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bat-revival · 2 years ago

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Down in Flames (modern!HOTD)

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

pairings: modern!Aegon x Reader & modern!Aemond x Reader

summary: You're invited! To a totally not awkward dinner party at the home of Viserys and Alicent, as they attempt to smooth over the animosity between the members of their family.

warnings: 18+ spicy stuff below the cut (explicit sexual situations, oral fem receiving, edging) language, mentions of Aemond's eye injury, fighting, blood, alcohol/drinking

word count: 6.7k

note: another long one because this fic is literally my baby 💚

masterlist

As Aemond pulls up the car to his mother’s house, your whole body tenses. The home of Viserys and Alicent Targaryen looms in the distance up a winding stone driveway. Lights mark a path of stars toward the front door, the glow warm and inviting. It appears as though every room in the mansion is lit, as though burning from within.

The last time you were at the Targaryen home was nearly a year ago. Christmas time. A different brother in the driver’s seat.

“Why are we doing this again?” you ask Aemond.

“Viserys wants us to,” Aemond said, fingers curling on the wheel, his knuckles blanching.

Aemond’s jaw and shoulders are tense as he slouches over the wheel. He looks the same as when he received the call from his mother; irritated but dutiful nonetheless. Aemond was not one to disappoint Alicent Hightower.

“This is such a shitty idea,” you tell him.

“Well he’s a shitty father so it only makes sense,” Aemond says, smiling tightly.

“At least he’s consistent,” you agree.

“You’re funny,” Aemond says, getting out of the car.

You unbuckle your seatbelt and go to open the door, but somehow Aemond has beaten you to it, opening the car door for you. He extends a hand, helping you out of the car.

“What a gentleman,” you tell him, earning a hum, “you gonna carry me across the threshold too?”

“You want me to?” he asks, lips tugging into a smirk.

That would cause a riot, you’re sure of it. Though you admit, the thought is tempting. You roll your eyes, shoving him with your shoulder. When Alicent called Aemond telling him to come for dinner, she proposed it as a rather extravagant dinner party. Anything the Targareyns did was extravagant if you were being honest.

Apparently it was Viserys’ idea, to ease the tension between the band, and between Rhaenrya. You hadn’t seen Rhaenyra in a long time, and shit was definitely about to go down.

Which led to you having to run home to your apartment to grab your favorite dress. A silky green number that hugged your every inch perfectly, wrapped around you like a second skin. Aemond chose a dark suit, the entire number pitch black. It’s as though Aemond has an aversion to color, despite the blue gemstone that replaced his eye.

“Ha ha,” you joke, walking next to him up the driveway and to the cobblestone walkway that leads to the front door.

Your heels click against the stone, the only sound in the cool night. The air is brisk, and your breath puffs in front of you like a cloud of smoke. It had been days since the blowup. Since Aegon and Cass. Since Rhaena. Your stomach turns at the thought of seeing them both. Everyone is coming no doubt, if this is supposed to be some sort of reconciliation dinner.

You stop just outside the door, bathed in the light that hangs above the door. A beautiful seven pointed star spilling diamonds of light on the stoop.

“You ready?” Aemond asks, sliding his hand into yours sending your heart fluttering.

“As I’ll ever be,” you tell him and he knocks on the door.

The knocker is huge, a dragon holding a ring between its jaws. The door opens rather quickly to Alicent, Aemond’s mother. Her auburn hair is held away from her face, and she wears a sparkling green sweater and dress pants. Her face breaks out into a relieved smile at the sight of her second son.

Alicent always takes your breath away; she had Aegon terribly young, her face still youthfully beautiful as she has just started to gracefully age.

“Aemond,” she breathes, pulling him into a hug.

“Hey mom,” he says, placing a kiss on her head.

The sweet action makes your heart swell. Alicent turns to you.

“And Y/N!” she says, embracing you, “it's been too long dearest.”

Alicent’s hug nearly makes you burst into tears. You let yourself get lost in her arms for a moment, breathing in her Chanel N°5 perfume. As she pulls away she places a hand under your chin.

“Beautiful as ever, I see,” she compliments, causing you to blush.

“Come in! Let's get out of the cold,” she says, ushering you inside, “Helaena is here already.”

Thank every deity that exists, Helaena is your saving grace. As you walk in the foyer you hear a loud bark, before a bundle of golden fur barrels towards you. Instinctively you drop to your knees, fingers tangling in soft tufts of fur as a warm wet tongue laps at your cheeks.

“Sunfyre!” Alicent scolds, grabbing for the golden retriever’s collar.

“It’s okay, really,” you tell her through laughs as the excited dog continues to push himself into your lap.

Sunfyre always did think he was a lapdog rather than the gigantic ball of fluff he was. You let him lick your face a moment more, scratching at his neck generously, earning several wags of his tail.

“He’s such a spoiled boy,” Alicent scolds, finally tugging him away from you, “I’ll have to put him upstairs or he’ll overturn the table.”

You rise from the floor wiping slobber from your cheeks. Helaena appears from down the hall eagerly, smiling at you. She swishes over to you, gold skirts following her like a trail of liquid sunlight.

“Hey guys,” Helaena says, “you ready for this?”

“Who told him this was a good idea?” Aemond asks, taking your coat.

“I don’t know, not me obviously,” Helaena says, shrugging, “but I think it's a bunch of things, you know?”

You nod, as footsteps come eagerly crashing down the stairs, drawing your attention. A lanky boy with shaggy silver hair appears, violet eyes sparkling.

“Ohmygod Daeron!” you exclaim, as the youngest Targaryen sibling comes to the end of the stairs.

His grin is lopsided as he throws his arms around you, nearly lifting you off of the floor. He’s grown since studying abroad, no longer a scrappy teen.

“Hey Y/N!” he says, squeezing you before releasing you.

He clasps Aemond’s hand in a friendly shake before looking around.

“Where’s Aeg? Not with you?” Daeron asks, brow furrowing.

“Uh,” you tell him, “that’s really a long story.”

“Dude I told you,” Helaena says, rolling her eyes, “there’s been some shifting around here.”

“Right, right,” Daeron said apologetically, “sorry, so you two are…?”

You and Aemond glance at each other.

“Yeah,” Aemond answers, “yeah we are.”

You can’t help but smile. Daeron nods, approvingly.

“Cool, I can get behind that,” he tells you, as the door opens again.

Baela is just slipping out of her coat, Alicent closing the door behind her and Jace. She meets your eyes. You haven’t spoken in days, it's the longest you’ve gone without talking. You decide to give her space, walking into the formal living space where a barcart has been prepared with several bottle of wine.

Baela kisses Alicent politely and you turn around pouring her a glass of wine, along with one for yourself. A peace offering. As you turn back, Baela has already made her way to you.

“Hey,” she greets, awkwardly.

“Hey,” you say, matching her energy, “Chardonnay?”

A smile twists on her lips before she takes the glass from you.

“You know me well,” she says, clinking her glass against yours.

“Mhmm,” you answer, taking a sip from your own glass, unsure of what to say.

“You done being stupid?” she tells you, the question filled with all the love only a best friend can deliver.

“I missed you,” you tell her and she sighs dramatically.

“I’ve missed you too, can this all stop now?” she tells you, “if I have to spend one more night chilling with Jace and Luke watching football I’m going to go crazy. Do you understand how annoying they are?”

You snicker.

“One of those people is your boyfriend,” you remind her.

“Doesn’t mean he can’t be annoying,” she answers, “he doesn’t take the place of a best friend.”

You smile so wide you think your face will split in half. You’ve missed her so much. You wonder if making amends with Rhaena will be as easy, but something in your gut twists telling you it will not.

“Where’ve you been staying?” Baela asks, sipping her wine.

“Helaena’s sometimes,” you tell her, “and at the apartment.”

Baela raises her eyebrows.

“Girl, you’re ballsy,” she says, laughing a little.

“What? Is that bad?” you ask, frowning.

Baela purses her lips, giving you an ‘are you for real?’ look.

“Getting dicked down one room over from the one you used to share with your ex?” she asks.

“It’s not like Aegon is there,” you hiss, cheeks burning.

“Mhmm,” Baela says, a mischievous glint in her eye, “you’re going to have to tell me all about it. Every single dirty detail. Was I right?”

“About what?”

Baela rolls her eyes, as though you should know exactly what she’s talking about.

“About Aemond eating pussy like a champ,” she tells you.

Your whole body grows warm remembering his mouth on you. Baela’s mouth drops open as you fail to answer, as she watches your cheeks darken as you take a small sip from your glass.

“I fucking knew it!” Baela hollers, smiling while she answers, “you’re getting dicked down, slurped out-”

Jace makes his way over and you’re shushing her relentlessly as she laughs.

“What’re we talking about?” he asks, smiling at you.

“Y/N’s turned into a bad girl,” Baela says, causing Jace to flush and avoid your eyes.

“Um okay?” Jace says, scratching the back of his neck.

“She totally is,” Luke says joining, jumping into the conversation, “she Yoko’d us.”

“Excuse me?” you ask, nearly choking on your wine.

Luke raises his eyebrows at you, sipping on the beer he holds, before shoving one hand into his pocket. You don’t know when he even arrived, you hadn’t heard the door open.

“You know, broke up the band?” Luke says, raising his eyebrows at you.

“I didn’t break up the band,” you tell him, “I didn’t!”

“Mhmm,” Luke says, sipping his drink.

“That makes no sense,” Baela says, frowning at Luke.

“It makes sense to me,” he answers.

“Okay Luke,” you tell him laughing.

This feels good. Normal even. You feel your nerves begin to ease when Rhaena enters the room. You meet her eyes as her forehead creases when she notices you. Luke clears his throat before walking over to greet her.

“She’s Luke’s date,” Jace tells you.

“Bae,” Rhaena calls, waving over her sister.

Baela gives you an apologetic smile.

“Talk later?” she says, squeezing your hand.

“Yeah,” you tell her, “she can’t be mad at me forever, can she?”

Baela’s expression does nothing but fuel the anxiety that burns under your skin.

“Just give her time,” Baela answers, “she’ll be okay. She just needs a little more time.”

Baela squeezes your hand before walking across the room to join her. Aemond materializes beside you, his cologne making your mouth water. Rhaena’s stare burns through you.

“Let me talk to her,” Aemond murmurs, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“Not now,” you tell him.

“Later,” he agrees, a hand lazily wrapping a hand around your waist.

Something you’ve learned about Aemond since making it official; he cannot keep his hands to himself. His hand remains when the door opens, Aegon and Cass stumbling in. Cass supports Aegon against her, his arm draped over her shoulders. She’s terribly pretty, dressed in a silk dress that matches her eyes. Aegon is barely dressed, shirt untucked, tie hanging limply around his neck. Your brow creases and you can’t stop the worry you feel noting his red rimmed eyes.

He’s getting worse. You didn’t even think that was possible.

Daemon and Rhaenyra enter behind them, Rhaenyra rolling her eyes as she crosses the threshold. There is something unnervingly beautiful about Rhaenyra Targaryen, like she stepped out of a storybook.

Daemon sends you a nod, after eyeing Aemond’s arm around your waist and you look away from him. Something about Daemon’s look makes your skin crawl, as though he’s saying you and I aren’t so different.

“Let’s sit, everyone,” Alicent calls, clanging a fork against her glass, “dinner is ready.”

“Great,” Aegon says, pushing by you, “I’m starving.”

The table is silent beside the clanging of silverware against the fanciest plates you’ve seen. Viserys joined, wheeled in by Alicent’s private bodyguard Criston Cole, and he’s barely conscious, wheezing over his plate. If he notices the tension between the members of his family he does not comment on it.

Alicent’s eyes flicker throughout the room, her nose twitches like a nervous rabbit. You glance at Aemond, but he remains looking forward. Gods this is so awkward. You meet Rhaena’s eyes and she quickly looks away, mouth remaining in a frown. You feel yourself flush, as a hand creeps to your knee. Aemond’s fingers rub soothing circles on your skin, before giving your knee a comforting squeeze.

You’re in so deep.

You’re at the most awkward family dinner of your life, and all you can think about is how you wish Aemond would let his hand creep higher under your dress.

Bad girl. Stop that. You shake the thought from your head.

Daemon laughs into his plate, earning a stern glance from Rhaenyra. Cass sits bright eyed next to Aegon, seemingly just happy to be here. Viserys leans up from his plate, glancing around the room.

“I’m so…happy you’re all here,” he says, speaking for the first time.

Mumbles happen, lots of ‘of course Dad’ and ‘yeahs.’

“Business can tear families apart, but even with two creative visions, we are still a strong foundation,” he continues, “still one family.”

You raise your eyebrows. It’s like Viserys doesn’t have a clue what’s been going on. He simply smiles around the room revealing several missing teeth.

“And my song,” Viserys says looking at the ceiling, “my child you sing it so beautifully.”

You’re not sure which child Viserys is referring to.

You meet Baela’s eyes, her confused expression mirrors yours. The other faces around the room also appear perplexed at Viserys’ statement. Daeron looks the most confused, as though he’s not quite sure what this dinner was supposed to be about in the first place.

“I’m tired Aemma,” Viserys says suddenly, “I’m going to bed. The rest of you enjoy.”

His eyes are watery, gaze confused as he begins to rise from his seat.

Your heart pounds and you glance at Alicent, though she barely seems fazed by Viserys calling her the name of his first wife. She simply watches him stand, and leave the room while remaining seated.

“Okay fuck that,” Aegon says suddenly.

Rhaenyra glares at him, but he continues to smile.

“Dad wrote that song for us,” Aegon tells her.

“He gave it to me, asshole,” Rhaenyra snaps.

“It’s a song about all of us,” Aegon argues, “you don’t get it just cause you decided to fuck off.”

Rhaenyra almost lets it go, Daemon watching her closely. But Aegon can’t help himself as he finishes his drink. You can see down his throat, that’s how wide he opens up making sure every last drop of whiskey makes in his gullet. Cass looks at him, eyebrows knitting together.

“Entitled bitch,” he grunts, and Jace stands.

“Why don’t you just sing it together?” Cass asks, taking Aegon’s hand in hers. You watch her squeeze it. Aegon hates holding hands. You meet his lavender gaze.

“Never going to happen,” Aegon tells her, not pulling away from Cass’s grip.

“It’s my song Aegon, it was mine long before you were here,” Rhaenyra continues, “I’ve made the edits, I sang the demo-”

“Are you still talking?” Aegon snaps, causing Cass to flinch beside him at his harsh tone.

“Okay, Aegon enough,” Jace tells him, resting his hands on the table. He hasn’t sat down.

“You’re on her side now?” Aegon asks, “that’s it huh?”

“It’s her song,” Jace argues, “this doesn’t have to be a huge fight.”

Luke laughs, a small snort escapes him but it's enough to set Aemond off. He stands from his chair beside you, eye narrowing at Luke. Aegon’s eyes are glassy, they seem to glow with mischief at the tension in the room. He loves provoking people.

“No it only has to be a fight when it's something you care about,” Aegon argues.

Your blood runs cold, watching Aegon’s gaze flicker toward Aemond. Jace turns red, but he keeps his gaze averted from Aemond. From Luke.

“We’re not talking about that,” Jace argues.

The accident.

You look up at Aemond who is standing unnaturally still. You can’t help but wonder if Aegon is bringing it up just to provoke him, rather than from a place of genuine concern.

“We are now,” Aegon tells him, leaning back in his chair, “my brother gets maimed and its all, no let's keep playing, but one little song-”

“Shut up Aegon,” Luke snaps, fingers gripping his cutlery so tightly his knuckles turn white.

“No, I’m not done,” Aegon says standing, “what’s got you so loyal to Nyra, huh?”

“Fuck Aegon,” Jace says shaking his head, “its just about being a decent person.”

Aegon scoffs at that.

“I don’t think anyone here has a fucking clue about what that means,” he says laughing.

“You included, asshole,” Baela snarls from across the table, “do you have any idea what you’ve been putting us through?”

“Everyone seems fine,” Aegon answers, an angry gaze falling to you, “happy even.”

“You don’t need to agree,” Rhaenyra says suddenly, “Jace and Luke have already agreed to drop the song and re-record it with me.”

“Fucking of course,” Aegon says, shaking his head.

“Enough of this,” Alicent orders, “let’s have a nice remainder of dinner.”

Aemond sits back down at his mother’s words. You bring your hand to his leg.

“I’m having a lovely time,” Aegon insists, leaning back and resting his arm across Cass’s shoulders.

“Aegon,” Aemond says, voice low. Aegon meets his gaze, mouth tugging upwards into a smirk.

“What?” he challenges.

“Enough,” Aemond says, to the surprise of Rhaenyra who leans back in her chair, glancing at Daemon.

“Are you on her side too?” Aegon asks, voice venomous.

“Of course not,” Aemond tells him.

“Steal my girlfriend, break up the band, things are going really well-”

Aegon is cut off as Aemond stands once more. Aegon slams his glass to the table, the glass shattering loudly under his palm. Cass screams, and blood begins to pool on the table.

“Eggy, you’ve cut yourself!” she cries, eyes wide with terror.

“Let’s fucking go! Right now!” Aegon yells, ignoring his injury and walking toward Aemond.

Daemon leans back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips at the show in front of him. Luke stands up and Aegon pushes by him, slamming him against the table. Rhaena yells and the dinner quickly turns into chaos.

Aemond slams his fist into Aegon’s chest as he approaches, causing him to fall backwards onto the table. Aegon punches his brother, blood from his hand leaving a streak on Aemond’s cheek. You push back in your chair, feel Alicent’s hands on your shoulders pulling you away from the brothers.

“You had enough? Huh?” Aemond growls, grabbing Aegon by the shirt.

“Fuck you!” Aegon spits directly in Aemond’s face.

Aemond growls, slamming him back on the table once more, fist reeling back.

“Let me go!” Aegon cries, as though they were small boys again tussling.

“Alright, alright enough!” Criston Cole comes between them, pulling Aemond away from Aegon.

“Fuck you!” Aegon yells, and Aemond wipes the blood on his cheek, “come on we’re leaving.”

Cass hurriedly stands, gathering her things. Alicent moves toward her eldest.

“Aegon,” she begs, but he brushes past her, Cass trailing behind.

The room is deathly silent now that the commotion has ceased, aside from the soft dripping noises from a spilled glass of wine. Daemon begins to chuckle to himself, before rising from his seat.

“Shall we?” he says, motioning for Rhaenyra.

“You’ve only just arrived,” Alicent says, her eyes sad.

“Thank you, for dinner truly,” Rhaenyra says, clasping Alicent’s hand in her own.

She turns to Jace and Luke.

“I’ll see you in the studio, tomorrow?” she asks, and the boys nod.

Aemond and Helaena stay silent, though they exchange a glance. Daeron has barely moved the entirety of dinner, eyes wide and cheeks red. Rhaenyra smiles as Daemon holds out her coat.

“Nice seeing you,” he murmurs to you as they walk past.

“You’re really recording with her?” you ask, eyes trained on Jace.

“It’s her song,” he says, meeting your gaze.

“Let’s get out of here,” Baela says, taking his hand, “I’ll talk to you later.”

Rhaena stands with Luke, not looking at you.

“Rhae-”

“Just don’t,” she says, shaking her head, “just…not tonight.”

Luke squeezes her on the shoulder and leads her from the room. You look toward Aemond, notice him flexing his hand.

“Shit, you’re bleeding,” you say, taking his hand in yours.

“It’s fine,” he insists.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” you tell him and though he pauses for a moment, he agrees nonetheless.

Helaena’s eyes are glassy, she’s standing with her gaze still fixed on the table.

“Oh my love,” Alicent says, moving toward her and embracing her.

Though not often fond of physical touch, Helaena leans into her mother’s embrace as tears begin to roll down her cheeks. Daeron reaches up from his seat, holding onto his sister’s hand. You lead Aemond up the stairs, meaning to search for one of the many bathrooms. He says nothing as you find one, sit him down and dig through the medicine cabinet. Aemond’s face is stoic as you clean the blood from his face, his hands.

You gently wrap gauze around his knuckles, before pulling him to stand. You’re worried for a moment he’s in some state of shock, his movements incredibly robotic as you walk down the hall. He stops suddenly, looking out a window, watching disappearing tail lights fade down the driveway and off in the distance.

“You know what my father said to me after the accident?” Aemond asked, facing the window.

You take a step closer to him, still giving him space. You’d never asked about it before, you’d barely heard the story at all. That’s what has him shaken up, not the fight. The talk about the accident. The talk about his eye.

“No,” you tell him.

“He said,” Aemond trails off for a moment, “tell me the truth of it.”

You look to the ground, goosebumps forming on your skin, a heaviness in your gut you cannot possibly ignore.

“Like it couldn’t possibly have happened the way I told him it did,” he continued, “like he didn’t believe a fucking word I said.”

You’re sick to your stomach, a tear rolls down your cheek. You hadn’t even noticed your eyes begin to well.

“We’re a family, he said. We have to stick together.”

“Aemond-”

“He didn’t even come to the fucking hospital,” Aemond keeps going, “he just waited at home.”

The thought turns your stomach.

“Of course when I want to stop playing, its a problem,” he goes on, “but when Rhaenyra left to go solo that’s fucking fine.”

The realization startles you.

“He made you keep playing.”

Aemond releases a bitter laugh, making the hair on the back of your neck stand on edge.

“Of course he fucking did,” Aemond tells you, shaking his head, “you think I wanted to keep playing with Luke after that?”

“Oh Aemond-”

“It was an accident,” Aemond says softly, “I know that now but…”

“You don’t have to-”

“No I want to tell you,” he continues, “my life fucking changed. Forever. And everyone just forgot about it.”

You’re standing right behind him now, and you place a hand on his back. His breathing is shallow, every breath seeming to catch in his throat.

“Mom wanted to press charges,” he tells you, “not like Viserys was going to let that happen.”

“I’m so sorry Aemond,” you told him, “you deserved justice, and I’m so sorry you didn’t get any.”

You can feel his every inhale with your hand before you slide it onto his waist, hugging him from behind. You hold onto him, letting him feel you against him. Letting him know you’re here for him. He leans into your touch, before turning to face you, burying his face in your haird. You keep your arms around him, pressing into his chest as his arms tighten around you.

“Thank you,” he murmurs into your hair.

Soft footsteps can be heard from down the hall, though you and Aemond do not break from your embrace.

“Aemond?” Alicent says, her hands fidgeting as though she doesn’t know what to do with them.

You pull away from Aemond’s chest, though he keeps his arms around you. Alicent smiles gently at you.

“It’s late,” Alicent says, “why don’t you both stay in one of the guest rooms tonight?”

You look up at Aemond, to let him decide. He nods.

“Thanks Mom,” he says and Alicent smiles.

“Of course,” she tells you both, before turning to leave.

“Thank you again, for everything,” you tell her, meaning it sincerely.

She brings a hand to your face, stroking your cheek.

“Of course,” she tells you, and retreats down the hall.

“Will she talk to your dad?” you ask Aemond.

“No,” he tells you, “besides, they don’t sleep in the same room.”

Aemond takes your hand, leading you to the guest room. You’d never stayed there before. Sure, you’d been to a handful of Targaryen parties over the past years but Aegon never made it overnight. He hated spending the night in the same house as his father.

Aemond opens a door revealing a stylish room, with a king sized bed stuffed with pillows. It was basically a hotel, with robes hanging on the back of the door and chocolates on the pillows. From the walls hung different art pieces, mostly that of dragons. You’d remembered once when first meeting Viserys he had told you about the legends surrounding his family. You could apparently trace the Targaryen family name back to medieval times, where it was said they were dragonriders.

Alicent went all out. You pluck a chocolate up, unwrap it and pop it into your mouth, letting the sweetness melt on your tongue.

“Nice,” you tell Aemond, who chuckles, laying on the bed.

He places a hand over his face, closing his eye. The drama of night has taken its toll. You sit on the bed, the mattress dipping as you do so. You lay down next to him, lacing your fingers together.

“What’s your favorite color?” you ask him.

“What?” he chuckles, removing his hand from his face.

“You heard me,” you say, leaning on your side using your elbow to prop yourself up.

He watches you curiously, before speaking.

“Blue,” he tells you, tapping at his sapphire.

“I should have guess-”

“Yeah you should have,” he says chuckling.

You stifle a laugh, face hitting the pillow. Aemond watches you laugh, smiling at you. As you lift your face you meet his gaze, narrowing your eyes.

“What?” you ask, though a smile comes through.

“Nothing,” he says, giving his head a slight shake.

You push yourself into a sitting position, the remainder of wine that tingles throughout your body giving you an extra boost of confidence.

“What is it?” you demand playfully.

“No, it’s nothing,” he insists.

You throw a leg over him, straddling his waist. He tilts his head back, lips parting as he watches you lace your fingers through his own.

“Tell meeee,” you sing-song, leaning into him.

Aemond keeps your body upright, his arms flexing.

“You’re just cute, that’s all,” he tells you.

You wrinkle your nose.

“Aemond Targaryen thinks I’m cute,” you tell him, nodding your head with every word you speak, “I never thought I’d see the day.”

He chuckles underneath you and you raise your hips, adjusting your position. You feel a tingle of desire spark through you as you feel him growing harder underneath you.

“Mhmm,” he answers, unlacing his fingers from yours, letting your hands drop onto his chest.

He brings his hands to your hips, resting them there, rubbing smooth circles on the fabric of your dress. You tap your fingers against his chest, moving upwards, fiddling with the silver chain that lays against his throat.

“I think you’re beautiful,” you tell him, causing a shy smile to appear on his face.

“Do you?”

“I do,” you tell him, fingers ghosting across the scar on his cheek.

He turns his face toward your hand, kissing the pads of your fingers. Your lips part at the sweet action. Aemond is softer than you’d imagined, his sweetness steals the breath from your lungs.

“I think you’re beautiful,” he tells you, stealing the breath from your lungs.

Aemond’s fingers dig into where your thighs meet your hips, rocking you against him slightly.

“And sexy,” he purrs, causing your face to flush.

“Aemond,” you say, a nervous giggle leaving you, before he flips you over onto your back.

He brings his lips to your neck, kissing the smooth flesh as you tangle your fingers in his hair.

“I do,” he murmurs between kisses.

You sigh, contentedly as he continues to adore you.

“I find you incredibly seductive,” he whispers against you, “it's unfair, really.”

“I’m not doing anything,” you giggle, tugging at the hair at the nape of his neck causing him to groan.

“Liar,” he says, bringing his mouth to kiss your lips, “you’re a temptress.”

You hum against his mouth, deepening the kiss as your tongue swipes his lower lip. His hand roams along the side of your body, bunching the fabric of your dress.

“Should we be doing this here?” you breathe as his hand strokes down your thigh and under your dress.

Aemond’s long fingers grip at the meat of your thigh as you turn your head to look at the door. His other hand grabs at your jaw, forcing your lips back toward him.

“What if your mom hears?” you whimper, as he kisses you harder.

Alicent’s room is not far, just down the hall. The enormous house is eerily quiet at night from the lack of residents. You’ve no idea where Daeron’s room is, but it cannot be far from the guest room either.

“You’ll just have to be quiet then,” he tells you, though it's said as a challenge.

Aemond moves off of you, dragging you towards the edge of the bed, a small yelp leaving your lips before you slap your hand over your mouth. Aemond kneels on the floor next to the bed, fingers wrapped around your calves. He quirked an eyebrow at the noise you made.

“I haven’t done anything yet,” he teases, reaching for your underwear, moving it down your legs.

“I’m sorry,” you say through a giggle.

“I told you to be quiet,” he says, eye darkening, “are you a good listener, Y/N?”

You nod, skin flushed with anticipation. He places a kiss to your thigh as he bunches your dress up toward your waist.

“Fuck,” he groans, staring at your pussy, “so wet for me already.”

You feel his mouth against your slick lower lips and bite your tongue to suppress a moan as he opens his mouth against you, pressing in. You can feel your thighs clenching, trembling at the feeling of his jaw opening and closing, mouth pulling you apart, tongue swirling against your sensitive clit. He’s truly eating you, he must be devouring you and all you can manage to think is how you need to remember every detail to tell Baela.

“I think I remember you liking this,” Aemond says, before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking.

You choke back a moan, desperately trying to keep quiet.

“No?” Aemond says releasing your bud, “hmm maybe I was wrong.”

“What-,” you whimper in disappointment at the loss of contact.

“What?” he asks, pressing a soft kiss upon your inner thigh, “you don’t like my teasing?”

You whimper, head thrashing side to side, causing him to darkly chuckle.

“Then why do you make such pretty sounds when I do?”

You open your mouth to answer before feeling his fingers stretch through your entrance, and your head falls back onto the pillow with a pitiful noise leaving your bruised lips.

“I know you like this,” he purrs, curling his fingers, “where’s that spot, princess, here?”

He’s fucking with you, you know it. Crooking his fingers, lips barely brushing your clit, as tears begin to prickle at the corner of your eyes. He loves doing this, bringing you ever so close to the edge of pleasure.

“Here?” he asks again, “hmm I’m not sure I remember.”

“Aemond,” you whimper his name. Fuck he loves torturing you.

His teeth graze your clit, as his fingers locate the rough patch within your warm walls. Your spine bows, arching off of the bed.

“Oh here?” he asks, feigning innocence, “is this it pretty girl?”

“You know it is,” you nearly sob, “Fu-fuck!”

Aemond hums, curling his fingers and circling your clit with smooth, hot strokes of his tongue. You throw your hand over your mouth as you moan, trying as best as you can to stop the sound from echoing throughout the room.

“Getting a little loud, princess,” Aemond chastises, never stopping the come hither movement of his fingers, “someone might hear you.”

You bite down on your wrist, hard enough to draw blood. You can feel your orgasm creeping up on you, building steadily causing your legs to shake.

“Come on love, come for me,” he demands, burying his face back in your pussy, tongue fluttering around your sensitive clit.

“Fuck!” you yell as do exactly what Aemond tells you, clenching around his fingers.

He releases his fingers from your sopping heat, pulling you up to kiss him. You can feel his fingers unzipping your dress and you hastily shimmy out of it. You’re not wearing a bra, the dress didn’t allow it, so you’re naked before him, clawing at the clothes he wears desperate to feel his skin against your own.

You hear a button ping to the floor as you tear open his shirt, earning a breathless chuckle from him. Aemond cups your face as you pull down his pants, freeing his erection. You pull away from his mouth.

“Lie on the bed,” you tell him.

He looks at you, clearly surprised at the shift in the power dynamic. He’s still in control ultimately, and you know that. Aemond surprises you, laying back on the bed, erection slapping against his stomach. You crawl on top of him as you did earlier, positioning his cock at your weeping entrance. You hesitate for only a moment, tilting your head.

Aemond’s violet eye is blown with lust, his lips parted in anticipation.

“Do you want me?” you ask, barely letting the tip of his member inside you.

“Yes,” he breathes, hands moving to your sides.

He doesn’t press your hips down, he leaves the control to you.

“How much?” you ask, sliding his head between your slick folds.

You watch a vein in his neck pulse, his jaw clench.

“Desperately,” he breathes, and you bite your lip.

You slide his tip through the lips of your pussy again letting it nudge your swollen clit sending a jolt of pleasure dancing up past your naval.

“Really?” you ask him.

“Yes,” he murmurs and you sink onto him, engulfing him in your tight, wet, heat.

Aemond’s moan matches yours as you let yourself settle with the stretch he gives you. You feel so deliciously full as you lift your hips, before sinking down once more. Aemond’s hands remain on your waist as you slowly roll your hips, riding him at a lazy pace. Your hands remain on his chest, nails gently digging into his pectoral muscles.

Aemond abandons his grip on your hips, pushing himself into a seated position, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and bringing you with him, one arm securely around your waist. You wrap your arms around his neck, your forearms helping you keep your pace, bouncing continuously on his thick cock. He buries his face in your chest, mouth latching onto your nipple, a broken moan escaping you.

You feel his tongue swirling around the hardened peak, before you feel his teeth nipping at the skin of your breast, marking a path up to your neck. Your thighs burn and your pace slows as you try to push past the sweet ache in your legs and chase your release. Your whole body is flushed as Aemond brings his hands to your hips, helping slam you on his cock. Your head lolls onto his shoulder as he raises his hips, meeting your movements.

“My gorgeous girl, look at you,” he croons, “riding me so fucking well.”

He winds a hand behind your neck, supporting your head to look at him. Your head is so fuzzy with pleasure all you can do is whimper at the filthy words he speaks, cheeks burning a dark shade of maroon. Aemond gives you a lustful smile, ever so pleased with the effect he has on you, and the fact that he is the only one who can make you feel this way.

“Does that feel good?” Aemond asks, holding you tightly against him.

You nod desperately, the feeling of him sliding in and out of you so effortlessly almost too much to bear.

Your nails scratch down his chest, leaving scarlet streaks on his pale skin. Aemond releases a breathy groan, looking down at the marks before looking back up at you, lavender eye hooded with desire.

Aemond wraps his arms around you, twisting you onto your back. He slows his thrusts, brushing some hair from your face. Your breathing is ragged, and you’re pressed so close to him that you feel the steady rhythm of his heart matching your own.

“Look at me,” he says softly, and you meet his eyes.

His lashes flutter and you can feel your cheeks warming with the intensity between you. The butterflies that curl in your stomach as he presses into you.

You want to run. You can feel the tears prickling at your eyes and hate that you’re going to cry. You can’t help it, can’t stop the warm river that escapes your left eye, falling to the pillow below. You inhale a shaky breath, feel Aemond wipe the tear from the corner of your eye.

“Hey,” Aemond says softly, tearing you from your thoughts.

“I’m so scared,” you whisper.

You’re so fucking scared.

“Why are you scared, baby?” he asks quietly.

His hips have stopped moving, but he still rests inside of you keeping you comfortably full and connected.

“I really like you,” you tell him, “I really like you, Aemond.”

Aemond smiles, like he’s been waiting forever to hear you say that.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Y/N,” Aemond tells you.

“How can you know that?” you ask, still teary eyed.

“I just do,” he promises, “I just…” he trails off, not finishing his sentence.

You lift your head connecting your mouths in a passionate kiss. You let yourself believe him, getting lost in the pleasure he gives you, and the promise he gives you. His hips ground against you, gently thrusting himself in and out.

“I don’t want to lose you,” you whine against his lips.

“You have me,” he answers between kisses, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Your nails are clawing at his back, desperately trying to get him closer. You wish in that moment you could curl up inside of him, keep yourself attached to him. You can feel your pleasure peaking, the wave within you beginning to crest. Aemond takes you over the edge with a final drive of his hips and you’re whimpering into his mouth, screwing your eyes shut in ecstasy.

He peppers your face with kisses, as his hips stutter with his own release. Each kiss burns away the tears that stain your cheeks, as he gently holds your face in his hands.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Aemond tells you again, “not without you.”

note: I am soft for them 🥺

DIF TAGLIST: @padfooteyes, @herfantasyworldd, @kyuupidwrites, @lost-and-founds, @doublesparrows, @virginslut08, @f4ll-for-you, @violet2507, @itsabby15, @raphaellathedragon, @tswiftsthings, @cruelmissdior, @tempt-ress, @lexyr23, @reneki, @fictionalcomforts, @serrhaewin, @yariany02, @lily174, @schniiipsel, @nina2697, @minttea07, @queenofshinigamis, @duesobabe, @maximizedrhythms, @arryn-nyx, @arcadianmoonlight @kittykylax, @hiatuswhore, @issshhh, @echos-muses, @wrendermeuseless, @youcantbesirius, @partypoison00 @chainsawsangel @bellameshipper @wondergal2001, @arcielee @rwdkarla @sweetsweetpsyche @valeric-writes @sahvlren @ohdemimonde @geminidas @darkenchantress @sophielangdonx, @khaothick, @flavorofsalt, @spinachtz, @alitaar, @crazylokonugget @eddiemadmunson

#AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH #!!!!!!!!!!!!#gooooooood fucking food #that fight at dinner??#PERFECTION #but just one question- are Jace and Luke related to Aegon and Aemond? if yes how?#and thank you THANK YOU #i was asking myself how Aemond could continue playing with Luke after what happened #i love the conversation they had at the window #cant wait to see what's gonna happen with Luke and Rhaena now👀#is she just using him in a way now that Aemond's off the market?#but i am soft for reader and aemond too #😭😭😭😭#aemond is boyfriend material x1000 #i wonder how long he's been pining for her?#i just love how you paint all these characters #none of them feel ooc to me and it's somehow very true to to the original?#like luke and jace being unapologetic when it comes to aemonds eye and daemon kinda being a creep for example?#can't wait for the next chapter omfg I'm so addicted to this #but Luke calling reader yoko Ono?#how delusional can you be #kinda misogynistic too tbh

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porcalinecunt · 4 months ago

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heyy could i ask for a jason todd x reader where they’re fucking in his room and dick happens to walk by and he js peek inside and … ykwim 😩

02 𐙚 KINKTOBER — 𝐏𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎𝐌!

🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩 the wayne manor was supposed to be empty, leaving you and your boyfie jay alone to spend a night together. unfortunately, the door wasn’t closed . . .

⋆˚࿔ FEATURING . . 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ JASON TODD & DICK GRAYSON X GN! READER

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . cw — afab!reader, pervert!dick, peeping, masterbation, jealousy, anal sex, mentions of size kink, dickie being deplorable <3

・:。[ author’s note ! 「 ✉️ 」・𓂃 ࣪˖ omfg anon, you probably awoke smth in me with this AHHHH— i might make this a kinktober entry bc its just too good! <33

“you alright..?” jason asked as he finally bottomed out. you couldn’t reply until you caught your breath and brought your whines down a notch, yet you still couldn’t bring yourself to look at you’re boyfriend in the eye. nor could you get used to having sex in the wayne mansion.

with such a large house, loud noises are bound to echo all the way into the batcave, hence why it was rare for you and jason to fuck freely in the mansion. not helping the fact that the wayne’s are a rather large family. jay’s six psudo-siblings, the bat himself and alfred makes privacy a bit difficult to have.

tonight however, was different. with bruce and most of the batkids gone to a gala for the night, the vigilante saw the golden opportunity and dragged your ass right out of your apartment for some “quality” time. of course, spending it by fucking you raw on his king sized bed for round after round as loud as he wants. hell, he didn’t bother to close the bedroom door all the way.

a fatal mistake on his end. the smallest sounds leaked through the crack, every slap to the thigh to him muttering dirty talk could’ve been heard by anyone walking by, and it was. unknowingly to either of you, someone else was nosy enough to peek through and watch the free show in front of him.

dick “dickhead” greyson, as jason lovingly refers to him by. even before you confessed to jay, you knew dick was into you. always boring his eyes into your skin as he admired every inch of your being, only for his younger brother to swoop in and take you himself. the golden boy harbors at least some jealousy, and why blame him? he’s a lover at heart, too stubborn to let go of a crush that had him palming himself when the lights went out.

now here he is, staring through the cracked door at your face while jason ruts another one in you. your eyes rolled to the back of your head as another mewl for more slipped through your teeth. “another? someone missed me a ton huh..”

he chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss against your lips in a lazy attempt to swallow your moans as he pistons his soaked cock into your cunt, clawing another orgasm out of you. the sounds of skin to skin contact drowned out the external noise of dick’s panting just a couple feet away.

he knew it was wrong, downright disgusting. peeping his own brother boning his partner’s cunt over and over again, something only a degenerate would dream of. yet, he couldn’t help himself. not with the pretty noises you’d make when jay breeds your pussy full, or the faces you’d make that contorts with pleasure. he’d fucking kill to be in that room.

with his hard cock in his hand, the ex-boy wonder pumped away at the live porno playing out. question after question running through his head, wondering the things he could do to you if he was shameless enough to walk in. “hah..ahh..fuck y/n, driving me insane here..”

he sighed, stroking himself faster as jason flipped you onto your stomach and stuffing himself into your tight ass. ‘fuck, that’ll do it..’ dick thought to himself, he never knew you were into anal, especially with a man as rough as his brother.

meanwhile, you could practically feel your third orgasm turn your body into jelly. you’re arms were close to giving out yet your boyfriend kept you up by the nape. the difference in size made you a ragdoll compared to your tank of a man, something that went straight into dick’s twitching cock.

“so small..so fuckin’ cute..” he trailed off as his orgasm made itself obvious as spurts of cum splattered against the wooden door. his eyes locked onto your trembling figure as his breathing turned into full on moans.

“jay..baby, m’ gonna cum..!” you whined as jason’s thrusts grew sloppier by the second. dick bit his bottom lip, he was already making a huge mess. a harmony of moans and skin slapping finally muted out the golden boy as he came all over himself and the door. at the same time as you and jay cumming together.

as he watched you and your boyfriend snuggle in the sweaty afterglow, dick stares down at his cum shot palm and the streaks of white on the door. he knew he had to clean up his act before jason finds out and tears him a new asshole for being a perv.

he simply couldn’t help it though, especially waiting the next time he sees your pretty ass bent over.

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takes1 · 10 days ago

Note

your needy Kenma smut was SOOO good omfg I was biting my fist reading it!! can i request a needy suna smut?

needy!suna rintarou x reader

hi!! so glad you liked it!! wow this took me so long i'm so sorry! i just could not find a way to write it without it being exactly the same as kenma's!

warnings. heavy nsfw, minors DNI

details. fem!reader / forbidden, established relationship / manager!reader / vocal!suna / whiny!suna / needy!suna / bratty!suna / liiiight mommy kink nobody freak tf out!! / suna has a cute laugh / creampie / raw cuddly sex / 1.9k words

links. my masterlist. more haikyuu. my ao3. my imagines. my request box

"Don't look at me like that, Rin'."

Your fingers were smushing the lower half of his face, angling his head away from you. His head stayed obediently forward at the center court, but those eyes were still piercing through you.

Through his fishy-lips, his words became jumbled together, "'can' helb i'--,"

It wasn't his fault he looked so mean, so critical when he focused in on something.

"I can't help it," He spat, rubbing his jaw.

Suna wasn't careful about his hand placement. The members of Inarizaki knew you had been dating for a time, but Coach Kurosu did not need a reason to question your managerial position.

When you pushed his hand away from your waist, his face scrunched; that mean and bitter look returned, tenfold.

A frustrated, hushed, but not quiet, "I want you."

Though it wasn't an appropriate time, place, or circumstance, it would be lie to say that it wasn't hot. The unique mixture of his assertive, court-like focus and lesser-known bedroom-only begging forced you to cross your arms.

"You-," You glanced around, thankful nobody heard that, "Have a game to focus on."

The attitude he gave was not only unwarranted, but it succeeded in making you less receptive. To you, it was obvious that he was only looking for an out. He was tired and halfway through a challenging match. You couldn't spare to be his partner right now, and he did not like that.

He sucked his teeth, tapped his foot, crossed his arms, worked his jaw, and gave you a sharp sigh, all within five minutes of angry silence.

What a whiny bastard.

You found his struggle almost amusing. At the moment, it was more important to maintain your focus, for the both of you.

Still, it kept you wondering throughout the remainder of the match: What had you possibly done to warrant such a strong response?

Every instance that he had to be around the bench, drinking water, a temporary switch-out, he would send you a deeply dissatisfied glance. You didn't justify it with a reaction. He was being bratty.

Though you were a prude, anti-PDA personality in public, especially around the team-- you were the one to push him back onto the mattress and throw his shirt across the room, once you were back at his place.

"Fuck--mnh!"

That pretty sigh was all he could get out before you were on top of him.

"Start talking," You muttered. Your shirt was off in seconds.

His breathing grew heavy, eyes black with lust at the sight of your pretty skin, his favorite bra he clocked earlier under your shirt- the whole reason his mind got to spinning.

Suna was kept this irritating, calculating, slithery persona up around his friends, and especially during matches, because he learned that it kept him safe. He didn't always like being so on edge. He wanted to trust somebody enough to tell them everything that passed through his mind, to be skin-to-skin and a little weird, because you were comfortable and safe.

Here, under you, after enough love and time, he knew he didn't need to waste energy on appearances.

"I- ah-h, I just wanted you so bad," Was his honest attempt at an explanation.

He sat up to touch you, kiss you, but you kept him to the sheets with a forearm.

"Are you trying to get me kicked out?"

Suna huffed, eyes bouncing from your face, to your confined tits, then back, "What?""

Your legs slid a bit further apart, weight settling better onto his warm lap, "If Coach finds out we're dating, you know I'm gone."

You snapped, just for emphasis, but he flinched, "Like that. In an instant."

He was painfully hard. You could feel him throbbing, even through his combo of athletic shorts and thick sweatpants. Despite the circumstances, you knew he was keen enough to understand that you were a little pissed off about his lack of restraint.

He was in that spot you liked seeing him work through. Struggling, deciding whether to be nice, or snarky.

"You're smarter than that, baby," Was much kinder of a statement in tone, but it tipped him off to be rude, instead.

Those narrowed eyes dripped down to your chest slow, sweet, like honey.

"Why'd you wear that, then?" He felt you stiffen. He placed a hot palm onto your hip to help his well-intentioned venom settle.

You couldn't believe that was his entire problem, summed up in five words.

"Are you really so dirty-minded that you could tell what bra I was wearing? Under my shirt?"

The call-out was meant to return his energy, but he responded in a more secure way than you.

"When it's you, yeah--," He sat up with ease, against your pushing, just to remind you that he could outclass your force if he wanted to. He caught your small frown and he corrected himself, "Yes, ma'am."

You gave a small hum, a low-lidded stare right back at him. He was so hot when he deferred to you.

It warranted a strong, messy kiss- all charged with hours of denial, suggestive glances, and too many minutes of clothed rubbing.

All your clothes came off in a range of easy to difficult, distracted efforts.

Suna lay under you, all flushed and twitchy with anticipation. Your hands flitted down his sensitive, strong sides, his cock crammed between your legs, getting spoiled and slick. Not inside, not just yet.

You loved tickling him just to hear his laugh.

And he'd tolerate anything with you gliding over his dick, like that. Giving him such a good view.

"Shhh-haha-h-ahh!" He bit his lip to keep from giggling, moaning, too much or too loudly.

That look he gave you was enough. All twisted, pleading, intelligent. Like he knew exactly what he said and how he said it, would get you turned on.

His sound was adorable, rare.

It was unrestrained, and light, cute, enough to understand why he kept it behind his hand around his friends. Sounded exactly like something a bunch of guys might make fun of him for.

"Hmm.. Let's cuddle fuck," You pressed a tingly kiss just under his ear.

You knew he was feeling lazy. Your job today wasn't easy, either. You wanted to feel close at the end of a busy day, more than anything.

Suna was warm, and tired, and tacky to the touch but it all added to how badly you wanted each other. It was a demanding match, and getting all upset with each other made it feel that much longer.

Slick, and hot, and easy was the adjustment to him. Nothing to do with his real size- you were just ready, after having to put up an act, as if you were too above all of it.

The panting you had to listen to on the sidelines, watching him miss his mouth with the squeezy bottle, all the sweat and water dripping onto his jersey, it ate at you, corroded the brick walls you put up. Even his frustrated glare was sexy. He couldn't stop looking at you, even with an important task at hand, or when his teammates needed him to focus.

Now he fucked you like your mean -still, justified- rejection was never a problem, like he was savoring you slowly.

"Yes-yes, yesyes," Suna swallowed up your moans in a greedy kiss.

"Mmh- how's that feel--?" You purred.

"So good," A satisfied groan, "Fuck- Got such a perfect pussy."

His hand kept your thigh up, your knee close to your shoulder. He inspired a gasp at how quickly he bottomed out to your teasing.

He stretched you so good, so easily, and kept your trembling steady in his grasp-- but every sound he made was shaky, barely held together, and never masked.

After three months, Suna decided at some point on his own that he could trust you enough to completely let go in the bedroom. Though he naturally gravitated to a more submissive role, he usually said some downright sleazy, vulgar shit to get his kicks.

"A-ha, h-fuc-k, aughh, you feel so good, you--," His breath clipped into a high, closed-mouth whine as he pulled you harder onto the base of his cock, just flexing hard, as deep as he could get.

Your teeth sunk into his pillowcase, fingers filled with plush.

The knowledge that he loved it, but couldn't ever get as deep as he wanted, had your strength waning. Squeezing, bracing, at all the butterflies tired you out.

Although, if it were a competition, Suna had you beat by a mile. The drooling, whiny mess behind you may have had enough to strength to use his body weight to keep you smushed, but you could tell he was sloppier, clumsier, with exhaustion.

He buried his face in your neck.

"I-I'h- needed you so bad," His moan was so light and breathy- like he was swimming on Cloud 9-, "So-h, so... fucking...bad."

Your uncontrollable squirm to get away from the sensation was met with instant crushing. Even if you wanted your thigh back, it would never happen.

"Mh-h-! Rin-," You tried to speak, but he was hitting all your angles just right, so you stopped.

His words were twisting up that knot in your tummy, the trap of his arms a steady, innocent backdrop to how filthy he decided to fuck you.

Slurred mutters, consisting of mostly nonsense syllables and phrases, sometimes bred real messages like, "So hot," "Mommy," "So much," and, "'Can't take it."

His yapping, you thought, may have been a way of making up for how little he spoke, usually. You were generally much quieter than him here, but outside of the bedroom, the opposite remained true. It was cute.

"M'so- close-mh," His groans were short, choked on pleasure, his squeezing desperate and uneven.

The idea of him finishing close, hugging you, just like this, was too hot to let not happen.

You gathered yourself to tell him, "C-um-- Mh, inside, pretty boy."

"F-uck!" That tone completely tipped him over the edge.

Your grin was to yourself, twitchy and genuine, before the feeling of fullness set in.

He was left to fuck out his load as deep inside of you as he could get, "Fuckfu-ck- Ahh-hh-!"

Your nails dragged across his skin- the white hot, pulsing enough to spur a sudden orgasm. Dark lines remained in their wake as your muffled whines filled his ears.

And Suna was nothing if not dedicated. He fucked you as well as he could through your own, whinier, less violent experience. His breath, laden in the resolution of his own, was hot and tingly across your sensitive ear.

You squeezed his arm to stop and he finally let your leg down.

"Hm...sorry," He mumbled into a peck against your cheek, "You okay?"

Sore, and achy, you shared a giggly kiss. He softened naturally and you readjusted to hold each other, warm and soft, with chemical infatuation.

"Mhmm," You stole a longer, slower kiss.

Those pretty eyes watched you, worshipped you, as you rubbed your hand across his jaw.

"Perfect."

☆VIP☆

@integers @paradoxicalwritings @yuchacco

my masterlist. more haikyuu my request box

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beloveds-embrace · 1 month ago

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Noona you have given me brain worms.

I wonder what the guys would do if they found the scentless reader had entered an enemy house and killed them all before the guys could get close because of their lack of scent? Does John hate using them for intrusions but does it anyways because it's the best chance of everyone coming home alive? Do the guys have a ritual of coming home off missions and rescenting their reader? I really need to stop thinking about this one and get back to homework.

(As an aside I am in LOVE with your writing and I read your works when I get stuck because you craft words so well.)

I claim no guilt over giving anyone brain worms, and omfg thank you!! That’s extremely high praise to me bc i absolutelyyy love your works <33 💕💕 :3 for your first question, they wouldn’t exactly be surprised. It’s why you were brought on the Task Force, it’s what makes you so useful. But once they reached the state of wanting you, and then slowly pulling you in?

They hated it. Hated it every damn time Price gave the order, even if they knew it was the right call.

No scent. No designation. No trace of you ever being there.

You were a ghost, in ways that even Simon couldn’t match. Silent, invisible to the senses, slipping through enemy lines like smoke and leaving nothing but bodies in your wake.

It was useful. Crucial, even. Quite literally the reason why the military had so much use of you. The best chance of keeping everyone alive. Price knew it, hated it, and did it anyway. Every time.

But it never stopped the way his chest felt tight when he had to send you ahead- alone. Never stopped the sharp glances Ghost shot him before you slipped away into the shadows, or the way Soap and Gaz went so still as they listened for any sign of trouble over the comms.

And it definitely never stopped what came after.

The moment you were back- safe and whole but covered in blood- Price’s hand was on the back of your neck, thumb digging gently into your faulty scent gland, his grip firm and grounding. Ghost was right behind him, his presence dark and heavy, crowding close enough to make your breath hitch. Neither of them spoke. They didn’t have to.

Soap and Gaz weren’t far behind. Soap’s hands were already reaching for your gear, tugging straps and buckles loose, brushing against your skin as if to remind himself you were there. Gaz hovered close enough that you could feel the heat of him, his fingers brushing yours when he helped you unclip your holster.

They didn’t leave your side. Not through debriefing, not through cleaning up, not even when you asked them to.

And later- once the adrenaline wore off and exhaustion set in- they were all but dragging you into the nest.

It was deliberate, the way they settled you down in the middle of it, surrounded by blankets that smelled like them, by them. Soap’s hands lingered on your hips, steady and warm, and Gaz was already curling up beside you, pressing into your side like he was trying to leave traces of his scent on your skin.

Price sat at your back, his chest pressed to your spine, one arm looped around your waist while the other cradled your head, tucking it under his chin. He didn’t say anything- just held you there, anchoring you in place as Ghost knelt down in front of you, tugging off your boots and brushing his gloved fingers along your calves and ankles as he went.

And then they started.

Ghost first, leaning in close to press his masked face against your neck. The slow, deliberate drag of fabric and leather along your skin made you shiver, and he didn’t stop until Price hummed low in approval. Soap followed, brushing his cheek against your shoulder before dipping low to nuzzle at your thigh, his hands curling loosely around your knee.

Gaz was next, pressing his forehead against yours and lingering there long enough that you could feel his breath warm against your cheek.

Price was last. His beard scratched lightly against your skin as he dragged his mouth along your throat and jaw, rumbling quietly when you tilted your head for him without thinking.

It took hours. Longer than necessary, longer than it had to, but they didn’t stop until you were covered in them- soaked in their scents and surrounded on all sides.

Didn’t stop until Ghost finally leaned back, pulling his mask away just long enough to press his lips against your temple, and murmured, “There. No one’s getting near you now.”

(If it was before, when you still didn’t realize what they were doing- everything was sharper. Tighter.

They didn’t say anything, but you felt it. Felt the weight of their eyes on you when Price ordered you to take point. Felt the way Soap’s jaw clenched when you slipped away, silent and invisible, like you always did.

You noticed how Gaz lingered by the comms, fingers tapping nervously against the console even though he wasn’t the type to fidget. How Ghost’s hands hovered near his weapons, muscles coiled and ready to move like he was waiting for something to go wrong.

And then there was Price.

Price, who stood stiff and silent until you reappeared, covered in someone else’s blood and staring at him like you knew he hated it but couldn’t bring himself to say so. Price, who didn’t let go of your shoulder the entire debrief, whose thumb rubbed small, grounding circles into your skin every time someone so much as looked at you the wrong way, and you told yourself it was just some weird Alpha instinct that you wouldn’t realize.

They didn’t say anything, not really. Just kept touching- light brushes of Soap’s arm against yours, Gaz’s hand lingering a little too long when he passed you gear, Ghost standing so close you could feel the heat of him against your back.

You thought it was just nerves. Stress. You didn’t think it was something else- not until later.

Not until you were sitting in the nest, exhausted.

Not until you caught Ghost staring at you like he wanted to devour you, or Price leaning in so close that you felt his breath on your skin when he murmured, “Stay still, love.”

Not until Soap tucked himself against your side with a soft, pleased sound, and Gaz let out a low purr, his hands running up and down your arms like he was soothing something neither of you could name.

You didn’t understand it- not then- but they did. The confusion on your face was almost cute if not just a touch infuriating.)

799 notes · View notes

sooniebby · 1 year ago

Note

,,,,, reader (ftm) is Megumi's babysitter n when DILF Toji comes back he rails the reader (Megumi is asleep upstairs so he doesn't hear anything lmao),,,, yes i know this is one of THE cheesiest porn plots ever but I love it sm

ఌ 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

꧁ 𝙏𝙤𝙟𝙞 𝙭 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ꧂

w.c. › 6.4k

Warnings › a broke man and a nasty ass house.Also age gap.. reader is around 20. Reader is trans masc. I went too far guys omfg… the plot took over. Slow-ish slow burn.. they kinda start fucking randomly.. also mamaguro didn’t die until Megumi was 6.

Kinks › use of pussy/cunt/feminine terms, breeding, manhandling, degradation, size kink. Reader is called housewife. Mention of getting pregnant.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

“What… the fuck..?”

You were shocked. Baffled. Bewildered. What the fuck was this mess?! You weren’t even inside the house and could see what looked to be ants having a conga line as they stole crumbs off the floor.

The kid you were set to babysit didn’t look bothered by the mess. Megumi..? Was it?

Megumi hummed, noticing your shocked stare at the mess he was forced to call a home. “It’s… it’s not too bad if you ignore the kitchen.”

“Where’s…?” You whispered, slowly walking into the house. You didn’t even want to take off your shoes but it seemed Megumi was wearing his shoes.. so you kept yours on.

“He went to work.” Was all Megumi said as he shuffled over to the small living room. He plopped down onto the couch and began watching tv. You gently placed your bag down on the floor in the only clean-ish area of the house. Just.. how can it get this bad? Was he never home?

“Uhm.. well… I’m guessing you’re Megumi?” You asked, walking over to the couch. Megumi gave you a hum as he began shifting through channels with a remote that looked as if it was one press from combusting. As you sat down, Megumi quickly spoke.

“No! Not that—”

Crack!

You blinked in perplexity as you weren’t sitting on a comfy cushion of a couch. No.. you were sitting through the couch, your ass practically touching the floor. You grunted, your legs flailing as you tried to get out of this death trap masquerading as a couch.

“What… the… fawk?!” You screamed, already wishing you didn’t accept this gig.

“Dad broke that side of the couch.. he hasn’t replaced it yet.” Megumi muttered, getting up as he grabbed your hand and began pulling.

He was only around ten the most… there wasn’t much strength to his pulls. It took an embarrassingly long time until you finally got out. If Megumi wasn’t going to be alone in this devil trap, you would’ve ran out screaming. But you quickly took a deep breath and tried to calm down.

“Usually.. they all leave around this time.” Megumi whispered, seemingly waiting for you to just bolt out the door. “Can you… at least stay until I go to bed, Mister…?”

He looked up at you. The usual cute little kid puppy eyes and pouted lip. You sighed and simply nodded. It wasn’t the kid’s fault he had a lazy man as a father. You briefly wondered where the mother was but didn’t think it was right to ask Megumi such a question.

Instead… you glanced over at the clock.

9:30 a.m.

Okay.. the father should come home at around 6 p.m.? The latest? So you could stay for this kid. Might as well, you travelled a bit far. Because surprisingly, the pay was pretty good. But now you wondered if you weren’t getting any of that money when you glanced at the state of the home.

“Well. Have you eaten?” You asked.

“Yeah.”

“What’d you eat?”

“….cookies.”

You groaned. You stormed over to the mess of a kitchen and began opening the cabinets to find nothing! You opened the pantry—zilch! You opened the fridge with a look of despair—nada!

You would’ve screamed and cried if you didn’t want to embarrass yourself more in front of a kid ten years younger than you. With a grunt, you looked back at Megumi who looked unconcerned with his poor excuse of a kitchen.

“Let’s go to the grocery store….” You muttered through your teeth. You were glad Megumi was already dressed. But it was confusing.. his clothes looked decent. Did the dad spend all money on Megumi’s clothes?

10:10 a.m.

You fucking hated the city! All this damn traffic. And you almost lost Megumi!! The two of you were now in the grocery store, you hand gripped tightly around Megumi’s as you stomped around with a look of anger. Your lips in a permanent snarl while your eyebrows furrowed.

This wasn’t even your kid but it certainly felt like it!

Megumi, despite a bit confused on why you seemed so worked up, had a small smile on his face. It was.. normal to just grocery shop—even if it was with a man he didn’t even know well.

Once you began to check out, you almost cried at the price. You slowly handed your credit card to the clerk, your grip tight as she had to wrestle it out of your hand. Silent tears streamed down your face as you spent money on someone who’s not even your kid..

Gosh.. why’d you have to care so much, (Name)?!

“What does your dad even do?” You asked as you two sat on the train back to Megumi’s house. The train was empty—the only two souls being you and Megumi. And this random guy towards the end but he doesn’t matter.

Megumi hummed, lost in thought. “Dunno.”

You groaned. Well, it didn’t matter anyway. You were just going to take care of this kid today and never come back. As you began checking your phone, the soft weight of someone resting on your arm jolted you. You glanced down and saw Megumi snuggled up against you, already deep in sleep.

Fuck…

Curse kids being cute.

11:50 a.m.

The sounds of harsh scrubbing filled the Fushiguro household. Clinking pots and sounds of labored breathing were one. Megumi was on the couch, the safe side, eating an omelette you made for him. It was an actual healthy meal—filled with protein and fiber. But you…

You were on your knees scrubbing what looked to be weeks old spill of pasta. Or.. something. It was red and smelled a bit. But you weren’t quite sure. As you scrubbed the spot away—you glanced around the kitchen with a frown. The only thing cleaned up.. was the sink and now the floor.

Everything else was still dirty.

So, for the next few hours, you began cleaning. Maybe it was for Megumi.. you felt terrible that he had to live in such a dirty home. Perhaps you saw yourself in him—being forced to live in a house that your parents didn’t care to make it feel like a home.

“Mister (Name), can we go to the park later?” Megumi suddenly asked. You glanced behind yourself to see him holding his now empty plate as he dropped it in the sink.

“Sure. Will your dad be okay with it?”

Megumi shrugged. “Maybe.” He walked away after that.

This kid didn’t seem to care that much on his father opinion. But you were just a babysitter, not some type of disciplinary parent. The smell of the fumes from the cleaning sprays was getting to you, so you grabbed a random candle and lit it.

The candle looked to be a lavender one. It’s case still brand new. Compared to most things in this house.. it looked taken care of. The smooth container was soft against your skin as you placed it on the newly cleaned kitchen counter. It smelled nice.

It was a lavender candle. You couldn’t go wrong with lavender.

“You lit it?” Megumi suddenly whispered, his eyes turned over to you.

You hummed. “Yeah. Is.. this not for lighting?” You muttered, realizing you should’ve asked first.

“No.. it’s fine. I doubt he even remembered it was there,” he muttered, his voice a bit angry before he turned his body back to the tv.

You wanted to ask.. why he wouldn’t remember it. But you thought back to the missing mother. Oh. Was this hers? You felt awful lighting it now. So grabbing the covering, you covered the candle, letting the flame die out. As you watched the light go out—it felt worst letting it die than letting it burn.

“Megumi, I’m going to check out the bedrooms, okay?”

“Ok.”

You walked up the stairs and opened the first door you saw.

The bigger bedroom.. wasn’t the father’s. It was Megumi’s. And it was perfect. A nice citrus smell filled the room from the fragrance plugs. A nicely painted blue colored walls. Toys packed neatly and a bed that looked cared for.

Even the floor was cleaned. It squeaked beneath your shoes.. you quickly took them off. As you left the room, closing the door with a soft smile on your lips, you walked to the spare bedroom. Opening the door, the bedroom was small. More like an office.

But it certainly was more fit for the child—not the father. You wondered why he gave Megumi the bigger room but it made sense in that, perhaps he just wanted to give Megumi more space. The room was dirty, just like the rest of the house. Wrappers crinkled beneath your feet as you shuffled around, trying to see what was in the room.

When you turned on the light.. you noticed that this was also Megumi’s space. The wrappers were candy and there was more toys all over this room. But it didn’t make any sense. This was a two bedroom home..? Or.. you thought about the room downstairs that was locked when you were searching for cleaning supplies.

Ah, that must’ve been the true master bedroom.

You cleaned the spare bedroom and noticed that it was more like an office. You checked the closet and saw dresses, skirts, and heels. It was obviously the mom’s—but they haven’t been worn in awhile.

You closed the door, deciding you shouldn’t snoop too much in this family’s business. You whispered a quick soft apology for disbursing the room obviously left to the mother and walked out.

Downstairs, Megumi was still watching tv but he quickly stood up at the sight of you. He smiled a bit and sprinted over to you.

“Why’d you let it stop? You can burn it.” He said, pointing to the candle.

You glanced over at it. “I… I don’t know. Your father had it hidden between the cleaning supplies… I only found it by accident.”

“Please… I..” Megumi sighed. “I miss her smell.”

You felt guilty… but as there was no father to object, you started the candle once more. Megumi was considerably happy as he jumped back onto the couch and payed attention to the tv.

The gnawing feeling of guilt hurled in your guts but you pushed it back. The house still had spots to clean. Keeping yourself busy with that—you cleaned the living room and the front area of the home.

Lavender filled your nose as you moved about. It was comforting, swirling around as if it was livening up each corner of the home. Megumi was happy.

5:50 p.m.

Okay. Time for dinner. You felt a bit embarrassed forgetting to give Megumi lunch but he didn’t seem to mind. Probably has to do with the amount of snacks he was eating while you cleaned. You made the easiest thing ever, chicken Katsu curry. As you gave Megumi his portion, you noticed there was enough for at least two more people. So you placed them in the fridge. Despite having a bit of a grudge against the dad..

It wouldn’t hurt to leave him dinner.

It only took a near hour before Megumi was reminding you about the park. Your body was sore though, from slaving away in cleaning this damn house. And it was a job well done.. no more ants conga lining or the nasty smell of what could be assumed as blood.

“Okay, okay… Only for an hour the most—I don’t know if your dad will be okay with it.” You said, smiling softly.

9:00 p.m.

Okay, so it wasn’t an hour.. nearly four! But it was hard. Megumi was having so fun swinging and then you guys started playing tag.. and then hide and seek. And then—

Okay, you don’t have a backbone when it comes to cute kids.

You hummed softly as you walked back home—Fushiguro’s home! Megumi was in your arms, face nuzzled into your neck as he slept away. The sun was already down by now, the only light was the street lights shining down on you.

Even if the dad didn’t pay you much.. you would come back, just for Megumi. As you trudged up the slight hill to the house, you wondered how parents who carried their child did it so often. It felt like a workout.

Once you reached the house, you stopped in your tracks.

There was man standing at the door.

He was tall, certainly taller than you. Dressed in a long black t-shirt with baggy tan pants. You stepped back ready to start running when a gust of wind caused you to shriek.

The man was right in front of you. His eyes bore down on you with a look of pure bloodlust before his eyes flickered to the body in your arms. He calmed down, noting.. Megumi was in your arms.

So you must’ve been the babysitter. Huh, he never expected a man.

Well, he certainly scared you off with how he just acted.

“I,” his voice was deep. “I lost my keys.”

You blinked. Anger. Frustration.

“What the fuck?!” You screamed.

The man backed away a bit, raising his hand up in confusion. He obviously looked confused at your sudden burst of anger… did it anger you that much that he lost his keys?

You pulled out the spare keys you had in your pocket and opened the front door, storming inside with the dad right behind you.

“Put him to bed!” You yelled, pointing at Megumi.

He took Megumi from your arms and went upstairs. You took that as your chance to grab your bag. Well, you did what Megumi wanted, stayed until he fell asleep.

Just as you were about to leave, the dad was downstairs already. Okay, that wasn’t possible or normal but you didn’t know if you were just sleep deprived.

“The trains are closed for the night. Are you going to walk home?” He asked.

“Maybe! Why do you care?”

“It’s not safe.”

“It’s not safe to leave trash all over the house.”

He looked over at you with a raised eyebrow, as if waiting to see if you’d continue with your disrespect. But you pursed your lips shut. Yeah, it wasn’t safe going home this late. Especially when you lived so far away from here.

“Fine. I cleaned the spare bedroom anyway, it’ll be fine to sleep in.”

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“No. That room is off limits.”

You rolled your eyes. “Fine. The couch will do.” You whispered, storming over to the couch. But of course… you forgot which side was the broken one.

And once again, you were stuck in the broken couch. You didn’t even flail this time. Only a whine of disappointment as you decided to accept your faith. The dad was busy doing something as he didn’t come over to you until you heard the microwave turn on.

“That side is broken.”

“I noticed.” You grunted.

The man grabbed your arm and easily pulled you out, causing you to shriek.

“You shriek a lot.. are you a mouse?”

“A mouse?!”

“You’re so loud, mouse.”

“It’s (Name), oaf!”

“Toji.”

You rolled your eyes and moved to go sit down but his grip on your arm didn’t waiver. It wasn’t like he was putting much force into it, it was a light easy grip. But it still held you in place.

He leaned down a bit, his nose sniffing you. You gagged at him being so close but could only pull away a bit from him.

“You stink.” He simply stated.

“Stink?!” You screeched. “I busted my ass cleaning your dirty house for Megumi!”

“Huh? I didn’t hire you as a maid. You’re Megumi’s babysitter.”

“Well,” you muttered, trying to explain yourself. “It’s.. not good for Megumi to live in such a dirty space. Kids get sick easily!”

Which was technically true.

Toji hummed. “Okay, Housewife—you still stink.”

“Housewife—?!”

“—so go bathe before going to bed.”

“I don’t have any clothes.”

“I’ll give you something.”

With that, Toji walked away to the kitchen and grabbed the plate of microwaved curry. You glared at him but walked over to the bathroom.

It was recently cleaned as the acidic scent attacked your nostrils. You started the bath, letting it fill in as you got undressed. Toji was right though—you certainly didn’t smell as nice as you did when you first got here.

“Hey, Housewife.”

You screamed out, covering your chest as the bathroom door opened. Toji kept his eyes closed as he tossed a towel inside.

“Stop screaming, you’ll wake up Megumi.”

The door closed after that. Your face was flushed red as your lips curled into a pout. Shit. You were so loud. You stopped the water and got inside, ready to just take a long relaxing bath.

9:50 p.m.

You hummed, feeling yourself being wrapped in a nice fluffy blanket. You only giggled, snuggling into the warm embrace. Strong arms held you up and suddenly you were moving.

It felt so nice being cuddled by warmth, especially after that cold bath. But you didn’t know why the bath was cold. It was hot when you started it.

You shook awake when you felt your body drop onto a bed. Toji had carried you from the bathtub. You quickly fixed your towel to make sure you were properly covered as you watched him walk to his closet.

“Be careful next time, Housewife. You were about to drown if I didn’t check on you.”

“Huh? Drown? And it’s (Name)! I’m a guy, damn it!”

“Your head was underwater.”

“Oh.. how long was I in there?”

“Almost an hour.”

You shivered. Well, thank god you didn’t even attempt to walk home. You would’ve passed out mid walk. Toji looked busy, moving clothes around in his closet as he hyper focused on them.

“Here.”

You flinched as a large t-shirt was thrown at your face. It was a black one that would certainly cover your body fully. But.. there was no underwear. You took the chance to slip the shirt on when Toji’s back was still facing you.

The t-shirt practically engulfed you, way too big for your body. As you examined the big shirt, Toji closed the closet door. You glanced up when you felt his eyes on you.

“You can watch Megumi for another day, yeah?”

“Wha? Why?”

“I got another job.” Was all he said as he left the bedroom.

With a grunt you shot out of bed and followed after. You watched as he slipped back into his shoes and was standing by the front door, ready to just leave! Who does that?

“Hey!” You yelled, before quickly quieting down when you remembered Megumi was asleep. “What type of job do you have to be leaving so late?!”

“You’re the babysitter.. Focus on Megumi. I’ll pay you extra.”

“The pay doesn’t matter, asshole! Megumi needs a parent that is actually here. It’s better for him,” you said, stomping over to Toji.

You opened your mouth to speak once more but was muffled when Toji grabbed your face. He stared down at you, a look of disinterest on his face. You could feel his eyes just taking you in, looking at your features. Your lips, eyes, nose.

His hand was so large against your face, so easily holding your jaw still and squishing your chubby cheeks. Your lips were pursed together as you tried to make a sound. He leaned down towards you, his lips right near your ears as he whispered to you.

“You should be careful when moving your arms up so high, especially without underwear.” Was all he said before leaving.

The door slammed shut when you finally realized what he meant. Your face flushed red in embarrassment. Fuck!

This guy…

12:30 p.m.

It was the next day and no sign of Mister Fushiguro “Toji”. You stabbed angrily at your salad. Megumi was unfazed but certainly happy that you hadn’t left last night. You had to stay in Toji’s shirt and just grab the smallest pants there.

Still no underwear.

Even the smallest pants kept falling a bit if you didn’t hold it while walking. You had pulled up the shirt and used a rubber band to tighten it so it wasn’t knee length anymore.

If Megumi noticed you were wearing his father’s clothes, he didn’t say anything.

“What time does your dad get home?”

Megumi hummed. “Dunno. Depends.”

“On what?”

Megumi seemed to hesitate so you didn’t push it.

Didn’t matter, as soon as Toji got home, you’d give him a piece of your mind.

11:20 p.m.

The door opened. You were right there in front of it, ready to yell when you froze. Toji had a gash on his arm, bleeding all onto the floor. But he didn’t seem fazed by it. On the contrary, it was as if it was another Tuesday to him. Your lips parted, only sounds that could out being a soft ‘huh?’

Toji looked at you, seeming to be a bit shocked you were still there. His eyes flickered down.

“You love flashing me, huh?”

You blinked in confusion and looked down to see the pants pooling around your legs. For fuck sakes! You quickly pulled up the pants and blushed heavily, thoughts rushing in your mind.

“W—Where were you?! Why are you bleeding?!” You whispered yelled. Megumi was upstairs sleeping.

Toji hummed nonchalantly as he walked to the kitchen and opened one of the cabinets, pulling out some napkins and bandages. The gash was still bleeding as blood began pooling around his feet.

Was.. that how…? You pushed the thought away and trudged over to him. With quick hands, you grabbed the materials from him and began cleaning the wound. You had so many questions—wanting to know just what type of job could do this to him.

But you were the babysitter. And that’s all you were.

When you finished, the makeshift bandages that were wrapped hazardously around his arm. It wasn’t properly secured as it slipped a bit when Toji moved his arm but he still thanked you and fixed it to be tighter.

Silence filled the room as you grabbed some paper towels to clean up the blood on the ground.

Toji didn’t say anything, just watching you clean. Were you just this weird? He didn’t know a boy like you would be interested in babysitting, much less cleaning the entire house.

He knew he should’ve thanked you yesterday for cleaning it—but he didn’t. He wasn’t even sure why.

“What job do you have?” You suddenly asked, standing up as you threw away the dirty paper towels. Toji glanced at you. You expected him to just answer but instead he said..

“Cook somethin’ for me, Housewife. I’m starving.” He said, walking over to the living room. He plopped down onto the couch and grabbed the remote, turning the tv on.

You stared at the back of his head in shock. And pure rage but since you didn’t want to wake up Megumi, you silently cursed him out as you made him the laziest dinner ever.

It was fucking 12:00 a.m. by now! No way were you going to go all out for this broke lazy man.

You gave him a bowl of leftover salad and store bought sushi you and Megumi had left over. You could tell Toji looked a bit disappointed but still took the bowl from you.

As he ate, you still wanted to know more.

“Why do you keep calling me housewife? I’m a man, y’know!”

“So?” He simply said. “You embody the housewife… so I’ll call you housewife.”

You glared at him. “How?! Just by cleaning?”

“Cleaning. Taking care of Megumi. Restocking the kitchen. Making me dinner.”

“I made the dinner for Megumi.” You muttered bitterly.

“Oh, right.” Toji muttered, fishing something out from his dirty pants. There were stains you knew weren’t water… you told yourself it was his blood—not someone else’s. He pulled out a wad of cash and placed it into your hands.

“Paycheck.”

You counted the money. “It’s more than promised.”

“You stayed longer than necessary.”

“Right.” You whispered. You walked over and placed the cash into your bag. No one payed with cash as much anymore but you didn’t want to know why he wasn’t sending it electronically.

You glanced over at Toji, getting a better look of him. He was as good looking as a man who obviously hasn’t been grooming himself often. His eyes flickered to yours, a raised eyebrow as he waited for you to say something.

“Oh.. uh.. will you be going out for work again..?”

“No. I have enough money for at least a week.”

“Will you.. at least spend time with Megumi?”

Toji hummed. “It’s only been two days but you’re already caring a lot for Megumi.” He looked over at you. “You enjoy being with kids?”

“Do you?”

Toji stood up suddenly, causing you to flinch in shock. He placed the empty bowl on the small wooden coffee table and walked past you to the front door.

“Where are you going?” You asked, watching as he grabbed a jacket from the small closet. He didn’t even struggle pulling the jacket on—it was as if his wound didn’t hurt him. He was leaving? Again? With no work to do?!

It wasn’t on purpose. Really, you just acted so fast. Your hands were gripped tightly on his. You were staring right at his hand. The rough feeling of his palms—certainly of one that has held… his hand was large against yours. Even two of your hands were small compared to one of his. Toji glanced down at you, noticing that your—his, really—pants fell down again. He was about to comment on it again, ready for you to jump in embarrassment.

But when he saw your face, he paused.

Your eyes were a bit puffy, watery as you looked up at him. You.. This random guy he hired two days ago to watch Megumi was going to cry over him?

His dick twitched in his pants.

“Just… stay tonight. You might not notice it.. but Megumi was so happy when he woke up to me still here.” You whispered, leaning in closer to Toji. “I know I’m just a stranger and I’m not supposed to be bothering you like this… but I—uh, for Megumi… it’d be nice.”

The soft hums of the tv from the random show Toji was watching continued on. Even if it had been almost two days, the soft lavender smell still danced around the house. Just breathing it in brought you a sense of peace. Your grip loosened on Toji’s hand as you realized that this was a bit much. Maybe you did care a bit too much about Megumi.

But you weren’t even sure why.

A low deep laugh caught your attention as you looked up. Toji’s lips were pulled into a smirk as he used his free hand to grab your face harshly. Panic filled you as you reached up and grabbed at his arm, believing he was about to hurt you.

“You’re really embodying this housewife role, (Name). I guess I need to let you do your other job as well.” He said. “I was going to have some fun with a prostitute but.. I should’ve just went to my housewife.”

“Let’s take a bath first, can’t smell bad during your first time.”

12:20 a.m.

You weren’t sure why you didn’t say shit. Toji was relaxed in the bathtub that was not made for two people. Especially not someone as large as Toji.

The water was warm against your skin as you stared at your knees brought up to your chest. You were between Toji’s muscular thighs, making sure your back didn’t rest against his chest. Toji’s soft hums began to sound like light snoring. And, weirdly enough, you liked hearing it. You began getting comfortable but still curled up into yourself. A large hand gripped your waist and pulled you back, forcing your back to lay on his chest.

You meeped in shock, face flushed. But Toji didn’t say anything. His hand continued to rest on the curve of your waist, his thumb slowly tracing little circles all over it. The feeling of the warm water and comfortable touching on your body, you felt your eyes flutter close.

It wasn’t until you felt the subtle touch of something on your ass was when you shook awake.

It was a dick.

A.. uh, big one at that.

You looked over your shoulder, seeing Toji mostly asleep. His head was resting against the wall while his chest rose and fell slowly. You gently turned around to fully face him. He was hot. Sexy maybe.

But definitely older than you.

You reached out and rest your hands on his chest, leaning close to Toji. You didn’t know what exactly you were doing but you wanted to kiss him. Maybe constantly being called a housewife was getting to you.

Your body was fully pressed against his—lips close to his when a hand was squeezing your hips. You whimpered and pulled away, looking down to see Toji looking up at you with a lazy smirk.

“You’re not just a housewife, huh? Also a slut too.”

“No… ‘m not..” you muttered, blushing heavily as Toji’s hand trailed down to your ass and began to harshly knead it.

“You’re not? But what were you trying to do just now?”

You pursed your lips and looked away. Yeah, you were trying to kiss him. It felt embarrassing to be caught red handed like that. Toji hummed as he watched you squirm. His hands rose up and gripped your waist. You looked back at him and wondered if he was going to push you away.

But instead of pushing you away, he pulled you against your chest as he stood up. You gasped and quickly wrap your arms around his neck as a way to stay upright as he walked out of the tub. He didn’t even bother grabbing a towel—simply walked nude and wet to the bedroom with you in his arms. He was only even using one arm to keep you up.

He unceremoniously dropped you onto the bed. You let out a huff, glaring at him. The bed was now wet from the water on your body. It seeped into the blankets and when you tried to move off the bed, Toji grabbed your foot and pulled you towards the edge of the bed. You shrieked at his strength.

He had no problem just dragging or picking you up like a rag doll.

With your legs dangling off the bed, Toji lifted them up, causing your body to uncomfortably arch.

“Toji! This is uncomfortable,” you whined.

“I know.”

You watched with a bated breath as Toji kneeled at the edge of the bed, placing your legs on either side of his shoulder. The position was odd. You were resting on your shoulders and upper back with your lower half raised up by Toji’s grip. His large hands had a harsh grip on your thighs. You were sure there would be bruising in the morning.

“Usually, I don’t reward sluts.. but because you’re my housewife, I’ll be nice.”

With that, you suddenly felt a tongue graze right against your cunt. You shivered, gripping the bedsheets beneath you. The droplets from both of your bodies dripped onto the ground and bed.

“T…Toji..!” You whined, your legs squeezing his head as you felt his tongue lick between your folds. He was slow and sharp, one of his hands going down to flick your clit. Your toes curled and soft whimpers left your lips as his tongue reached deep between your folds.

You had to be control your voice—no matter how loud you wanted to be.

You cried out when his lips left your heat. His grip on your legs moved down to your waist and next thing you knew it, you were manhandled onto the bed. You were on your back, legs pushed up to where your knees reached your chin. The position was more comfortable than the one before.

Toji got between your legs and leaned over you, a sly smirk on his lips. “I never thought I’d ever be fucking Megumi’s babysitter. Most don’t make it after an hour.”

“Cause the house was awful..” You muttered.

You gasped when you felt a sharp tug at your hair. Toji smirked at you, obviously enjoying your cry of pain. He released your hair and you decided to keep your mouth shut.

“I was getting sick of having to hire a new babysitter every day—it’s good to know I won’t have to anymore.” You felt something rub against your pussy, slowly inching between your wet folds. “It’s a bonus you ended up being a good housewife.”

Crack!

Your mouth pulled open in a silent scream—back arched as Toji’s cock slammed right inside of you. It was painful, no doubt because he didn’t stretch you out for a cock that was so thick! It was stretching you, your cunt clamping down on it as you tried to get used to it.

The look on Toji’s face was of pure satisfaction. He was happy to be fucking such a tight wet cunt. Even more so it was yours. He didn’t wait long to start fucking into you, watching you come undone beneath him.

Your smaller body compared to his bigger form. Hands reaching up to claw at his back for some type of stability. The bed had broke one of its legs when he thrusted inside of you. You were sure it wouldn’t survive by how harsh his hips slapped against your ass, sending you up towards the headboard each time.

“I can’t really call you a slut if this is how your cunt feels. Were you one of those boys saving this,” he tugs lightly at your clit, earning a cry, “for someone special?”

You shook your head, moans and gasps leaving your lips as you tried to speak. It was so hard to speak that you didn’t even try, solely focusing on the cock stretching you full.

“Sorry to disappoint but this cunt belongs to me now.”

You didn’t tell him no. Because for some reason, you liked the sound of that.

As he continued fucking you, his hand rested down on your stomach as the other gripped your waist. You watched with hooded eyes as your continued crying and whimpering, your pussy clinching around his cock as you felt yourself reach your limit.

“You never answered me that time.” He leaned down close to you. “Do you like kids?”

You wanted to punch him for asking such a question during such a time but you simply nodded. “Yes…! Kids… ngh… cute…” you pitifully whimpered.

“Then Megumi deserves a sibling. Think you can give it to him?” He simply said. You blushed heavily at his words, mouth opening to ask what the fuck did he mean by that but he was now focused solely on fucking you.

Your hands scratched at his back as you arched yours, crying and moaning as his hips slammed into your ass. You weren’t sure if you really wanted to go through the whole ordeal of birth but just technically being claimed by Toji made your brain feel mushy.

It didn’t take long for you to cum. Your toes curled and your nails clawed at Toji’s back for purchase as your body shook with your orgasm. Toji didn’t let up, however, somehow going even faster. It was like he was using you like a toy, fucking your hole with reckless abandon as he chased his own release now.

He slammed his hips harsh, pushing his cock deep inside you before cumming. You whimpered, feeling the warm cum coat your insides. Cum seeped into the bedsheets as he pulled out, leaving your cunt to faintly clench around the missing feeling.

“You’re helping me save money. Don’t need to spend it on women when I got my housewife right here.” He patted your sore pussy. “If I knew fucking men would feel this good I would’ve done it earlier.”

You blushed. “I feel dirty..”

Toji simply laughed. “You are.” He grabbed your face, but much more gently than the times before and pressed a sloppy kiss onto your lips. “Now be a good boy and take a shower. I’ll join you soon.”

You bit your lip and mutely nodded as he got up from bed. With shaky legs, you slowly walked to the bathroom, feeling cum drip down your legs. You were sure some fell into the floor. God, you’d need to clean that layer. When you reached the bathroom and turned on the tub, you suddenly felt giddy.

Wow. You came here to babysit and suddenly you have a “boyfriend?”

Luck was on your side. You just wondered what it would be like dating someone like Toji.

6:30 a.m.

“T..Toji..!” You whispered, gripping the bedsheets beneath you. Toji was fucking into your already sore cunt. You were on your side with Toji behind you, his hand holding your leg up as his cock pumped into your pussy.

It’s been maybe four weeks since you got here. You haven’t gone home. Well, just once to get clothes since you couldn’t just stay in Toji’s clothes. Megumi was so happy that you were staying. Finally, something constant.

But you soon learned that Toji was a very horny man—he would constantly fuck you in the bathtub, living room, kitchen, and bedroom. It was always before he left for work and when he came back. You had gotten used to having your hole stuffed full of cum. It was getting tiring of cleaning it out.

You mentioned condoms… but that only resulted in him giving you continuous creampies until you apologized.

Toji finally cummed, once again coating your insides. He pulled and pressed a kiss onto your neck as he got up from the bed. He got dressed and turned to you.

“I’m going now. I want curry for dinner.”

That was all he said before leaving. It felt a little degrading, to be used and then told to make him dinner before he got back. But you still did it, no question asked.

You truly were a male housewife.

Definitely not what child you dreamed of being as an adult, but hey, things change.

At least the dick was good.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

First time writing deadbeatguro… how’d I do? Feel like I didn’t do him justice smh. But it was fun writing this, made it way too long but hey, plot just happened..

tag list: @the-ultimate-librarian @remdayz @chill-guy-but-cooler @tehyunnie @smellwell @rhetorical-conscience @nakedtoasterr @mello-life69 @iwishtobeacrow @kiiyoooo @tomoeroi @ofclyde @kaedezu

#x male smut #jjk x male reader #bottom male reader #uke male reader #jjk smut #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #toji smut #dilf toji #toji x male reader #mlm ns/fw #mlm nsft #sub male reader

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jo-com · 8 months ago

Note

Oscar but with a very dear-like girlfriend (she's very shy, skittish and very rare to see on social media because she avoids the cameras like the plague)

🩰 ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ ୨ৎ ➛ Bambi

Oscar Piastri x Fem!reader

Summary: Based of the request☝🏻

Genre: Fluff and a little bit of SMAU

Fc: Kathryn Bernardo

Note: there are some grammar errors and i am sorry if i just answered this request now, i was finishing some of my og works in my draft soo i hope you enjoyed this!!.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ➛ My Masterlist

─────── ─ ⊹⁺ 💋⋅˚₊𐙚 ─ ───────

The bustling city roared with excitement— the mix of music and chatters filled the lively streets. Within that, two friends were walking amongst the crowd when they suddenly spotted one particular driver that was walking at the side with a girl?

With nerves that fueled both their curiosity and joy, they slowly approached the couple with smiles that stretched across their faces.

One of them lightly tapping Oscar’s shoulder making the couple turn around to completely face the two. “Uhm hi, me and my friend saw you guys and were wondering to get a picture?”she spoke, some of her words came out stuttered.

Before answering, Oscar looked back at you— his eyes curling into questionable ones,”Is that alright with you my love?” He asked, his tone soft and gentle. Like he always have with you.

“Yeah baby it’s fine” you muttered, your voice barely audible, but was loud enough for him to hear.

Oscar knew how anxious and shy you get whenever there are others; it was a habit you developed when you were small that came with you throughout adulthood. Luckily you met a guy who was willingly patient for you to open up.

And you were forever grateful for that.

The two friends looked at awe at their relationship, their eyes shined with adoration, but their minds still processing the new found information.

It was never said or announced that Oscar had a girlfriend— she was also rarely seen in both the media and the paddock. So they were shock to see a girl that nestled close to his embrace.

Oscar coughed, getting the attention of the two, he smiled at them and answered back politely, “yeah sure, we can take a picture.”

The two girls squealed with happiness as they put out their phone and took one or two shots of pictures.

After that, the friends thanked them both and let them to enjoy the lively city.

…

Liked by 3,678 others

Randm_girlie OMFG JS MET THE OSCAR PIASTRI (I still can’t believe it)

Tagged; @M_Bff

View all the comments

Username1 WAIT WHO IS HE WITH

Username2 wth who is she!?!!

Username3 Does @Mclaren know abt this!

Username4 EWWW WTF

Username5 I’ve not seen her in the paddock

Randm_girlie CHILL GUYS, it’s his gf and she’s very pretty in person💕

Username6 ohh gross

Username7 js like u??

Username8 WAIT I JUST SAW HER INSTA

Username9 damn that fast?

Username8 It’s @Just.yn but it’s private

Username16 saw them once, they’re perfect

Username17 SHES NICE ASF AND GETS VERY SHY I LOVE HER

…

With that single picture— the two of you have been the talk of the social. People from his circle and friend group asked numerous times who you were and whether or not the rumors were true.

They were honestly begging for details.

“My baby is so famous”, Oscar joked, his hand sliding up to caress your cheeks.

You playfully rolled your eyes and pouted, “Not funny osc, you know how i hate attention.”

Oscar let out a few giggle and pinched your cheeks. “Too late baby, you’re just too adorable that people are so interested in you.”

“Should i be jealous?” He added, his face jokingly shifted into a shock.

You happily laughed back at his antics. The two of you sharing a laugh as you guys joked around some more.

…

Liked by Mclaren, Just.yn, Charles_leclerc and 4,789,701 others

Oscarpiastri Compilation of me and her (this is the closest you will get to seeing her pictures)

Tagged; @Just.yn

View all comments

Username10 SHES SO PRETTY WHAT

Username11 R U GATEKEEPING HER SIR??

Oscarpiastri yes she’s mine forever

Username12 CAN SHE BE MINE

Oscarpiastri uhm no.

Username13 Admin come get ur boy

Landonorris No wonder you don’t hangout with me anymore🙁

Oscarpiastri she’s way better ngl

Username14 BRUTAL😭

Username15 WAIT SHE KINDA FINE

Oscarpiastri KINDA??? Girl please she’s hella fine

McLaren We need to teach you some selfcontrol☺️

…

I hope i did it okay?? Idk it felt off🥹🥹

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getonite · 9 months ago

Text

something something heian sukuna + mindless touches blah blah — gn!reader

for such a man like sukuna, the king of curses, he's quite- "clingy" at times. he's touchy. specifically, when he's bored. when someone's talking to much, or when he's "patiently" waiting for uraume to be done, he has you.

he'd occupy his boredom with members of his harem prior to you, but for some reason, he's decided to make you stick to him like glue. hence, you sit right next to him in boring meetings and quiet halls, adorned in the finest fabrics, personally hand-picked by him.

for a large man like sukuna, he's busy body. especially when there are mediocre thoughts running in his head.

and strangly, his hand moves to you. mindlessly it seems. no matter who he's in front, one of his four hands slides to the back of your neck. his thick fingers run along the back of your neck. they press, sliding up the side before they gingerly wrap around your throat, a thumb playing with your bottom lip.

he massages your neck, not a thought in his movements as he does.

"lord sukuna?" you question in a soft whisper, wondering why hes suddenly so touchy. "hm?" he grunts, looking down at you.

"do you- need me to relieve you- or anything?" you mumble, fingers curled around the fabric covering you. sukuna blinks, all four of his eyes looking directly at you. "no, why?" you blink wondering if he's playing a game or seriously confused.

you gulp, feeling the resistence of his fingers. "well- this is the third time you've touched me like this without saying word, so..." you purse your lips, peering up at him curiously. a grunt leaves his lips and he retracts his hand from you.

"no, i don't need you to please me right now."

"hm?" you tilt your head, wondering what goes on in his head for the 15th time that day. "okay... you can still touch me, i don't have anything against it, i only wondered."

sukuna sighs, not saying a word. never in his life would he admit that he simply craved to touch you, it was a mindless decision.

"shush, just let me, will ya?"

I WROTE OMG :O i am struggling so damn hard omfg, this is kind of lame. this is more of writing training rn lmfao. im trying to finish this sebastian fic real quick.

#𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 .ᐟ #sukuna x reader #sukuna fluff #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna fluff #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna ryomen fluff #jjk x reader #jjk fluff

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solifloris · 6 months ago

Text

≡;-꒰ 𝐙𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒘𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒇𝒖𝒍 𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕

╰┈➤ ❝ zayne x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni

tags : pwp (with very little plot), softdom!zayne, reader feels a little low, kissing and making out, heavy petting, grinding/dry humping, marking, cuddle sex, comfort sex, soft and slow sex, mention of belly bulge, holding hands, vaginal sex (unprotected), creampie, slight cockwarming, praise, use of pet names "darling" "sweetheart". lmk if i missed any tags!

wc : 3.1k

an : i've been so...... very much....... in my zayne feels..... i don't usually write zayne bc he's so difficult for me to write but omfg 😭 i needed this for me LMAO

taglist : @spotted-salamander @darlingdummycassandra @milkandstarlight @thoupenguinman @valvinny @rafayelsheart @jellyroom2 @theanbitchless @hunters-association (SIGN UP HERE)

"Are you certain you can fall asleep like this?"

The question made you pause.

There was a slight shift in movement, the faint clicking sound of his glasses being set on his nightstand. And though you'd barely tilted your head back up to look at him, you felt an arm rest gently over your waist, subtly guiding you to cuddle closer against his chest. You knew, then, that the book he'd been reading had been set aside, as well.

You closed your eyes.

In this position, he held you securely against him, your ear pressed up against his chest to hear the steady thrum of his heartbeat.

"What d'you mean?" you murmured. Your voice was slightly muffled. "I'm okay, I told you I just wanted to be comfy... Why? Are you done reading?"

He didn't answer immediately, and it made you glance up.

His gaze was fond.

He took a moment—his thumb caressed your cheek, a warm gesture he knew worked to soothe you. It did exactly as he'd hoped, of course; your head lulled to the side, a content sigh leaving your lips. It was this that made the corners of his mouth twist up into a little smile.

"...Mm, it's enough for today," a soft chuckle fell from his lips. "But... it just feels as if something's different tonight."

This time, you felt his other hand trail over your back, moving in a soft, soothing rub.

Your gaze fixed on his.

His words stirred up a puddle of guilt, but it wasn't something you wanted to talk about.

"Something's... different? Zayne, I can assure you that I—"

"Please."

The excuse died on your lips.

The way he said it—such a simple word—was soft. Softer than usual. Enough so to get you to notice the way his eyes would search yours, that shade of hazel you'd always loved so dearly... The concern in his eyes was genuine, and you felt your breath catch in your throat.

"I... want to know what's been on your mind today. And it feels like you've been... thinking, quite a lot."

When he spoke again, you found that it was you who couldn't answer right away. And for your silence, you were met with another little smile, a chaste kiss placed into the crown of your head.

Zayne always had a way of compelling you to be more honest than you usually were.

You shook your head.

"M'just.... Not been feeling myself today, that's all," you said quietly.

Your eyes closed again, and you rest your head back down on his chest, finding comfort in the way his hand would start slowly massaging circles into your back.

"I see," he murmured. And there was something about the timbre in his voice that had you vocalizing your contentment with a little hum.

He didn't really say anything else.

You knew he wanted to, but this was just how he was—somehow he knew when you wanted to leave things as they were, and that his presence was, in this moment, simply enough.

You shifted to curl into him a little bit more, allowing your eyes to meet yet again.

"I don't want you to worry," you started.

"I know," he nodded.

"It's really just something trivial. It'll pass."

"...I know."

You smiled again, a little bit.

"I just... It feels like one of those days, you know? There's no real reason I've been feeling like this, sometimes it just happens, and..."

"And you don't want to concern me over it."

He finished it for you.

And this time, it was his turn to smile, his eyes settling into a soft gaze.

"I was simply... making sure," he murmured. A finger found its way beneath your chin, tilting it up a little, until his lips met yours in a kiss so gentle that it sent butterflies flurrying into your stomach. "If we're to sleep, I don't want you to go to bed upset."

"M'not upset..."

He chuckled a little, and you had to give him another ppout

"Really, I'm not!"

"I know."

He reached over to hold your thigh, gently guiding it to rest over his leg, before leaning in to kiss your forehead. You blinked. Trying to search his gaze would prove fruitless, but there was a hint of a tease that you could recognize in his tone.

"I believe you," he hummed, "but... would it be alright to hold you like this for a moment, anyway?"

Your eyes widened.

There was nothing too... much, about how close you were to him, certainly. Yet the more you looked at him, the more you could feel yourself drawing closer. You could only watch as his eyes closed, and he sighed, nuzzling his nose against yours.

"I'm not good with words." A shiver ran through your body as he leaned in to whisper into your ear, hot breath pricking at your skin. "But... If you don't like the person that you are today... then I would like to show you that I like her very much."

His arm slid beneath you to lock you into a tight embrace, pressing himself more insistently against you. His head dipped, lips attaching to your shoulder.

"Zayne..." you sucked in a breath as his teeth nipped at your skin.

The only reply you received was a soothing lap of his tongue against the mark he'd just made, and it was enough to draw out a quiet whine from you, raising your leg to wrap around his waist. The skirt of your nightgown rode up—it was near-immediate the way he reacted, then, a hand gliding down your back to gently grip at your soft flesh.

He smiled at your skin and pushed you slightly upwards. The erection poking against you was unmistakable.

"Z-Zayne!" you gasped, yet your hips moved nearly involuntarily, and he let out a slow breath at the instigated friction.

"Shhhh."

His lips ghosted over yours, hazel eyes peering into your own.

"Let me take care of you?"

It was a question, still. He would never do anything you weren't up for, and you knew that—there was something about it that made your heart flutter. Add to it the fact that there wasn't even a need for him to cater to you like this; you knew this was nothing but a temporary feeling of yours. It wasn't necessary for you to receive any more affection him than you'd gotten that day. Yet... here he was, willing to offer just that.

You felt him lean in forward for another kiss—still gentle, still soft, your eyes closing into the sensation.

It was nice, like this.

Truly, you didn't have any complaints—he was being so sweet with you, and now, of all times. How could you refuse?

"...M'kay," you murmured against him. Your arm wrapped around his neck, and you felt him smile.

"You know that I cherish you, sweetheart, right?" he sighed contentedly.

Again his lips found yours, his hand stroking the side of your arm in a comforting motion. And for a while, it continued just like that—having you pressed up against him, his hand slipping beneath your down to leave goosebumps across your skin. Just soft, light, gentle caresses, your lips moving in sync enough to bring your bodies into a slow rocking motion.

Otherwise quiet, it was the kisses and soft panting that echoed in the room, having your hands gliding up to thread through his hair. Zayne could only pull you close, closer than close, his own hand returning to rub circles into your skin before resting on the small of your back. Every so often he would give a light squeeze, allowing you to grind yourself onto him, eliciting soft gasps that he would only swallow back into his kisses.

When your eyes opened, hazy and half-lidded, you could faintly make out the glowing outline of his silhouette. His cheeks were flushed by this point—they no doubt mirrored yours. The dim lighting of the lamp on the nightstand did nothing less than paint a soothing, ethereal image before you.

"...I love you," you murmured.

You'd said it without thinking, but they weren't particularly words that felt foreign to you.

Zayne chuckled, and it seemed that your confession had earned you another kiss.

"I know. And I love you."

Quiet, shuffling motions had your gown and his robe both discarded, and you groaned as his lips trailed down over your body. His head dipped, tracing your every curve, peppering kisses wherever he went, his hand stroking lovingly at your skin.

You curled into him—wrapping your leg back over his waist, wanting to feel his warmth all over you. You could hear the soft moans emanating from his lips, so busy suckling at your skin and leaving proof of his love everywhere that he possibly could. The harsher nips blended soothingly with his gentle caresses, hands kneading at your flesh as if to distract you from the slight sting of his marking.

"Oh, Zayne..." you moaned, rutting your hips against his bulge once more in an attempt to bring the both of you back into that slow, rocking rhythm.

Gradually he trailed his lips back up your body, from the dip or your hips, to your navel, to the valley of your breasts. Another mark beneath your collarbone that had you gasping, before kissing up your neck to meet your lips once more.

You could feel it; the satisfied smile etched on his lips as he kissed you, and kissed you, and kissed you. He wasn't saying it with words, but you could feel it—every kiss meant I love you.

"Feel better?" he whispered. His breath tickled the side of your neck as he gripped your thigh and held you around him, rocking his hips into yours. But he didn't wait for you to reply before he reached over to push your panties to the side, running a finger through the wetness that had pooled.

"Mmnh..." Your eyes closed, your hips bucking at the direct contact.

A chuckle and a few more kisses peppering your face before he spoke, "Are we okay with this?"

His finger ran up over your slit another time, collecting your slick before circling your entrance patiently.

You bit your lip.

It was just like him to ask for your consent again, even though you'd already been grinding against each other like this, even if he could already feel how wet he had gotten you.

But...

"Can we just... Can I have you, instead?"

Your voice came out a little shy, but the directness of your request remained punctuated by the way your hand drifted down to palm him through his boxers.

There was a certain surge of pride you felt, knowing your actions had gotten him this hard, had caused the shaky breath that he released, unable to stop his hips from jerking against you. In response to you, again your lips were captured into a kiss—and though he was keen on keeping the gentle atmosphere, there was a hint of desperation in the way his lips moved against yours.

"Mmm," he moaned quietly into you, hands making quick motions to free himself from the confines of his boxers.

You couldn't see it, too lost in the kiss, hands sliding up his body to cup his face for more of it—the sounds of lips smacking together became louder, more insistent, more heated.

But you felt it.

A hand on your ass, rubbing motions to keep your folds parted for him as the tip of his cock dipped teasingly into you. His legs slid against yours with the shallow thrusts he would give you, allowing you to get used to the feeling. And it was a stretch, nonetheless—no matter how many times you'd felt him inside you, you couldn't help but moan into the kiss, patiently waiting for him to ease himself in.

Your hand moved down to grip his back, almost hoisting yourself over him to spread your legs a little wider. "Mmh, Z-Zayne..."

You were panting, eyes steady on his, mouth slightly open. And with every thrust he made, he slid further and further into you, causing your breath to hitch.

"Does it feel good, sweetheart?" He brushed a few strands away from your face, placing soft kisses all over your face yet again. "I love you. You feel wonderful, darling."

A quiet moan left your lips as he squeezed your ass up once more, allowing you to take him in.

And it was a moment before either of you moved.

Quiet, hushed huffs of breath as you clenched around him, eyes heedy with desire with how closely you focused on the feeling of being full again. And his own gaze remained fixed upon yours. A hand rest on your cheek, thumbing at your skin, eyes so fondly looking into yours that you could melt.

There was no other place you could feel so loved than with him.

"Look at you," he murmured. "Darling, you look wonderful."

Your heart swelled, enough to have you drawing in a sharp breath.

It was so silly to think that this all started on the slightest inkling he had that you weren't feeling your best. And yet, he would never fail to make you feel loved. Whether you asked for it, or you didn't—he had his way of making sure you didn't feel unloved.

And it meant so much to you.

With a smile, your hips began to rock, and you cherished the groan that fell from his lips.

"You look wonderful, too, Zayne," you whispered back.

His head buried into your neck as you cradled him, his own hips moving in time with yours. Every languid pump of his cock pushed him deeper into you, bodies pressed so impossibly close that you could feel the head radiating off of the both of you. Flushed and heedy, you rolled against each other in a sensual waltz—it was the lamp on your bedside table that had your shadows dancing across the wall.

Gasps and pants permeated the air.

Slow, and deep, and steady... the slick sounds of your sex would mix in with the hushed moans that would slip from your lips, your vision already blurry in the haze of how deep he would fuck into you. The burn of his length dragging inside you was elating. You could feel each throb of his pulse inside you, his hand sliding slowly over your thigh, massaging your flesh.

"Zayne..." you breathed, "Zayne."

It was all you could say.

"A-ah... Ah~ Zayne..."

Muffled against your skin, his lips had resumed its attack on your neck, littering bruises that you knew you'd have trouble covering up the next morning. He would leave your skin with red marks all over it, a line of love bites from your nape up to your jawline—

But he wasn't rushing.

It was tender; affectionate, the way he made love to you.

You felt it.

He kept up the pace. Just slow, easy fucking motions as his lips latched back into yours. And everytime he sunk into you, you could feel your eyes roll back into your head, every listless thrust a reminder of how you could feel every inch of him inside you.

"Sweetheart," he whispered against your lips, "you're so good for me..."

It was only then that he made the subtle shift, rolling you onto your back and pressing his body onto yours. Your legs wrapped fully around his waist, and you could feel his weight push down on you, allowing him to sink even deeper and causing your eyes to widen with a gasp.

"Zayne!"

This time his hand found yours, fingers intertwining. With another kiss to your forehead, you felt him slide your hand over your body, pressing lightly into your lower abdomen enough to have your body arching into him.

"I'm right there, sweetheart," he murmured.

You could feel the faint outline of his cock moving in and out of you. He was pressing so deep into you that your head threw back, lifting your hips into him for more. Moans swallowed into more of his kisses, the room echoed with that soft sound of skin slapping against skin with a quiet, rhythmic, pap, pap, pap.

Your hands clawed at his back, his pace stuttering almost immediately at the sting from your nails. You could have delighted at the muffled curse he moaned into you, hips pressing you deeper into the mattress.

He detached himself from your lips, already red and swollen, and his breath fanned over your face. With his forehead resting against yours, you could clearly see that mixture of lust, and desire, and adoration swimming in the depth of his eyes—it made your heart jump.

His thrusts began to pick up the pace slightly, eliciting soft, staccato pants from you. He reached over to take your hands into his, pressing them up against the pillows and curling his fingers into you.

"Going to cum..." he whispered, a word of warning that had you nodding your head.

"Okay," you breathed. "Inside."

His eyes widened.

It was easy for you to use that opportunity to lock your legs around his waist, paying back the marks he'd left on your body by dipping your head to latch onto his neck.

With a gutteral groan, you felt it—hot streams of his cum painting your insides, the pulse of his cock a delight that sent you trembling over your own high. Moans muffled against your skin, you clung to him tightly, hands gripping his until your knuckles nearly turned white.

"Haah... haah... D-darling, you're..."

He panted into your ear, pulling the both of you back onto your sides as he rode you through your orgasm.

Your chest heaved, your vision blurry. Again you found your hand resting on his cheek, pulling your gazes up to meet each other.

"Zayne..." you whispered, trying to catch your breath.

Slowly, he churned the juices inside you, the wet noises nearly turning your face even more flushed than it had been.

Another kiss... and another, and another.

"Tired?" he murmured.

Still his hils continued to rock gently against yours, lighter, shallower thrusts as if to soothe you.

Your eyes fluttered closed.

"...Mhm."

You felt an arm wrap around you, bringing you back into that embrace of his that you loved so dearly.

"Feel better?"

You smiled.

"Mhm."

This time, he placed a kiss onto the top of his head, hips stilling inside you as he held you close.

"Good," he nuzzled into you. "Go to sleep, sweetheart. I'll clean you up after a moment."

His soft strokes of your hair were enough to lull you to sleep.

The last thing, then, you heard, was a small, quiet mumble:

"I love you."

© rose-tinted-kalopsia. all rights reserved. do not: steal, copy, repost, reupload, modify, or claim any of my works as your own, regardless of credit given. absolutely do not use my works for AI training and other related purposes.

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reidmarieprentiss · 4 months ago

Text

Languages of Love

Summary: Based on this request! Spencer meets you, someone who uses a language he can't use, and is determined to learn your language and impress you.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x deaf!fem!reader

Category: fluff

Warnings/Includes: sign language

Word count: 4.1k

a/n: this was adorable omfg i can totally see spencer needing to learn a new language because he meets a beautiful person

main masterlist

You were standing in line, waiting to order your coffee, when the person ahead of you suddenly turned around with a confused expression. You blinked, tilting your head slightly in question, trying to understand what their look meant, only to realize they weren't focused on you—they were looking at something behind you.

Curious, you turned around to see what had caught their attention. Standing off to the side were two people who looked very official—a man and a woman, both watching you expectantly. The sight puzzled you, and your brow furrowed as you tried to make sense of their presence.

You tilted your head again, a silent question in your eyes, wondering why they seemed to be addressing you. Before you could react further, the man began to speak, but his words spilled out too quickly, and his lips moved in a blur—far too fast for you to read.

Feeling a bit flustered but wanting to clear up the confusion, you lifted your hands and signed, “I’m sorry, I’m deaf.” Your movements were calm but clear, hoping they would understand.

The woman’s eyes followed your hands carefully, and after a brief pause of comprehension, she responded in sign language, though her motions were a bit awkward and unsure. “I’m sorry,” she signed, her hands slightly stiff, “can I talk to you?”

You nodded, though a hint of hesitation clouded your eyes. You motioned towards the counter, your hand forming the sign for "coffee" as you asked, “Coffee?” A small, polite smile spread across the woman’s face, and she nodded while signing back, “Yes, please.”

Turning back to the barista, you quickly ordered two coffees, keeping your movements efficient, your eyes flitting back occasionally to the two strangers. After a few moments, you balanced the cups in your hands and followed the man and woman to a nearby table, your mind racing with questions about who they were and why they wanted to talk to you.

You all sat down together, the tension of the unknown hanging over the table like a thick cloud. The man, looking slightly flushed—embarrassment, you observed—pulled a notebook from his pocket. He scribbled across the page quickly, his eyes darting up to you every so often as though gauging your reaction. After a moment, he flipped the notebook around, pushing it across the table for you to read:

We are with the FBI. We’re canvassing this area as a potential suspect has been spotted coming to this café. Can we ask you some questions?

Your eyes scanned the note, the words sinking in like stones as your heartbeat quickened. FBI? Suspect? You looked up at the two agents, your pulse in your ears, and nodded, your hand lifting instinctively to sign, “Yes.”

The two agents introduced themselves, the man as Dr. Spencer Reid and the woman as Dr. Alex Blake. You nodded at each name, trying to maintain your composure despite the underlying nerves. Once introductions were made, they dove right into their questions—simple, straightforward things: How often did you come to this café? Had you seen anyone suspicious lately? Any strange behavior that stood out to you?

As you answered each question in turn, you couldn’t help but notice Dr. Reid’s frustration. It became apparent how much he wished he knew more sign language, his brow furrowing whenever he struggled to understand, his hands occasionally twitching as though wishing to communicate properly. He would look to Dr. Blake for support each time you signed a response, and you found his earnestness almost endearing, this quiet desperation to make sure you felt understood.

Dr. Blake, on the other hand, impressed you with her sign language skills. Although her movements were not perfectly fluid, her recall was solid, and she managed to keep up with you almost effortlessly. She took the lead in asking follow-up questions, her hands moving with a careful confidence that showed she had practiced this before. Every now and then, you’d catch a glimpse of Dr. Reid glancing between you and Dr. Blake, clearly trying to learn and understand, his eyes darting back and forth with sharp focus.

It made you smile—just a small quirk of your lips—as you could tell he was putting in genuine effort, and you appreciated it more than you could say. In a way, it softened the situation, making it feel less like an interrogation and more like a casual chat, albeit with an important undertone.

After you’d shared everything you could think of, Dr. Reid and Dr. Blake nodded appreciatively. They both signed "thank you," and while Dr. Blake’s movements were confident, Dr. Reid's were hesitant and slow, his brow furrowing as he tried to get it right. He turned to Alex, his voice tinged with a shy curiosity. “Alex, can you show me how to say ‘thank you for your time’?”

A grin spread across Dr. Blake's face as she demonstrated the sign slowly, her movements exaggerated so he could easily follow along. Dr. Reid focused intently, copying her motions with a nervous determination. After a couple of attempts, he finally got it, his face lighting up with a small, triumphant smile as he turned to you. “Thank you for your time,” he signed, a bit clumsily but with sincerity in every gesture.

You couldn't help but giggle softly, charmed by his effort, and you responded with a bright smile, your hand moving fluidly as you signed back, “Thank you.” There was something warm and genuine about the exchange, the simple kindness in their attention to making sure they communicated with you as best as they could. You all signed your goodbyes, your hands dancing through the familiar gestures, and then you turned to leave, ready to head back to your day.

But before you could take more than a step away, you felt a gentle touch on your shoulder. Surprised, you turned around, your eyes widening slightly until they landed on Dr. Reid. You couldn't help but smile as he stood there, his expression a mixture of hopefulness and uncertainty. He hesitated for just a moment before raising his hand to his ear and mouth, mimicking the universal “phone” gesture. It was clear he didn’t know the proper sign, but his eagerness was adorable, and you found yourself giggling again, nodding to show you understood.

Reaching into your bag, you pulled out your phone and handed it over to him. He accepted it with a small, bashful smile, quickly typing his number into your contacts before handing the phone back to you. As you looked at the screen, your eyes danced with teasing amusement. You saved the number and immediately sent him a text, letting him see that now he had your number, too.

Spencer’s eyes met yours as his phone vibrated in his pocket, and he fished it out to see your message, his cheeks tinting slightly pink. You waved, your hand fluttering playfully, and then turned to walk away, glancing back just once to catch a final glimpse of his shy, boyish smile before you disappeared into the crowd.

When you finally got home, you kicked off your shoes, dropped your bag by the door, and flopped down onto the couch with a sigh of relief. It had been an odd day—running into two FBI agents at your favorite café was definitely not part of the plan—but it was intriguing.

Your phone buzzed as you relaxed into the cushions, and you quickly fished it out of your pocket, your eyes lighting up when you saw the message. It was from Spencer Reid, and just seeing his name brought a grin to your face. You opened the text, your smile widening as you read his polite and thoughtful words.

Hello, this is Dr. Spencer Reid. I did not know how to sign this, but I wanted to give you my number in case you thought of any additional information or had any questions. I hope I did not make you uncomfortable.

You couldn't help but let out a soft laugh, amused by how proper and formal he was, even over text. His thoughtfulness shone through every word, the way he worried if he’d made you uncomfortable, and the cautious professionalism in offering his number just in case. It was sweet, and it made your heart warm a little.

You typed back quickly, fingers flying over the keyboard as you smiled to yourself, deciding to add a hint of playful teasing to your response.

Hi! You did not make me uncomfortable at all, you’re sweet. Although, I am a little disappointed you only gave me your number for professional reasons.

You hit send, the message whooshing off into cyberspace, and sat back with a satisfied little grin on your face. You wondered how he might respond—would he be flustered? Amused? Whatever the answer, you had a feeling that this wouldn’t be the last you’d hear from Dr. Spencer Reid.

—

Spencer couldn’t help the small smile that spread across his face as he read your message, his eyes lingering over your words. He tucked his phone back into his pocket, the warmth of the exchange settling comfortably in his chest. It wasn’t often that someone teased him so lightly, so playfully. He liked it—more than he expected to.

Alex caught the change in his demeanor instantly, narrowing her eyes with a teasing grin. "What was that?" she asked, her tone playful and prodding as she tilted her head towards him. "You seem... unusually cheerful for an investigation."

Spencer cleared his throat, doing his best to mask his smile, though he was fairly certain he failed miserably. "Hmm? Oh, nothing," he replied casually, trying to shrug it off as if it was no big deal. But the secret smile that tugged at his lips betrayed his nonchalance, and Alex could see right through it.

Alex’s eyebrow arched, a playful glimmer in her eyes as she observed Spencer's sudden burst of enthusiasm. She shook her head with a soft laugh, her amusement evident. But rather than dive into teasing him more, she let it slide, instead leaning back against the wall, folding her arms comfortably.

Spencer, eager to steer the conversation away from the curious sparkle in her eyes, tilted his head. “When did you learn sign language?” he asked, genuinely curious. “I didn’t know you knew so much.”

Alex’s expression softened, the laughter fading into a more thoughtful smile. “A long time ago, actually,” she replied. “I took a linguistics course in grad school, and one of the areas we studied was American Sign Language. I found it fascinating—how rich and expressive it is. A completely visual language. So I kept learning, practiced with some Deaf friends. You know how it is—you start learning something new, and it just sticks.”

She paused for a moment, a fondness in her voice as she reflected on the skill she’d picked up so many years ago. “I haven’t had many opportunities to use it recently, though, so I was a bit rusty today. But I’m glad it came in handy.” She gave a small shrug as if it was no big deal, but Spencer could tell how much it meant to her to be able to communicate with you effectively.

“I’m impressed,” Spencer said earnestly. “It’s a beautiful language. I just wish I knew more of it. You made it look so easy today.”

Alex chuckled lightly, shaking her head. “Don’t worry, Spencer. You did fine. And besides, looks like you might have an excuse to practice now.” She shot him a knowing glance, and Spencer’s cheeks turned slightly pink as he glanced away, a small, bashful smile playing on his lips.

When Spencer returned home that night, his first instinct was to reach into his bag and pull out the book on American Sign Language he had impulsively picked up on his way home from the library. He settled down in his favorite chair, the worn fabric molding comfortably around him as he cracked open the first few pages. The textbook felt heavy in his hands, but the thrill of learning something new made his pulse quicken, the familiar rush of excitement he always felt when diving into a new subject.

He scanned the table of contents, eyes darting over the list of basics—alphabet, numbers, common phrases. His fingers itched to start signing immediately, but he forced himself to go slowly, knowing he’d need to cover the fundamentals before he could even think of diving into conversational fluency. Spencer read carefully, mouthing the words as he memorized the signs, occasionally raising a hand to test out the motions, his fingers forming the letters of the ASL alphabet with care.

Of course, he told himself, this sudden drive to learn had nothing to do with you. The way you had smiled so brightly when he’d attempted to sign, the warmth in your eyes as you’d encouraged his clumsy attempts—that had nothing to do with this. He’d probably never run into you again anyway, right? It was simply a practical skill, he reasoned, one that could serve him well in the field, and it was important to be able to communicate with anyone he might meet.

But as Spencer flipped through the pages, trying to imprint each sign in his memory, he couldn't ignore the flutter in his chest, the small hope that maybe, just maybe, he would see you again. And when that day came, he wanted to impress you—he wanted to sign your language, seamlessly and naturally, so you’d never feel that gap between spoken and signed words again. Deep down, Spencer knew that every sign he learned was a step closer to reaching out to you, to breaking the barrier that had momentarily stood between you both.

So he stayed up late that night, practicing the signs over and over, his fingers moving clumsily at first, but gradually gaining confidence. He covered the basics—the alphabet, greetings, simple phrases like “How are you?” and “Thank you.” And as he signed each one, his thoughts returned to the cafe, to the way you’d laughed so easily, the gentle curve of your hands as you’d signed back to him, your eyes filled with light.

—

"Hey, Alex," Spencer said as he slid up to the side of her desk, trying to sound casual, though the eagerness in his voice made it obvious he was anything but. His fingers tapped lightly against the edge of her desk, his eyes flickering between the book of ASL phrases he'd brought with him and Alex, who was typing away at her computer.

She glanced up, raising an eyebrow with an amused smirk. “Sure, Spencer,” she replied, leaning back in her chair. “Any particular reason you suddenly want to practice?” The corner of her mouth twitched upward knowingly, the hint of a teasing smile spreading across her face.

Spencer’s cheeks flushed slightly, and he fumbled to keep the book tucked under his arm. “Uh, no,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant, though it came off a bit forced. “I mean, yes, but not really. It’s just, you know, important to be able to communicate in different ways. In case we... ever need it again for a case, or something like that.” He shrugged, but the movement was stiff, and Alex could see right through his excuses.

“Mm-hmm,” she hummed, clearly not buying his half-hearted explanation. “Or something. And this doesn’t have anything to do with the woman we spoke to at the café?” Alex roughly signed while she spoke, just to throw a little more teasing into the mix.

Spencer gave a small, sheepish grin, one hand nervously brushing through his hair. “Well,” he admitted, his eyes darting to the side, “I guess it couldn’t hurt... to be more prepared. In case we see her again.” He paused before adding quickly, “Or anyone else who signs, of course.”

Alex chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Of course,” she said, still signing. “Alright, let's practice then. I could use the refresher myself.” She gestured for him to sit, setting aside her work, clearly delighted by this turn of events.

Spencer let out a small sigh of relief, and as he pulled up a chair beside her, he opened the book to the first page they would go over together. And as they began signing basic greetings back and forth, Spencer felt the nerves start to melt away, replaced by a renewed excitement. He knew that with every word he learned, he was one step closer to being able to speak directly to you, without stumbling or awkwardness—just him, hoping to meet you at your level.

—

It was a normal Wednesday morning, and as always, you found yourself waiting in line at your favorite coffee shop. This midweek pick-me-up was one of your cherished routines—a small way to break up the workweek and treat yourself before the daily grind. You'd been coming here for years, long enough that the staff knew your face and your order by heart, and they had long since adapted to your way of communicating. It always made the mornings smooth, familiar, and comforting.

When it was finally your turn, you stepped up to the counter, ready to place your usual order. The person in front of you had just moved to the side, waiting for their name to be called, and you reached into your bag to grab your wallet. But before you could even open it, you felt a gentle touch on your arm—enough to make you pause but soft enough not to startle. Confused, you turned around, and a smile broke across your face when you saw who it was.

There, standing right behind you, was the tall, familiar figure of Dr. Spencer Reid. His expression was open, friendly, his eyes crinkling slightly as he waved hello. You gave a small wave back, surprised and happy to see him again. But before you could say anything, his hands moved up, and he began signing, a little slowly but clearly: “I will pay.”

Your eyes widened in delighted surprise, and you couldn’t help the massive, toothy grin that spread across your face. You nodded, not even trying to hide your happiness, and as Spencer pulled out his billfold, you watched him confidently step up to the counter, ordering another drink for himself.

As the barista rang up the total and handed back his change, you both made your way to the other side of the counter, where the barista would place your drinks once they were ready. Your smile was still stretched ear to ear, and as soon as you were both settled, you signed enthusiastically, “Thank you.” You put your whole heart into the sign, hoping to convey just how much you appreciated the gesture.

Spencer’s eyes lit up at your reaction, and though he was still learning, he carefully signed back, “You’re welcome.” He felt a swell of pride, not just because he'd gotten the sign right, but because it had earned him that big, radiant smile from you again—the one that made him feel like he'd just done something really, really right.

As you both waited for your drinks to be called, you found yourself eager to know more about him, about why he was here, and whether this coffee outing was as coincidental as it seemed.

With coffees in hand, Spencer gestured toward an open two-person table, and you both made your way over. The café was abuzz with the usual mid-morning activity—baristas calling out names, the hiss of espresso machines, and the chatter of other customers—but right now, your focus was entirely on the man sitting across from you.

Once you were both seated, you set down your coffee and looked at him with a smile, your hands moving slowly, deliberately, as you signed, “How are you?”

Spencer's eyes lit up as he caught every sign. He felt a wave of excitement that he actually understood, and you could see how grateful he was that you had signed clearly and at a pace he could follow. He straightened up slightly, lifting his hands to respond, his movements a bit stiff but determined. “Good,” he signed, and then quickly followed up with, “And you?”

Your smile softened as you signed back, “Better now.” You made sure to sign gently, your hands moving with an easy grace, knowing that he was still learning. But Spencer’s expression immediately changed—he was concentrating, trying to decipher the exact meaning behind your words, a look of curiosity and a touch of self-doubt clouding his eyes. It was clear he was trying to figure out if you meant "better now" as in "better today" or "better in this moment."

The slight frustration on his face was endearing, and you watched as he quickly pulled out a pen and notebook from his bag, his fingers fumbling slightly in his hurry to communicate clearly. He scribbled a quick note, and then turned it to you, the question neatly written out in his careful handwriting:

“Do you mean ‘now’ or ‘today’?”

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you. It was a fair question—ASL could be nuanced, and for a new learner, the subtle differences in meaning could be confusing. You reached out to take the pen from his hand, your fingers brushing against his briefly, causing a light jolt of surprise for both of you. Spencer’s eyes flickered to your hand before looking back up at you, his cheeks tinged pink.

You wrote carefully, making sure the message was clear: “Now :)”

When you passed the notebook back to him, Spencer read the word with a growing smile, feeling a sense of relief and happiness that you were, in fact, "better now"—because of this moment you were sharing together. He looked up at you with an almost shy grin, his eyes meeting yours with that same bright sincerity. And as you both sat there, sipping your coffee and smiling across the table, it felt like you had all the time in the world to learn each other's languages, one small step at a time.

Spencer set his coffee cup down on the table with a look of pure determination etched on his face. He met your eyes with an earnestness that made your heart skip a beat, and he began to stumble through a series of signs, his fingers moving with deliberate care. You could see how hard he was concentrating, his brow furrowed slightly as he tried to recall everything he'd studied, but it was clear that while his mind might know the signs, his hands were having a little more trouble putting them together smoothly.

His first sign came out awkwardly—he intended to sign "will," but you understood it as "future." You tilted your head slightly, a puzzled smile tugging at your lips as you tried to understand. Spencer, not realizing the mistake, nervously pressed on, clearly determined to get his message across. He paused for a moment, gathering his courage, and then signed "you," mouthing the word as he did.

Your grin widened as you watched him, still a little confused by the context but so endeared by his effort. His eyes flickered up to yours, gauging your reaction, and you nodded in encouragement, waiting to see what he'd say next.

Spencer's fingers moved again, a little clumsier this time. "Go," he signed, and then followed it with "date." He paused, took a deep breath, and then finally added, “with me,” his eyes never leaving yours, as if afraid to miss your reaction. It was such a sweet attempt that you couldn’t help but smile brightly, warmth blooming in your chest as you realized what he was asking.

You quickly pieced together his intended message: he wanted to know if you would go on a date with him. Technically, Spencer should have signed "will" at the end, to clarify the question—since in ASL, that would have helped avoid any confusion about tense—but you didn’t care about the technicality. The effort he’d put into learning, and his shy, hopeful expression, meant so much more than getting the grammar perfect.

Nodding eagerly, you signed back “Yes” with enthusiasm, your hand moving quickly and brightly as your eyes locked with his. Spencer’s face broke into a relieved, overjoyed smile, his entire expression lighting up in a way that made you want to laugh with delight.

And just like that, over two cups of coffee and a few imperfect signs, you found yourself agreeing to a date with Dr. Spencer Reid—the handsome, sweet, determined FBI agent who was willing to learn an entirely new language just to speak with you.

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elliezlils11utt · 4 months ago

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🦇- KINKTOBER DAY 5: BONDAGE (A.A) -🩸

a/n: MEAN!ABBY SAVE ME OMFG!!

summary: abby comes home pissed after a bad day at work. but don’t worry, your there for her to use.

contents: KINKTOBER, mean!abby, dom!abby, bondage, sub!reader. ceo!abby. 💯

~~~~

abby had just gotten home from work. she seems pent up. clearly she had a bad day and was not ready to deal with your attitude.

“abby?” you question when she pushes past you as she walks into your shared apartment. you watch her pace for a while. clearly fuming. she ignores you completely, her hands rubbing on her mouth. you plop down on bed, observing her.

“turn around.” she says sternly.

“w-what?”

“turn around.” she growls.

not wanting to upset her more you do as she says. you sit on your knees, your feet pressed to your butt, facing away from your seemingly pissed girlfriend. u hear her feet stomp towards you, then the metal clanking of her belt buckle. all at once your pushed down face first into the bed. your arms restrained with her belt.

“abs?”

“i had a bad day. just let me have you, yeah?”

her bad days are what you crave. when shes pent up and angry she fucks you so good. your belly flat on the bed now, hands tied behind your back. and in a second so are your ankles. tied with what? who knows. feels like rope? you let your mind wonder for 2 seconds and all the sudden you cant move. your limbs restricted completely with tight knots. when shes finished her handy work she flips you onto your back. you whine as she looks down on your with her lustful eyes.

“so desperate already? such a little slut for me, no?”

again you whine, pleading for her with your eyes.

“yeah, you are. fucking pathetic” she chuckles.

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buecketsnbueckets · 2 months ago

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pretty on camera | P.B

summary: you, an upcoming actress, admit to your little crush on the rising in popularity basketball star, paige bueckers, in an interview. what you didn’t expect was for people to care that much about your confession but it might just work in your favor.

pairing: actress!reader x paige bueckers

contains: sweetheart!reader, reader’s sexuality is not mentioned so open to all wlw, rachel zegler is reader’s bestfriend (she’s not the fc this is open to EVERYONE! i just love that woman to death), fluff & flirting!

a/n: hi! this is my first post about paige so if you guys like this and want more of actress reader lmk :), ALSO my inbox is open for different suggestions for oneshots as well <3 MERRY CHRISTMAS EVE & HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!!

“Okay, everything’s all set up. We’re ready when you are.”

Your manager, Bella, instructs as you situate yourself in the chair that was given to you. Bright lights shone on your neatly pampered face, a boom mic right above the big camera lens that was aimed to your upper half. You nod with a kind smile, clearing your throat and trying not to ruin the position your hair was in that your wonderful hair stylist had done. Once you get the okay that the camera was rolling, you relax a bit.

You introduce yourself to the camera, motioning to the Teen Vogue box right next to you.

“I’m here with Teen Vogue answering your guys’ nosy questions that you sent in about my life and my roles.”

You beam as you reach into the red box, humming a tune to yourself before pulling out the first question on the strip of paper.

“First question; what has been your favorite role since you started your journey in acting?” You read off the ink on the paper, thinking to yourself with a small smile. “I think my favorite so far has been playing Brittany in Bottoms last year. Camp-y, stupid, fun movies are so entertaining to me and I was so excited when I got the call from Emma telling me I got it. Everyone was so incredibly nice and welcoming.”

You reach for another question, unfolding the piece of paper to reveal the next question for you. Your eyes widen at the first question, looking up at the camera with a chuckle.

“Okay so the next question is who is your current or past celebrity crush. Hm.”

You think to yourself for a moment before glancing over at Bella with raised eyebrows. The crew seems to chuckle at your stuck position already. You weren’t sure if you were allowed to say who you were first thinking of. Bella mouthed her name to you and you nod, heat already flooding your cheeks. Bella, seeming reluctant, nodded as permission to say the blonde’s name.

You cover your mouth with a hand and shake your head, letting out a long sigh.

“I don’t know if she’s considered a celebrity but,” you pause to purse your lips, puffing out a breath of hair. “Paige Bueckers. I also don’t want to hear shit in my comments or dm’s about it. I will block all of you.”

And oh, did you hear shit about it.

After that little exposing question on Teen Vogue, you were flooded with edits already of the two of you with clips from your few films you’ve been in and Paige’s games and TikToks. It had not even been a whole week since that interview was posted. Your best friend, Rachel, started spamming you nonstop with these edits with taunts and teasing.

You scoured through the comments, shocked at what people were saying.

‘pls never her get media training.’

‘wait lowk they’d be cute😝’

‘she’s gonna block us ALL guys omfg😭😭😭’

You really didn’t think you shared a fan base with a rising basketball player from a college in Connecticut but here you were. Rachel begged you to come over to hers so you could gossip about it the second your last interview was over. You, missing the comfort of normalcy, agreed immediately.

So after bidding the interviewer, crew, and Bella farewell, you got picked up by Rachel at the studio who was in sweats and a hoodie. She already had a cup of your favorite smoothie with a cheeky grin.

“Hey lover girl,” she leaned against her car, hand over her chest with an exasperated sigh as she handed you the smoothie.

“Shut up. Stop.” You already feel your face heating up at her words.

She laughed softly as she lightly kicked your ankle, brows raising at you.

“What? I’m sorry, is Mrs.Bueckers better?”

“Seriously, it's not funny.”

Rachel merely laughed louder some more at your flushed state, shaking her head. She unlocks her car as you hurriedly tug open the door. You settle into the seat as you take a long sip of the smoothie with a huff.

“I can’t believe you actually said that she was your celebrity crush,” your best friend hopped in the car as her laughter died down. “I don’t know how you didn’t see this coming.”

Truth be told, she was 100% right. You don’t know what the hell you were thinking.

“I didn’t think her fans would care about me of all people, you know?”

Rachel scoffs and shakes her head as she turns on the engine. “Whatever. You’re hot, gay and her age. I would’ve been more surprised if her fans didn’t freak out.”

You nod as you take a long sip from your smoothie, sighing out when your phone dings. You ignore it for now as you relax in Rachel’s front seat, asking her to please wake you up when you get to her place. You two talk about how Rachel’s birthday was coming up in a week and how you both wanted to go out just with your friends.

When you finally arrive at Rachel’s apartment, you finally check your cellphone to see a familiar name on your screen. Your heart drops at the sight, a wave of mortification falling over you.

paigebueckers | You have a crush on me?

paigebueckers followed yourusername

“Wait, no, Rach,” you reach for her arm as she's tossing her keys in a bowl by the front door. “She messaged me and followed me. I’ll kill myself right now.”

Rachel covers her mouth, words muffled but clear to you. “No. You’re kidding.”

“What the actual fuck? What do I say to that? This is so humiliating,” you groan as you cover your tired eyes with your free palm that wasn’t holding your phone.

In the blink of an eye, Rachel snatched your phone at lightning speed from your grasp, giggling as she ran more into her apartment. You took off after her, shouting ‘no’ as you knew exactly what she was planning on doing.

“You said you don’t know what to say so I’ll do it for you,” your best friend stated simply, shrugging her shoulders once she was able to flop onto her cozy couch.

She held her phone up in the air as her fingers hovered over the keyboard on your screen. You climb over her body to try and snatch it from her but she keeps moving out of the way.

“I’m gonna kick you,” you threaten her as you huff, pausing your attempts at fighting against her.

“Come on. Seriously. There’s no harm in texting her.”

As you settle back into the couch, you think about it for a moment. What is the harm? You reach over Rachel’s body to grab your phone back, huffing as you think about how to respond to that.

yourusername | oh god i am so sorry. this is so embarrassing.

paigebueckers | Nah there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I’m honored to be your ‘celebrity’ crush 😎

yourusername | i seriously never thought you would see that video but i guess our both of our supporters desperately wanted you to see it

paigebueckers | So what is it about me hmm?

yourusername | that crush just evaporated im ngl to you ‼️

paigebueckers | Alr Alr I’ll stop, pretty girl

yourusername | thank u. spare me pls ://

paigebueckers hearted your message

paigebueckers | Yk I’ve seen a few of your movies. I just didn’t realize it was you. You’re insanely talented btw

yourusername hearted paigebueckers message

yourusername | stop omg which ones? and thank you so much! <3

paigebueckers | Uhh the new Suicide Squad movie and Bodies Bodies Bodies. No problem!

yourusername | those are some of my favorites so i’m so glad you enjoyed them :)

“Okay when I said to text her back I didn’t mean only text her right now,” Rachel’s voice interrupted your furious typing.

You blush at her confrontation, clicking off your phone and setting it on the cushion next to you. “Sorry, Rach. She’s actually pretty chill. She seems…nice.”

“Next thing you’ll know she’ll be flying out to L.A to come and see you,” Rachel kids as she turns on her living room TV.

You didn’t say anything to that as you wouldn’t be completely opposed to it. You still had that lingering crush; that doesn’t just disappear overnight or within the first ten minutes you’ve been talking to her. Before you go lock in and focus on spending your downtime with your best friend, you check your phone one more time.

paigebueckers | Oh, I fs did. I was pretty focused everytime you were on screen, gorgeous

paigebueckers | I got practice rn but I’ll text you in a bit? 💗

yourusername | flirt but i believe you :)

yourusername | have fun at practice! get those gains in 💪

paigebueckers hearted your message

yourusername | happy birthday to my insanely talented best friend. you’re 23 now. i remember when we were both 13 year olds talking about becoming actresses and how cool it would be. now look at how far you’ve come, juliet on mf broadway :,) i love you, rach ♥︎

view all comments

rachelzegler | i’m gonna cry im literally sitting right next to you but i love you so much! 💜💜

↳ yourusername | i love you more 🤕💔

kit.connor | happy birthday to the icon herself!

↳ yourusername | iktr!!😩

randomuser | their friendship >>>>>

havanaroseliu | look at that angel ♡ ♡ happiest of birthdays!!!

↳ yourusername | that’s my mf bestfriend

randomuser | i always forget she was in bottoms and the cast is just in her comments LMAOSKSK

paigebueckers | Okay broadway legend! Period!! Happy birthday!

↳ yourusername | put some respect on her name!

↳ rachelzegler | oh hello paige😁 thank youuu!

randomuser | PAIGE?!!!

randomuser | wait omg they know each other???

randomuser | Did we bring them together?🙂‍↕️

TAG-LIST: @jnkbueckers @ch-3-rry

#paige x reader #paige bueckers #wlw #sapphic #paige bueckers x reader #uconn women’s basketball #uconn huskies #uconn wbb #paige buckets #paige bueckers uconn

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colourstreakgryffin · 1 year ago

Note

I was wondering if you can do Alastor x daughter! Reader? She’s manifested from his magic and because of that she has some of Alastor’s powers. However, she’s the complete and total opposite of him. She’s kind and sweet like Charlie, but is very shy. She never likes bringing out her true demon form for she is very terrifying. Alastor is very protective of her. Although, what if she sees Alastor get hurt by another overlord or Adam and he turns into her demon form to protect him and everyone is surprised by this and maybe even terrified of her.

OMFG. Yes! Second Alastor request in a rooowww! I love this man uncontrollably and he would be a good daddy. He’s a stag papa with his little fawn for reaaall! I love this idea, lots of loves and so much thanks for giving Hazbin Hotel more attention— or, I guess Alastor!

Father! Alastor- Hell’s Angel

Okay… Alastor wasn’t suspecting to pop a kid out of thin air when he actually wanted to pop a kid out of thin air. His magic is very powerful, no doubt but he birthed a child from solely his own powers and about 100% of his own DNA so his daughter’s features are primarily matching his own but there are some personal key differences Alastor wanted you to have to seperate yourself from him

So, you’re not a carbon copy of your dad, the Radio Demon. More just have the same deer features and red colouring

Alastor also wasn’t suspecting to have born an angel of his own. Sweet, affectionate, cheery, always smiling but smiling in a more welcoming and natural manner than her papa. He doesn’t mind it, you’re his babygirl. He loves you dearly, even after he just shat you out from literally nothing. He’s just surprised!

Well, at least Charlie loves you because you’re like… exactly what she loves and Alastor gets jealous of how well Charlie bonds with his own daughter!

Alastor has never known how to handle his own powers so when you begin manifesting voodoo dolls and portals containing all kinds of demonic beasts, he has to figure out how to get around all of it without hurting. He has a whole plan scheduled for anytime your powers trigger

Alastor’s protective, loving, clingy and carries you around a lot. He loves being able to bond with you, he likes hearing your cute deer noises when you’re trying to talk to him. He never lets you leave his sight and whilst he reframes from murder, he may just kill Vox for insulting his little fawn

Alastor now has all the full right to tell awful Dad jokes, since he is a proper Dad now. Rest in peace once again, Angel Dust

Yes. Alastor is the type to spoil his daughter. Spoil rotten, he isn’t going to stop and he isn’t sorry. He loves his little princess and no matter what, he’ll give her what she wants. If anybody dares to take what she wants from her, he’ll send them to double hell then give his babygirl extra hugs and kisses as apologises

Alastor knows, like him, you have your own full demon form and for a harmless sweetheart like yourself(that only uses your powers to help the Hotel staff). Your full form is actually terrifying and you know that, which is why you avoid it. You don’t want to scare anybody, especially not your beloved dad so you always reframe from getting too mad

Just let Papa Alastor handle anything bad. He’ll protect and care for you in the most sweet, cuddly way possible

Alastor is a lunatic, barely sane, monstrous all under a passive-aggressive, well-mannered, dapper 1930s gentleman image but when it comes to you, you’re the most healthy thing he has and he feels genuine love, care and affection for his own offspring. He only views you as his daughter, nothing else or anything exploitative. After all, he acts more like the one serving you than anything. He’ll get you whatever you want, no questions asked

Alastor wants to keep you away from threats so when Adam attacks the Hazbin Hotel. He has no choice but to leave you with Charlie. However, this didn’t last long since you knew your father was struggling when you heard his voice’s radio effect cut out. That was immediately a sign that you, not even a ten-year-old, to jump in and it caused you to rampage against Adam when you used your powers to track down and make it over to Alastor

“PRINCESS! GET AWAY FROM HERE NOW!” Alastor, despite the giant thick cut across his chest, staining his red pinstriped coat, over the white trims of his dark red lapels, yells out as loud as he can to catch his child’s attention, to get her to back off. Struggling to rise up to his feet with his tall fluffy deer-like ears pinned back. A sign of his fear, not because of seeing his babygirl in her full demon form throwing everything she has at the angel, Adam but because you’re in so much danger attacking Adam

Adam isn’t a merciful being, despite being an Angel, and the risk to your life is extremely high. Your demon form is ten times more demonic than any sinner can manifest, due to being produced by raw demonic magic, you form into a pure demonic entity

Screeching out in a menacing echoey way, entirely black and clumpy, phasing in and out like mist, shaped like a mighty Wendigo deer with literally zero resemblance to your cute little form. To you, your father’s in danger and with his cane snapped in half, his powers limited and his radio voice effect gone

You can’t just sit around in Charlie’s arms and let Alastor get killed by this psycho angel!

You have to risk everything to let Alastor escape. However, he isn’t going anywhere without you and is frantically trying to think of a way to get you away from Adam as the said holy entity keeps throwing swings after swings with his holy sharpened guitar to break off all the attacks coming from your Wendigo-style full form, letting out many strings of hateful curses at both you and Alastor. It’s clear with all the shadowy spines and green electricity shocks that you’re desperately trying to fend off the much stronger Angel to try protect your father

But if the Radio Demon himself couldn’t take on Adam for any longer than a few minutes. Of course, you don’t stand a chance, lasting half the time Alastor did. Being beaten when Adam outspeed and charged down a devestating sharp swing on your full form’s form head after you attempt to attack again. Thinking rather fast, you used your magic to cushion the blow to avoid it actually killing you

Being thrown over on the opposite end to where Alastor is and fading back into your normal demon form, a nasty big cut all down your back to the end of your fluffy deer tail, sobbing and clenching fangs

The staff watching nearby were terrified yet impressed. Impressed a child of your age and confidence was able to get that many hits on Adam and manage to guard yourself from a attack from Adam himself, getting away with merely just one cut

The Radio Demon growls frustrated and outraged at being forced to watch his child being thrown around like some doll and get even more hurt, now cornered by Adam, since it’s clear he doesn’t care to attack Alastor anymore. Thinking just as fast and getting up properly with his snapped-into-two cane in one tightening fist

Alastor phases through into the shadows in an almost melting fashion, dragging you down with him in the same shadowy engulfing manner by a single black trail travelling over to where you laid, leaving the bloodthirsty human ancestor as the victor of this fight. Needless to say, Alastor was so pissed. Pissed he lost the fight when he had managed to get many hits on Adam at the first section of the fight and pissed that said Angel dared to put his hands on his angel

At least… you’re safe now. Bleeding, hurt, crying and tired from overworking yourself whilst laid in Alastor’s arms, but you’re alive and okay. In your father’s hold and safe. Away from the Hotel and protected by the Voodoo’s shadowy magic

“You’re okay, darling… you’re okay. Papa’s got you, he’s always got you”

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