Course I’m gonna give you whatever you want when you look at me like that. Shit, are those tears, sweetheart?”
You nod around his dick, and you’ve got about 30 seconds left in you before you’re gonna need some air. You can feel the first few tears running down your face, and you know all too well what it’s going to do to him.
“Fuckin’ crying ‘cause you love my cock so much? Jesus — fuck.”
You take a deep breath through your nose when he finally pulls back, because you know what’s coming. 
“I’m gonna wreck that pretty little throat of yours. Would you like that, princess?”
You nod. Fucking please.
He smirks, grabbing a fistful of your hair, and then he’s thrusting into your mouth with abandon. The room sounds like the audio to one of Eddie’s porn movies — the ones that Steve sneaks him sometimes — gagging and panting and a dirty fucking half-choke, half-gargle coming from you every time he hits the back of your throat. Your mascara’s running, and you feel like you’re on a different fucking planet when he fucks you like this. Spit’s dripping down your chin, onto your skirt, and your arousal is definitely creating a wet spot on the floor where you’re sat. 
“Jesus. Fucking. Christ.” He accentuates the Lord’s full name with three hard final thrusts, pulling out of you completely, grabbing you by your wrist and yanking you to your feet before you can even begin to process what’s happening. He bends you over the bed and flips up your skirt, dragging his cock through your folds once, twice, before entering you with ease. His hand is still in your hair, and he’s pulling your head up off the mattress as he resumes fucking you. 
You whine, turning your head to the side and opening your mouth, sticking your tongue out, because as good as he felt, you needed something in between your lips. 
“Oh, you’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me. Fuck,” he pants, giving you what you want by placing two ringed fingers in your mouth.
You wrap your lips around them, sucking and humming contently, as he keeps thrusting into you hard and fast. 
“So fuckin’ greedy, baby. Need all your holes fuckin’ filled to shut you up, hm?” He takes his hand out of your hair and moves it down to your ass, his thumb dangerously close to your hole. “Is that what you want?” he continues. “Be fuckin’ plugged up?”
You nod frantically, managing a desperate, “mhm!” around his fingers. He slows down his thrusts for a few seconds, spitting onto your crack, dragging it down with his thumb and circling your hole. 
“Right there?” he teases, and you could start crying again with need. 
You manage something that sounds like a “please”, and it’s good enough for him. He resumes his brutal pace as he sticks his thumb in, and it’s just to the first knuckle, but it’s enough to send you into a near-delirious state. 
“Good girl,” Eddie praises, and you can hear the smirk in his voice. “So fuckin’ good at being so fuckin’ dirty.”
You let out a noise somewhere between a moan and a whine, and he sinks his thumb all the way in in response. 
“That what you wanted? Jesus, you drive me crazy with your fuckin’ whining. Shit,” he speeds up his thrusts. “I give you everything you want and you still fuckin’ whine, you notice that?”
“‘m sorry!” you manage to cry out, full on sobbing now as his cock hits your sweet spot with every thrust; moments away from your release. 
“No, it’s alright, princess. Just can’t get enough of me, can you?”
You shake your head, almost violently, accidentally ejecting his fingers from your mouth. 
“Please, please, please, please,” you chant through more sobs.
“Please what, baby? Tell me what you want,” he pants. His thrusts grow faster and sloppier, and you know he’s close, too. 
“Please, can I come!? Eddie, please, let me —”
“Oh, fuck. You can come, sweetheart —”
You’re pretty sure the scream you let out echoes through the whole trailer park as your orgasm hits you like a fucking tidal wave. 
“Fuck, oh my God — shit, you’re too perfect, I can fuckin’ feel you — ohhh, fuuuuck.”
You’re not even halfway through riding out your high before you feel Eddie filling you up, and you wish you could bottle up the sounds he’s making and keep them forever. 
He falls over you moments later, and you whimper at the loss of his thumb when he uses his forearms on either side of you to keep himself from crushing you completely, placing soft kisses to your nape and shoulder blades as you find your breathing again. He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, placing another kiss there before mumbling, “I mean it. You’re gonna be the death of me.” 
You giggle sleepily, slowly coming out of your daze. “Hey, it’s not the worst way to go.” 
He chuckles, and you feel his chest vibrate against your bare back. “Well,” he places a kiss on your temple, “can’t argue with that… You okay?” he asks, taking in your mascara-stained cheeks and the fucked-out look on your face.
“Mhm,” you reply dreamily. “Think I want ice cream. Throat’s sore… jaw’s sore.”
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You need to tell me if I’m being too —”
“I will, Eds,” you interrupt, before he can start feeling guilty, “But I like the ache, I promise.”
He huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head before kissing your temple again. “You’re such a freak.”
You smile. “And you love it.”
He nods. “And I love it.”
12K notes · View notes
boldlyvoid · 11 months
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Falling For You.
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[REQUEST] spencer reid x BAU!reader but they're in a secret relationship, and basically she gets him to watch all these romcoms, so when he makes a reference to something like Notting Hill or You've Got Mail and then the whole secret is blown.
warnings: mentions of lila archer, spoilers for 90s/2000s rom-coms, co-workers to lovers, love confessions, implied smut, secret relationships.
word count: 2.4k
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It was no secret that the newest team member had a thing for romantic comedies. From the little jokes she made with Penelope to the quote from Pretty Woman on her travel mug, she was a walking Rom-Com reference.
Hotch understood some of the references, JJ would talk her ear off about her favourites, and even Emily and Derek would jokingly re-enact that scene from When Harry Met Sally every time they had a team lunch. It was only Spencer who didn’t get the jokes, and after having to explain them all to him 1 too many times, she finally invited him over to watch some. 
The first one they watched together was Can’t Buy Me Love. Patrick Dempsey, a loveable nerd has been saving up all summer to buy the telescope of his dreams when the girl next door accidentally ruins her mom's favourite dress and needs to buy a replacement… he ends up buying it for her on the condition that she pretends to date him so his Senior Year can be his best year yet. Spencer likes the movie overall, he wishes someone in his high school took enough pity on him to make him popular. But his favourite scene is when they go to the abandoned airplane graveyard and watch the stars in his homemade telescope. 
“I can make one of those,” Spencer whispers to her. 
“Really?” 
He nods, “It would be pretty easy… maybe we could go star gazing someday too?” He asks, biting the bullet and making this movie date the first of many dates they’d go on. 
The next movie they watch is Never Been Kissed. Drew Barrymore is a nerdy reporter who goes undercover at a high school and gets to relive her teen years while falling in love for the first time. Spencer likes this one because he can relate, he never had his first kiss until well into his 20s… and she was an actress, too. When he explains that to Y/N she can’t believe it, but he has the magazine photos of them saying goodbye after the case to prove it. 
“Have you kissed many people since then?” She asks, wishing he’d move a little closer to her and steal one. 
He nods, “a few.” 
“anyone good?” 
He shakes his head, “no, I’m saving the best kiss for last.” 
She looks puzzled? “What?” 
“My best kiss will be from the girl I end up marrying,” he gives her a smile and moves his hand over to hold hers. 
“Oh,” she bites back a smile and looks down at their interlocked fingers. “Have you at least met her yet?” 
“I think so…” 
“Well, then shouldn’t you kiss her to find out if she’s the right one?” She teases, leaning into his space even more. 
“I suppose you’re right,” he teases, he cups her face with his free hand and rubs his thumb over her cheek, “are you sure you’re okay with this?” 
She nods and leans in all the way this time. Effectively pressing their lips together. And even for a first kiss, it sure does feel different. It feels like her last first kiss ever. 
Keeping it a secret at work is hard when all they want to do is stare at each other with googly-eyes, they’ve fallen head over heels for each other and not told a single soul. No one knows about their movie dates or their real dates either. No one knows they’ve spent a whole night kissing or that they really, really, don’t mind sharing the hotel room with the two queen beds. And they definitely don’t know that they only slept in the one. Together. The whole week they were away. 
After the case ends, they head back to her apartment for their mandated 48 hours off with the pan to watch as many movies as they can. 
The third movie they watch is You’ve Got Mail. 
“Rival bookstore owners hate each other in real life, yet on the internet manage to fall madly in love with one another. Based on an older movie called The Shop Around The Corner, it’s a beloved story brought to life once again by the one and only Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan.” 
She explains every movie like this before they put it on. He’s honestly only watching them because he loves listening to her talk about them. 
“You see, they both have partners in real life but they email each other every day, as friends… but you know what it's like in movies like these,” she smirks. “Best friends who have a lot in common find it easy to fall in love.” 
“That they do,” he agrees. 
He raises his arm over the back of the couch and she sits back, leaning into his side just as his hand lands on her shoulder. They snuggle up close, she hits play and he watches with glee, not knowing this was going to become his favourite movie by the time it’s over. 
His favourite line is when two cars honk at each other and their drivers get out to argue, followed by Meg Ryan saying “Don’t you love New York in the fall?” Which is something Tom Hanks says to her in an email earlier that morning.
He loves the way the old man recalls a woman of his past and called her “enchanting” because what a wonderful thing to say about a woman.
He giggles when Tom Hanks tosses aside Pride and Prejudice cause he just doesn’t get it the way Meg's character does. But ultimately, he picks it back up because he wants to get to know her through her reading history. 
“I sympathize with Frank,” Spencer whispers as he brings out a typewriter when they have a perfectly good computer at her house. 
“I know,” she laughs. “I love the tablets at work, I can’t believe you still have Penny paint the files out for you.” 
You are a lone reed standing tall, waving boldly in the curet sands of commerce. Frank compliments Kathleen, or at least he tries to. 
Spencer giggles again. “I remember what it was like being a lone Reid,” he whispers before pressing a kiss to her cheek. 
She gets all flustered, so madly in love with him that she wants to scream it from the rooftops but it feels way too soon. They’re only 3 movies into their relationship. Maybe at 10, she’ll tell him. Till then, she looks over at him and steals a real kiss. 
Kathleen is so passionate about her books in the same way that Y/N loves her movies. Spencer sees so many similarities between them that it’s really no wonder that Tom Hanks’ character falls in love with her. Passionate, kind, beautiful women will always have a place in Spencer's heart. 
Their 4th movie is another Meg Ryan classic; When Harry Met Sally, and now Spencer understands why Derek pretends to have an orgasm when he eats a good salad… 
Their 5th movie is Notting Hill and Y/N can tell he doesn’t like it very much because unlike William Tucker, the actress who kissed Spencer never talked to him again after that. 
Their 6th movie, however, is Pretty Woman. And while they shared a bed all through the last case, they’ve never really slept together. So watching a movie all about sex and falling in love really didn’t help the frustration they were both feelings. By the time the movie ended, it was almost midnight and they should’ve been getting ready for bed. 
She gets up and heads to her room, expecting him to follow but he just stands in her doorway, watching with a bit of anxiety in his gut. 
“So…” Spencer asks. “What happens after he climbs up and rescues her?” 
She stills, her heart fills with love and she quickly makes his way to him. She cups his face in her hands, staring up at him. “She rescues him right back.” 
“Indeed you have,” he leans in and presses a quick kiss to her lips. “You know what all these movies have in common?” 
“What?” She has no idea where he’s going with this.
“They all fell in love pretty quickly, I mean just look at Vivian and Edward, it took them less than a week,” he explains. “So I don’t feel too crazy when I say… I love you, Y/N. I love you so very much.” 
“I love you, I love you, I love you,” she whispers between kisses. 
They kiss and kiss and he walks with her, leading her toward the bed where they fall in and make love for the first time. It's hot and close and emotional. It's slow and steady and perfect. It’s everything both of them have dreamed of when they finally met the one. 
— 
On their second day off they watch How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days, 13 Going On 30, 50 First Dates, A Walk to Remember, 10 Things I Hate About You, and The Holiday. They would’ve gotten to more if they weren’t so wrapped up in one another. By the time they go back to work, they’ve gotten through half of her list of favourite movies. 
He’s not sure if it’s luck or coincidence or what… but their next case happens to be in New York. 
When they land, they get into their Bureau-issued SUVs and weave in and out of traffic on their way to the scene. They’re honked at multiple times and Spencer just smirks to himself. It’s not until they get out and they’re honked at once again, with some guy yelling at them to get out of his way, that Spencer turns to her and says. “Don’t you love New York in the fall?” 
She giggles and shoves him, “Shut up.” 
“It’s not the fall?” JJ remarks, not knowing why he’d say such a thing or why she’d react like that. 
“Hey, isn’t that…” Emily thinks it over for a second. “That’s a line from you’ve got mail!” 
“How would Spencer know that movie?” JJ laughs it off. 
Spencer turns to beat red with embarrassment. “I’ve seen it…” 
“You’ve seen you’ve got mail?” Derek even rides him for this slip-up. “And when do you have time to watch rom-coms?” 
“I’ve seen the original,” he lies. “It’s based on The Shop Around The Corner. My mom liked it before she got sick.” 
“Okay,” they drop it there. 
Thankfully. 
And by the time the case ends, 3 days have passed, the unsub has been booked into Jail at 9am and they’re free to go home. If they want to. Derek suggests they all go out for breakfast, and Hotch says he rather go home and sleep. JJ wants to go shopping and Emily’s right there with her. 
Spencer on the other hand, he opens his phone and sends Y/N a message. 
“There’s a place in Riverside Park at 91st street where the path curves and there’s a garden. I’ll be waiting there for you.” 
She digs her phone out of her pocket seconds later and smiles, a small sigh leaves her as her shoulders slump. She’s so in love with him it's unreal. 
“What about you, Y/N?” Emily asks her. “Do you want to come with us?” 
“No… no, I have a friend in town I want to meet up with.” 
“Looks like it’s just me and you for breakfast, pretty boy,” Derek teased, wrapping his arm around Spencer. 
He shakes his head, “Actually, I was thinking about going on a little sightseeing adventure, you know I only come to new york for work.” 
“Fine then,” Derek drops it and he, Emily and JJ watch as Spencer and Y/N head off, out of the precinct and in different directions. “I bet you ten bucks they’re meeting up.” 
“Hold on,” JJ says as she calls up Penelope. “Hey, yeah, can you tell me where Spencer and Y/N’s GPS pings in 20 minutes?” 
“I can… why?” Penny asks nervously. 
“No reason. Just a hunch.” 
When Penelope eventually calls her back all she has to say is Riverside Park at 91st Street and they know. 
Y/N gets there first, she’s never seen this place in person before. The flowers are even more vibrant than in the movie. There are bees dancing around every other flower, couples walking around hand in hand, people on dog walks and moms with their strollers. It’s just an average early morning in New York. 
And then she sees him. He comes rounding the corner, he’s carrying a bouquet of flowers wrapped in newspaper… at least she thinks they’re flowers. 
What they don’t notice is their friends on the other side of the garden, watching them get closer and closer until they’re chest to chest. He wraps his free hand around her waist, she cups his face in her own hands, and she stares up at him like he hung the stars just for her.  
“I wanted it to be you,” Spencer whispers what was originally Meg Ryan's line. “I wanted it to be you so badly.” 
“You sure did save the best for last,” she knows exactly what he means. 
Just as they lean in to kiss, as his lips meet hers, they hear it. Someone is playing “Somewhere Over The Rainbow” just for them. They smile into the kiss, shocked that their life is playing out like a perfectly written movie and then they see them.
It’s their own friends who played it. They’re clapping in the distance, “Woo!!” Emily cheers.
“We knew this would happen!” Derek throws in for good measure. 
They can’t help but laugh, Spencer pulls her in for another kiss, a longer, more hearty kiss. He loves her and he wants everyone to know. 
When she pulls back, she looks as though she could cry, so he extends the bouquet to her. It’s a bunch of yellow, newly sharpened number 2 pencils tied up with string. 
“Don’t you love New York in the fall?” 
“Not as much as I love you,” she says as she takes them, gladly. “Not even close.” 
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General Taglist 
@ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @reidsbookclub @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129 @squishyturtle @katsukis1wife @babybisexual @marsmunson86
2K notes · View notes
ovaryacted · 5 months
Text
GIRL DAD! LEON HEADCANONS
So, I was not expecting this to be so fucking long, but here we are. At this rate, this should just be considered a fic & analysis post all on its own lmao. But yes, here are some extensive headcanons of Leon being a girl dad because as a writer it’s my duty to make this man happy since others won’t (I’m looking at you Capcom). No specific age of the child is mentioned but look at this as a general periodic analysis of Leon being a father. Hope you like it! :)
2.0k words | cw: tooth-rotting fluff, just Leon being a sappy dad
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I think it’s become a universal and widely accepted headcanon that Leon would be a girl dad, and likewise that he will become the softest man imaginable. A man like him who has seen and witnessed so much violence and gore in his life, completely melting because his little girl has him wrapped around her finger is the most precious thing ever.
During the pregnancy, Leon would already be protective and gentle, wanting his partner to never lift a finger so he’d do everything and anything possible to make it an easy time for them. I also would like to think that he doesn’t care what sex his child is, whether it be a boy or a girl, he doesn’t have a preference, all he wants is for his baby to be healthy and happy. So throughout the pregnancy, you both agree to keep the sex of the baby a surprise, focusing more on their health and how they’re doing as they develop every week.
So the day you go into labor a week earlier than expected, he’s worried that things might go badly and his anxiety is on 10. But after hours of pain and distress during childbirth, the second he hears the loud shrill cry of his child he feels tears building in his eyes. He’s happy, genuinely happy that his baby is here in the world, and his emotions only intensify when he hears the words “Congrats, it’s a healthy baby girl!” from one of the nurses.
A baby girl. His baby girl.
He finds himself crying more than he’d like, and obviously, he’s trying to be strong for you as your body shakes from the over-exertion of labor, but he can’t help himself. As he watches the nurse put your crying baby onto your warm chest and notices how she instantly calms down the moment she hears your voice, he can feel his heart growing in size at the sight.
His two perfect girls, all in one place.
It’s a while before he gets the chance to see his child once they’re all cleaned up and swaddled in a comforting blanket, rocking a baby pink hat. His eyes are taking in his daughter’s features for the first time, going over her cute little nose and round cheeks. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen something so perfect, so small, and it amazes him that he managed to partake in creating something like that. Leon doesn’t believe in love at first sight, but the moment he looks at his daughter he thinks he finally understands what that feels like.
The first time he gets to hold his daughter, he’s terrified, thinking that he shouldn’t be touching her to begin with. His child is pure, untouched by the horrors of the real world and his hands aren’t unwashed of everything he’s done. He’s held weapons of destruction and killed more things than he could count. You’d have to remind him constantly that his child doesn’t know anything about what he’s done to survive, about what he’s been through, and that no matter what she won’t blame him for it and will still love him because he’s her father.
Over time, he gets used to holding her, thinking it’s almost comical how small she looks tucked nicely against his bicep and chest. Holding his daughter quickly becomes a source of comfort for Leon, feeling like the world just stops the moment he has her in his arms where she’s safe. You would find him sleeping on the couch with her on his chest, her head right against his heartbeat and lulling her to sleep.
As his daughter grows, Leon only becomes more attached. He’s always taking care of her, ready to feed her, change her, tend to all of her needs, and talk to her. In a way, he knows it’s good on your end so you can rest and recover, and he gets closer to his child, a child he never knew he could have. He could spend hours just looking at her, watch how her big blue eyes take in her surroundings, and he loves having her tiny fingers wrap around one of his own.
Sometimes at night, he’d just look over her as she slept in her crib, watching her little body take in every breath while the nagging voice in his head told him that she’s a figment of his imagination. He’d spend some nights sleeping in the rocking chair in her nursery to watch over her, not caring for his sore back in the morning. It’s a process Leon has to go through on his own, and you don’t push him in any direction, just let him handle it while reminding him you’re there to support him. He has to do it to accept that his child is real and isn’t going to disappear the next time he blinks, and once his mind finally accepts that fact he’ll be less paranoid.
Eventually, he’s around his daughter so much that he develops a sixth sense to her moods. He knows when she’s about to cry, when she needs a bath or to be changed, when she’s hungry. He gets so good at taking care of his daughter that he’s in tune with her emotions, his fatherly intuition becoming stronger the more he interacts with her. This also means that he generally hates seeing his baby girl cry, it tugs at his heartstrings when he thinks she’s upset or hurt. That’s why when it’s time to bring her to the doctor to get her first shots, Leon starts to cry when his daughter cries from the injections. He hates thinking he’s hurting his child despite knowing it’s necessary for her health, but that doesn’t mean he hates it any less.
“I know sweet pea, I know it hurts. I’m sorry darling”
For the record, he’d have a list of terms of endearment he’d call his daughter on top of her name, but the one he reserves specifically for her would be sweet pea. Of course, he’s called you that once or twice, but during the pregnancy he called the baby sweet pea when they were the actual size of a pea. That name just stuck with him, and now that he has a daughter, it’ll be the one name that’s solely for her.
Leon is always shopping for her, buying her stuffed animals or anything she remotely likes. He quickly develops a bad habit of not being able to tell his daughter “no”, and that doesn’t make her into a brat, she just has a dad that wants to spoil her. In Leon’s mind, whatever his daughter says she wants, she gets, no matter how ridiculous or expensive. If she says she wants a kitchen set and it’s tea party time, Leon will get one for her and sit down with the rest of her plushies at the table and act the part. If she says she wants a damn pony he’s gonna get it for her (obviously he doesn’t because you stop him from doing something ridiculous) but he tries and it’s endearing.
His daughter will continue to grow and develops a personality that closely resembles his own, matching her appearance she got mostly from her father, moles and all. She’s smart and perceptive, a sweetheart and so kind it warms his chest. But his favorite part of his child’s personality is her spunk and sense of humor. He makes it a habit to test out his corny dad jokes on his kid, just so he can hear her laugh and giggle regardless of how old she gets. Leon does it so he can see her bright smile, not caring if it’s just gums or a full set of pearly white teeth, it’s all he looks for. He tries to be the cool dad, and he thinks as long as he has his daughter’s approval he can do anything.
Leon is always open to spending quality time with his daughter, and if anything she’s the one that initiates. He remembers when she first started walking, her wobbly little legs making him worry when he glanced at her taking her first steps. Now that she can run mostly anywhere around the house, she’ll walk towards his direction, raising her arms above her head so Leon could carry her. He always does, always says yes no matter how his body feels. He’ll try to hold her and carry her for as long as he possibly could because that’s his baby girl and he’d do anything to make her happy. Leon is fully aware that eventually, he will get too old or potentially too weak from an injury to carry her, so he stays active as much as he can and maintains his strength for that reason.
He’s always with her, whether that be playing with her and her toys, or just talking to her about anything that comes to mind. Leon and his daughter become attached at the hip, twins essentially. She’ll ramble about things and ask him silly questions, and Leon will communicate with her too. When he does talk to his daughter, he speaks to her like an actual adult and it’s the funniest thing ever. She could be babbling when she’s a toddler and Leon would give a very lengthy explanation of the anti-capitalistic ideology and how much he hates how taxes are broken down. It would be even funnier when she starts to talk and he becomes the designated person she goes to when seeking answers to anything on her mind.
“Daddy, is the moon made of cheese?”
“Yes, I think it’s made out of mozzarella”
“Really? So does that mean cheese balls are moon rocks?”
“Exactly sweetheart”
He loves to entertain her, to make sure he keeps up with her curiosity and interests no matter how silly they are. In a way, this is how he protects her innocence and makes sure his daughter knows that he’s her friend, that he cares for her, and that she will always be safe with him. He tries very hard to keep all of the negative and toxic things he knows is out in the real world away from his kid and household all together, prioritizing her happiness and health above all else. That includes not mentioning anything about his job or what he does, and actively going to therapy so he can show up better than the last time she saw him. He tries every day to be the best dad he could be for his daughter, because he wants to be the father he never had, so he tries and that’s what matters.
His child knows that sometimes he has to go away for days to weeks at a time for work. She doesn’t fully understand what Leon’s job pertains to but just knows that he goes off to fight the bad guys. In her precious mind, she sees her dad as a superhero, looks up to him in admiration, and gets sad whenever he has to leave. But when it’s time for him to part ways with his family, she gives him a big hug and words of encouragement and love. She sticks out her small pinky finger, which Leon curls with his. It was part of his good luck ritual, making sure to pinkie promise his return and that he’ll be safe and he never breaks his promise. He always adored how her eyes carried the same determination he has when he’s focused on his missions. 
“Promise to be back daddy?”
“I will sweet pea. I’ll always come back for you”
When it comes to him out on the field, he usually doesn’t keep any form of identification on him as a safety precaution, so he keeps stuff like his wedding band at home. But his daughter will give him a friendship-beaded bracelet to carry with him, and he’ll wear it proudly on the opposite wrist that isn’t occupied by his watch. It’s not visible to others because of his gloves, but the weight of it against his skin is what keeps him going and keeps him motivated as he takes out any threat that presents itself. When he returns home no matter how his body feels, his daughter is the first one to come running towards him with that wide smile on her face. He wraps his arms around her, hugging her tightly as if she will disappear at any moment, and he will continue to do that for as long as he can.
Leon and his daughter are two peas in a pod, she is his missing piece and makes him feel whole with every moment they share. He’ll do anything to make his daughter happy, and he doesn’t mind being wrapped around his baby girl’s finger, because that’s where he belongs. 
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holylulusworld · 6 months
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Romanian Kiss
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Summary: Your fiancè leaves you for someone else. You try to get him back and meet a grumpy taxi driver.
Pairing: Taxi Driver!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Warnings: cheating (not Bucky), angst, heartbreak, meet cute, fluff, bad Romanian
A/N: This story was inspired by the movie "French Kiss" but takes place in Romania (Bucharest).
A/N2: I'm deep down the Bucky rabbit hole again so bear with me...
Words: 1,4k
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He left you. He went to Romania for an important convention.
Suddenly he didn’t call you back.
But he left a message, telling you he found the love of his life.
Love of his life? Not a week ago, he promised you forever, and suddenly, another woman took your place. One he met two days ago.
You had no choice but to catch the next plane and hit Romania to find John and win him over again. He can’t just throw three and a half years of a relationship out of the window because he met some girl half his age.
So, this is how you ended up in the cab of the grumpiest guy you ever met. He pretended to not understand your language and grumbled under his breath the whole way to the next hotel.
“Sir,” you sighed as he didn’t react. “Can you tell me where the convention is? My fiancé is there,” you tried again. “I know you understand me. Please, I need to find him. He left and met that girl. I—he can’t just throw our life together away.”
“Miss,” he suddenly said, “stop talking so much. Maybe that’s why he left you. I’ll drive you to the hotel, but I’m not a city guide.”
“Whoa, I thought European taxi drivers were nicer than the ones in New York City,” you huffed and looked out of the window. 
“Maybe you should head back then and leave Romania alone,” he snapped at you and slammed his hands onto the steering wheel.
You bit the inside of your cheek. His words haunted you like an unwanted truth. Hot tears wanted to spring free. John leaving you. The stranger taunting you. Your hopeless situation. Torn between wanting John back and running away.
All damns broke when he grunted at you and accused you of being an annoying woman. You sniffled and the tears finally fell. 
You couldn’t stop. He had to stop the car and talk to you. He opened the door and sat next to you in the backseat. “If you stop crying, I’ll drive you anywhere you want to.”
He told you his name, an odd one. Bucky. At first, you believed he lied and tried to make fun of you; but it was his real name. He talked and talked to make you calm down. While you tried to stop the tears from falling, he murmured words you didn’t understand. 
He called you păpuşă and prinţesă. His words calmed you, and you allowed Bucky to hold your hand while you told this stranger about your past, and the love you just lost.
You believed him when he told you that he’d help you find John. He had no reason to help you, but he did.
For the next few days, Bucky drove you around town. He showed Bucharest, the most important places, and helped you stalk your fiancé and his new girl.
He even let you cry in his chest when you watched John meet the girl’s parents after knowing her for a few days. And the worst was, she wore a diamond ring, making your chest tighten.
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“The convention is held in this building,” he said and pointed at the luxurious building. “Do you want to go inside and find out if your fiancé is in there?”
“I don’t know,” you said and meant it. If you met your fiancé right at that moment, you didn’t know what to say. “What if she’s prettier than me, or smarter…or younger.”
“Doll,” he placed his hand on your shoulder, “if you don’t talk to him, you’ll never know. If you want me to, I’ll drive you back to your hotel and you can fly back home and forget about him.”
“No, you’re right. I should talk to him but,” you sighed and looked down at your body. “Jeans and t-shirts won’t make him see me in a different light, don’t you think?”
“If you want me to,” he cupped your face and looked you deep in the eyes, “I’ll turn you into a maneater stealing his heart and mind.”
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“You look stunning,” he said, watching you walk out of the bathroom of your suite. “I mean…wow.” Bucky eyed you up and down. 
“I,” you shook your head. The dress felt like a second skin, but you felt like it was suffocating you. The heels were too high and the make-up too much for your liking. 
In other words – this wasn’t you. But if wearing a short and figure-hugging dress, too much make-up, and heels makes John fall for you again, so be it.
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“Go ahead, doll,” Bucky said and gently nudged you toward the entrance of the fancy restaurant. All you had to do was walk inside, pass John’s table by, and sit at the table Bucky reserved for you. He’d take care of the new girl by your fiancé’s side and distract her long enough for John to fall for you again. “He will love you.”
You took a deep breath and got the show on the road. While walking inside the restaurant, you held your head high and didn’t look at anyone. Including John.
For a second, you heard him gasp when you walked past his table, but you resisted the urge to turn your head to look his way.
You used the few words you learned in Romanian from Bucky to order water and food. The whole time you didn’t look at John’s table, always busy talking to the waiter, checking your phone, or reading the tourist guide Bucky bought for you.
“Y/N?” You only looked up when John was standing right in front of your table. He looked surprised and a little scared. “What are you doing here?”
“John?” You acted surprised too. “What are you doing here?”
“I told you about the convention, didn’t I?” He cocked his head to look you up and down. His eyes trained on your chest he murmured your name when you acted like you forgot about him, the convention, and the fact that he left you for some other girl. 
“Oh, that was in Romania. I can’t remember, sorry. With all the things going on in my life, the cancellation of our wedding and buying a new apartment I forgot about you.”
He sat down and puffed his chest. John tried, just like he did before he asked you out on a date for the first time, to impress you. You smiled and let his compliments and charm wash over you.
John and you dined together, and it almost felt like back then. And when he asked you to join him in his hotel room, you didn’t hesitate to follow him.
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A few days ago, you would’ve happily given in to his advances. A few hours ago, you dreamed of being with him again. 
But at that moment, all you could think about was the guy you ran into while chasing your unfaithful fiancé.
His lips didn’t feel perfect against yours any longer, and the weight on top of yours didn’t make you feel how you should. 
“No, stop,“ you pushed him off you. “This isn’t right.”
“Baby, it’s right. I was a fool,” you whimpered at his words.
“I came here to hunt you down and win you over again but..” You got off the bed and grabbed your dress. “Not a few hours ago you wanted to marry that woman. Tonight, you believe I’m some sexy wonder woman but in the morning, I’m still the same woman I used to be.”
He tried to stop you, but you shook your head. “Please give me another chance. I was blinded by lust and—” He trailed off. “Maybe I was scared of the future and getting married.”
“You weren’t scared of marrying that woman you barely knew,” you cocked your head and gave him a sad smile. “Just tell me the truth. You’re not made for normalcy and me.” You bitterly admitted. “I’m not exciting and wild. Only the reliable and boring woman you easily forgot about the moment you met someone else.”
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“You did what?” Bucky threw his hands up as you ran to him after you turned John down. “Why? I mean…all the effort and you let him off the hook?”
“It didn’t feel right,” you murmured and dropped your gaze.
“Why?”
“Why what?” You asked.
“Why did you turn him down,” he stepped closer to gently cup your face. “Tell me why, prinţesă.”
“I can’t…”
“Why?” He softly asked. “Doll?”
“I’m scared.”
“Tell me,” Bucky leaned closer to whisper against your lips. “Please.”
“Te iubesc,“ you whispered.
“I love you too,” he pressed his lips to yours and wrapped his arms around you. Right at that moment, you forgot about John and your past together. All that counted was Bucky holding you in his arms.
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fanficsat12am · 5 months
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when the brothers realize how much MC loves them I Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus
📜 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃!! 📜
Lucifer & Mammon
Happy New Year everyone!! Hope ya guys had a great flippin holiday time :> As always, notes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated <33 Have fun reading!!
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Leviathan
Putting himself down was second nature to him at this point—sometimes he didn’t even realize he was doing it. It especially got even worse after getting into a relationship with you. His mind refused to believe that anyone could ever love someone like him. 
Levi dreaded the day you’d finally see what he sees and ultimately decide to leave, but he wouldn't hold it against you. Why would you settle for someone like him when there were countless others in the three realms who could give you so much more…
“Hey, you okay?” you asked worriedly, noticing his glazed look and how his eyes had dimmed. “O-of course I’m fine! Pft, why would I be lol,” he stumbles out, trying to keep up his facade—but of course, you saw through it. 
As he tries to get back to his game he can feel your eyes piercing him. 
“I’m going to ask you how you are one more time and I would like you to answer me honestly,” gently taking the controller in his hands from him and placing it aside. “Now tell me, what’s up?”
“I-I’m sorry,” he said, the words not too foreign to his tongue. 
“If this is about last week I've already told yo-” “Ugh, that’s not what I meant…” he cuts you off, trying to find the right words. 
“I-it’s just…you could have had ANYBODY else, but instead you’re stuck with me. I can’t 1v1 Beel's body, Diavolo’s money, Asmo’s looks- heck even stupid Mammon’s got charm! I'm just Levi, the plain old third-born…” he bites his lip, trying to keep his tears at bay. His efforts proved futile as he felt its warm trickle slowly dripping down his face, one after the other.
A part of him wanted to take back everything he just said—to restart and pick a different approach. But this wasn’t another one of his games. This was real life, and in here you've only got one shot. It was game over, he knew he had lost. 
He shut his eyes tight, listening closely for the sound of you finally walking out those doors. He couldn't bear to watch you leave him. 
You shake your head at the absurdity of his words, cupping his face into your hand. “I’m not stuck with you, silly. I choose to be here.”
Opening his eyes back again he's met with you smiling at him, the sight making his heart skip a beat. 
“I’m here because I can’t get enough of you. I love how your cheeks would go red when I catch you staring at me,” you say, leaning closer and leaving a kiss on his cheek. 
“How your brows would furrow and your eyes would squint whenever you’re focused on your game,” sending a kiss by the bridge of his nose. 
You gently grab his wrist and fumble on the soft skin of his palms with the pads of your thumb. “How you’d start gesturing with your hands a lot when you talk about the latest anime you’re into,” you reminisce, another kiss now to the back of his hand. 
“How right before you fall asleep, you hold me closer and whisper to the dead of the night how much you love me,” you say as you end it with a tender kiss to his lips. 
“And each day I find myself falling for you even more. They could try to give me the whole world, but they’ll never be you. So please, stop thinking you need to earn my affection because you don't. Not now and not ever.” 
You lift his face up to meet your gaze, looking at him as if you see right through him. “There is nothing I would change about you. You are perfect in my eyes.”
He felt like his heart was about to beat out of his chest. He was left speechless, his mind going haywire with everything you had just said. 
Seeing how his brain had completely stopped working, he let his body do all the talking instead. He wordlessly wrapped you in a tight embrace, cherishing the warmth of your body against his. 
The bitter taste of the sin he was meant to represent felt absent. Levi sensed no need to be envious of others when he had someone like you to call his.
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Satan
Not once had he let himself think that he could indulge himself in something such as love—for wrath did not deserve the peace of love. While love held everything together in its warm embrace, wrath tirelessly tore with its cold unforgiving hands. 
Despite their differences, there was no denying that both were blind. Just like a moth, you were entranced by the beautiful embers of his flame, blissfully indifferent to the heat. 
He stared at his reflection with disdain. The obsidian black horns adorning his head felt heavier the longer he looked, not to mention the tail that whipped mindlessly on its own. He gritted his teeth in disgust, delivering a blow to the mirror that sent it hurdling to the ground. Through his ragged breaths and the rapid beating of his heart, he hears a voice not of his own. 
"Satan?" you called, breaking him from his trance-like state. You softly closed his door behind you, hands outstretched and unsteady. 
With each step you took, he took two back—his mind screaming at him to stay away from you but his heart yearning to leap into your hold. 
"Hey, it's okay," you reassured, taking a step towards him. 
"No it's not!" he screams, backing away from your approaching form. 
Hearing the crunch of glass under the weight of his shoes, he takes notice of the mirror he broke just moments ago. Reflected on its cracked surface was a distorted image of him; a monster.
"Please, let me help," you pleaded, trying to close the gap between you. He hastily steps back, tripping on his own feet and leaving him a heap on the floor. 
"Don't come any closer!" he screams, the room shaking with the sheer volume of his voice. You kneel to his level, quickly engulfing him in your arms. 
‘Run. He doesn't deserve you. Just stay away.’ He repeated in his head like a silent prayer, hoping that by some miracle it would come true. 
But as he felt you hold him tighter, he knew you would do nothing of the sort. As he trembled in your arms, he wills himself to ask the question that had been plaguing his mind since the day you'd started dating. 
"Why?" he whispered softly, almost inaudible if not for the heavy silence of the night. "I could lose control. Why do you insist on staying? To even consider feeling anything for a monster such as myself is just…foolish."
You think about your answer carefully, knowing that what you say next will mend or break the man in your hold. "Loving someone takes courage. To trust someone with your heart and believe they would keep it safe. Keep you safe. Let the three realms call me foolish but there's no doubt in my mind that I love you, Satan. Not the Avatar of Wrath, you Satan,'' you answer truthfully, pouring every ounce of your heart into each word.  
Gently taking hold of his chin, you tilt his head up to meet your eyes. "Tell me now Satan, will you hurt me?" you ask, the demon shaking his head immediately. He wouldn't dream of ever wishing to cause harm to you. He would die first before anybody, let alone himself, hurt you. 
"Then it is not foolish of me to love you" you say, your words unfaltering. 
Tears welled in his eyes, accepting defeat at the hands of your love and melting deeper into your embrace. As he lays on your chest, he turns to face where your heart would be and whispers an oath. "I love you, MC. I shall protect you with my life" he vows, sealing his promise with a kiss.
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Asmodeus
As the Avatar of Lust and the Jewel of the Heavens, he was always the talk of the town. You, on the other hand, weren’t too familiar with the gossip world. Although you knew that was going to change once you officially became a couple. 
You took no mind to it, brushing them off with a small wave knowing that the wrong move could only add more oil to their flame. But Asmo wasn’t like you. He could feel all the looks they gave him, the incessant whispers and murmurs whenever he’d turn his back. 
He typically had no care for whatever lies people have heard about him. The same could not be said though when they had the audacity to include you into the mix. It was slowly chewing away at him and he couldn’t deny the pit of doubt slowly churning inside him.
“I saw MC out with one of the brothers last week. They’ve been getting closer recently. I wonder what happened between them"
"I saw them leaving school with Simeon yesterday, I’m surprised that’d cheat on Asmo with someone like him” 
”They’ve got the most powerful people of the Devildom wrapped around their finger and they’re still with Asmo? Damn”
The final blow was realizing that everything was better without him in the picture. Your smile wasn't just bright, it was brighter, you weren't just happy, you were happier. 
He slams his door shut, sliding down the wooden surface as he feels his legs give underneath him.
‘Can’t you see? They were never the problem. No matter what you do, you could never satisfy them. Once again you've proved to be useless.’
‘You think they’d just be swayed by your face? By the number of followers you have? Underneath it all you're nothing. It's just pathetic.’
He shook his head, gripping and pulling on his delicate sand blonde hair. No matter how hard he cupped his hands over his ears, their words never ceased. His eyes pricked with tears, months of silent torture finally finding his moment of weakness.  
You on the other hand were beyond worried. You were no stranger to Asmo’s flamboyant walk outs but this was different. As you neared the door to his room, you could hear silent sobs and cries on the other side. Knocking softly, you worriedly call out to him.
“Asmo?” The sobbing stops, rendering the halls eerily silent. “Darling, what’s wrong? Can I come in?” Still no response. 
Asmo freezes at the sound of your voice, the loud thumping of his heart drowning out the constant knocking on his door. An internal conflict rages within him. Not only is the person causing all this mess of emotions on the other side of the door, but the only one who can make it all go away as well. 
“Please talk to me. I need to know that you’re alright.” Just as you’re deciding if you should get some help from the others, the door opens. From it, a hand grabs your wrist, swiftly pulling you inside and closing the door. 
Looking around, the usually bright and pinkish room was cold and dark. You could barely see anything with the only light coming from his window. 
The crisp silence of the night was cut by the uneven breathing of Asmo who was still by the door. You reach out to gently place a hand on his shoulder. 
“Sweetie?” you call, fingertips only a few milliliters away, when his voice stops you in your tracks. 
“Do you love me?” he whispers. 
“Of course I do,” you answer immediately, not missing a beat. 
You gently grab him by the shoulder and turn him to face you, your heart breaking at the sight of your lover being in so much turmoil. 
“Oh, Asmo…” your hand tenderly holds his cheek, the other wiping away the tears that have yet to cease from falling. 
“Each day, I hear another rumor about you finding somebody else…” he pauses, taking a deep shuddering breath. “If you’re going to do it, please just do it already and save me the mascara.”
He knows that watching you leave will hurt more than any hangover can ever do to him. It would be like he was falling from the pristine white gates of Celestia again, powerless as he saw all he held dear fade into a memory of what he had once had.
He could try to convince himself that the rumors were true. That you were only ever with him for his fame and looks and that he never cared about you. But of all the lies that have circulated, that would have been the biggest one.
“Honey, I’m not leaving you. Not now, not ever,” you say as you tuck a lock behind his ear. “If you think I’d ever love someone after you then I have failed in showing you how much you mean to me.”
Through blurred vision, Asmo tries to find an ounce of deceit within the windows to your soul; a malicious grin, a break in eye contact, a drop of sweat. Nothing. 
He lets out a shuddering breath he didn’t know he was holding, pressing his soft hands upon your own and interlacing it with his. It was stupid of him to ever doubt your feelings for him. To hell with what they thought of the both of you. All he cared about now was now, being here in your hold, forever.
“You’re so cute sometimes, darling…" he whispers in amusement, a small smile finally making its way onto his lips. 
“Please tell me I still look fabulous even after all that tears. Ugh, my eyes are gonna be so puffed up tomorrow!” 
You chuckle at his comment, happy to see him start coming back to you. “Still ever so stunning, My Prince.”
“Let’s stay like this for just a bit more, hm? All this crying made me tired. Then after, we can run a nice warm bath for the two of us. Doesn't that sound wonderful?” He murmured, melting more into your touch.  
“Whatever you’d like, darling,” you replied, pressing your forehead to his. 
And there you stayed, forehead to forehead, hands intertwined, just you and him in the comfort of each other's touch.
AN: Thanks a bunch for reading!! Would love to hear your thoughts in the comments <33
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chiefdirector · 3 months
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Earthquake | Tim Bradford | The Rookie
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Earthquakes were nothing unfamiliar to the residents of Los Angeles, so much so that if there was a period of time without a quake, it would be seen as some form of miracle or divine intervention. After having many quakes and natural disasters, you adjust. Tim never had to adjust to the infamous LA earthquakes, he was born and raised here. Something like a quake was just another Tuesday to him.
Before he would have scoffed seeing his colleagues so disturbed by the idea of a quake, but now he felt sick to his stomach. He could feel the nausea rise up his throat as he called out over the radio again, hoping that his fears would be satiated.
“Control, this is 7-Adam-100. Status report in Detective (L/N).” He said, trying not to let his voice shake as the ground did moments ago. “Control-“
He was cut off by the gruff reply of some poor control officer who would no doubt feel the wrath of Sargent Bradford. “No reply. Detective (Y/N) is currently unreachable.”
Quickly, he raised the radio back up, this time practically barking his question out. “When was the last time you had contact?”
Tim held his breath as the radio remained silent for a moment. He did not believe in anything supernatural but by god did it feel like time stopped.
“Over an hour ago; at 15:42.”
“Goddammit,” he snapped, almost throwing his radio across the briefing room.
Seeing his rage, Chen sidestepped away from his current line of trajectory, quite liking her head without a radio sized dent in it.
The first quake had hit at approximately 15:47. Tim knew what (Y/N)’s silence implied. He tried not to think of the worst case scenario, but he couldn’t help himself. He wasn’t used to nice things, he wasn’t used to being happy and now that he had finally found joy and happiness, it was only natural that the universe would take it away again.
“Tim,” Chen said timidly. If Tim did not know any better, he could have mistaken her for a child in the way she was slightly cowered away from her. “I had control send her last location to our box, we can go now. I’m sure Grey won’t mind.”
He quickly snapped out of his thoughts, channelling almost all of his energy into the task ahead of him. The small fraction of energy he left aside was to stop him from assuming the worst; thinking of all the horrific outcomes would do him no good.
—-
Tim was never one to spend time with his feelings, if anything he repressed them. When he was a kid, his father used to tell him that emotions were weak, and that ‘real men don’t feel.’ He had taken that mindset into the military, and into the LAPD. It was only when (Y/N) had started to break down his walls did he let himself feel emotions properly for the first time in years. It was like seeing colour for the first time. However, despite all the good it did him, he couldn’t help regretting it slightly as he sat in the passenger seat of the shop, watching Chen drive closer to when (Y/N) was last seen.
“Can’t you drive quicker, Chen,” He snapped, flickering his eyes from her to the road and back to the patrol officer once again.
“Not without breaking fifty traffic laws,” She rebutted. Now that he wasn’t her training officer any more, she would have given him a bit more attitude but now isn't the right time for that, even she could recognise that. “We’re nearly there, the GPS said that her shop was last seen…”
Chen’s words trailed off as the two officers watched as a car wrapped around a tree came into view. The front was completely smashed, with glass and shrapnel landing almost everywhere. There was a small trail of smoke coming from the engine. The car was easily recognisable as one of the LAPD patrol vehicles, the exact same type that Detective (L/N) had left the station in that morning.
Without thinking, Tim sprinted out of the vehicle whilst it was still moving. Without waiting for Chen to stop, he moved with near inhuman speed towards the wreckage. Trying to see if there was any sign of life from within.
“(Y/N)” he called, looking in through the shattered window. Blood was spread across the steering wheel and the driver's seat, glass haphazardly brushed aside from the spot. Tim recognised her handbag tucked in the passenger footwell. IT was the only sign that she had been in the car at all. “Please, baby, say you're here.”
“Any luck?” Chen said, jogging over to his side. Tim needn’t respond though, the tragic look on his face said enough. “Oh god, she isn’t… is she?”
Bradford just shook his head “There’s nobody here. Completely empty. Call it in.”
Lucy nodded, taking a step away to report what had been found. Tim just sat leaned against the car. Briefly he shut his eyes, trying to ground himself back to reality. A part of him wanted to pinch himself to wake up from this nightmare, but another part of him knew that it wasn’t a dream at all.
Slowly, he began to move himself upwards when he heard a rustling in the shrubbery. On instinct, he raised his weapon, calling out for the intruder to raise their hands. He got no such reply except another round of rustling, except it didn’t sound like it was caused by the wind, it sounded too human-like to be anything natural.
Keeping his paces light, he followed the sound as made his way into the shrubbery. He made it only around twenty feet before he saw the cause of the rustling. (Y/N) lay leaned up against a tree, dried blood sat on her forehead and down her left cheek. The rest of her face seemed like it had already started to swell and bruise from the impact. The most jarring thing was not the injuries or the dirt decorating her body, but it was the light-hearted gratin she wore.
“Hey Timmy,” she said, voice light and airy, as if he had woken up early on a sunday morning and not that she had almost died.
“(Y/N),” he practically cried rushing to her side. He gently cradled her face, trying to get a better look at the gash on her forehead from where she had slammed into the steering wheel. “What happened? Are you okay?”
She flashed him another grin as she raised her hand to rest on top of his. “I’m fine, mildly concussed maybe, but I’ll live. And the car crashed, I was knocked off the road when the quake hit. There was nothing I could do to stop it.”
“Why didn't you call for help, do you know how worried I was?”
“My radio is in the car, which was on fire by the way.” She said, almost too lightheartedly for the situation, before her tone turned sombre, “I’m sorry I worried you.”
He kissed her forehead. “Just don’t do it again, I don’t think my heart could take it.”
Ignoring her protests that she could walk by herself, he moved to pick her up bridal style and carry her back to his shop, where Chen was waiting for him. Sure, he was prepared for an earthquake, but Tim wasn't prepared to lose (Y/N), not now, not ever.
Masterlist
@rookietrek @kmc1989 @augustvandyne
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ok but like maybe stiles stilinski with a spoiled rich reader maybe who has vibes like lydia?¿? maybe w number 21 ?¿? possibly…
—𓆩[warmth]𓆪—
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omg, this is literally the longest fic I've ever written for this blog, I really hope you guys enjoy it!
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𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪 𓆩[updated bingo card!]𓆪 𓆩[bingo masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[join the bingo taglist!]𓆪
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𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - Stiles Stilinski x Fem! Rich! Vampire! Reader
𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff, smut, maybe slight angst
𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 6.0K
𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - No one expected you and Stiles to start dating. Come on, a rich vampire posing as a high school student who could’ve been a real life Cullen? Fuck no. But, it happened, and Stiles fucking loves you - and your fangs - probably more than he should, and he wants to try something.
𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - foul language and smut || I was forced to watch twilight and this is what happened I love it || kinda sub stiles || mentions of mates || scent glands || marking || mentions of Wattpad & fanfic || i got WAY too into this shit man- || stiles did research || biting kink || blood kink || multiple rounds || oral || face sitting || cum eating || creampie || unprotected sex ||
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“So, tell me again how this happened?” Coach was baffled as you sat in his class, your hand in Stiles’ as the topic interrupted your lesson in your economics class. “Like, the dating part. How the heck did you end up with her, Stilinski?!”
You cleared your throat, raising your hand. “I uhm… we’ve been dating for a while, Coach.”
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“Yeah, I know! I just didn’t believe it until I saw Stilinski trying to kiss you when he thought I wasn’t looking! Come on kid, you’re that desperate?!” Bobby groaned, pressing his face into his hands. “Why is it always the nice ones who get with the… the Stiles?”
You laughed. “I don’t know who you’ve talked to, Coach, but I am not nice.”
“Yeah, she’s not!” Scott said, twirling his pencil before you glared at him. “Nice. Sh-She’s not nice.”
“Oh, shut up, McCall! You’re just mad because Stiles likes hanging out more with me than you,” you stuck your tongue out at him, letting out a soft humph as you cross your legs under the desk. “And he’s mad I took his boyfriend too.”
“Y/N, we weren’t-”
“Hush darling, Scott and I are talking,” you say, smiling widely at him as you kiss his nose. “Thank you baby.”
“This isn’t happening,” Coach groaned into his hand before the bell rings, a giggle falling from your lips. “Right? This isn’t happening?”
“Oh it’s happening!” You laughed, standing as Stiles cleared his throat.
“Y/N, baby, I have practice today.” He said, Scott coming behind him and sticking his tongue out at you. “I’m sorry.”
You pouted, pretending to think. “Why don’t you just skip? I’ll buy the school new lacrosse gear.”
“I’m right here!” Coach yelled, but quickly got up. “I would be interested in new lacrosse gear though.”
“Yeah, see? Come on, let’s skip.”
“No! We have the quarter-finals this week, he can’t miss. Y/N, he can’t miss,” Scott turned to you, hoping that he could persuade you with those stupid puppy dog eyes. “Come on.”
“Oh I forgot about that,” coach mumbles, glaring at the wall. “Okay, he’s gotta come, but the school would like new lacrosse gear.”
“Here, how about this,” you say, shaking your head as you fix your skirt. “Stiles goes to practice and I’m on the field.”
Coach scoffed. “On the field? Doing what?”
“I don’t know,” you hummed, leaning on the table as you pulled Stiles closer. He followed obediently as you licked your teeth, humming. “Play lacrosse?”
Scott scoffed. “Play lacrosse?”
You tilted your head, crossing your legs. “What, like it’s hard?”
Coach starts to laugh, nodding. “Okay! Okay, you’ll be on the field! Stiles, lend your girlfriend some clothes, we’re getting new lacrosse gear!”
Coach walked out as you giggle, Stiles staring at your smile and the sharpened canines that he fucking loved to stare at.
Scott starts to walk out, pausing to look back at the two of you. “Stiles, you coming?” 
“I-In a minute, Scott,” he smiled back at his friend before looking at you who positioned yourself on the desk with crossed legs. “I’ll be there.”
He hummed as he walked out, Stiles letting his hands settle on your hips as you parted your legs so he could slot himself between them. “Hey, my darling.”
You giggled, pushing back his hair. “Hey, honey,” you whisper back, smiling as you nuzzle your nose against his with a soft sigh. “Do you… do you think I’m too mean to Scott?”
“You’re not mean,” he says, laughing. “You and him have like… an ancestral rivalry. He’ll get over it.”
You giggle, pulling him closer for another firm kiss, groaning as your tongue pushed into his mouth, your hand pulling his head back by tugging on his hair. He groaned loudly as your tongue circled around his, humming as your head pounded. You could hear his heart beating incredibly fast, his arteries pulsating, and by hell’s name, you could smell the horniness drifting off of his body, along with the smell of dog because of Scott.
Even newly turned, you could still control yourself with Stiles as of yet. You both had had sex a few times, more than a few actually, but that was before you were actually aware of his… human-ness. You were born a vampire, now in your final years of highschool as you aged regularly and your family was kept alive by blood bags supplied by the numerous hospitals your family owned.
Your instincts never got in the way because of how well fed you were, but this was different. You could feel everything; his heart, his arteries, his veins, fuck even his cock pulsating. Your heightened senses caught everything, groaning as you attempted to pull him closer, another loud groan falling from his lips as you pulled him closer, a choke filling your ears making you pull away, your fangs grazing his bottom lip making him hiss.
A shiver runs down your back as he lets out a soft groan, laughing slightly as he licks his lip. “You alright, Y/N?”
You hummed, not really paying attention to his words as you stared at his lip dripping with that delicious coppery liquid, leaning forward to lick against his lip and a loud groan left his mouth as you sucked on his lip, desperate for that taste. It was different though, his blood tasted sweet, unlike blood bags, animals, and even humans for fucks sake.
“Y-Y/N,” he whispered, groaning. “I-It kind of hurts.”
You gasped as you pulled away, staring at his slightly swollen bottom lip as he smiled down at you, pushing back your hair. “I-I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
He shook his head, humming so that you would look at him. “Hey, Y/N, don’t worry about it,” he says, his smile growing as he leaned down and pressed a firm kiss to your lips. “I’ll be a blood bank for you any day.”
You inhale sharply, shaking your head. “Don’t say that. Y-You don’t know how dangerous that is.”
“Why?” He asked, tilting his head. “I know you can control yourself.”
You scoffed, pushing him back. “Did you not see what I just did? If you wouldn’t have said something, I would’ve kept going.”
“But I did say something,” he says, quickly stepping forward and holding your hips again. “Just because I said it hurt-ed, doesn’t mean I didn’t like it.”
You couldn’t help but giggle, shaking your head. “Hurt-ed?”
He hummed, nodding. “Hurted. It’s the past tense.”
You shook your head, laughing. “No it’s not, the past tense is still hurt.”
He rolled his eyes. “Not anymore, it’s hurted now.”
You giggle, shaking your head before sighing. “I’m gonna go write that check, okay? I… I think I’m gonna go home, too.”
His brows ruffled, quickly blocking you from jumping down. “Why?”
“Because it’s not safe for me to be around so many people,” you responded, humming as you quickly went around him. “Come to my house after school? We need to talk.”
He quickly caught your hand, one you could’ve easily avoided, but he shook his head. “Y-You’re not breaking up with me, right?”
You giggled, smiling sadly with a shake of your head. “Just meet me at my house, alright?”
He cleared his throat but nodded, inhaling deeply before slowly pulling you in for a soft kiss. “I love you, Y/N, I love you so much.”
You hummed softly, nodding. “I love you too, my darling.”
He swallowed as you walked out, pulling out your checkbook and writing a number with a lot of zeros on the main line before crossing out the rest, signing and doing the rest of the things before passing by Coach and pressing it to his chest. “Let me know if you need more, alright? I’ll see you tomorrow!”
“What? Where are you going?” He yelled out as you waved back at him.
“Have something to do at home! I’ll see you!” You yelled, looking back with a smile. “Good luck, Coach!”
He mumbled something as you walked out, quickly making your way back home and parking outside your secluded mansion that truly could’ve been out of the movie. It didn’t take you long to get up to your room, quickly getting caught by Kirshe, one of the vampire elders that your parents were friends with. “Y/N, are you alright?”
Of course she knew what you were feeling. “O-Oh, I’m fine,” you responded, humming with a slight smile. “Just some… relationship problems.”
She paused, her golden eyes trailing down your body before flashing a bright red. “He doesn’t know he’s your mate, does he?”
You laughed, shaking your head. “Not only that, Kirshe.”
She hummed, taking a deep inhale. “And he’s human too, isn’t he?”
You inhaled deeply, nodding. “Taken in by a pack of dogs.”
Kirshe laughed. “Oh, it’s always the best of us, my love. He’s… why are there problems now?”
“I tasted his blood,” you giggled, shaking your head with a scoff. “It’s just like the stories describe it. Addicting, sweet… perfect.”
“Do you want to turn him?” She asked, making you shrug. “Does he want to be turned?”
“I don’t… I don’t know.”
Back at the school, Stiles was going crazy. “Do you think she’s going to break up with me?”
“She would never,” Scott responded, scoffing. “She’s too in love with you.”
“You’re just mad because you thought she was hot,” Stiles grinned, putting on a shirt that hadn’t been near Scott. He knew how much you hated the smell of wolves. “Right?”
“Oh shut up,” Scott scoffed, shaking his head. “Where did she go anyways?”
“Home.” Stiles said, humming. “Why do you ask?”
“Because I can smell how horny you are.”
Stiles laughed, shaking his head. “Yeah, I uhm… we were making out earlier. She was… sucking on my lip after it started bleeding.”
Scott froze, quickly looking at him. “What?”
“You’re overreacting so much,” Stiles said, shrugging. “We’ve had sex before.”
“But she’s never sucked your blood, right?”
Stiles could feel his cheeks heat up, about to say something before Scott groaned loudly. “Dude, the smell got stronger! Holy shit, does that turn you on?!”
“Fuck yeah it does!” Stiles said, thankful the two of them were the only ones in the locker room. “Dude, when we like, get heated, she runs her fangs along my neck, holy shit, it’s so hot.”
“And you want her to suck your blood?” Scott paused, staring at him. “You want her to turn you?”
Stiles paused, staring down at his bag before inhaling deeply. Is this what Bella Swan was feeling when she was with Edward Cullen?
“I want to be with her for the rest of my life,” Stiles said, grabbing his bag before smiling at Scott. “If it’s this one or one hundred, I don’t care. I want her, forever.”
Scott inhaled deeply before sighing, shaking his head with a slight smile. “You’re really in love with her, aren’t you?”
Stiles smiled, all sarcasm gone. “Yeah, I am.”
“What about your dad?” Scott asked the inevitable question, inhaling deeply. “I-I’m not trying to like… ruin anything, but if you get turned… what are you going to do to him?”
Stiles smiled, shrugging. “He’ll be my dad. Always. What he wants to do is up to him.”
After that, he waved goodbye and quickly drove to your house, way over the speed limit to get there faster. As soon as he pulled up, he smiled when he saw you on your balcony, staring at him like you knew he was coming - which you probably did.
He quickly got out, waving up at you as you giggled. Normally your family was there to greet him, but they were obviously gone as he walked inside and up to your room.
He doesn’t knock, mainly because there was no point, slowly walking behind you as you stood on your balcony. His arms go to wrap around your waist, leaning onto your body as he pressed soft kisses to your neck, your hand going to hold his jaw as you exhaled deeply. “How was practice?”
“Good,” he mumbled, shrugging. “Missed you. I changed into something that I hope doesn’t smell like Scott.”
You giggle, nodding. “And it doesn’t, thank you.”
“So uhm…” he whispered, humming against your neck as you moved your hands to settle over his. “What did you want to talk about?”
“Well, you read up on vampires when you met me, right?” You hummed, smiling as he nodded into your neck. “Did you get to the part about mates?”
He paused, his hands tightening around your waist. Did you find your mate? He had read up about them, but never really retained the information because no one ever spoke of them, but obviously for pure blooded vampires like your family, of course they existed.
“I-I… I did,” he whispers, pulling you closer. “There wasn’t much about how it works for bloodborne vampires.”
“Would you like for me to tell you how it works?” You asked, smiling up at him.
“Wh-Why would you tell me if I’m not your mate?” Stiles whispered, slight annoyance in his voice before you started laughing. “What?”
“Stiles, you’re so lucky you’re hot,” you turned in his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck. “You’re my mate.”
He paused, staring down at you blankly. He was your mate? Why?
When you started laughing, he realized he must’ve said it out loud, your hands cupping his face. “Why not? I think it’s fitting, don’t you?”
“Th-That’s not what I meant,” he didn’t mean to stutter, it always happened around you though. He groaned loudly as your fingers dragged down his neck, sparks following your touch as you smiled up at him. “I meant like… how are we mates?”
You paused, pursing your lips. “Kirshe said mates are decided by the gods where in past lives their love ‘changed the fate of the world’,” you mumbled, inhaling deeply as you stroked his hair. “Do you think we could’ve changed the fate of the world, Stiles? In our past lives?”
He inhaled deeply, nodding as he leaned his forehead down against yours. “I know we could’ve,” he whispered back, pressing his lips softly against yours. “Because I love you more than anything else in the world.”
You smiled widely, letting out a loud laugh as he picked you up and turned the both of you around to go back into your bedroom. He slowly laid you in the bed, crawling over your body and laying down next to you to pull you into his chest. You sighed heavily against his chest, stroking his shirt before pulling it down slightly to see his exposed skin. You could hear his heart beating, his valves and ventricles pumping, his lungs inhaling and exhaling, his diaphragm expanding and deflating - fuck, at this point, you hated that he was human at this point.
“Y/N?”
You hummed, looking up at him as your fingers trail over his exposed collarbone. “Yes, my love?”
“I-I was wondering… if you could uhm… turn me. Like, actually turn me… into a vampire like you,” Stiles said as you started to sit up, staring at your face pinched up as you inhaled and exhaled deeply. “Y/N? What’s wrong?”
“Stiles, why do you want to be a vampire?” You asked, staring at him like he was crazy. “You would watch the people you love die over and over again. You have the choice to grow old and-”
“And what about you?” He whispered, taking your hand in his. Besides his dad and Scott, you were the only person alive right now that he cared for, especially after he was impacted by Void. You stuck with him even after that, how could he let you go now? “You would watch me grow old and wait for me to be born again? Huh?”
“That’s not what I meant, Stiles-”
“I want to be with you,” the brunette filled in, staring at you with those whiskey colored eyes. “For the rest of my life, and I want it to be where you don’t have to watch me die in the end. I want to spend… the rest of my life young with you.”
“But in turning you, I’d watch you die too,” you whispered, inhaling deeply as your eyes watered. You had thought about this before, turning him, but then you thought about what he would go through. You were the first bloodborne vampire ever recorded, because of course the Court took note of every vampire turned, but you were the first one born of two Elders who didn’t think they could get pregnant. You knew what vampires went through when they’re turned, but what would Stiles go through? Turned by a bloodborne who was their mate? “You have to die to become a vampire, Stiles. I would have to kill you.”
“Then kill me.” He sat up, holding your face in his hands as he smiled at you. “I’ve died before, what's another time?”
“Not like this, Stiles,” you whisper, gasping as he wiped the tears from falling down your cheeks, leaning forward to kiss against your skin. “The turning of a mate isn’t something that just happens. It takes days, months, rituals, I have to mark you, we have to be married for fucks sake-!”
You couldn’t finish, gasping as he pressed his lips to yours, pulling you into his lap with a loud groan. “Well then mark me. That’s the start, right?”
You gaped at him, his stupid smile as he stared at you. “You know that means I have to bite you, right?”
“Yeah, it’s like those werewolf stories on Wattpad.”
“You were on Wattpad?”
“It was a dare, moving along. Does it like stay a bite mark or does it like turn into a tattoo?”
“I don’t know, a bloodborne has never marked anyone before,” you say, but your eyes narrow at him. “The hell are you reading where it turns into a tattoo?”
“I don’t know, it turns into their initials,” he shrugged, but paused. “Do I get to mark you too?”
“You want to mark me?” You say, smiling with a slight bounce making him hold back a grunt. “You can mark me right now.”
He smirked, staring at you as you slipped off your shirt to expose your shoulder. “Didn’t you say there’s a process?”
“Not for marking,” you respond, but pause. “But if you mark me, we have to get married soon, because I have to turn you in the span of a few months. Or maybe not because I'm bloodborne, so it could be different.”
“What if I don’t get turned?”
“You turn into a lust crazed monster until I do turn you, but it’s more lethal because since you’re so obsessed with sex, your mind doesn’t process the turn until your body is on fire. Well, it feels like it’s on fire.”
He pursed his lips. “So for the rest of eternity we’re just going to be a rich family hidden in the woods? Like the Cullens?”
You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re just gonna ignore the fact that you’ll turn into a lust crazed monster?”
He grinned. “Well, who am I lusting for? You, right?”
“Well yeah, you have my blood in your veins, so of course you lust after me.”
“I see no problem in that.” He responds, ignoring the fact that his body might not register the turn.
You laughed, shaking your head as you pulled his hands to your back to unclasp your bra. “Well, you want to get this mating thing started, don’t you?” Your fingers move to trail down his chest after he unclasped your bra, your skin cold to the touch until his warm hands flattened against your back. “When you first bite, it’ll taste odd until that zing runs up your back. Then, I’ll tell you when to stop, alright? As soon as you stop, your mind might get kind of hazy and you’ll probably be really horny, alright?”
He laughed. “More horny than I am now? Impossible.”
You couldn’t help but giggle, tugging on the hem of his shirt to pull it off. Immediately, he pulls away and raises his arms for you to take off his shirt, your eyes staring at his mole covered chest. You inhale shakily as you finally meet his eyes, your hands pressed against his warm chest as he pushed his face into your neck, pressing firm kisses to your neck as you pulled him closer before kissing his ear. 
“Are you sure you want this, Stiles?” You whisper, holding his face as you pull away. “It doesn’t have to happen now.”
He smiled up at you, shaking his head as he continued to press kisses to your neck, his teeth grazing your skin. “For the rest of eternity, remember?”
You smile, inhaling deeply as his tongue flattened against your neck making you lean your head to the side.
“Where do I bite?”
“Anywhere,” you mumbled, your mind hazy as you inhaled the smell that was so uniquely him, whiskey and mountain air combined with pine that made you walk straight toward him when you moved to town. “Anywhere you want.”
He pauses, pulling away to tilt his head up at you. “So it doesn’t have to be on your neck like in the stories?”
You laughed, shaking your head. “Of course not. Anywhere you bite, like you said, it turns into initials surrounded by a slight imprint of your bite.” 
He pauses, letting his eyes trail over your bare torso as he slowly moves so that you were actually seated in his lap. “Can I do it…” he lets his eyes trail over your skin, humming as he pressed a soft kiss to the space of skin a little lower to where the end of your clavicle was. “Here?”
“Why there?”
“Because,” he whispered, his eyes almost darkening as he let his tongue flatten against your skin, getting it wet with his spit as you groaned, tilting your head back. Your hips automatically roll into his, a loud groan falling from his mouth as he pulls away for a minute. “You gotta show it off, don’t you? Gets you to wear those low cut shirts I fuckin’ love.”
You gasped as his teeth finally sunk into your skin, your body basically on fire as he groaned against your skin. Like you said, it tasted weird at first, coppery and tangy until it flooded his mouth, the smell of the perfume you wore that he learned wasn’t actually perfume shifting into taste instead of the layers of smell you always smelled like. It was sweet and fruity, like strawberries and cherries with sweet cream and that white angel cake, tangy from the berries and sweet from the pastries.
Fuck, it tasted so good. His teeth were deep in your skin, the only cooling part of your body where his teeth sank and drew blood, his hot body making yours feel even hotter.
You could feel your mind get hazy, your eyes rolling back as he tried to suck harder, a loud groan falling from his lips as his hands pawed at your ass, your hips rutting into his almost automatically before you tugged on his hair. “St-Sti, not too much, you could get sick.”
He basically whined, only pulling away by the tug of his hair before licking over the bite mark left on your skin. He panted, watching it as though it would change into the black tattoo-ink like color he was truly expecting it to turn in an instant.
You giggled, quickly catching his jaw before pulling him up to look at you. “It’s not going to happen until I mark you first, my love.”
He stared up at you, eyes a dark chocolate color, lips slightly stained and his tongue tinted a darker red. “Oh.”
You giggle, leaning down to press firm kisses to his skin, never stopping your firm thrusts of your clothed hips against his own, tongue trailing around his skin scattered with moles. “Where do you want it, baby?”
“Where everyone can see,” his hands were shaking from excitement, the taste of your blood sending electricity through his body, tongue flattening against your shoulder and holding back the urge to sink his teeth in again. “Wherever you want it to be, as long as it’s on show.”
“So…” you whisper, letting your tongue trail down the side of his jaw, pushing against the moles under his ear. “Like, here? Or… lower?”
“A-A little lower, please,” he whispered, words breathy as he focused on your hips rolling into his, hard and your hot cunt sliding against his hard cock. He could feel your wetness through your shorts and his jeans, hissing as you leaned forward and kept your hips there, releasing your weight just a bit to keep his cock slotted between your folds. “Fuck, please.”
You hummed, your tongue flattening on the pulse filling your ears until going to the side of his neck. “Here?”
“Mhm,” he merely hummed, nodding into your neck as his hands shakily grabbed your hips. “D-Don’t stop your moving hips, please.”
You giggle, your eyesight basically blurring as you stare at his neck, that one mole catching your eye before you inhaled deeply and felt your canines extend, a comical shing filling the room as you sunk your teeth into his skin. You could barely focus on his cock rubbing against your clothed cunt, one of his hands slipping in between you both to tug your shorts and underwear to the side, pushing his fingers into your leaking cunt and his fingers thrusting into your cunt. You were so tight, so so tight and wet, two of his fingers easily pushing into you and rolling his fingers inside of you.
You were so distracted with the taste of his blood, pushing in and out, in and out, but it was nothing compared to how good he tasted. He tasted like caramel, underlying with nutty butterscotch and whiskey, maybe a slight bit of salt that balanced everything out. You groaned loudly, eyes flying open as he pulled his finger out, the sound of him unbuttoning his pants and unzipping them to pull his cock out of his boxers and push his tip into you making you moan loudly against his skin.
Oh it was almost as though you couldn’t stop, your head pounding as you felt his veins pumping and heart beating, a soft gasp making you pull away, cursing. Was it too much? Did you take too much from him?
“Why did you stop?” He whispered, staring up at you with hazy eyes. “I liked it. I-I loved it. It felt like lightning-”
“Stiles.”
“L-Like lightning was traveling down my spine and filling my veins-”
“Stiles.”
He paused, staring up at you as you looked down at your skin, smiling when you saw the initials MS surrounded by the faded gray bite mark. “Mieczysław. Fuck, I love that name, I love your name.”
“I love you,” he whispers back, smiling as you giggled down at him, his face pressing against your skin before kissing his initials. “I love you so much.”
You smile as he slowly pushes you onto your back, his eyes a dark chocolate brown as he pulls out just for a minute, pulling off his pants after kicking off his shoes and tugging down your shorts and pretty panties. Your eyes rolled back as he flattened his tongue against your wet slit, flicking his tongue against your puffed up clit before sitting back on his feet and pumping his cock. You could see his cock covered in cum, inhaling deeply as you looked over at his discarded boxers, a splatter of cum making you giggle.
“I made you cum in your pants, Mieczysław?”
He groaned as he pushed back into you, staring at the creamy ring he started to leave around your entrance that kept sucking him farther and farther into you. He groaned, his mind fully attentive to your cunt basically swallowing his length, whimpers and squirming finally starting when he left the last few inches. His eyes flickered up to your face, a groan falling from his lips as he saw his initials on your skin, your face pinched in pleasure and eyes rolling back as he thrusted into you sharply to watch that creamy ring settle on his base and your hands flying to his forearms.
“Fuck, fuck Stiles!”
He shook his head, holding your hips with a grunt. “No baby, call me by my real name,” he said, cursing softly as he started to thrust his hips, watching your body bounce with each thrust, your tits moving and his eyes trained on the mark he made. You were right, he was so fucking addicted to the feeling of you around his cock, more lightning traveling up his spine as your nails dug into his forearm, blood making your eyes flash red. “You always say it so fucking nice.”
He watched you groan loudly, moving so his chest pressed against yours and moving his arms to support him. He watched your mouth move to his forearms, your tongue flattening against his skin and licking up all of the blood, his mouth moving to your head to press kisses against your hair, groans falling from his mouth with each thrust before you moved to stare up at him, pulling him down to kiss him, that same coppery tang disappearing and fading into the same whiskey flavor you had been addicted to.
“Mieczysław,” you whispered, gasping as his thrusts got faster, whining as his hand pushed down to circle against your clit torturously before his other hand gripped your thigh, digging his nails so deep into your skin he drew blood. “F-Fuck!”
He groaned as he pushed his fingertips against your skin, covering them with that crimson liquid before pushing them into his mouth and slamming into you one last time to cum inside of you, the gushing of his cum making you cum from the almost inflation like feeling. It didn’t take you long to push him over, though, staring at his already healed forearm. You smiled as you began to roll your hips, desperate as his tip kissed your cervix, pushing deeper and deeper at this new angle as you moaned loudly, holding his chest and staring down at the mark with your own initials on his skin.
It fueled your movements, staring down at the cum smearing along his pelvis, whimpering as you bounced on his length. “Please, please, fuck!”
“You need my help, don’t you?” He teased, lifting his hips to roll into you at the same time you pushed down, your eyes rolling back as he pushed even deeper inside of you - something you truly didn’t think could happen. “Right?”
“Yes! Yes, yes!” You pleaded, gasping as he forced his hips up into you, thrusting over and over again at the same speed you were bouncing on his cock with even more force than you could ever imagine. You were so lost in pleasure, his warm hands holding your hips as you tried to stay sitting up, your body finally registering the fresh human blood in your veins. It had been a while since you had anything other than bagged blood or animal blood, and as a result, your high was gone and inevitably coming down until he slammed his hips up into you, your eyes rolling back as the knot in your stomach snapped and a loud moan of his name - his real name - left your mouth.
He groaned underneath you, his cum gushing out of your cunt as you slowly got off, staring at his still hard cock. You giggle, smiling as you pumped his cock and licked the cum sliding down his shaft, groaning as he bucked his hips up into your mouth. You kept it in your mouth, moaning loudly as you bobbed your head, pumping what you couldn’t fit in your mouth and staring at his face.
You didn’t register his human features, not anymore, his blood pumping and his lungs filling with air or exhaling air, only the fact that the cum on his cock tasted so fucking delicious and your fingers cupping and squeezing his balls which made his hips buck and you pull back to feel his cum flood your mouth. You groaned, sucking on his pretty tip and your hand fisting his cock, swallowing the salty liquid before pulling away.
Your mind was full of lust as you slowly crawled up his body, his hands immediately catching your hips as you hovered over his face. His eyes were hazy with lust as you grinned down at him. "You're such a good boy, honey. I think you deserve a treat."
He groaned loudly as you slowly released your weight, holding the sides of his head as his hands hold your thighs, your hips rolling into his mouth as his tongue pushed into your cunt, basically pulling all of the cum from your pussy, your eyes rolling back as one of his hands pushed between your thighs and straight into your cunt.
His flexing fingers guided the rolls of your hips, moans falling from your lips as you attempted to cover your mouth before a finger pressed to your clit and his teeth grazed your pussy. You whined loudly, your stomach twisting as you attempted to chase that high, his fingers pushing into you to press against that place that made your stomach go tight and your eyes roll back, curses falling from your lips. “Fuck, fuck, fuck Mieczysław!”
He hummed against your cunt, the vibrations making you shiver as he slowly lifted you from his face and push you down so you sat on his cock. He slowly pushed into you, a shiver going down your back as he held your face, pulling you up for a firm kiss. “I love you.”
“I love you, Mieczysław,” you whisper back, smiling as his lips quirked up into a smile of his own, sighing heavily. “Do you feel okay?”
“Yeah, I feel great,” he smiled, shrugging. “Really horny.”
You laughed, nodding. “We can keep going,” you whisper, smiling as you lay against his warm chest. “Just… let me lay here in your warmth for a minute.”
“Will you miss it?” He whispers, stroking your cheek as he stares down at you. “M-My warmth.”
You inhale deeply, nodding as your hand rubbed against his chest where his heart was, the beating already slowing down. “Yeah, I will,” you shrug though, giggling. “But we’re the first of our kind, my love. I’m hoping you’ll keep it.”
“Then I do too.”
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