#(I saw the flowers in the water and all I could think of was that little scene in Tangled right before the song starts <3)< /div>
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"youre so hot, wanna sit on my face?" LANDO X Y/N PLEAAAASE. enemies to lovers or bsfs to lovers pls.
making it up- l.norris

꩜ summary: he's one annoying guy
꩜ pairing: lando norris x fem! fewtrell! reader
Lando Norris had no filter, and a brain the size of a pigeon’s. He liked to party, drink, and piss you off.
Y/n Y/l/n. Max Fewtrell’s step sister. You’d never gone long without seeing him, since he was the most overprotective fucker in the entire world. He had rules for you. You were 23 and he had rules. Yes, it annoyed you, but he was your brother and you loved him anyway (even if his rules were bullshit).
Max Fewtrell’s Rules for a happy Y/n, and an unanxious Max:
Do not under any circumstances go out with Lando Norris. (no issue there)
No stepping foot in Ibiza, Dubia, etc. (annoying, but you weren’t exactly a partier)
No dating drivers. (that was fine too, most of them were self-absorbed and ugly)
Listen to Max’s advice and actually follow it. (now that one, was bullshit)
Max had the worst advice in the world, he didn’t know relationships because his was perfect, he didn’t know friendships because he and Lando were somehow bonded by something cosmic (aka they never fought), and he didn’t know the corporate world, because he had his own business. He was a sheltered little flower, and his advice was shit.
Still, you pretended to follow the rules on the weekends you visited him, whether it be at the tracks, or joining some quadrant shoot in the middle of fucking nowhere, or just in his apartment with P.
This weekend, it was on track. Montreal. Lando was somehow still high off his win in Monaco, and he was even cockier than ever. You weren’t exactly interested in it though. You were too busy trying to hide the fact that you had a date, with someone Max probably wouldn’t like very much.
Lando noticed. He noticed the way you just shrugged his sexually charged and annoying remarks off. He saw you on your phone more times than you’d ever been before. He watched you smile at the screen.
It made him twitch.
Was it wrong to go after your best friend’s little sister? Probably, yes. Did he give a fuck when he’d been in love with you for over a decade? Not one bit.
He dropped his helmet on the table in front of you, his suit still sweaty and hanging low on his hips. You didn't look up from your goddamn phone, but your energy was different. Less engrossed, and more… aloof. It pulled at his heartstrings when he noticed you frowning, and he wanted nothing more than to reach out and hold you, and ask you what was wrong. Jesus Christ, when did he turn into a romantic? A month ago all he was doing was making jokes about the fact he could see your bra through your white t-shirt (which he’d strategically spilt water on), and now he wanted to make everything better for you. He was slightly proud of that. Only 10 sexual jokes this weekend, and none of them were in front of Max, that’s a record low.
“You’re staring,” your voice was monotone and your eyes stared at your phone. He didn’t avert his gaze.
“You’re stunning,” he shrugged. “Even when you’re frowning.”
You looked up from your phone, entirely unimpressed. He looked back at you with that signature smirk, trying to contain his giggles.
“What do you want Norris?” you scoffed, crossing your arms. Operation get you off your phone: successful.
“You,” he shrugged like it was obvious, and you rolled your eyes again. “I want to talk to you, beautiful.”
He watched as you faltered for just a second, and his smirk grew bigger. You sighed. “What do you want to talk about? Your crash in quali just now?” Your words had no venom behind them, so it didn’t bother him. He knew what he was capable of, he was a fucking Monaco Gp winner. So he was starting 10th, big deal.
He leaned in closer, his voice going lower. “I was thinking more… whoever you’ve been texting all weekend, and why you seem so secretive about it?” He masked his jealousy well. He didn’t pry and he wouldn’t if this didn’t work. Even though he wanted you more than anything, he knew he had to let you fall in love with him. He’d been in love with you since karting days, when you were too smart for your own good and helped him with his homework and appalling handwriting. Still he knew you well enough to know that anyone noticing anything small like this about you, freaked you out. Your eyes went wide and filled with something he hadn't seen before.
Holy shit, you were breaking a rule.
He chuckled. “So which one are you breaking, huh?” He had a hunch already, but he really hoped he was wrong, because it would mean he’d had to leave the conversation, find the guy, and beat him up.
“It’s not a big deal,” you rolled your eyes again, and he bit his lip. “And anyway he just cancelled on me so it doesn’t fucking matter,” you shrugged, trying to act like it didn’t affect you, but he saw it did. You’d liked this guy. You’d been looking forward to it.
And he just cancelled, like he didn’t have a date with the most wonderful girl in the world.
Ok, Lando was definitely beating him up now. “I’m sorry,” he sighed. “That’s shitty of him. You deserve someone better than that.” Someone like me. He wanted to say, but he wouldn’t push you when you were down. “You're hot. You're cool. You're ridiculously smart," he listed as you nodded, not exactly believing him, and he decided to switch tactics. "Want to sit on my face to make you feel better? I give really good head?”
You stared at him for a second, disgusted, and then burst out into that laughter he loved to hear so much. He joined you, laughing just as hard.
“Oh Lando,” you wheezed, shaking your head, a hand on his arm as his entire body warmed at the touch. “Never change, you fucking muppet.”
He smiled like he’d won a race. Meanwhile, he hadn’t won the race to your heart yet, but he was definitely a lap up from where he was yesterday, and any progress is good progress.
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#female reader#x reader insert#x reader fic#x reader fluff#x reader fanfiction#fem reader#lando norris x you#lando norris x reader#lando norris#f1 x reader#formula one imagine#formula 1 x you#formula one x reader#formula one#f1 imagine#f1 fluff#formula 1#mclaren#lando norris x reader angst#ln4#lando x reader#f1 2024#lando norris fluff#lando norris imagine#lando norris x y/n#f1 fanfic#f1 angst
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okay we need more kimi x reader because maggie just adorable and everyone needs her as a little sister
it’s maggie’s world, we just live in it ♡
blurbs
kimi antonelli x reader
moments with maggie, kimi and yn ˚.🎀༘⋆
(this one finally got edited and made it out of the drafts)
—

—
!beach time ♡ ̆̈
If I could bottle this day up and keep it in my pocket forever, I would. The sun’s starting to melt into the horizon, spilling gold across the sand like someone up there knocked over a jar of light. The salty breeze whips little strands of hair into my face, and I don't even bother to fix them because Kimi’s laughing so hard next to me that I might cry from how much I love him.
We’ve been at the beach since noon. The three of us—Kimi, me, and Maggie, who insisted we pack “a real picnic” and not “just snacks like you weirdos always bring.”
Which is why our beach blanket looks like something out of an overly curated Instagram spread- fruits cut into little flowers (Maggie’s doing), three kinds of pasta (Kimi’s mom insisted), and the world’s most uneven sandwiches (mine—I got distracted halfway through because Kimi came in shirtless and asked if we had any grapes).
Now, Kimi is half-buried in sand, demanding we make him into a mermaid. Maggie is on her knees sculpting a seashell bikini top with a significant level of dedication.
“You are moving too much! It's lopsided!” Maggie shrieks, attempting to hold Kimi still.
I sit cross-legged beside them, laughing so hard I nearly choke on the lemonade I brought down from the cooler.
“Do not disrespect the ocean princess,” I warn, leaning over to adjust the ‘tail’ we built earlier, smoothing sand into elegant curves.
“I shall send you to the depths,” Maggie says in a dramatic, royal tone. Then she pauses, completely deadpan, and asks, “Is my hair still cute, though?”
“Very royal. Extremely majestic,” I say, brushing some of the sand out of her curls.
Kimi wiggles his way out of the sand and leans over and drops a kiss to my shoulder, quick and sun-warm. Maggie immediately sprints into the shallows, kicking up water and yelling something about being Poseidon's heir. I stay on the blanket, my head tilted back just enough to feel the sun on my face and the warmth still trapped in the fabric beneath me. Kimi flops down beside me a second later, his skin warm and damp from the sea.
“Should we be worried she’s building an army of crabs to overthrow us?” he murmurs, resting his chin on my shoulder.
“She already has. I saw her whispering to a hermit crab twenty minutes ago.”
Kimi laughs again—his real laugh, the unfiltered one that starts low in his chest and shakes his whole body. I love that sound more than I’ve ever loved anything. More than I can explain, even to myself. We lie there in silence for a bit, watching Maggie kick up water and chase a seagull like it personally offended her.
“She’s obsessed with you,” he says after a while, voice soft.
I glance over. His eyes are on me, not the sea.
“She’s my favorite girl in the world,” I reply honestly. “Well, second favorite.”
Kimi’s smile turns into something quieter, something that tugs on my chest like gravity.
“My mom said earlier this week that she thinks you’re more of an Antonelli than me.”
“She’s probably not wrong. I could out-cook you and beat you at Uno.”
“Okay, first of all—rude,” he says, nudging my knee with his. “Second of all… I hope you know how much it means. You being here. Always.”
I do. I feel it every time his mom texts me before races to ask if Kimi ate. Every time his dad saves the good corner seat for me at dinner. Every time Maggie crawls into bed with me at night when I sleep over because she had a bad dream and needs “her big sister.”
I feel it now, as Kimi pulls me into his arms, our backs against the sun-warmed sand and the sea rolling in and out in the background like a lullaby. Maggie is somewhere in the water shrieking about jellyfish (I’ll go check in a minute), but for now, it’s just us. Eighteen years old. Four years together. A thousand more ahead. And all I can think, as I press my face into his shoulder and feel his hand slide into mine, is— This is home.
—
!the great jellycat hunt♡ ̆̈
It starts, as most important quests do, with Maggie kicking open Kimi's bedroom door and declaring, “Today is Jellycat Day!”
I barely look up from my phone. “Is it now?”
She nods solemnly, hugging her well-worn bunny against her chest. “I had a dream that the new one I want was calling to me. Calling, YN. Spiritually. Through the universe.”
“Did it leave a voicemail?” I tease, stretching.
“No,” she says seriously. “But I think it was pink.”
I laugh, rolling out of bed as she flops onto the mattress beside me. Her little legs kick in the air as she dramatically sprawls out, eyes wide like she’s already mentally preparing for the journey ahead. Kimi appears in the doorway a few seconds later, rubbing sleep from his eyes and already suspicious.
“Why do I feel like this is not going to be fun for me?"
“It probably won't be.” I say sweetly, tossing a his hoodie over my tank top.
“Put on your best shopping shoes, Kimi,” Maggie says, flipping onto her stomach. “The mission begins in thirty minutes.”
He groans, but twenty-nine minutes later, he’s in the driver seat of my car, sunglasses on, coffee in hand, and the deep sigh of a boyfriend and brother who knows he’s not getting out of this anytime soon.
We hit the Jellycat boutique first—one of those little shops tucked into the corner of the piazza that somehow smells like vanilla. Maggie practically sprints inside.
“Oh my God, look at the tiny shrimp!” I squeal, picking up the plushy pink prawn with little felt legs and beady eyes.
Kimi glances at it like it’s a threat. “I don’t trust it.”
Maggie, meanwhile, is holding what I think is a dragon wearing a tutu. Her face is reverent, like she just found the Holy Grail.
“Kimi,” she says, serious as ever, “feel this one’s ears.”
Kimi reaches out obediently, deadpan. “Yep. Very… ear-like.”
Maggie gasps. “You don’t respect the process.”
“It’s a stuffed animal,” he says. “I’m not supposed to.”
“Oh, you’re one of those,” I mutter dramatically, arms full of a watermelon slice, a raccoon, and something that might be a mushroom. “A Jellycat cynic.”
Maggie and I ignore him entirely as we dive into the rows, judging each plush on their cuddle-ability, aesthetic, and—most importantly—the vibe.
“Kimi,” Maggie says suddenly, holding up a tiny fuzzy croissant. “This is you.”
He looks at it. “Why?”
“Because you look like you’re done with the world, but you’re actually very soft inside.”
I absolutely lose it.
“That is so accurate,” I wheeze, almost dropping the watermelon.
Kimi just stares at both of us like he’s rethinking every decision that led to this moment. But five minutes later, I catch him gently adjusting a Jellycat octopus on the shelf like he doesn’t want it to be left out. He notices me watching and immediately frowns. “It was crooked. It bothered me.”
“Sure,” I say, smirking. “That’s all it was.”
We leave the store thirty minutes later with three new friends: Maggie’s tutu dragon, a Jellycat loaf of bread that I insisted on, and—surprisingly—an espresso cup plushie that Kimi picked up near the register.
He shrugs when I raise my eyebrow at him. “I named it. Don’t make it a thing.”
“Oh, it’s so a thing,” I grin.
—
!birthday activities ♡ ̆̈
Maggie turns ten today. Double digits. A whole decade.
She told me this morning—at 6:48 a.m. exactly—that it means she’s basically “a grown woman now” and should be allowed to drink espresso, drive a Vespa, and “maybe get a tiny tattoo of a butterfly if Papa says yes.”
I told her she could have a cappuccino and one of those temporary tattoos that smells like bubblegum. She agreed, but only because it was me asking.
Truth is, Maggie’s been stuck to me like Velcro all day. She hasn’t left my side since I walked into the kitchen this morning with her favorite birthday pancakes—strawberry banana with chocolate chips shaped like a smiley face. Kimi had been yawning next to me, watching with fond, sleepy eyes while I squirted whipped cream into a heart on top.
“You know she’s going to lose it,” he murmured.
“Isn’t that the goal?”
And now, six hours later, party in full swing, Maggie’s fingers are still wrapped tightly around mine as she pulls me through a whirlwind of chaos—half a dozen kids from her class, family friends, balloons, glitter, noise, presents, the works.
“I want you with me when I open gifts,” she whispers like it’s a secret, tugging me down to the living room floor.
“You got it, birthday queen,” I say, sitting cross-legged beside her.
Kimi walks by holding two juice boxes, one of which he hands me with a tiny smile. “Surviving?”
“Barely,” I laugh. “She’s my little limpet today.”
“I know,” he says, fond and amused. “She told me you were the only one who understood her ‘birthday energy.’”
And honestly? I do. She’s buzzing like a sugar rush and a dream come true, all wrapped in sparkly tulle and butterfly clips. I sneak away only once—while Maggie’s distracted by her aunt and a new pair of glitter rollerblades—to set up her surprise in the backyard.
Kimi helps me carry it out, grinning when he sees what it is. “She’s going to explode.”
“Good. That’s what we’re going for.”
We drape a blanket over it for dramatic flair and return inside like nothing happened. I barely sit down before Maggie’s crawling back into my lap like she’s six again, holding my arm.
“I don’t want to open the last one unless you’re with me,” she says.
“The last one?” I blink, playing dumb. “I thought you opened everything already.”
“Nope.” She points to a big pink envelope sticking out of a gift bag. “That one says ‘final surprise.’”
“Ohhh,” I say, grinning. “That one.”
I help her up and lead her outside, where the sun is golden and warm over the Antonelli backyard. Kimi is already there, lounging casually on a bench like he didn’t just help me stage a full birthday miracle. The rest of the family is gathering, watching as Maggie skips across the grass with me.
“Wait,” she says, stopping in front of the blanket-covered object. “What is this?”
“Your final surprise,” I say, kneeling next to her. “Want to open it?”
Her eyes are wide. “It’s big.”
“It’s special.”
She pulls off the blanket with a little gasp—and then freezes.
Because underneath it is the miniature pastel pink Jellycat claw machine.
It’s handmade, custom, and filled with her favorite little plushies. The kind she’s dreamed about ever since we saw a video of one on Instagram months ago. I’d saved every spare bit of money and scoured the internet for someone who could build it. It even has her name on it—“MAGGIE’S KINGDOM” in sparkly letters across the top. She doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. Just… stares. And then she bursts into tears.
“Mags?” I panic, dropping to my knees again. “Are you okay?! Did I mess up—”
“No!” she sobs, throwing her arms around my neck with such force we almost both topple over. “It’s perfect! You’re perfect! I love you!”
I melt. Right there in the middle of the backyard, surrounded by balloons and streamers and ten-year-old chaos, I hold Maggie in my arms while she cries happy tears into my shoulder.
“Now you can win every Jellycat you want,” I whisper.
“You’re my favorite person,” she sniffles. “Even more than Taylor Swift.”
I gasp. “That’s serious.”
“I know.”
Kimi chuckles behind us, but even he looks a little choked up. I glance over at him as Maggie pulls away and runs to try the claw machine—her fingers already reaching for the joystick, face glowing with joy.
He mouths- You’re amazing.
I shrug, blinking back my own tears. “She’s worth it.”
And it hits me, like it always does when I look at her—that this little girl, with her messy curls and her giant heart, changed everything for me. She made me part of this family. She made me hers. And on her tenth birthday, there’s nothing I’m more proud to be.
—
date night? ♡ ̆̈
Kimi and I were supposed to have a date night. And not just any date night. The date night. You know—the kind where you shave your legs, actually do your hair, and pick the fancy perfume. The kind where he shows up at the front door with flowers even though he’s been at your side for the past four hours. I had my dress picked. Kimi even made a reservation at that dreamy little rooftop spot in Modena, the one with string lights and lemon sorbet served in tiny glass cups. And then Maggie looked up from her coloring book.
She was cross-legged on the living room rug, wearing her dinosaur pajamas and her favorite bunny slippers, completely zoned out—until she heard me say, “We’ll be back by eleven, promise.”
That’s when she froze. Looked up. Blinked.
“Wait… you’re leaving?”
Kimi paused halfway through adjusting his jacket. “Just for dinner, Mags.”
“Without me?” she asked, like we’d just announced we were moving to Mars.
My heart did that annoying ping thing it always does when she sounds a little too small.
“You’ve got Nonna and a movie night,” I reminded her gently, kneeling in front of her. “And popcorn. And candy. And ‘High School Musical’—the one with the rooftop dance you like.”
“But I wanted to do movie night with you guys,” she said, her lip wobbling. “We were gonna make the popcorn shapes! Remember?”
Kimi and I locked eyes. One of those long, wordless stares we’ve perfected over the years. It was that are we really doing this look followed by the yep, we are kind of sigh.
He pulled out his phone, tapped something, and looked back at me.
“Reservation canceled.”
I smiled. “Dress code officially downgraded to dinosaur pajamas.”
Maggie gasped. “Are you serious?!”
Kimi ruffled her curls. “You better go grab the marshmallows."
Ten minutes later, we’re all in the kitchen like a tiny culinary tornado. Maggie stands on a stool next to me, wearing an apron that says Sous Chef Supreme, dunking handfuls of popcorn into a big bowl of melted white chocolate and sprinkles.
“Are these even legal?” Kimi asks, holding up one of the finished blobs. “They look like unicorns exploded.”
“That’s the point,” Maggie says, snatching it from his hand. “They’re pop-stars. Popcorn stars.”
“You’re raising a pun goblin,” Kimi mutters to me under his breath.
“You love it,” I say, handing him a warm cookie from the oven.
He kisses my cheek in response. “Unfortunately.”
We make a blanket fort in the living room big enough for a family of five. Maggie insists we bring in her entire Jellycat army. By the time she’s done arranging them, we’re surrounded by a croissant, two bunnies, a pineapple, a toast, and one very smug espresso plush named Beanie.
The movie starts, and Kimi lets Maggie use him as a pillow while she sprawls across both our laps. I stroke her hair without even thinking, and she hums, eyes already drooping after the first musical number.
“Can’t believe we ditched lemon sorbet for this,” I whisper to Kimi, smiling.
He glances over at me, arm stretched behind my shoulders, his thumb brushing lazy circles into my skin.
“I’d trade a hundred rooftop reservations for this,” he says quietly, looking down at Maggie.
“I know,” I say. “Me too.”
We fall into a soft silence. The TV glows, Maggie breathes slow and even between us, and for a moment, everything is still. This isn’t the night we planned. It’s messier. Stickier. Slightly more chaotic. But it’s also us.
Kimi nudges me gently, whispering, “Hey.”
I turn my head. He smiles.
“We’ve got the rest of our lives for date nights.”
I lean my head on his shoulder, hand still wrapped around Maggie’s tiny one.
“Exactly.”
—
surprise? ♡ ̆̈
The thing about Kimi Antonelli is—he doesn’t ask for much. Even on race weekends, when pressure bubbles beneath every moment and tension cuts sharp behind every smile, he never demands. He’s focused. Calm. Quietly confident. The kind of person who keeps his world small, not because he doesn’t love—but because he loves so deeply that he guards it. Which is why I noticed the second he started missing them. He didn’t say anything. Of course not. He never would.
But I saw the way his eyes lingered on FaceTime calls longer than usual, how his fingers hovered over pictures Maggie drew and taped to his helmet bag, how he didn’t even joke when he walked past the empty guest paddock passes on the desk.
“They’ll come next time,” he said with a shrug last night, sitting beside me on the hotel balcony, gaze fixed on the stars.
“I know,” I’d said, squeezing his hand.
What I didn’t say was- They’re already on their way.
I spent two weeks planning this.
His mom and dad took some convincing—between his sister’s school schedule and his dad’s work—but when I told them the truth, that he missed them more than he’d admit, they didn’t hesitate.
“Anything for our boy,” his mother had said with a smile in her voice.
Maggie, naturally, was all in from the second I mentioned it.
“I’ll bring the Jellycats, but only the important ones,” she’d whispered on the phone, like it was a top-secret mission. “Tell Kimi I’m going to teleport. But don’t really tell him.”
Today, race day morning, I watch Kimi stand in the middle of the motorhome garage area, completely unaware of what’s about to happen. He’s stretching absently, one headphone in, hair slightly mussed, focus locked on his schedule like he’s trying to keep his head in the zone.
I walk over and press a quick kiss to his cheek. “How are you feeling?”
He gives me a small smile. “Tired. Wish the race started already.”
“Still bummed about your parents?”
He shrugs like it doesn’t matter. “I mean, a little. But I get it. Maggie’s got school. Papà’s got that meeting. It’s fine. You��re here.”
My chest aches a little at that. Because I know exactly how much it means to him.
I glance at my watch. “Hey, will you come with me for a second?”
Kimi gives me a curious look but follows without question as I lead him out of the back garage area and into the small private team hospitality space. The early morning sunlight filters through the open doors, golden and soft.
And that’s when he hears it.
“KIMIIIIIIIIII!”
The sound is high-pitched, delighted, unmistakable. He freezes. Spins.
And Maggie barrels into view from behind the espresso bar, dressed in a mercedes shirt and wearing a sparkly pink hat with "Go Rocket Boy!" scrawled in glitter paint across the front.
Kimi stares for a second like his brain can't quite believe what he's seeing. Then he laughs—full-bodied, breathless, real—just as Maggie launches herself into his arms. He catches her easily, arms wrapping around her small frame, forehead resting against her hair.
“Maggie,” he breathes, still stunned. “What—? You’re here?”
“Duh. I teleported,” she says proudly. “With Mama and Papa.”
Kimi looks up, and sure enough, his parents are standing a few feet behind her, beaming like they’ve just won the lottery. His mom waves with a little mist in her eyes. His dad gives him a thumbs-up and says something in Italian that I don’t quite catch—but whatever it is, it makes Kimi laugh again. He turns to me next, eyes soft and warm, still holding Maggie like she’s something precious and rare.
“You did this?”
I shrug. “Well, I made the call. Maggie organized the operation.”
Maggie grins. “I’m the boss.”
Kimi sets her down gently and steps forward, pulling me into his arms before I can say another word. His hug is tight, strong, and full of something unspoken.
“Thank you,” he murmurs into my hair.
“For what?”
“For knowing,” he says. “And making it happen.”
Later, as he suits up and heads to the garage, Maggie walks beside him like a tiny bodyguard, proudly carrying his helmet in both arms.
“I’ll be on the radio in spirit,” she tells him.
“You better be,” he replies, ruffling her hair.
I watch from a few feet back, standing beside his parents, heart full. He walks toward the grid with his whole family behind him. He looks lighter. Brighter. Like someone who remembers exactly who he’s driving for.
—
#formula 1#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fanfiction#formula 1 x reader#ka12 fluff#ka12#ka12 x reader#ka12 fic#ka12 imagine#mercedes f1#andrea kimi antonelli#kimi antonelli#kimi antonelli x you#kimi antonelli x reader#kimi antonelli imagine
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Spring Showers - Bucky Barnes x Reader
A park date with Bucky gets ruined by rain, so he comes over to your apartment to watch a movie instead.
warnings : Post!Thunderbolts!(no spoilers), established newer relationship, mentions of a horror movie, cursing, Bucky being a softie, nervousness, oral sex (f rec), squirting, metal arm usage, fluff, aftercare (lmk if I’m missing anything)
words: 2.4k
author notes: I’m getting such a kick out of writing scenarios from my life, but replacing my exes with Bucky and making it way better. This is basically therapy wow (I also have a therapist dw)
It was Bucky’s day off, and it was storming out. You’d made plans for what was your 9th or 10th date, to go to a park for a walk, but ended up staying in at your place. The flowers he brought you sat in a vase on the counter, not far from the ones he got you last week.
You’d apologized for not checking the weather forecast, and he comforted you, told you he was just happy to be spending time with you. He had a rough week, there was a bruise around his eye that was still healing despite the serum. Being in your home and with you brought him more comfort than he was able to express. Vocally, at least.
He sunk into your couch, fondly watching you tidy up having not expected a visitor. You buzzed around, putting shoes back on a shelf and filling a glass with water for him. The rain had started before you put on the sundress you’d picked out, so you were still in pajama shorts and a tank top you’d slept in. The sudden change of plans left you prioritizing the cleanliness of your bathroom and the pile of dishes in the sink over putting on mascara and a bra.
“Doll, come sit down, the place doesn’t need cleaning,” Bucky lightly calls to you across the room, wanting you to not be worried about it. You could live in a pig pen and he wouldn’t care.
You sigh, giving him a slight pout. The situation, and your preparedness, obviously not to your liking. “Fine,” you reply, walking over to slump down next to him. Your bare shoulder brushes his arm, which is draped across the back of your couch, but you leave a small distance between you.
The two of you had been going out for a couple of months, you’d been intimate for the majority of that time, yet you still felt shy whenever you saw him again. Especially after almost a week without seeing him. The man had held you in wildly compromising positions, but you still felt nervous about sitting too close too soon.
Bucky, all the gentleman, wanted to let you set the pace. He’d have had you against the door right after walking in if he could throw caution to the wind. He noticed the gap you left between you on the couch, but decided against closing it immediately. Attempting restraint even though his body wanted otherwise.
You turned your attention to the tv, scrolling through channels and shows trying to find something that seemed worthy or appropriate. You could feel Bucky’s eyes on you, he could tell you were nervous. Your hair being up in a bun, he could see the flushed tips of your ears, sure they’d be warm to the touch.
Your eyes flicked across the screen, not totally focused and hoping something perfect would jump out and save you. “You alright?” Bucky asked, still watching you expectedly. Half teasing, half actually concerned. He’d like to think it was his presence that got you this flustered, but he didn’t want to assume and considered something might be wrong. He hadn’t had a gal go on more than one date with him in decades, he found it hard to believe he really had such an effect on you.
“What?” you glanced over when he spoke, quickly catching his eye before looking away again when it made you blush more, “I’m fine, just so many things to pick from, ya know?” you say, trying to make it seem like that’s the obvious and only reason you’d be taking so long.
Bucky laughs beside you, taking a sip of water before reaching for the remote in your hand “Let me give it a try,” he offers, his metal palm open. You resign, placing the remote in his hand, the cool vibranium refreshing on your hot skin. You sit back, pulling your knees up to cross your legs on the couch, your right knee brushing against Bucky’s. You pretend not to notice as you try to relax, listening to the rain on the windows and the random clicks as he browses movies. He lands on The Shining, looking over at you for approval.
“How about this?” he asks. Not the most romantic pick, but you notice the small brown notebook in his other hand. The same one he’d pulled out to write down the name of an album you recommended once. You smile at him, “sure, it’s a classic. I haven’t seen it in a while.” He grins back at you, satisfied that he’d solved the problem.
Over the first half hour of the movie, you and Bucky had fallen back into the comfort of physical touch. The initial tension and nerves faded, replaced by his hands softly massaging your calves which now rest in his lap. You’d settled your back against the opposite end of the couch from him, ankles crossed over his jean-clad thighs.
He thought you didn’t notice at first, how often he glanced over at you. He’d asked a few questions about the plot of the movie, making an effort to show he really was paying attention. You had your attention on the screen, finding comfort in forgetting how flushed the man next to you was making you feel.
However, when he took a deep breath during a scene that didn’t really warrant it, you let your eyes move to him. Your eyes met just as his flicked up from your thighs. The blush on his cheeks deepened when he realized you’ve caught him. You knew the shorts left little to the imagination, but had truly ran out of time to change while tidying up.
You smirk up at him, feeling your body already reacting to him. Even the implication of his attraction to you was enough to make you hotter.
Every time you’d spent time with Bucky, you left feeling the most desired and sexy you’d ever felt in your life. Your anxiety made you almost forget that until you’d see him again. The memories of intense closeness and skin against skin seemed like a fantasy you’d imagined, just until he was touching you again.
Bucky was breathing a little deeper now, eyes searching your face, considering saying something. After a beat, you ask, “You alright?” letting your hand move up his metal forearm. He felt himself throb, having been half-hard from the moment you opened your door for him
Your soft, caring tone and the light crease between your eyebrows only did him in further. He’d been distracted by the sleep shorts you had on, the bow tied loose in the front having slowly come undone since he arrived, pushing his thoughts in the dirtiest direction. The shifting of your tank top as you reached for his arm crumbled all his resolve, the fabric threatening to expose your raised nipple from the side.
Bucky looked totally away from you for a second, before meeting your gaze again, this time with much more sureness.
“Doll, can I please go down on you?” He asks like he’s been holding it in this whole time. His eyebrows are cinched, the pleading expression deepening on “please”.
You’re slightly taken aback by his bluntness, but the arousal quickly drowns that out. His hands have moved up to hold the outside of your thighs, his whole body now turned towards you on the couch. You can see that he’s already hard, denim struggling against him.
Not used to such a sudden change in demeanor, you reply with a small laugh “Uh, yeah of fucking course you can.” you say matter of factly, trying to hide a bit of how affected you are by him.
Bucky smiles down at you, hands moving to grab your shorts and panties and pull them down together. He kneels in front of your couch, placing your thighs on each of his broad shoulders. The cool vibranium, wrapped around your skin, is a nice reprieve from the warmth taking over your body.
He lets out a small groan as his face meets your heat, your pussy already soaked from just being near him. “God, Doll. Here I was trying to be patient and polite, and you’ve been all bothered this whole time.” his voice is slightly muffled by your thighs.
A gasp leaves you when he licks into your folds, the tip of his tongue ending on your clit. “I just really missed you this week,” you sighed out, voice pitching toward the end as he buries his mouth further into you. His flesh hand kneads at your hip, grabbing you firmer as he hears your sweet sentiment.
Bucky’s mind reels at the implication, at the thought of you having you take care of yourself while he was busy with a mission. His cock pulses in his jeans. The image of you filling yourself with your fingers, his name on your lips, serves to add even more passion to his actions.
His tongue presses into your clit, flicking up lightly then pushing down harder in the way that makes you get louder for him every time. He smiles slightly into your pussy, proud of himself for becoming more familiar with your body. You reach a hand to his face, running your fingers across his scalp as he works at you.
Moans fall helplessly from you, Bucky’s soft hair just long enough to make a fist in. Your eyes move just enough to see the movie still playing, you don’t want Bucky to miss anything, so you reach slightly to grab the remote. He notices your attention shift, and halts his motions. You look back down to him, his beard shiny with you and his breathing labored (the most gorgeous a man could possibly be) and sheepishly smile back at his playful glare.
“I was pausing it so you don’t have to rewind” you innocently offer as an explanation, movie now paused. He smiled back at you, shifting back on his heels and moving his metal hand to your center. You bite your lip at the contrast of his sweet smile between your legs and the aging bruise by his eye.
Bucky lets out a light chuckle while leaning back into you, “thank you sweetheart, you’re so good to me,” he says lowly, “so thoughtful. “ the hum of his voice trails off, traveling to your nerves as he mouths your clit again.
A strangled cry leaves your body as he pushes a thick metal finger into your entrance. Dropping the remote and your mouth falling slack at the penetration. He looks up at you best he can, loving the quick rise and fall of your chest caused by his actions, the way your face screws up against your will. As your body gets used to the intrusion, he slowly adds a second finger to you.
You gently rock your body down into his hand, craving the fullness and stretch you’ve come to know with Bucky. The deep pleasure, like an itch being scratched, blooming low in your belly. Bliss is all you feel, with rain pouring against the windows, the lingering smell of incense, and wavy hair between your fingers.
Your noises get higher pitched, turning to whimpers. The super soldier’s stamina is not breaking in the slightest, if anything he’s given more energy by the neediness of the moans coming from you. He could hear you almost whispering his name and curses, more so to yourself, while he kept his rhythm.
Bucky hums and curls his fingers, stroking into your walls as he continues pushing against your swollen clit with his tongue. He feels the fingers in his hair grasp again, your body contracting around his hand, and the sweet noises cease for a moment. You twitch, and he feels you gush onto his hand, you gasp as doesn’t stop his motions within you. Drawing out your orgasm until your legs begin trembling around him.
“Bucky,” you get out with shallow breaths, “oh my god,” he slows his hand, mouth now idle above your sensitive heat. He eases you down from your peak, catching his breath still buried between your thighs, like he’s trying to breathe you in as much as he can.
He pulls his fingers from your warmth, feeling you involuntarily clench again at the movement. A small noise is drawn from your chest, senses heightened in your post-orgasmic haze. Your eyes have fluttered shut, trying to ground yourself after the intensity in the rest of your body, so you don’t notice him licking his fingers clean of you. You just feel the small kisses he leaves on your pelvis and inner thighs.
After letting himself stare at you in your fucked-out state for a couple minutes, ”be right back, Doll,” Bucky stands and leaves the room for a moment. You hear the bathroom sink running, and open your eyes to see him coming back with a damp washcloth for you.
You’ve both caught your breath, and he’s gently wiping your thighs clean. You can’t help but smile at him, this big strong ex-assassin with battle wounds still healing, kneeled in front of you, cleaning you off like you’re made of porcelain. His blue eyes meet yours, crinkling at the sides when he reflects your loving grin. He stands again and gives you a once-over, checking if he can do anything more for you before leaning down to kiss you.
His lips are soft and swollen from his efforts, you can lightly smell yourself on his mustache over the woody cologne you’ve grown to love. Once you pull away, you feel a shiver run through your body. The sheen of sweat from moments before now cools on your skin. Bucky instantly notices the raised bumps along your arms, grabbing the blanket off the back of your couch and spreading it across you. You’re both quiet as he settles back down into the cushions, lifting your legs up and back into his lap like before, making sure to tuck the blanket around your feet.
You give each other a grin again, playfully you pick the tv remote up off the floor and hit power. The tv had gone dark since you last acknowledged it, and he watched you fondly as you found your way back to the movie that was only 35 minutes in.
He gave your calf a squeeze as you hit play again, and kept quiet when you gave him a look of pay attention to the movie while smiling. He knew it was both of you being horny before, but he’d take the blame any day for you. He’d do anything for you.
#bucky barnes#winter soldier#bucky barnes x reader#bucky smut#bucky x reader#james buchanan barnes#thunderbolts#Bucky fluff#Bucky Barnes fluff
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CHILDHOOD-FRIEND!HOSEOK who likes to get temporary tattoos with you. what brought the most nostalgia to Hoseok were the tattoos that appeared among the old snacks. for Hoseok, those temporary tattoos were the equivalent of a summer afternoon spent by the river. only good memories were attached to those tattoos, and when they reappeared in some snacks and other cafes, Hoseok was euphoric. “they are the same as when we were children!” Hoseok's eyes sparkled as he held your hand and gently wet your skin to set the tattoo. “do you know how long i've been waiting for this? i missed this so much.”
CHILDHOOD-FRIEND!HOSEOK who still fastens your coat and ties your shoelaces. since he was little, Hoseok liked to show you everything he was capable of doing. and, when you still lacked a vocabulary of words and terms, Hoseok showed you very proudly how he could now close his coat and tie his sneakers without any help. since then, it kind of became a habit for Hoseok to do these things to you, now not to brag, but to care for you in a sweet and insignificant way that always made your heart warm.
CHILDHOOD-FRIEND!HOSEOK who lets you win card games. when you beat Hoseok for the first time in so many matches already played, Hoseok saw a light in you that he had never seen before; your smile was big, so big that it drew little lines on your face; your eyes were shining, reflecting all the glory you felt. at that moment, Hoseok realized how beautiful you really were. and, from that moment on, Hoseok let you win almost by instinct, to have another glimpse of your radiant light, that light that you emanated when you felt extremely happy. “no, i don't mind losing. i just think it's unfair that you win so many times. it's like you know what you're doing.”
CHILDHOOD-FRIEND!HOSEOK who kept all the gifts you gave him. of course, as adults, the gifts exchanged between you were more useful and thoughtful, but Hoseok had to admit that his favorite gifts were the ones you gave each other as children. small stones with faces, collages and paintings. sometimes bouquets of paper flowers or little origami stars — the gifts were so many and so varied. given on birthdays and christmases, small days just because and bigger days because you deserve it, the gifts you gave Hoseok from your heart were forever safe in a special box that was admired whenever nostalgia knocked on the door of his heart. “i forgot you gave me a coat for my stuffed animal for christmas. i liked how you put his initials on it as my son. it was a touch that really warmed my heart at the time.”
CHILDHOOD-FRIEND!HOSEOK who still makes you jump in puddles when life gets tough. sometimes it was necessary for Hoseok to remind you that, even though life had become something complicated, it was actually made up of the simplest and most beautiful things. when everything was complicated and your mood dragged on through the days, Hoseok reminded you that the sun's rays were still warm, the birdsong still greeted you and the puddles of water still served to give you so much laughter. “hold my hand, if you trust me,” Hoseok would tell you with a wide smile on his lips. as soon as you did him that favor, Hoseok led you out onto the street while small cold drops began to fall on you as a reminder of the continuity of life.
CHILDHOOD-FRIEND!HOSEOK who paints his nails to match yours. it was usually nighttime, with your favorite songs playing, your snacks already eaten, and only gossip stories coming out of your mouths. for a few minutes, between colors and techniques, you and Hoseok painted your nails the same, as an intimate reminder of your complicity. “what if we painted it dark red and grey?” Hoseok looked at all the colors with curiosity in his eyes and excitement in his words. “we haven't painted it grey yet and i saw some designs that would look nice among the red. of course, you'll be the one to do all of this, but i believe in you and in your abilities.”
CHILDHOOD-FRIEND!HOSEOK who confesses the only secret he keeps from you. “i have something to tell you. to confess to you,” you could see by the way he looked away that he wanted to talk about something important, possibly humiliating for him. “i've never told you this, but i think it's time to tell you. you know that you're my best friend. you know me like no one else and you know everything about me. but, there's one thing i haven't told you yet. sorry, i'm nervous. but, i like you. a lot. i've liked you for a long time. and i never told you before because i didn't know if you felt the same way and i was afraid of losing you. but now i know that i would never lose you, so i decided to be honest with you.”
#!BTS bouquet꒱₊˚ᰔ.#hoseok#bts#hoseok scenarios#hoseok x reader#hoseok fluff#hoseok drabble#bts hoseok#bts scenarios#jung hoseok#jhope fluff#jhope fic#bts jhope#jhope#bts fic#bts gifs#bts army#bts x reader#bts fluff#bts imagine#bts imagines#hobi imagine#hobi imagines#hobi x reader#suga imagine#jhope imagines#hoseok headcanons#jhope headcanons
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S4E8: KuroTangled - "And for that one moment, everything was perfect..."
All those days watching from the windows All those years outside looking in...
All that time never even knowing Just how blind I've been...
Now I'm here, blinking in the starlight...
Now I'm here, suddenly I see...
Standing here, it's all so clear I'm where I'm meant to be...
And at last I see the light...
And it's like the fog has lifted And at last I see the light...
And it's like the sky is new And it's warm and real and bright...
And the world has somehow shifted...
All at once everything looks different...
Now that I see you...
All at once, everything is different Now that I see you
Now that I see you...
#you know what??? it gets tagged it's rebloggable - piss on it#dumbest post ever and it's not all matchy but well#kuroshitsuji#black butler#kuroshitsuji: public school arc#cielizzy#tangled#(I saw the flowers in the water and all I could think of was that little scene in Tangled right before the song starts <3)#(was robbed of my picnic but the lantern scene prevails!!!!)#(yo if we get Ch120 animated too!!! more lanterns <3)#S4 nonsense
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When I was a kid, we moved into a house that had a huge lilac tree out front. It was mostly rotten, and it needed to be taken down before it fell. It took a while, but eventually, it was gone.
Mostly. A couple years later, little lilac babies popped out of the ground in its place. My mom was determined to get rid of them, because she'd planted a beautiful flower garden there, and the lilac trees would overshadow and kill the whole garden. I insisted on saving at least a few saplings. She said fine, but I had to dig them out and put them in pots myself.
So, I did. I spent days digging little lilac bushes out of the ground and putting them into pots. Some couldn't be saved, but some could. When all was said and done, I had five brand-new lilac saplings. Seven or eight years old, and it was my absolute pride and joy.
Three died due to sun scorching, severe drought that no amount of watering could save, and perhaps just being moved from their place in the ground. But two survived, and I was awfully proud of them! I'd go out and talk to them every single day. I watered them by hand and made sure they were fertilized properly. I learned all about their favored environments, and I was determined to make sure they lived.
One of my mom's friends saw what I was doing with the lilacs. She asked if she could have one to put in her backyard, and I agreed on the condition that she take very, very good care of it.
It's now fucking enormous. I'm talking ten feet tall and bursting with beautiful purple flowers every spring. My mom still gets updates each year as they start to bloom, which she forwards to me. And all I can think is, "That's my friend! Thriving some twenty years on, there it is."
The other tree nearly died, too. It lived in a pot for far, far too long. I wanted to plant it somewhere in my parents' yard, but my mom was reluctant. Eventually, we agreed to put it in the far back garden. It grew okay for many years, despite the shade, but in all these years, it's never bloomed.
Last year, the massive tree casting massive shadows over the lilac and the garden cracked in half and fell. It tumbled into the garden, crushing part of the nearby shed and destroying a few plants beneath it.
It missed my lilac by inches.
The clean-up is long done. The rest of the tree has been cut down, and my lilac has full sunlight for the first time in fifteen years. It won't bloom this year, I know. But it's got new shoots up. It's taller than ever. I spent half an hour a few weeks ago praising it for surviving all this time, dreaming about its future and telling it how I believe it'll become the tall beauty it's always been meant to be.
I think next year, I'll see flowers.
#aese speaks#a little personal story for you all#the origin of my life-long relationship with lilacs#i've been a garden witch since i was very small! (:#green witch#garden witch#garden magic#the lilac post#hello to everyone reading the og tags on this:#it's a metaphor it's a true story it's real it's fiction it's a poem it's me rambling it's whatever you think it is#30k
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Angel

In which Spencer sees his girlfriend fresh out of the shower for the first time, you looked angelic, and he was about to ruin you.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Girlfriend!reader Genre: smut (18+) Content warnings: spencer being horny, reader wears glasses, teasing, fingering, some spanking, p in v sex, facial, soft!dom spencer Word count: 3,8k A/n: this was supposed to be a short, smut no plot fic, but I got a little carried away...
The familiar goodbyes and sorrys were exchanged as you hung up the phone.
What was meant to be a romantic date out of town with your boyfriend had quickly turned into another one of those last-minute cancellations. It wasn’t surprising—Spencer’s work as a profiler came with its own set of unpredictable demands, and you were used to him being pulled away at a moment’s notice. Still, you couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. You’d been looking forward to spending some time together.
You’d been dating Spencer for about three months, and things had progressed naturally from casual coffee dates to longer dinners and, eventually, a few trips to his place afterwards. As much as you enjoyed those nights, you wished they would last longer. You and Spencer made a habit out of quickies, knowing that at any moment his phone would inevitably buzz with a message or call from his colleague, Garcia. You couldn’t blame him for leaving, serial killers unfortunately didn’t work a nine to five. Spencer hated leaving you as well, making sure he offered you enough apologetic kisses and promises that he’d be back as soon as he could.
He always insisted that you could stay over at his place until he’d be back, but you never felt comfortable enough to do so. It wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy being at his place—you could already picture yourself curled up on the couch with one of his books, or take advantage of his bed, which was a lot bigger and more comfortable than yours. But it wasn’t quite home yet, at least not without him there.
With a resigned sigh, you decided to make the best out of the situation. It had been a long week, and you could use a night of self-care. As you set your phone down on the bathroom counter, you hit play on a playlist you’d made for such occasions—soft, calming melodies that would help you unwind. You pulled your hair back with a headband, took out your contacts, and started removing the makeup that took you half an hour to do earlier.
The bathroom mirror fogged slightly as the warmth of the shower filled the room. You hummed along with the song in the background, while you moved the cotton pads over your skin in a familiar motion.
As you finished, you carefully stepped out of your dress and turned toward the shower. The steam hit your skin as you slid into the stall, closing your eyes for a moment as the water hit your shoulders.
Without realizing, you spent a good hour in the shower. Once comfortably dressed, you let yourself sink into the plush cushions of your couch. A fuzzy blanket was draped across your just shaved legs, and the TV remote was within arm’s reach. You let out a content sigh, almost feeling as satisfied as you would be when being with Spencer.
—
Spencer’s signature melody of knocks broke your focus on the documentary you were watching. You swiftly moved up from the couch and checked the peephole on your door, just to be sure. A smile spread across your face as you saw Spencer rocking back and forth on his feet, plucking at the bouquet in his hands, straightening out each flower to perfection.
You opened the door with a big smile. “Hi, I wasn’t expecting you. I thought we cancelled tonight.”
He hesitates, a slight blush creeping onto his cheeks. “You’re right. I finished the case early, and I’ve been thinking about you all day. I just… wanted to see you.” His words came out more nervously than he intended. “I saw the lights were on, so I assumed you were awake.”
“I wasn’t asleep. Don’t worry,” you answered warmly. You glanced down at the bouquet in his hands. “Are these for me?”
“They are,” he replies, his voice softened as he handed them to you. “You said you liked lilies.”
“I do, thank you. They’re beautiful.” You accept the bouquet, moving to your tiptoes to give him a kiss. Having a boyfriend with an eidetic memory really is perfect.
“I’ll put them in water, come in.”
You moved to the open kitchen, so in awe of his sweet gesture that you were completely unaware of the way Spencer’s breath caught the moment you opened the door, how his pupils darkened when he inhaled your sweet scent and noticed the state you were in. Hair still damp from the shower you must’ve taken, wearing only a shirt, and your face bare besides the glasses you were wearing. Fuck… he didn’t even know you wore glasses.
He couldn’t deny how incredibly cute you looked. Spencer has only seen you during or after dates, and he loved how he could tell that you took the time to get yourself ready. Always wearing an outfit that fits you perfectly and having your makeup done in a way that enhances the features of your face. But it felt so intimate seeing how effortlessly beautiful you looked moving around in the comfort of your own home. You were beautiful in a way that seemed almost unfair, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was the most captivating version of you he'd ever seen.
Spencer wasn’t able to take his eyes off of you as you walked to the kitchen, your breasts swaying with every step you took. The outline of your nipples were visible, because of the cold that escaped when you opened the door for him. Your bare legs reflected the warm kitchen light. He felt like he was about to lose his mind as you reached up to grab a vase from the top cabinet, the curve of your ass peeking out from underneath the shirt that you're wearing.
He felt guilty for the warmth that was spreading through him. He shook his head slightly, trying to reset his thoughts, but the temptation was there. Your easy grace, the way your bare feet padded across the floor, the gentle hum of the air between you—it all combined into something too alluring for him to ignore.
You could feel the heat radiating off of him as he moved behind you, placing a careful hand on your hip as he reached out to grab the vase. You turned around with a smile as he placed the vase on the kitchen counter.
“Thanks,” you beamed, and he mumbled a ‘You’re welcome’, though his response came out as more of a soft hum.
Before he could think better of it, he leaned down and kissed you. The kiss was slow, deliberate—his lips meeting yours with a tenderness that made his pulse race. His fingers tingle with the desire to pull you closer, but just before his hands slid around you, you pulled away, making him swallow back a groan.
“Ooh! I was watching this documentary that I think you’ll be really into,” you said, quickly putting the flowers in the vase and tugging him by the hand toward the couch. He followed like a stray pup, too caught up in the way you moved to protest.
“Oh, yeah? What’s it about?” He asked, hoping the conversation would steer him away from the other thoughts tugging at him. You settled on the couch beside him, and he instinctively pulled your legs onto his lap, cupping your feet in his hands to warm them.
“It’s about space. The universe, really. It’s fascinating, but honestly terrifying if you think about it for too long.”
Spencer nodded, though his mind was far away. He was more focused on the way that his fingers traced the soft lines of your calves. He gently started kneading the muscles, placing just the right amount of pressure.
“Would you go to space, if NASA invited you?” You asked, eyes still glued to the TV.
“Only if you’d come with me.”
His response made you turn around to look at him. The sincere and loving expression he gave you warmed your face. He squeezed your legs gently, and, just like that, you noticed the hint of desire hidden in his eyes.
“Come here,” he said in a whisper, patting his thigh. In a second you managed to crawl yourself onto his lap, and he held you steady by your hips.
You reached up to remove your glasses, but before your fingers could touch the frames, his hand found yours, halting the movement.
You noticed the slight squint in his eyes. “I can’t properly kiss you with my glasses on,” you explain.
"Then let me handle the kissing," he murmured, voice dropped low.
Before you could register his words, his lips had found your neck. His hands moved to cradle your face, his thumbs brushing along the line of your jaw, holding you close as his tongue licked a firm stripe up your sensitive skin.
“Oh, god,” you shuddered in a breath.
“Shaking already?” he teased, voice laced with amusement as he grinned against your skin.
“No,” you lied.
“Are you sure about that? Then why are you doing it again?” He comments before squeezing your breast, your nipple caught in between his long fingers.
You jumped at his touch, a moan escaping your lips. You shook your head as you saw his satisfied expression. “You’re such a dirty tease.”
“I haven’t heard any complaints so far,” he smirks, making you roll your eyes.
His breath was warm against your skin as his lips found their way back to the soft curve of your neck. Tenderly, he placed more kisses to your skin, sending shivers through your entire body. Once pleased, he bends his head down to capture your clothed nipple in his mouth, his hand still kneading your other breast.
“Fuck, Spence,” you gasped, your hands gripping his shoulders to steady yourself. He took his time, his mouth sucking slowly on your nub, savoring the feel of you beneath him. Tonight, he was in no rush—he wanted to taste every inch of you, show you just how much he loves every detail of your body.
You were writhing in his lap as he flicked his tongue against your nipple. Heat forming between your thighs with every stroke of his tongue. He removed his lips from your breast with a pop, and sat back against the couch. His gaze was locked on the now wet, see-through patch on your shirt. He licked his lips, watching you like you were a piece of art he just created himself.
“Beautiful,” he stated.
The compliment sent a rush of warmth straight to your core, your body responding with a soft shiver. Without thinking, you began to grind yourself against his lap, a surge of excitement rushing through you as you felt the firm bulge beneath his pants. Spencer exhaled a deep, satisfied sigh as his warm hands slipped beneath your shirt. He cupped your breasts, squeezing them gently.
“I didn’t know you wore glasses.”
You playfully raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “Oh, so that’s what this is all about, huh?”
“Actually, it’s about all of you.” The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, turning you almost shy.
“Can I take this off?” he murmured, his fingers teasing the hem of your shirt. You nodded wordlessly and raised your arms. Spencer pulled the fabric over your head, his eyes tracing the curve of your bare chest. He cursed under his breath, his hands immediately finding you—fingers digging into your skin as he leaned in, nuzzling his face between your tits with a satisfied moan.
A string of giggles and moans spilled from your lips as his curls tickled your skin. His pink lips grazed you gently, pausing to leave sloppy, lingering marks—each one a reminder that you’d carry with you for the following days.
You moved against him, rolling your hips, finding release in the way that your barely covered heat rubbed against the rough material of his pants. Spencer noticed the change in your rhythm, the need in your movements. He guided you with steady hands, his fingers moving to your hips and then sliding lower, finding the curve of your ass, tightening his grip to help you find the pace you craved.
“Can you handle more?” His voice husked in desire. You nodded, your body already screaming for more. Goosebumps decorated your skin as his long fingers traced your inner thighs. You squirmed helplessly when his thumb pressed against your covered clit. A moan fell from your lips as you arched against him.
“You’re always so wet for me, angel.” The word slipped from Spencer's lips. It was the first time he’d called you anything other than your name or a shortened version of it, and somehow, angel felt more fitting than any word he'd ever used. You looked like heaven to him—your soft skin glowing in the light, your eyes sparkling behind the frames of your glasses, and the way you responded to his touch, every small brush of his fingers making your expressions change so delicately.
He slowly tugged the damp fabric of your underwear to the side, savoring the reveal of your glistening pussy. You lifted your hips, giving Spencer the access to slide a finger through your folds, spreading your wetness.
“Feels good,” you breathed out, your voice shaky as his fingers ran back and forth between your lips, each pass teasingly close to your entrance, but never quite slipping inside. The sensation made your hips buck against him. You weren’t used to being teased for this long—Spencer had a way of getting you dripping without even fully touching you. Usually that led straight to sex, which makes his slow touches feel almost torturous.
“Please, Spence,” you moaned.
“Please, what?” he mused, his eyes dark with desire as he watched how your arousal coated his fingers, his gaze never leaving your glistenings folds.
“I need more,” you begged, your voice a whimper.
“You can have more, angel. My fingers are right here,” he hummed.
A soft moan escaped your lips as you shifted, positioning yourself so his fingers were just below your entrance. Spencer’s breath hitched, and his mouth fell open as you sank down onto his fingers, inch by inch, taking him in. Your hand gripped his shoulder tightly for support as you moved, the sensation of fullness making your body tremble.
Spencer was the first to make a sound, his head falling back slightly as you adjusted to him. His moans only spurred you on. You pressed your forehead against his, your breaths shaky as he pumped his fingers in a steady, insistent rhythm.
His other hand moved to your ass, fingers spreading across your cheek as he squeezed, pulling you closer to him. You were grateful he was doing most of the work—your legs were already shaking, straining to keep up with the building pleasure.
Spencer’s fingers curled inside you, pressing deeper, and the angle was perfect—hitting spots you never managed to reach on your own. Spencer groaned at the sight. Your body was tightening around him, your slickness coating his fingers, and he couldn’t help but imagine it being his cock filling you up.
The sounds he made drove you crazy. Each deep groan, every stuttered breath, showed you how much he enjoyed making you feel good. His enjoyment only intensified your own pleasure.
You were so close, your nipples hard against his chest, your breath mixing with his as your hair tumbled over his face, the scent of it intoxicating to him.
Your breathing turned sharp and shallow, as the pressure built low in your belly. Your vision blurred, the edges of reality dissolving as you neared your climax.
“Baby…” you breathed, your voice a desperate plea. You locked your eyes with Spencer, hoping—praying—he could see the need in yours.
And then, with a confirming nod and a final twist of his fingers, you broke.
A flood of pleasure crashed through you. You gasped, your whole body seizing as your orgasm hit. You were unable to hold back the cries of your release, your hips bucking against his touch, your hands gripping his wrist to anchor you as the world spun in a blur.
He withdrew his fingers from your heat, and the sudden absence left you breathless, a soft sound escaping your lips at the loss. When you blinked your eyes open, Spencer’s warm gaze met yours, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. You smiled back at him, a little dazed, as he brushed your cheek with his untouched hand.
He carefully took your glasses off, placing them on the armrest of the couch. His thumb tenderly wiped away the tears that had escaped your eyes. He then cupped your chin, pulling you toward him, and kissed you deeply, his lips soft and lingering.
“Thank you,” he murmured, as he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close.
“I should be the one thanking you,” you softly laughed.
He shook his head, smiling. “No need for that,” he replied, his voice reassuring.
“But I want to,” you insisted. “Though… I think you’ll find I’m better at showing than telling.” You playfully whispered, as your nails grazed the outline of his dick.
You turned yourself around on his lap, your knees still planted on either side of him, but now with your back facing him. Leaning forward, you braced yourself on the coffee table, your elbows digging into the surface. You arched your back, making Spencer hiss sharply at the sight of your ass displayed before him, your arousal trickling down your thighs. The inviting shake of your hips made him lose his patience, and his fingers fumbled hastily with his belt.
“Fuck,” he groaned, hurriedly pushing his pants and boxers down his thighs. His cock sprang free, hard and eager, the flushed head brushing against the faint line of hair trailing up his abdomen.
He gripped his length firmly, pumping himself a few times before lining himself up with your slick entrance. The weight of his hand settled on your hip as he pressed the tip of his cock against your warmth. He teased you for the briefest moment before you slowly sank down on him.
A sharp cry escaped your lips as he filled you, the new angle making him hit depths you’d never felt before. The stretch was deliciously overwhelming, stealing your breath as your fingers clawed at the table. You shakily tried to lift your hips, but your legs quivered under the strain.
Spencer noticed immediately, his hands finding their place—one on your waist, steadying you, and the other trailing down to your calf. He began guiding you, his strength effortlessly lifting and lowering you along his cock. The room filled with the symphony of your combined moans and the rhythmic slap of meeting skin.
“God, look at you,” he rasped, mesmerized by the way your body took him in. His gaze focused on the bounce of your ass, hypnotized by the way it moved with each thrust. On instinct, he brought his hand down in a firm smack against your cheek.
The sudden impact made you jolt, as you let out a sweet, startled cry. The sound sent a surge of need through him, and he swore he felt himself harden further.
“You liked that, huh?” he mused in curiosity. Without waiting for an answer, he did it again, revelling in your shivering response.
Spencer pulled you against him, adjusting your position until you were seated in his lap, your back pressed flush to his chest. He wrapped an arm around your waist to hold you close, while his other hand rose to cup your breast. His hips snapped into you roughly, each thrust pulling an uncontrollable whimper from your throat.
“You’re doing so good for me, angel,” he praised, his voice hoarse as his fingers pinched and rolled your nipple. The combination made your head loll back against his shoulder, surrendering to his touch. He seized the opportunity to claim your lips in a needy, devouring kiss. Tongues tangled messily, swallowing your shared moans.
As your pleasure mounted, your walls began to flutter around him, drawing a strained groan from his throat.
“Are you close again, pretty girl?” he asked, his voice a rough whisper against your lips.
“Yes,” you gasped, barely able to form the word. “Spencer… fuck, I’m so close.”
“Then cum around me,” he encouraged. “I know you want it.”
“Will you cum inside of me?”
For a heartbeat, he stilled. “I…” He swallowed. His cheeks flushed as he hesitated on his next words. “I want to cum on your face.”
Your pupils blew wide. His confession causing a smirk to tug at the corner of your lips.
That was all the encouragement he needed. His fingers dipped between your thighs, circling your clit in rapid, precise motions. The pressure tipped you over the edge, and with a cry of his name, you let go.
Barely able to recover, you slid from his lap onto your knees, settling in front of him. Spencer’s breath hitched at the sight of you—flushed and disheveled, your sweat-slick skin glowing in the low light. Your lips, swollen from his kisses, parted expectantly.
“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he breathed, unable to tear his eyes away. You looked angelic… and he was about to ruin you.
It didn’t take long. His cock twitched, thick ropes of cum spilling over your face and dripping down to your chest. His jaw went slack, his chest heaving as he watched you collect some of his release with your thumb and slip it into your mouth. The sight of you sucking on your finger was almost enough to unravel him all over again.
Spencer was unable to leave your side, grabbing his sleeve to gently clean you up. Once satisfied, you leaned forward, resting your head on his thigh as you savored the comfortable silence that followed.
His phone buzzed suddenly on the couch, shattering the moment. Spencer groaned, grabbing the device and quickly silencing it with a flick of his finger.
You laughed softly, your voice tinged with amazement. “What was that about?”
Spencer shrugged, tossing the phone aside without a second glance. “I can be late for one day.”
#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x oc#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid criminal minds#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#dr spencer reid#spencer reid fic#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds#criminal minds smut#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fluff#criminal minds x you#spencer reid
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Three times where Anakin’s jealousy was harmless, even fun, and one when it wasn't.
Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x Reader/OFC.
Summary: Every time he sees her across the room and forgets to breathe, forgets that damn code that complicates his life. She knows exactly what she’s doing, she’s beauty, power, and temptation wrapped in one impossible woman, and everyone wants her, but she only burns for him. Every time he sees her with someone else, Anakin’s composure cracks a little more.
Word count: 7.141
Warnings: Anakin, a warning itself. A little bit of smut, not graphic, there, toxicity there, jealousy, a creep, violence and blood. (let me know if i miss something).
Author’s note: Hiii, two times in one day, count yourselves lucky. First time writting for our sweet beloved Ani.
This is inspired by hours and hours of clone wars and this tiktok. It goes without saying that all this is fictional, I don't want to upseat anyone, this is for fun.
With that being said, enjoy, hope you like it. Lots of love, ME.
(gif credits to the owner)
The air was thick with expensive perfume, velvet words and politics. Senators with fabricated smiles moved like currents through golden light, their laughter overlapping with the soft strings of the Nabooian quartet tucked into one corner of the ballroom. Glasses clinked. Conversations sparkled.
Anakin felt her before she even entered the hall properly. The soft tug in his chest told him she was close, and when she stepped into view, adorned in metallic green robes that kissed the floor, hugged her curves and shimmered as she moved, he nearly forgot to breathe.
And so did everyone else.
She looked like a whispered sin.
Men turned. Women glanced. Senators whispered. Generals approached her. Every damn set of eyes in that room followed her. Of course they did because she looked like the brightest star of them all.
Anakin could feel them, sense their intentions as they approached her with too-wide smiles like the itch of static across his skin. Their attention wasn’t polite, it was hungry.
His eyes saw her having polite smiles, he heard her laughter, rare but dazzling, curved through the air like sunlight on water, and it struck him, standing across the room in ceremonial Jedi robes, how damn bright she was.
And how many men wanted to bask in her glow.
She was the kind of woman people gravitated toward. A quiet sun in the middle of a storm. A cathedral in a world of shacks, commanding awe.
He stood across the ballroom, robed in Jedi formality, a guest and a ghost. His hands stayed folded behind his back, his expression neutral. But inside, he was seething as yet another advisor leaned just a little too close, whispering something into her ear that made her smile, and his fingers curled into a fist.
For hours, she moved like light across the floor, drawn into every orbit. People hoarded her attention, called her name, asked for things, fed off her warmth. She smiled, laughed, and even joked. All while never looking at him. Not even once.
Then it happened, some Republic attaché leaned in to say something, too close, and she turned her head to hear him better, her shoulder brushing his chest. His hand hovered just behind her waist. Not touching, not quite.
But Anakin felt it, felt the heat surge like a detonation in his chest. A sharp, hot pang hit low in his gut.
He hadn’t touched her in weeks, some mission in some Outer Rim dustbowl, he couldn’t even remember the name now. All he could think about in that moment was the ghost of her skin under his callus fingers, soft, smooth, velvet-warm and seared into his memory like a brand.
And now others were close enough to smell her perfume.
He exhaled slowly through his nose, willing the fire down, but it simmered. Oh, it simmered. Another man stepped up to her side, clearly emboldened. Flirting again. Anakin’s knuckles whitened behind his back.
She plucked the flower the man offered her, twirled it between her fingers, and, finally, looked up. Across the room, past every other face. Right at him and her smile changed. Slow. Private. Not for anyone else. She knew what she was doing and she loved it. He could feel the pulse of her amusement, soft and golden behind her ribcage, glowing just for him.
And that was enough to cool the burn. For now.
She excused herself a few moments later, slipping away with the tail of her gown floating behind her, weaving through polished diplomats and oblivious senators. He waited precisely ten seconds before following, every step practiced restraint.
The cool night air of Coruscant swept over the balcony, a quiet haven away from the noise and glitter of the gala. The hum of air traffic and muffled music were distant, irrelevant things. All Anakin saw, all he ever saw, even in his dreams, was her.
She leaned against the railing like she owned the city, like the stars were her playthings. The wind caught her hair just enough to make him ache.
“You looked cozy in there,” he said, voice low, sharp at the edges. “Your... fan club seemed enthusiastic tonight.”
She didn’t turn. Just let the silence stretch, knowing it’d get to him. It always did.
“Fan club?” she echoed at last, tone light, teasing. “Sounds like jealousy, Skywalker.”
Anakin scoffed and folded his arms. “Interesting choice of company tonight. You always did like the dramatic types.”
She turned, one brow lifted. “You mean politicians?”
“I mean men who seem to forget that you are clearly out of their league.” He stepped closer, boots nearly silent, heat radiating off him in waves.
“You know,” she continued, tilting her head slightly to the side, “if I do have a fan club, I’m pretty sure you started it. That whole brooding stare-from-across-the-room thing? Very compelling.”
His jaw ticked. “Right. I’ll remember to blink next time I watch you let half the Senate fall in love with you.”
Her eyes glittered as she turned to face him. “You were watching.”
“You knew I was.”
“Practically vibrating,” she teased. “If you glared any harder, you’d have ignited the Chancellor’s carpet.”
The Force crackled faintly between them, quiet, intimate, like the brush of fingers on bare skin. He didn’t have to reach for her emotions; they poured into him like sunlight and wildfire. She was amused. Charged. Testing him.
She took a step closer. Barely there, but it was enough. “Maker, you’re jealous,” she murmured, delighted at how much tension it was in his jaw and arms. “That’s adorable.”
That did it.
In one smooth, sudden motion, Anakin pressed her back into the shadows of the balcony, out of sight. Her breath caught as the cold stone met part of her spine and his body followed, flush against hers, every line of him pressed with unrelenting intent, the warmth of his palm burning the small of her back. His metallic hand caught her jaw, tilting her face up, not rough, but firm.
His eyes burned gold in the dark as the shadows wrapped them in silence, covering their secret.
“Do you know how hard it is not to touch you when they do?” he hissed, breath hot against her cheek. “Not to shout that you’re mine?”
She smiled slowly, challenging. “You don’t need to shout.”
He growled softly, teeth clenched. “Right, because you’re the one who loves to be loud.”
She didn’t deny it. “I love to shout your name,” she purred as her fingers found his belt, tugging him even closer.
Their mouths crashed together in a kiss that had no business being soft. It was hot, messy, desperate, brutal in its restraint. Tongues sliding, biting, fighting for dominance, hands gripping wherever they could, pulling the other deeper, like the weeks apart hadn’t worn their restraint down to shreds.
He groaned into her mouth when she bit his lip, and she gasped when he pressed his big leg slid between hers with sinful precision, and Anakin swallowed the sound greedily.
The world outside didn’t exist. There was only this, this fire, this want, this ache they weren’t allowed to name. And the Force around them swirled, tight and humming, their shared emotions tangling like limbs in the dark. Possession. Desire. Frustration. Love, blistering and untouchable.
They kissed like they were starving. Like they might not get the chance again. Like it wasn’t enough to be his in secret, she wanted to be his in blood, in breath, in everything.
When they finally pulled apart, panting, her lipstick smudged, his hair a mess, and her dress rumpled, he still didn’t move.
He leaned his forehead to hers, eyes closed, hand on her cheek now, softer. But the tremble in his chest hadn’t gone.
“You are mine,” Anakin whispered.
Somewhere inside, he knew this was dangerous.
But her hand running in his hair, tugging softly, her lips swollen and smirking beneath his, and the feeling of her emotions bleeding into his own, her heart thudding against his. “Always.”
It all made him reckless.
Made him Anakin.
The halls of the Jedi Temple bathed in a golden wash of sunlight that stretched through high windows. It was a sanctuary, quiet and disciplined, above any kind of distraction.
Anakin stood with his arms crossed, flanked by a line of teen knights finishing saber drills under his supervision. The hum and clash of practice blades echoed through the open-air courtyard, mid morning sun painting golden light across the pale stone floors.
He was focused, they all were. Until he wasn’t anymore.
A tug. It started like a subtle itch in his chest. That familiar flutter of energy in the Force that only she caused. His posture shifted almost imperceptibly. Then came the whispers. The laughter. The telltale shift in attention that shouldn’t be happening in a Temple.
Anakin turned and there she was. She had always made a mockery of Jedi rules just by simply existing.
She moved through the courtyard like a comet, bright, elegant, entirely out of place and somehow right there. The sun kissed her skin and made her glow. Hair swept back, face glowing, wearing that rich blue gown that fitted her like a globe and stole breaths left and right.
Poor young Jedis, they barely stood a chance.
He watched, arms still crossed, as they began to trip over themselves for her, far too eagerly.
A taller knight stumbled forward, lightsaber already off, bowing too low. “Senator, would you care for a demonstration?”
Another, younger, grinned, straightening his robes with unnecessary flair, puffed up his chest and opened his mouth to talk, but was cut short by a third that stepped in beside her, charming and overly familiar. “Senator,” he said, smirking, offering his arm. “Perhaps I could escort you to the Grand Hall? The Temple’s layout can be disorienting, after all.”
“Actually,” another interrupted, “I was just about to take my morning walk, can I show you the gardens?”
Anakin narrowed his eyes. The younger knights, barely past their trials, surrounded her like moths to flame. Soon, he was sure the entire practice floor was about to break in spontaneous combat displays.
They were all smiles and flushed cheeks, tripping over each other for a chance to impress her but all she did was smile politely, the corner of her mouth twitching in amusement.
Anakin moved, dangerously calm, all coiled control and silent warning. The kind of movement that sliced through space like a saber unsheathed, needing no sound to be final. He stepped into view like a storm rolling over a bright sky. Shadows clung to his silhouette, jaw set, blue eyes hard. He towered over the young knights who were still mid-stammer and mid-swoon.
Her eyes found his instantly and a smile, bright, amused, knowing exactly what this was, appeared on her tempting lips. “General Skywalker,” she greeted, honey-smooth and just this side of smug.
“Senator,” he said, voice all clipped politeness, but there was a glint in his eye only she could read. “You’re expected elsewhere. Please—come with me.”
It wasn’t a request. Not really.
She tilted her head, clearly entertained, and followed without protest. Behind her, the poor knights stood shell-shocked and heartbroken.
Anakin took her the long way, through narrow passages and shadow-laced halls that only he would know. Hidden corridors carved into the Temple’s bones, tucked from sight and sound. No one followed. No one dared. No one ever did when he didn’t want them to.
The tension thrummed between them. Unspoken. Electric. She could feel it through the thread they never dared name. That quiet, intimate current that pulsed like a live wire between their hearts. It made her skin prickle and her mouth curl.
“You’re brooding,” she said lightly, brushing his hand with hers.
“They were drooling,” he replied, jaw clenched, walking too fast.
She laughed softly. “You’re a menace.” Force humming quietly between them in familiar warmth.
He didn’t deny it. Just opened the door to his quarters and tilted his head towards the inside. His eyes burned hotter than the twin suns. “They were idiots.”
“They were children,” she said, shrugging off her shawl. “It was flattering, sure. But harmless.”
She stepped into his space and reached for his tunic, smoothing invisible wrinkles just for the excuse to touch him.
His hands found her waist like magnets, urgent, desperate. Like his world only started spinning when she was close. Like he’d been starving for the feel of her. “You’re mine,” he muttered, voice rough, low.
The second she pressed against him, the tension snapped. His shoulders dropped and his breath hitched. She always did this to him, only she ever could.
The smile she gave him lit up every star in his chest.
“Possessive much?” she teased, lifting her gaze beneath her lashes. Her hand rested against his chest, gentle pressure just over his heart. “You’re lucky that’s sexy.”
“They don’t even see you,” he growled, lips brushing the edge of her jaw as he inhaled her. “Not really. Not like I do.”
Her fingers slid into his hair, threading through the waves of it, soft and slow. His anger began to dissolve under her touch.
“I know that,” she whispered, grounding him. “You don’t have to prove anything, Ani.” Her lips brushed his, featherlight. “I only have eyes for one Jedi Knight,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.
A sharp breath left his lungs, forehead pressed to hers. He didn’t speak. Just stood there and felt her. Let her presence, her truth, her kiss soften all the edges. As it always did.
“You’re the only one,” she said, voice softer now, brushing her lips against his. “The only one who gets to take me home.”
He said nothing. He just clenched his jaw and looked at her like she was the entire galaxy, beautiful, untouchable, and he didn’t know how to protect her from it without claiming her. But Anakin was ready to go to the end of time to keep her safe, even if it meant destroying himself in the process.
She kissed him, soft and slow, with reverence, her thumb brushed along his jaw and his hands finally moved. One slid around her lower back, the other tangled in her hair, cradling her like something both sacred and dangerous.
“You were planning to come early,” he said, voice rasping low. “Just to see me.”
She smiled against his lips. “Took you long enough to figure it out, my love.”
He kissed her, deeper, hungrier. Less about proving, more about having. Reverence disguised as hunger. Possession disguised as devotion.
They didn’t speak again for a while. Not when she tugged him toward his bed. Not when his hands ran down her back like he was mapping out the constellations of her skin. Not when his mouth marked her skin like scripture. Not when she gasped his name like it anchored her. Not when he murmured her name like a prayer. And definitely not when the Force pulsed around them, holding the world at bay.
She had come early and now, thanks to him, she’d come more than once… and would definitely be late to her meeting, with love bites and traces of him in places only he could see later in the night.
But that had always been the danger, with her, time bent, it didn’t really matter. The world waited. Only she existed.
And if anyone asked, well, he was General Skywalker. And no one dared question him.
She was trying to work. Key word, trying. Because trying didn’t stand a chance when Anakin Skywalker was in the room. Her focus kept going to him.
He wasn’t even doing anything, not really. Just existing, sprawled across the soft seating like it was his throne, golden and smug. His presence filled the space like a storm fills the horizon, vast and crackling, impossible to ignore. She could feel him under her skin, behind her ribs, humming through her bloodstream even with five feet and a desk between them.
And he knew it, of course he did, he could feel the effect he had on her.
“You know,” he said casually, leaning back and resting the back of his head in his intertwined fingers, “we should go away.”
She didn’t look up from her datapad. “Go away?”
“A vacation.” He was already picturing it, voice wrapped in sunlight. “Just the two of us. There’s a place, far, far from here, remote, beautiful, where no one would recognize us.” He looked at her. “It will be like we are an actual couple instead of Senator and Jedi.”
Her fingers paused above the screen, the weight of the idea pressing into her chest like warmth. She could see it too, for a moment. Feel it like a dream she wanted to believe in.
“I would love nothing more,” she said honestly. “But I can’t, Ani.”
“What do you mean you can’t?” he sat up, affronted, like she’d personally insulted the sun. “It’s two weeks. The Senate can survive without you. Miraculously, I know.”
She sighed, still not looking at him. “I’m sure it can. But I have propositions to review, bills to finalize, votes to prepare. Important meetings—”
He stepped around her desk and popped a dramatic hip like the galaxy's most petulant god. “More important than me?”
She narrowed her eyes, slow and sharp. “You know exactly what you mean to me.”
“Do I?” he said dramatically, crossing his arms and turning around like a tragic holo actor. “Because right now it feels like my heart is being shoved to the bottom of your schedule.”
She let out a breath and leaned back in her chair, folding her hands across her stomach as she studied him.
“Our love is everything to me,” she said carefully. “But my work matters too. It matters for people who don’t have the luxury of sneaking away. Our work matters, Anakin. What we do matters.”
“To me there’s nothing more important than you,” he said standing there with his back to her, arms crossed like a storm cloud, radiating disappointment in dramatic waves.
She stared at his back, lips twitching. “That better not be a pout.”
“No,” he grumbled, “it’s… noble heartbreak.”
She laughed softly, Maker help her, she adored this ridiculous man. “You’re such a menace.”
“And yet here you are,” he said, not turning around. “Still not on vacation with me.”
She stood, walked towards him and slid her hands around his waist, resting her chin between his shoulder blades. “What can I do to prove to you that you matter the most to me?”
“The damage is already done,” he said with great theatrical flair.
A laugh almost escaped her lips, but she pushed it back, and in a swift motion she stood in front of him. Her fingers found his jaw, warm, strong, and tilted his face down to hers.
“My sweet sweet Ani,” she whispered, her lips slow, hot, reverent, against his, making him melt, just a little. “If you want proof,” she murmured, “then let me show you what you mean to me.”
She kissed him, soft and deep, hands threading through his hair possessively, it silenced every protest he thought about making.
The kiss was heated, frantic, like they’d been starving for each other and finally allowed to feast. It was instant combustion. No slow burn, no delicate teasing. Just raw need, all fire and ache and knowing. He exhaled into her mouth, his hands tangled in her hair, then moved down to her waist, clutching like gravity itself had shifted and he was grounding himself.
She tasted like stars and defiance. He kissed her like she was air and flame all at once. The fire she lit inside him was hers alone to command.
When her mouth grazed his neck, what was left of his composure unraveled like silk and his lips met hers again. He walked them back, blindly, not breaking the kiss, not once, her mouth still pressed to his, until she hit the bookshelf. He pinned her there, one hand cradling her head so she wouldn’t knock into the shelves. Books toppled behind them like falling stars as his mouth found her throat, her collarbone, her name falling from his lips like a prayer he’d been dying to say.
She gasped, breathless and burning, and he kissed her harder, like he needed to brand himself into her soul.
Then he moved again, his hands were already back on her, mapping the lines of her body like sacred territory. He knew every curve, every reaction, how she’d shiver when he kissed just below her jaw, how her breath caught when his fingers traced her spine. They collided again, lips bruising, hands insistent.
But it wasn’t just need, it was knowing. The kind of knowing that came from worship and war, from battles fought side by side and promises whispered in the dark.
When the desk hit the backs of her thighs, he lifted her onto it, his free hand shooting out to sweep everything off the surface in one violent motion, datapads, files, a stylus, a small potted plant, all crashing to the floor as if the whole galaxy could wait while his was mouth still on hers, and she pulled him in like gravity had given up and left only them.
They moved together in a rhythm as old as time, sharp gasps, soft moans, whispered names, a symphony of want and devotion echoing off polished wood and walls that had seen too much and still not enough.
Her legs wrapped around his hips, her heels locking at the small of his back, pulling him into her, into this, and he thrust into her, the sound she made shattered him. Her head fell back, exposing her throat, and he kissed it reverently, like a knight bent before a goddess.
She was wrapped around him, tangled in his body like ivy on stone. Her hands were in his hair, his tunic, her voice in his ear, guiding him, worshipping him. His mouth dragged over her neck, her chest, every place that made her tremble.
His hands moved over her body like he knew every inch of her in his bones, because he did. He didn’t fumble. He didn’t guess. He knew her like he knew the hilt of his saber, like breath, like instinct. He knew what would make her gasp, what would make her moan, what would unravel her completely. And she gave herself to it, to him, because she knew him just the same.
When the desk groaned in protest, he lifted her into his arms, and she laughed breathlessly against his mouth as he carried her to the little velvet sofa, limbs tangled, breathing ragged. He continued to worship her there, whispering her name like it was a secret spell that bound the universe together. She pulled him in with her eyes, with her hands, with the soft, broken sound she only ever made for him.
Every movement, every sound, every glance between them was instinct, history, devotion. They didn’t have to speak. They knew.
And when they finally collapsed on the floor, sweaty, undone, breathless and wrecked and more whole than ever, he hovered over her, brushing damp hair from her face, his heart pounding against hers.
“You are everything to me,” she whispered, cupping his cheek.
His lips curved into a crooked smile as he pressed his forehead to hers. “No,” he murmured. “We’re everything.”
The gala was crowded, loud, and glittering with too much fake gold and not enough sincerity. She floated through it like she always did, charming, gracious, intelligent. Every word laced with purpose and diplomacy. She was dazzling, magnetic. Untouchable.
Anakin had been watching her from across the room, he always is, with admiration, with love blossoming in his chest, but tonight his jaw was clenched so tightly it could shatter in any moment.
Senator Vanto of Andosha was practically glued to her side, as he had seemed to be lately. He had been circling for weeks like a blood-slicked nexu. It started with a look across the Senate, followed by sugar-drenched pleasantries echoing in marble halls and smiles that lasted a second too long, then a fleeting compliment with a lingering hand on her back. Then he started to get more bold, a too-close whisper over a datapad, every time she laughed the man leaned in closer, taking every possible opportunity to have a hand on her, his eyes devouring her like a predator savoring the kill.
Anakin had seen it all, every touch, every glance from the Senator over the last few weeks, and it burned through him like acid, each and every single time, and she didn’t see it. Or worse, she refused to.
Now, in that glittering cage, every time he even breathed close to her, every time she flashed that too-perfect public smile, Anakin’s vision blurred at the edges. And when the senator started parading around with a hand on the small of her back, his filthy hand on her smooth velvety skin, fingers grazing the open back of her gown like he had the right, like he could, Anakin’s blood boiled.
And she, she laughed, not her real laugh, the one she gave him in quiet moments beneath tangled sheets, but the polite one she wore in public. It didn’t matter. It burned all the same.
Without a word, he turned on his heel, strides clipped and purposeful. He didn’t care who saw. Let the whole damn Senate speculate. Let them whisper. He didn’t care. He launched his fighter and left.
By the time she got home, the apartment was dark. Cold. But not silent. Anakin was there, pacing like a caged animal, shoulders tight with barely restrained fury.
She didn’t even get her shoes off before the storm hit. “Something wrong Ani?” she asked, the door barely clicking shut behind her.
He turned, the heat in his eyes sparking like wildfire. “You really have to ask?”
She blinked at him, confused, tension curling at the edge of her spine. “I don’t understand.” She frowned, “If you’re upset about something, say it. Don’t just, brood,” she said, unwinding the earrings from her lobes.
“I’m not brooding,” he snapped. “I’m trying very hard not to explode.”
She scoffed. “Well, you’re doing a terrible job.”
“Just like you were at keeping Senator Vanto’s filthy hands off you,” he said, sarcasm dripping like venom.
Her breath caught. “Are you really going to start again?” she snapped, looking at him through the mirror in the room, pulling the pins from her hair, letting it tumble over her back. “I’ve told you, he’s a colleague. That’s all.”
Anakin stood dead center in the room, arms stiff at his sides, fists clenched so hard his knuckles were white. “A colleague who practically breathes down your neck every time you’re in the same room. And you let him!”
Her laugh was cold, sharp. “Let him? You think I let him?”
“I don’t think,” he said, voice jagged. “I saw you with my own eyes!”
“I was doing my job!” she said loudly, turning towards him. “Talking, negotiating, building rapport, which is what I’ve always done. What do you want me to do, Anakin? Be rude? Push him away in front of the entire Senate chamber just to make you feel better? Throw a drink in his face and declare I belong to you?”
“I’m asking you to see it,” he bit out. “He touches you like he owns you.”
“I don’t belong to anyone!” she yelled, sharply and coldly.
“I thought you said you were mine,” he said, lower now, his voice breaking at the edges.
“I’m not a possession, Anakin.”
“No,” he said, quieter, rawer. “But you are mine, just as I’m yours, because we chose each other. Because what we have is real. And he’s trying to take you from me,” he said, touching his chest.
Her laugh then wasn’t cold, it was shattered. “You sound insane.”
He stepped closer, too close. “And you sound blind.”
The room froze.
Her face hardened, voice tightening like she was holding back something sharp. “Do you hear yourself right now? He’s not the problem here, Anakin. You are.”
That cracked something in him, clean through the middle, cracking his chest open.
“No,” he said, voice rising. “I’m the one who’s stuck waiting while he gets to stand beside you, hover over you, touch you. Me, the man that has loved you since the first time he saw you, who would burn the galaxy down just to keep you safe, gets crumbs behind closed doors! So excuse me if I’m sick of pretending this doesn’t bother me!”
Her heart stung like it had been slapped. “You think this is easy for me? Hiding, lying, splitting myself in two just to make this work—”
“Then maybe it’s not worth it,” he snapped.
She flinched, like he’d hit her. Her mouth opened, then closed, her voice caught behind the pressure building in her chest.
The silence that followed was instant and total. The air turned to glass between them, fragile, sharp, suffocating, waiting to shatter.
Her voice dropped to just a whisper. “Is that really how you feel?”
He faltered. He didn’t mean it. But pride, stupid, stubborn pride, held his tongue hostage and wouldn’t let him soften. “Maybe it is.”
Her breath hitched, then turned away from him, jaw clenched so tight it trembled. “Then go,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself, holding herself together with the last thread of her control she had before shattering.
Anakin didn’t move, said nothing. His jaw ticked, lips pressed into a thin, bloodless line. He stared at her back for a long moment, at the way her shoulders rose and fell like she was holding it together, barely.
He wanted to take it back. Maker, he wanted to. He wanted to cross the galaxy that appeared between them and fix it, he wanted to hold her and not go.
But he didn’t, and instead turned on his heel and walked out, again. Jumping on his fighter and going away, leaving her in the quiet wreckage of their home.
The silence echoed through the apartment like a thunderclap as she stood there, still in her gown, her earrings in her hand, hair loose caressing her back, and shaking. The lights hummed softly above her. The room felt cavernous without him in it.
And all she could do was stand there, alone, tears pulling in her eyes, surrounded by the wreckage of what they’d built, and wonder, maybe this time, they’d broken something they couldn’t fix.
A full day passed.
She hadn’t moved much, buried under blankets, curtains drawn to shut out the light that mocked her with its warmth. Her datapad buzzed every few hours with messages and alerts, unanswered. The Senate could wait. The galaxy could wait. For the first time in years, she let herself unravel. The senator, the leader, the unshakable voice of reason, reduced to someone wrapped in silence and tears. There was the steady hum of sorrow beneath her skin and the raw ache of something lost, sobs coming and going in waves, breaking through moments of numb silence. She tried to hate him. Tried to hate herself. Neither feeling stuck. Only grief for what might already be gone did.
By late afternoon, the tears had run dry, replaced by something hollow. She pulled herself out of bed, her muscles aching like she had fought a war in her sleep. The shower steamed the mirror, the water was hot, steady, cleansing, grounding her just enough to feel like maybe she could start over.
Maybe.
But she wasn’t sure if she wanted to.
She was wrapping her robe around her when the knock came. She frowned, confused. No one was supposed to visit. The few people who might, had the good sense not to.
When she opened the door, Senator Vanto stood there.
Concern painted across his features like a poor artist’s attempt at sincerity. “You weren’t at the Senate today,” he said, stepping inside uninvited. “People were asking. I was worried that you perhaps were ill.”
She blinked, unsettled. “I... wasn’t feeling well.”
He smiled, taking a slow, familiar step toward her. “I figured as much. I thought maybe I could help. Maybe you needed someone to talk to.” His eyes dragged over her, landing on her exposed collarbone where the robe dipped. “Or just someone.”
A chill slid down her spine and she tightening the piece of clothing around her.
She moved toward the sitting area, creating distance, hoping he’d take the hint. “Thank you for your concern, but really, I’m fine.”
“I know,” he said smoothly, following her, “but maybe it’s time you stop pretending you don’t need anyone.” He looked her over, the flush skin, her bare legs, her wet hair. “You need someone who can take care of you,” he reached out, brushing a strand of damp hair from her face.
She stepped back, discomfort. Her skin prickled, but not the way it did when Anakin touched her. There was no warmth here, no tenderness. Just a creeping, nauseating wrongness.
“I said I’m fine.” Again, she rounded the sitting area and tried to put as much distance between them as she could.
But he followed, again, too closely, too comfortably. With every inch she gave, he took more.
“You’ve always kept yourself surrounded by politics, war, rules, men who are never really there for you. Jedi who disappear when it matters most.” He said it with meaning, with venom. “But not me,” he sat and pushed her to sit with him. “I wouldn’t leave you alone, not even for a second.”
Her knees hit the cushions before her mind registered what had happened. Her stomach turned. “Vanto—”
“I mean it.” His voice dropped. “You need a man who’s strong enough to handle you. Someone who knows what to do with a woman like you.” His eyes drifted down. “Someone who knows how to touch you.” His hand landed on her thigh, firm, possessive.
Her blood froze. The hand was not delicate, not gentle. It burned. Her skin crawled under it.
“I can give you what he never could.” His voice slithered around her. “You don’t have to be alone anymore.”
She tensed, tried to inch away, but his hand gripped tighter. “Let go of me,” she pushed his hand away. “It’s time for you to go,” she said, standing sharply.
He stood too, moving in close, cornering her. “Come on, darling,” he said with a twisted smirk on his lips.
She backed up. Her robe slipped slightly off one shoulder again, she yanked it up with trembling fingers.
“You can stop pretending now. No one’s watching.” His hand caught her arm.
She yanked back. “Don’t touch me.”
But he didn’t stop and his grip tightened. “I’ve seen the way you look at me—”
“There’s no way I look at you,” she snapped, breath catching. “Let go of me.”
“No more playing game,” he smirked again.
“Stop it—” she twisted, trying to break free.
“No more hiding.” His other hand gripped her side, fingers digging through the thin robe like claws.
She gasped. “Please, no.”
The fear started creeping up her throat like acid.
Her skin was on fire where he touched her, not in the way Anakin lit her nerves with heat and reverence, but like poison seeping into her bones.
“You’ve got no one here but me.”
She whimpered, voice cracking. “I said no—please don’t—”
He leaned in, tried to kiss her.
She twisted, shoved against him, her voice shaking, heart in her throat. “I said no—!”
And then—The door burst open with a crash.
A wind tore through the room as if the stars themselves had followed him in.
Anakin stood there, eyes burning, jaw locked, the fury of a thousand suns radiating off of him. His voice was low, guttural, animalistic.
“Get. Away. From her.”
Vanto startled, letting go just long enough for her to stumble back. She shoved him hard, scrambling to the other side of the room.
And before she could even breathe, Anakin crossed the room in three strides. The Force lifted Vanto off the ground like he weighed nothing, like a ragdoll, choking him mid-air. His feet kicked helplessly as Anakin stalked forward.
“You dare to touch her,” Anakin growled, his voice was cold. Controlled, but barely.
He threw him against a wall and with his free hand, took his lightsaber and ignited with a snap-hiss of blue death. “You hurt her.” His face was carved in stone, his rage blistering, terrifying, as he pointed with his saber at him.
“Try fighting like a man,” Vanto stood up, coughing. “Without your Jedi tricks.”
Anakin’s lips twitched. A slow, dangerous smile, not at all kind. “Oh, it would be my pleasure.”
The saber shut off with a snap, and he launched forward.
The fight was brutal. No rules, no honor, just raw and animalistic fury unleashed in the flicker of a heartbeat.
She stood frozen, robe clenched tightly around her trembling frame, breath caught in her chest as she watched the man she loved, her sweet Ani, unravel.
Anakin was a storm, all fire and anguish and vengeance, striking with the kind of force that only came from years of buried grief, unspoken heartbreak and possessive love in every strike. Metal met flesh with a sickening precision. Blood splattered. Vanto swung wildly and desperate, landing a few hits, but they barely registered.
Anakin was relentless, built for combat. Designed for it. He wasn’t born like that, for war, but he was made into it. War had carved him into a weapon, he was honed by pain, but underneath the fury still lived the boy who once only wanted to protect the people he loved. And now, seeing her hurt, that boy was screaming and the man he had become answered with rage.
“Anakin, stop!” she cried, breathless, panic bleeding into every syllable. “Don’t—please, he’s not worth it!”
In the chaos, as she tried to break them apart, to stop the devastation, Vanto’s fist swung. It wasn’t meant for her. But it found her anyway. It hit her, colliding with her cheek, sharp and brutal.
The sound, sickening, wrong, echoed through the room like a thunderclap. She gasped, stumbled, a cry of pain tearing from her throat as she crashed into the side table and fell. The thud of her body hitting the floor split the air.
Everything stopped. He punched her. She was on the ground, pain flashing in her glassy eyes, blood on her hand and a cut in her porcelain skin.
The sound she made, that wounded sound, more raw than war, more real than anything he’d ever heard, broke something in him so violently that his breath left him in a single, strangled gasp.
The world narrowed and all he saw was her, his word had fallen hurt and all his anger turned to something worse.
She was hurt. Because he hadn’t stopped it. Because he hadn’t been fast enough. Because he had left and was almost too late, again.
That was it, he snapped.
Anakin tackled Vanto with everything he had, not as a Jedi, but as a man who had seen the only thing that kept him sane, the source of his happiness, hurt and afraid. There was no humanity left as he charged. The punches came fast, the anger white-hot. He didn’t hear Vanto’s protests, and didn't care because all he saw was a danger to her. He threw him across the room, pinned him again, and hit him harder.
All he felt was heartbreak made flesh, striking out at the thing that dared hurt what mattered most to him.
Every hit said: You don’t touch her. Every hit said: You don’t get to make her afraid. Every hit said: She is mine to protect.
Only when Vanto was unmoving, groaning, bleeding, broken on the floor, did Anakin stop.
He stood there for a moment, chest heaving, fists trembling with fury. His eyes were wild, dark with something primal, something unbearable. A small whimper reached his ears and he turned around. She was still on the floor, broken and shaken.
The door opened again. Security. Too late.
Anakin rushed to her side, kneeling, hands shaking as he cupped her face. “Are you okay?” His voice cracked, desperate. “Look at me. Tell me you’re okay, please.”
He touched her cheek, gently, like she was made of light and grief and might vanish or shatter if he pressed too hard, and she whimpered at the contact. It wasn’t fear this time, nor pain. But because something in her had broken open, and he was the only one who could hold it together.
“This is all on me,” he breathed, horror and panic folding into his voice. His eyes burned, rimmed red. “Maker, forgive me—” His breath stuttered. “I shouldn’t have left. I should’ve—”
Her wide, tear-glossed eyes met his. “You came back,” she whispered, voice so small it broke him. Her trembling fingers touched his cheek, catching a tear as it slid down his face. “You came back right when I needed you.”
His face twisted with emotion, grief, relief, love that nearly broke him in two. “Of course I did,” he choked out. “I’ll always come back.”
Her lip quivered. “Don’t leave me again,” she pleaded. Her voice was broken, raw, but somehow softer.
He closed his eyes, forehead resting against hers, as if that could fuse them together and keep the world from breaking them again.
“Never,” he whispered, voice raw and aching. “My love, never.”
Behind them, security restrained Vanto’s broken, barely-conscious body. There was shouting. Movement. But none of it touched her. None of it touched him. But none of it mattered.
She leaned into Anakin’s touch, into the only thing that felt real, like it was the only thing anchoring her to this world. And maybe it was.
“Just hold me,” she whispered. “Hold me like only our love matters in this world. Hold me like only you know how to.”
Even if the fire of his rage still clung to him like a second skin, he was hers, and she was his. He was the safest place she had known.
He was home.
Without a word, Anakin gathered her into his arms, carefully, reverently, as if she were made of sacred things. He held her like she was the only truth he’d ever known, the only fight that ever mattered.
And in that moment, with her curled against his chest, with her tears soaking his tunic and his heartbeat steady against her ear…
The galaxy could’ve ended, and neither of them would have noticed.
#star wars#anakin skywalker#anakin skywalker smut#anakin skywalker imagine#anakin skywalker fanfiction#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin skywalker x female reader#anakin skywalker x you#star wars fandom#star wars fanfiction#star wars prequels#star wars x reader#star wars x you#star wars smut#sw anakin#anakin skywaller#star wars anakin#anakin x reader#anakin skywalker fluff#anakin skywalker fic#anakin skywalker fanfic#hayden christensen fanfic#hayden christensen characters#anakin fanfiction#anakin star wars#Jealous!Anakin#Possesive!Anakin
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DUDE! SHE LIKES YOU BACK
spencer reid x fem! reader
synopsis: in which reader has returned from a field injury and Spencer surprises her.



Being shot wasn’t the badass experience all those cop shows made it out to be. It hurt, like a bitch and the recovery made you feel weak and useless. You werent allowed to work and were limited to doing paperwork from home.
However, today was the first day Hotch had allowed you to come into the office and work. Everything remained the same, the vending machine in the hall still required a good kick for it to actually give up the food inside, the ladies bathroom still had that one out of order stall and all your employees hadn’t changed one bit.
The thing that did catch you by surprise was the sight of beautiful spasms of colour put into a glass full of water.
Flowers.
They looked way too particular to be the generic $5 bouquet that had been bought from a supermarket. There were pink tulips, a few stems of lavender, peonies and a delicate sunflower in the middle of them all and the stems were wrapped in a white bow which was now drenched into the water but was further proof for its individuality.
You took a seat at your desk picking up the flowers and inspecting them closely, an attempt to see if anyone had left a note- a clear sign as to who sent them but your question was soon answered when a familiar voice sounded behind you.
“Oh! Do you like them?”
Spencer.
Before you could even say anything to him he started rambling
“I read up about botany and found out many believe that pink tulips symbolise affection and care, lavender represents healing and that peonies present good luck.” He paused his explanation by pulling his lips into one of his straight lined smile and nodding his head nervously.
“Oh! And the sunflower was just because I thought it looked pretty and you have Van Goughs portrait in your apartment.”
You smiled laughing at the clear thought he put into them. He looked like he want to say something else but you interrupted him by pulling him into a hug pressing your head into his neck. He seemed surprised at the hug but willingly reciprocated and wrapped his arms around your lower back. You both ignored the wolf whistle clearly made by Derek.
“Thank you, Spence, they’re beautiful.”
He blushed at the gratitude, “It’s the least I could do after your injury. Speaking of can I help you with anything?”
You laughed sitting down, ”God no. Thank you. But seriously, everyone is making this way big of a deal than it actually is. I’m not running a marathon I’m just writing files.”
He laughed again the blush still evident on his cheeks. You stood up and announced you would be right back - fleeing to grab more files from Hotch. The coworkers who saw all began heckling Spencer at what just happened.
“My man! Who knew pretty boy had this much game?” Derek hollered slapping Spencer’s back. Whilst Penelope almost jumped up and down in delight. “Oh my god they’re gonna have baby geniuses.”
“Garcia I gave her flowers not an engagement ring.” Spencer stated.
“Who’s getting an engagement ring?” Emily asked finally arriving for work.
“Nobody…yet” Penelope answered wiggling her eyebrows and walking back to her lair.
Spencer was so pleased with himself but a question Emily asked made his blood run cold.
“Yikes! Who got L/N flowers?”
“Me. Why? Is that a problem? Oh god is she allergic? I should have known!”
“No it’s just she hates flowers. I offered to get her some after she told me her had cat passed but she told me not to and that although she was grateful she couldn’t imagine a worse gift.”
Spencer’s eyes were practically gouging out of his head with anxiety and Derek couldn’t help but laugh as he joined the two.
Spencer looked between them rapidly and stuttered out, “What? But she gave me a hug and said they were beautiful? Do, do you think she lied?”
Emily raised her eyebrows mouth opening as she let out a knowing laugh. Derek looked at her and soon reacted similarly.
“What?” Spencer asked growing annoyed feeling like a child being left out of a game by their peers.
Derek offered an explanation. “You know how you’re a germaphobe but had no problem making out with Lila Archer that one time in the pool?”
Spencer blushed with embarrassment, “Why do you always bring that up?”
Emily rolled her eyes brushing him off and added to the point. “Spencer I think this is one of those situations.”
He furrowed his eyebrows confused. And Emily leaned in waiting for him to get it. His brows remained furrowed as he spoke again.“I don’t get it. Is this supposed to mean something?”
Derek rolled his eyes all concepts of being subtle gone out of the window.
“Dude! She likes you back.”
#x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#bau team#flowers#dr spencer reid#spencer reid x you
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Dinner, Dinner!
—jason misses your anniversary dinner, but makes it up to you… MDNI
"Would you like to browse our dessert menu, madam?" The waiter asks in a thick French accent as he stretches his arm out to pour your second glass of wine.
Your brain is fogged as your fingers fiddle with the stem of the glass as you swirl the crimson liquid around, splashing all sides of the glass.
"Madam?" The waiter repeats. You hadn't even realized you hadn't answered his previous question. You flick your eyes to his.
"I…um—sorry, can you repeat the question?" Your mind is clouded with a storm of fury and hurt. Jason, your boyfriend, had forgotten your anniversary dinner, leaving you to endure the sympathetic glances of strangers as they noticed the empty seat across from you.
"Of course, madam. I asked if you would like to see the dessert menu," the waiter repeats, his voice a distant echo. You turn your head to the empty seat in front of you, the thought of enduring the restaurant's atmosphere a daunting prospect.
"Could I just have the cremé brûlée?" You finally ask, your eyes still fixed on the empty seat, your voice trembling slightly. "In a to-go box, please."
It was the first dessert you and Jason shared at this very restaurant, three years ago today.
"Of course," the waiter said curtly, turning slightly before you raised your voice.
"And, um, could you take the other wine glass?" You awkwardly ask. He simply nods again, carefully placing the stem between his index and middle fingers upside down before turning away to tend to another table.
You should just leave.
It was clear he wasn't coming.
A light smile etched into your face as the waiter set the to-go box with the fancy dessert. You carefully reached into your purse, steadily gripping your wallet to pay. The waiters brought his hands up, shaking his head side-to-side.
"Please. No payment is necessary, madam. Enjoy the dessert," he says kindly. You sniffle, a stray tear falling down your face. You nod gently, issuing a strained, 'Thank you.'
He curtly nods, turning to go back into the kitchen. You gather your things, including the dessert, and move to walk out of the front door.
Upon stepping outside, you are met with the cold Gotham air. Your dress even sways in the wind as you walk, and your heels clank against the pavement.
The walk home wasn't too long, maybe six minutes or so, but God, did it feel like an eternity. All you could think about was how hurt and disappointed you were and what you would say to Jason when you inevitably saw him.
Your brain tried to conjure all the reasons he didn't show.
Did he forget, or did he purposefully not come?
Now, you knew it couldn't be the latter, Jason wasn't a dick.
He was just an idiot.
Your thoughts continued as you stuck your key in the lock and carefully twisted it to unlock your front door, pushing it open quickly.
You set your purse down on a table next to the door, glancing at a framed photo of you and Jason happily eating ice cream on Jason's birthday last year.
You felt sick.
You quickly flick your attention away as your eyes begin to well with hot tears, easing your way into the kitchen. You stand on the cold tile for a minute before getting a sudden inspiration rush.
You didn't want to think about him any longer tonight. You'd prepare a hot tea, watch a movie, or perhaps even read a good book.
Yes. That sounded like a fine plan.
As you were steeping the leaves in hot water, a knock on the front door pulled your attention away. You left the bag to steep and returned to the door. Pulling the door open, you were met with Red Hood—aka your boyfriend, Jason—gripping a bouquet of fresh flowers.
You're tempted to slam the door in his pretty face, but you don't—not yet, anyway.
"I'm an asshole," he says, his voice distorted from his modulator.
The sight was ridiculous; if you weren't so pissed, you'd laugh.
He realizes the absurdity of the situation. "God damn, fuckin' helmet," he irritably gruffs, ripping off his helmet. Your eyes widen, your mouth hanging open.
Anyone could simply walk by and figure out who the highly sought-after vigilante was.
"Jason, you can't just—get inside!" You grip his arm, dragging him inside the confines of your home—an action you immediately regret.
"Fuck, baby," he begins. "I'm—I'm so sorry," his tone is sincere as he anxiously drags his hands through his hair.
"I looked like an idiot, Jason," you breathe out, reaching for the bouquet of flowers he brought.
Hell, it wasn't their fault Jason was stupid.
"I know—" he says, following you into your kitchen as you fill a vase with water for the flowers.
"A fucking idiot," you snap, setting the flowers gently into the water. You reach for a pair of scissors. "I requested an extra wine glass when I sat down, and I had to be the one to tell him to take it away," you angrily say, snipping some of the leaves off.
"Baby, I'm really, really sorry. I got caught up—"
"Where were you?" You set the scissors down, turning to look at him.
"Dick needed some help scouting a potential crime circuit in Blüdhaven," he sighs. "He told me it wouldn't take long. Should've known better," he wipes his hand over his face, hissing at the contact.
Your eyes sweep over his face, taking note of the fresh cuts and bruises that now taint his face. Fresh blood prickled from some; others were caked in layers of it.
"Are you hurt?" You ask, concern lacing your words.
He raises a brow. "Don't worry about me, Sweetheart. I'll be alright. I'm more concerned about you," he admits honestly.
"You're bleeding," you observe, wincing at the sight.
"Just a hair," he lightly smiles. "I'm okay."
Sure, you were pissed at your boyfriend, but you wouldn't let him be in agony like he was.
He was bleeding, for God's sake.
"Let me clean them up," you simply say.
"No, no. I'm fine—" he began, shaking his head lightly.
"Please," you insist.
He huffs, then accepts defeat. He takes your hand stretched out and follows you to the bathroom. He sits on the toilet as you fumble through your medicine cabinet to gather band-aids and Neosporin.
"I hope it's okay. I, um, only have these band-aids," you awkwardly say, holding up a box with a familiar blue hero on the cover.
"Baby, why do you have Nightwing band-aides?" He questions skeptically.
"Dick brought them to white elephant last year, and I got stuck with them," you lightly laugh. "He's a horrible gift-giver."
Jason laughs. "Promise to remind me to take them off before I leave. He cannot see me with these on. He'd have a damn field day," he grumbles as you laugh.
"I promise I'll remind you," you affirm, pulling a small step ladder in front of him so you could sit before carefully squirting a bit of the ointment out onto your pointer finger and pressing it to each of Jason's cuts.
He barely winces or whines as you continue the action, delicately tending to each cut. His eyes wander to yours, focusing heavily with determination on what you are doing, even sticking your tongue out to concentrate.
"I don't deserve this," he heaves as you open some band-aids.
"What? To have ten Nightwing band-aides on you all at once?" You laugh, carefully laying each of the band-aids over the cuts.
He snickers. "That and you taking care of me."
You pull back slightly. "What?"
"I ruined our anniversary tonight. I left you alone in that restaurant and, look at you, still taking care of me," he exasperates. "I don't deserve you."
You frown. "Don't say that. I mean, ya, it was shitty, but just because you did something shitty one time or even twice doesn't make you undeserving of my love, Jason," you gently say, fingers moving to caress his jaw on their own volition.
He leans into your hand. "I just don't want to lose you. I love you."
Jason and you have exchanged hundreds, if not thousands, of "I love yous" throughout your relationship, but this one felt different.
It felt more like a sacred prayer spilling from his lips—a tender plea from the depths of his soul. It felt all that much more divine.
You found yourself leaning to kiss his lips, your hands moving to thread through his hair. His lips instantly moved with yours, and his hand gripped your cheek.
It was a tender kiss—an 'I'm sorry,' wrapped in an 'It's okay.'
As the seconds passed, the kiss became more fervent—urgent. You even slipped off the step ladder and moved onto Jason's lap. He welcomed you with open arms, encasing you tightly with each of his hands on your hips as you straddled him.
Your hands glided through his hair messily and eagerly as his hands massaged the fat of your hips. You let out a whine that Jason catches as he slips his tongue in your mouth.
You find yourself rocking against him, desperate for friction. He groans, gripping your thighs tightly as he stands with you, guiding you towards your bedroom.
Never once did your lips disconnect.
He gently lays you on the bed as he hastily sheds his boots, armored jacket, gloves, and pants. Your breathing is labored as you follow suit, gingerly slipping off your simple black dress and kicking off your heels, revealing your matching red bra and pantie set you had worn.
Jason stands in front of you in nothing but his boxers, eyes soaking you in.
"What?" You question nervously, feeling self-conscious with his eyes so focused on you.
"Did you—did you wear that for me?" He asks lazily.
Your lips quip. "Duh. Who else?" You giggle. "You like it?"
He lets out a dry laugh, moving to hover over your body, sticking his arm out to stabilize himself so as not to crush you. "I think I need to take a closer look," he cheekily says, moving his mouth closer to the strap of the bra, taking it between his teeth, pulling a little, then flicking it back. You let out a small whine, feeling the fabric snap back on your skin.
"Sure is sturdy," he observes, fingers coming to slip it down your shoulder. "And a nice color," he murmurs into your shoulder, sending goosebumps down your arm.
"Ya?" You idly question as his lips skim your collarbone.
"Mhm. It's very nice, Baby," he mumbles into your skin, fingers moving to skim the band of your panties. "And these," he begins. "Don't even get me started." He lightly nips your skin with his teeth, eliciting another whine.
His fingers slip under the band, pulling them down so they sit around your lower thighs. "Ah, there she is," he coos, cupping your dripping cunt with his hand.
"Jason," you moan, pushing yourself into his hand more.
"What, Baby?" His words were low and dragged out, almost breathy.
"I—I need more," you groan, hand moving to rest on his hand on you, encouraging more movement from him.
"I'll do you one better," he takes his hand away, making you frown, though he moves to slip his boxers down, showcasing his erect cock.
He strokes himself once before guiding himself into your entrance, leaning down to kiss your temple lightly as he pushes himself inside your cunt. You hiss at the contact, gripping his shoulders tightly.
He groans as one of his hands comes to grip behind your neck, and the other moves to lift your leg up slightly so he can grip your thigh, giving a better angle as he moves at a consistent pace.
A desperate mewl escapes your mouth as his pace fastens. Jason's hand has moved to rest on your breast in your bra as he throws his head back, groaning and spewing curses.
You sit up slightly, gripping his neck, pulling him down to your lips. He kisses you roughly, even sucking your bottom lip in the process. You bring your leg up to wrap around his torso, pushing him even more deeply; he groans as his hand slides to grip the hinge of your leg.
"Jay, I'm gonna—" You begin breathlessly.
"I know, Baby. I know," he purrs into your mouth. "Feel so good."
You grip his neck tighter, lips pressing into his shakily, as you feel yourself tighten around him. All you have had to do was moan his name into his mouth to have him following suit, even moving one hand to grip the sheets beneath as he comes.
You're both gasping for air. Jason eases himself out of you and plops beside you, pulling you close so your face rests on his chest.
"As far as orgasms go, that one was great," you pant, fingers moving to trace the lines between Jason's abs.
"Ya? Do I get a golden star?" He tuts, fingers playing with your hair.
"Sorry, Babe. I only give golden stars for extra credit," you jest, looking up at him.
"Extra credit, you say?" He asks, a wolfish grin spreading across his face. "I think I can do that." He lifts up abruptly, getting off the bed.
"What're you—" You begin to question before he's tugging you towards him by your ankles, planting his face in between your legs.
"Jay!" You shriek, though make no effort to move as his tongue lapses at your sensitive clit.
"I really want that golden star," he mumbles into you.
a/n: finally finished this fic that has been haunting my drafts for months upon months ( ͡ಥ ͜ʖ ͡ಥ)
reblogs & comments are encouraged!
#˚ʚ♡ɞ˚: rylea writes#·—̳͟͞͞♡: rylea's todd tales#jason todd smut#jason todd x reader#jason todd#fanfic#dc#dc fanfic#dc comics#dc fanfiction#dc red hood#dc x reader#dc universe#dc jason todd#jason todd fanfiction#jason todd fic#jason todd fanfic#red hood x reader#red hood#red hood fanfiction#red hood dc#red hood x you#red hood x fem!reader#jason todd x you#jason todd imagine#red hood imagine#jason todd fluff#jason todd x fem!reader#red hood smut#nightwing
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Screening: Halloween (1978).
Pairing: Yandere!Gojo x Reader (JJK).
Word Count: 3.1k.
TW: No Curses!AU, Serial Killer AU, Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Character Death, Oral Sex, Unprotected Sex, Reader is Pregnant, Blood, Age Gap (Reader is 32, Gojo is 18), and No Actual Incest, But The Vibes Are There. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.
There was a man in your kitchen.
Which, to be fair, you’d already known. You’d only woken up because you heard something clattering on that side of your house, only gotten out of bed because the noise had gotten too loud to ignore. You figured your husband (as lovable as he was clumsy, unfortunately) had dropped something during a late-night water run and managed to hurt himself while cleaning it up, and knowing him, your pristine house would be in ruins if he tried to handle it himself. You didn’t particularly care about the mess. It could wait until tomorrow – tonight, all you needed him to worry about was keeping your bed warm.
Exhausted and bleary-eyed, you didn’t think to go back to bed when the noises stopped, didn’t notice how eerily silent your home had grown in the absence of your husband’s rustling. No possibility worse than a little broken glass ever crossed your mind, not until you reached the doorway, until your fickle attention caught on the dots of blood splattered across the perfectly white tiles of your floor; not very many and not very big, but still, more than you thought there’d be. Your eyes followed them left until they grew into a trail, then a puddle, and then finally, your husband – lying on his side, crumpled against the nearest cabinet. You couldn’t see where he was hurt. You couldn’t see is he was breathing.
Blankly, you slumped against the doorframe, suddenly feeling both infinitely more awake and infinitely more dazed than you had the second prior. Almost involuntarily, you called out to him, only aware of the sound of your voice after it’d left your mouth. “…Hiromi? Baby?”
“Not quite.” Your eyes shot up and through the unlit space. It seemed unthinkable that there’d be someone else in the room, that there’d be someone responsible for this, and yet, there he was, standing over what used to be your husband – dark stains painted across the material of his black hoodie, a knife still clutched in his right hand. The knife was set delicately onto the nearest countertop, his foot knocking into your husband’s shoulder with a hollow, fleshy sound he stepped over him, and then, the murderer was in front of you, eyes too bright to be completely human prying into you through the darkness. “But, you remember my name too, right?”
You didn’t, but it came to you quickly. His stark white hair should’ve been the first give-away, and yet, it took another second of staring into those horrible blue eyes to fully believe what you were looking at.
“Satoru?”
It couldn’t have been. You knew it couldn’t have been. It’d been a decade since you last saw him – or, rather, since you last saw the starry-eyed eight-year-old who’d cling to your waist and make you promise to teach him how to braid flower frowns after he was done with his daily lessons. This wasn’t your Satoru. This was a grown man, covered in your husband’s blood and holding his hands up in a show of faux-innocence as he approached you, a startlingly familiar smile already contorting his otherwise blank expression. You tried to take a step back, to retreat without turning away from him, but your heel caught on something wet and too terrible to name and you fell, landing with your back against the corridor wall. Your hands shot to your stomach instinctually, but Satoru didn’t seem to notice, dropping to one knee in front of you. “Oh no, did you hurt yourself?” And then, without ever letting his grin falter. “I’m sorry I made such a mess. I was just so happy to see you, and then someone else came to greet me, and I think I might’ve lost my temper. It used to happen a lot after you’d leave, too—”
“Please don’t hurt me,” you cut in, breathless from the very first word. That, at least, got him to stop smiling.
“Hurt you? Why would I…” He spared a glance over his shoulder, then let out a bark of a laugh. “Oh. No, no, I’d never do that to you. It’s just—He was telling me to leave, and I knew you’d be so happy to see me, and I already apologized for the mess. You used to let me off the hook all the time, if I seemed sorry enough.”
He was right, you had. You’d been young and optimistic, and his offenses had been limited to childish temper-tantrums and a few unkind comments made towards his more discipline-focused household staff. But, notably, he’d also been eight, and you’d been fired in less than a year, and he’d never killed anyone in front of you. God, this was bad. This was so, so, so bad. Hiromi was dead, and you were going to die next, and your baby was—
You couldn’t let yourself think about that. It was all you could do to stop yourself from hyperventilating, to drag yourself out of an oncoming panic attack and back to the very real, very present threat in front of you. Satoru had already hurt someone. He could hurt you, too, even if he wasn’t holding a weapon. You needed to call someone. Better yet, you needed to get away from him.
It took everything you had not to let your voice shake, to force your tongue to cooperate. You tried to remember what it’d been like to be an overconfident twenty-something taking care of a kid just a little too eager to soak in your praise, but abandoned the effort before you could make this any worse for yourself. “Does… Does your family know where you are, ‘toru?”
And, just like that, his smile was back in full force. Almost gleefully, he shook his head. “I don’t think they’ve known for a while now, ma’am.”
Fuck. That was right. You hadn’t been fired – there’d been a fire, or an accident, you couldn’t remember the details. You’d heard, months later, that Satoru had been the lone survivor, but you weren’t sure what happened to him after that.
“I’m sorry, Satoru.” It was hard to feign sympathy when the love of your life’s body was still warm, but you managed. “But, you still did something very, very wrong tonight, and I think we should call someone to help.”
“Well, we can’t do that. They’d just take you away from me again.” You bit into the inside of your cheek. So he wasn’t completely delusional, after all. “That’s what my clan wanted to do. They said you were distracting me, and that you’d have to leave. I told them I didn’t want you to, but…” He paused, laughed. “I guess that doesn’t matter, anymore.”
You opened your mouth, but Satoru didn’t give you a chance to speak. Without warning, he surged forward, cupping your face in his hands, his smile taking on a manic lull. “I waited.” He sounded so proud of himself, like he expected you to congratulate him. “I could’ve come to you right away, but I was good, I waited. I knew I had to be a little older. I knew you’d always take care of me, but I had to be able to take care of you, too.”
Something heavy and sharp turned over in the pit of your stomach. “…I really don’t need you to take care of anything, ‘toru.”
“I know.” Impossibly, his eyes seemed to grow even brighter. “I want to, though. Because it’s what you did for me.”
And then, almost breathlessly, “Because I love you.”
You were going to be sick.
You didn’t know what to say. Even if you had, you wouldn’t have been able to spit it out, not with your teeth grit and your throat filled with cotton. Pathetically, you tried to push him away, to stand up, but Satoru only cooed and took your attempts at resistance as a sign to move on, to move forward. You felt his arms snake around your waist only half a second before you felt him straighten against you – pushing himself to his feet and pulling you into a sort-of bridal carry, not unlike something your husband would’ve done when he was feeling sappily romantic, which he almost always was.
Satoru’s embrace was too unwelcome to be romantic, though, too stiff to be comfortable, and worst of all, too tight to fight against as he made his way through your now-barren home. He didn’t ask you for directions or try any doors. Rather, almost too confidently, he found his way to the master bedroom, the door still ajar from when you’d stumbled through it minutes prior. Unceremoniously, eagerly, you were dropped onto the center of your bed and before you had time to get away, Satoru was on top of you; a knee by your hip, a hand by your head, his mouth on yours. His teeth scrapped across your lips and clashed against yours, his tongue forcing its way down your throat as he let out a wavering, pitchy moan against your mouth. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you thought that Satoru wasn’t a very good kisser, then felt repulsed at yourself. That wasn’t something you were supposed to know. Not about Satoru.
He really had been such a sweet kid. It’d been years since the last time you thought about him, but it would’ve been hard to forget how he’d pouted when you told him homework came before sweets, how his eyes lit up the first time whenever you managed to convince his caretakers that he’d earned a fieldtrip, even if you’d never taken him anywhere more exciting than the local aquarium. You’d never planned to spend the rest of your life filling-in for his perpetually absent parents, but your heart had broken just a little when one of the family’s maids let you know that she’d overheard future plans to let you go. He’d gotten too attached, she’d said. He’s been calling you ‘mom’.
…
Maybe you shouldn’t have been so surprised. It wasn’t like this was ever going to end well for either of you.
When Satoru broke away, it was only to pull his hoodie and shirt over his head with all the grace and all the care of an overeager teenager, too desperate to get back to the act at-hand to think about impressing you. He moved to kiss you, again, but you managed to catch him by the shoulders, to hold him off just long enough to find your voice. “Wait, Satoru.” He didn’t, but he dropped lower, his mouth falling to your neck, then your collarbone. You felt his hand graze over your thigh, and were suddenly aware that you’d gone to bed in an oversized shirt and nothing else. “You don’t really want to do this, you’re just confused. You should take a second to catch your breath, and—” You cut yourself off with a pained hiss as his teeth dug into the upper curve of your breast. You couldn’t bring yourself to wonder whether or not it’d leave a mark. “And— Stop.”
This time, you were forceful enough for him to glance towards your face, his eyes just barely visibly through his disheveled hair. Talking felt like choking down gravel, but you managed. “We can’t,” you said, offering your best attempt at a sympathetic frown. “I’m pregnant, ‘toru.”
It was true, as little as you wanted Satoru to be the first person you told. You weren’t far enough along to be showing, but his gaze immediately fell to your stomach. You counted the seconds as he stared at you, the gears turning in his head. Finally, he pulled away, his expression taking on a dream-like quality.
“You’re so perfect,” he sighed, suddenly dazed. “My mama’s gonna be a real mommy.”
“Mhm.” You didn’t try to smile back. If you pushed your limits any further, the strain may’ve gotten to you before Satoru did. “So, you understand why you have to leave, don’t you?”
“Can’t do that, pretty girl.” He ducked lower, his hands shifting to your waist. You tried to sit up, and he let you, too preoccupied settling into the space between your open legs. “Someone’s gotta be there to watch you extra close, now.”
And yet, watching didn’t seem to be what he had in mind.
The heat of it struck you first; damp and smothering, like steam or humidity or the feeling of water in your lungs, drowning you from the inside out. He ate you out as messily as he’d kissed you; never content to be lapping at your entrance or suckling on your clit when he could be attempting to do both. His broad tongue drew aimless patterns over your cunt, fucking into your pussy with every other stroke while the bridge of his nose ground into your clit, leaving no part of you untainted, unscathed. You tried to ignore him and, when that failed, to pretend that it was Hiromi between your legs, but you couldn’t spin straw into gold. Your husband had always been lovingly playful in bed, prone to pressing open-mouthed kisses into the inside of your thighs, to drawing out the letters of his name into your clit as his long, talented fingers split you open. Satoru’s fingers were too busy groping at your hips to be good for anything else, and he couldn’t seem to pull himself away from pussy for much of anything, let alone something as unimportant as ‘care’ or ‘tenderness’. You could feel his teeth ghost over your skin, his saliva pooling at the apex of your thighs, and worst of all, you could feel yourself growing warmer, your core growing tighter, your self-control waning as you fought against the urge to buck into his mouth.
Your hands balled at the sheets underneath you, your eyes soon clenched shut in an effort to convince yourself that this wasn’t happening, that you weren’t here, that this wouldn’t end with you cumming into the mouth of the man who’d killed your husband, of the overgrown child who you’d once considered yourself responsible for. Tears burnt at the corners of your eyes, but if Satoru noticed your distress, he was determined to play obvious to the bitter end; only whining into your cunt as you clenched around his tongue. It was the reverberation that ultimately sealed your fate; as unintentional on his part as it was unwilling on yours. That was where your commonalities ended, though. While you sobbed and thrashed through your orgasm, Satoru basked in it, curling his tongue against the convulsing walls of your cunt, drinking down every moment of your agony.
By the time he pulled away, you were too spent to be relieved – cold exhaustion flooding into the gaps that reprieve should’ve filled. Even that was stripped away from you, eventually, with only the effort it took him to straighten his back, to spread your legs around his waist, to free his leaking cock from his jeans – a visibly damp spot now staining the dark material. You tried to scramble back, to roll over, but Satoru caught you by the hip with one hand while the other pressed the head of his cock to your entrance, the ghost of contact alone hot enough to burn. “W-Wait,” you tried, before things got as bad as they possibly could. “Satoru, the baby—”
“I know,” he cut in, flashing you a reassuring smile. “I’ll be careful. I promise, nothing’s gonna hurt you or my little brother ever again.”
You wanted to scream. You might’ve, if he hadn’t chosen that moment to push into you, only stopping when his hips pressed into yours and he couldn’t possibly make this any worse.
The physical sensation might’ve been bearable, on its own. You already knew you were never going to recover mentally, but Hiromi was thicker with a more pronounced curve, even if Satoru probably beat him for length by an inch or so. If it’d just been the physicality, the dizziness heat, the nauseating stretch from your cunt to your core, but you might’ve been able to deal with it, but Satoru was so damn loud – disassociating would’ve been too difficult to warrant the effort, if not out-right impossible. He whined as he rutted into you, slotting his just chest against yours and burying his face in your neck, his tongue running mindless over the side of your throat. “I—I thought about practicing,” he muttered, forcing himself to speak between raspy groans and hitched whimpers. “I tried to, because I knew you’d be s—so good at this, but I couldn’t do it, not if it wasn’t for you, or—” You felt him twitch inside of you, and everything seemed to turn to static. When you came back to yourself, he was still ranting, still rambling senseless into your jugular vein. “—I love you. You were always so pretty, and nice, and I love you. I love you. I love you.”
He repeated that same senseless mantra until the words began to slur and crack. You didn’t want to touch him, but his pelvic bone scraped over your clit and you lashed out on instinct – your fingers soon tangled in his hair, your nails biting into his scalp. Satoru’s whimpers were immediately replaced by full-bodied moans only slightly stifled by your skin. Numbly, you were aware that similar (albeit, much more pained) noises were falling past your own lips, that your pussy was soaking in the stimulation your conscious mind rejected, but you could only bring yourself to acknowledge what that meant as your second orgasm crested, as you let what you could only distantly acknowledge as pleasure wash over you. Satoru followed in-suit a few seconds later, making no attempt to pull out as something searing and thick and awful flooded into.
You supposed you should’ve been thankful that he couldn’t get you pregnant. Maybe you’d find the energy for gratitude, later on.
Satoru never really pulled away. He only drew back, allowing for enough distance been you and him to smile, to kiss your forehead – the same way you’d kissed his, when he shared his never-ending supply of candy or scraped his knee. He lingered there, nuzzling against you, one of his hands drifting to your stomach and settling there.
“I missed you,” he muttered, with a shallow sigh. And then, for the hundredth time, “I love you.”
Had you not been able to feel every last inch of his wide, fanged grin biting into you, you might’ve actually believed it was true.
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere imagines#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen imagines#yandere jujutsu kaisen#yandere jjk#jjk x reader#jjk imagines#yandere gojo satoru#gojo satou x reader
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Play Pretend Pt 2 | Charles Leclerc x Law Student! Reader
Summary: Lightning McQueen realises he misses Elle Woods. Or, when Charles finds out your goals always had him in mind, he realises he should've done the same.
Warnings: Swearing. Redemption. Miscommunication
Female reader with various faceclaims. Pics found on Pinterest
2024 timeline and beyond
Not really impressed with this one so apologies in advance
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YourUserName just posted



liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri and others
YourUserName i declare my date for the weekend guilty of being too cute and snuggly
3,558 comments
charles_leclerc i hope he is behaving
→ YourUserName he pissed in my slipper.
→ charles_leclerc how do you know it was him? whatever happened to innocent until proven guilty?
→ YourUserName he fell asleep at the scene of the crime
maxverstappen1 what a cute little terror
→ YourUserName he’s forcing me to watch the imola highlights so he can watch his favourite driver win again
→ maxverstappen1 🦁🦁
→ danielricciardo that is such a lie, you literally told me yesterday that i was his favourite driver
→ arthur_leclerc you are all forgetting that his uncle is his favourite driver
lilymhe sleepy boy
→ YourUserName he wore himself out running away with my highlighters
YourBestFriend okay, these pics are cute but i still don’t forgive him for eating my pizza
→ YourUserName don’t tell the internet i let him have pizza, you’ll get me into trouble with his father
→ arthur_leclerc don’t make me tell on you
→ YourUserName i thought you still liked me :(
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YourUserName just posted



liked by charles_leclerc, lorenzotl and others
YourUserName it’s official, your honour 🎓
4,007 comments
charles_leclerc leo and i are so proud of you, y/n/n. you worked so hard for this. enjoy every moment, you deserve it
→ YourUserName tell leo thank you for the cake. I’ll save him some for later ;)
→ User1 the wink? the wink! what does the wink mean?
User2 charles and y/n are the definition of exes who cannot stay away from each other. they don’t follow each other but they’re always lurking haha
schecoperez congratulations, y/n. look forward to seeing you soon
→ YourUserName thank you for the chocolates!
maxverstappen1 congratulations, y/n. can’t wait to see what you’ll do next
→ YourUserName kick your ass in karting
→ maxverstappen1 keep dreaming
→ YourUserName i think yesterday i proved i can achieve my dreams
User3 anyone else finding the red bull boys’ comments odd?
→ User4 no, they’re just being supportive like the rest of the grid?
danielricciardo fucking ace! well done, y/n. go forth and kick some ass
→ YourUserName who let you out of the old folk’s home
georgerussell63 how shitfaced did you get last night considering your graduation post is a day late
→ landonorris mate, she was worse than me
→ YourUserName don’t tell people that! i'm a lady
→ landonorris a lady who threw up on her kebab and then cried until pierre bought you a new one
logansargeant woohoo 🥳 it was lovely to be able to celebrate with you last night. thank you for inviting me
→ YourUserName thank you for coming! and teaching me some cool new moves
→ logansargeant yeah, let’s not talk about those. i think i put my hip out
→ danielricciardo and they call me old!
yukitsunoda0511 let’s go! well done, y/n!
lilymhe iconic elle woods behaviour
→ YourUserName what, like it’s hard
→ alex_albon getting you to drink water last night was hard
→ YourUserName 👎🏻👎🏻
redbullracing congratulations, y/n. we never doubted that you could do it
→ User5 ariana, what are you doing here
arthur_leclerc oh god, you are going to never shut up about this are you
→ YourUserName just say you’re proud of me and move on. i saw the giant bouquet of flowers, and don’t say they were from maman because i recognised your handwriting
→ arthur_leclerc damn.
YourUserName a big thank you to everyone who has supported me along this journey. to those who came to support me last night and put up with my awful drunken singing. and I suppose a thank you to the F1 grid for ensuring my home looks like a makeshift florist. i love the flowers but i will be chasing bees out of my home for at least a week
User6 they all got her flowers 🥹
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redbullracing just posted



liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and others
redbullracing no, it’s not hearsay. Y/N L/N truly has joined the Red Bull family as an intern for our legal term. we look forward to seeing what she can do, and hopefully welcoming her into the fold full-time tagged: YourUserName
7,377 comments
maxverstappen1 um, excuse me, why the checo hat
→ YourUserName obviously because he is the #1 choice to support
→ maxverstappen1 my insta handle indicates that i’m #1
→ YourUserName that was so cheesy. i hope it gave kelly the ick
schecoperez that is a perfect hat
→ YourUserName i agree. if you sign it for me, i bet i can get it to sell for a fair bit on ebay
→ redbullracing don’t worry. we’ve got loads you can have
User7 babe broke up with THE charles leclerc and then went, and now i’m going to become besties with your rival
danielricciardo i think she should just be my personal legal aide
→ YourUserName sounds like that’ll involve an awful lot of work for somebody who has just started
→ danielricciardo i’m sorry, are you saying i’m a handful?
→ YourUserName i didn’t think you’d understand me if i spelt it
landonorris you know, if you joined mclaren, we could provide you with a papaya jacket
→ YourUserName i wasn’t aware you had any openings
→ landonorris you’d do a great job doing my washing
→ YourUserName 🖕🏻🖕🏻
User8 can somebody check on charles? make sure he’s still alive after this news
→ User9 did you see that he liked this and then unliked?
georgerussell63 this is mercedes amg erasure
→ maxverstappen1 you’ll get over it but you won’t get y/n
pierregasly congratulations, y/n/n. it’ll be nice to still see you around the paddock again






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charles_leclerc just posted



liked by YourUserName, scuderiaferrari and others
charles_leclerc BEST DAY EVER ❤️ thank you for everything, i love you all
20,125 comments
oscarpiastri congrats bro
→ User1 that’s no way to speak to your father
YourUserName leo and i are so incredibly proud of you charles. you deserve this, enjoy tonight x
→ charles_leclerc tell leo i can’t wait to celebrate with him tomorrow when i’m sober, and thank you for the gift x
→ User2 i love that they still don’t follow each other but are congratulating each other on their greatest achievements so far
→ User3 the kisses!!!!
User4 she should’ve been in the paddock
→ User5 she was! arthur posted a story celebrating, and you can catch a glimpse of her in the background
arthur_leclerc lets goooo ❤️
scuderiaferrari bravo charles!! so proud ❤️ here’s to many more
User7 the form on that dive 🍑
→ thisisnoty/n talk about buns of steel
→ User8 is this y/n’s secret account?
YourBestFriend congratulations, charles. we watched you cross the finish line and couldn't have been prouder
→ User9 we? who is we?
→ User10 we all know there’s no way y/n would miss his monaco win, even if they’re not together
YourMum félicitations, charlie. so proud to watch you grow from the teenager to this amazing man
→ charles_leclerc merci maman l/n. thank you for watching and supporting me <3
━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━
YourUserName just posted



liked by arthur_leclerc, carlossainz55 and others
YourUserName fit for the weekend
7,220 comments
danielricciardo i can’t believe max didn’t burst into flames being that close to a ferrari jacket
→ YourUserName don’t be silly. he wanted to steal it
→ maxverstappen1 don’t tell lies. i kicked her out of the garage for her betrayal
redbullracing and why aren’t you in uniform
→ YourUserName i was given the weekend off?
→ scuderiaferrari forza ferrari
→ redbullracing then what were you doing in our garage
charles_leclerc leo said you need to come back from mclaren because you ran off with his rope toy
→ YourUserName oh, that’s what leo told you, was it?
User11 okay but is this confirmation that she was in the ferrari garage for charles?
oscarpiastri you left your 81 cap in hospitality
→ landonorris she did that on purpose because the 4 cap was much better
→ YourUserName @ oscarpiastri can you bring it to family dinner for me?
User12 everyone is a ferrari fan
User13 wait, wait, wait. family dinner?! who’s in attendance, yn!!
User14 charles has followed her again!!!
→ User15 i genuinely thought he would follow max before he followed y/n again
pierregasly not the best weekend for alpine but as a die hard chary/n shipper, it was a perfect weekend
(comment deleted)
━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━
1 year later
charles_leclerc just posted



liked by pierregasly, francisca.cgomes and others
charles_leclerc mon coeur, the day i met you, i was a silly teenage boy who spilt his drink over you at a karting event in a way to gain your attention. and now, many years later, i can proudly call myself your fiance. every moment spent with you feels like standing on top of that podium. thank you for allowing me to wake up next to you every morning for the rest of our lives
(to the general public, y/n says you have to be nice to me about my emotional caption. don’t forget, she’s a licenced lawyer now and can sue you all for defamation)
13,841 comments
pierregasly and to this day, i stand by the fact that telling you to spill your drink on her was the perfect way to gain her attention.
→ YourUserName i still can’t believe charles took your advice on how to flirt with women
→ pierregasly it worked though, didn’t it? and i am the proud boyfriend of beautiful kiks so, i am clearly master
→ YourUserName ew, keep your bedroom stuff to yourself
→ pierregasly you just lost your wedding present
oscarpiastri congrats you guys 🧡 i am so happy for you, my dad and future step-mother
→ YourUserName and you just got yourself banned from family dinner. i'm too young to be called stepmother
scuderiaferrari i think the theme should be disney cars
liked by YourUserName
landonorris simp
→ charles_leclerc @ YourUserName i told you he’d be mean
→ YourUserName sorry bebe but i’m not suing lando. his fans are tougher than i am
User1 charles can you fight? ‘cause your gf is too hot for you
→ charles_leclerc *fiancee
georgerussell63 mate, the fact that you managed to convince her to forgive you AND agree to marry you a year later
→ alex_albon it’s the dimples. who can resist
→ lilymhe is there something you’re not telling me?
→ alex_albon i’m in love with charles marc hervé perceval leclerc
→ YourUserName same
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YourUserName just posted



liked by lilymhe, oscarpiastri and others
YourUserName the evidence is conclusive. your papa and i cannot wait to meet you, only another 5 months to go
#BabyLeclercComing2026
17,309 comments
charles_leclerc je t’aime plus chaque jour. you are the light of my life, as well as the day you agreed to be mine forever, you have made me the happiest man
oscarpiastri i can’t believe i’m going to be a big brother
→ charles_leclerc the bestest big brother
→ User2 i love that this joke is still running two years later
scuderiaferrari all i’m hearing is that we have roughly 5 months to build a baby seat into charles’ car
pierregasly omg omg omg omg omg. stay calm, stay calm. it’s HAPPENING
→ francisca.cgomes why did you have to tell him? now i have to talk him out of buying elaborate gifts
→ charles_leclerc i love how you’re both acting like you weren’t told on the weekend
→ pierregasly i’m just so excited!
→ YourUserName @ francisca.cgomes has he stopped crying yet?
→ francisca.cgomes no
maxverstappen1 i am so happy for you y/n. baby leclerc will make such an adorable addition to the red bull garage. you will make an amazing mother after the way you have bossed checo and me around these past two years
→ YourUserName i think you mean, cared for and cherished, not bossed
User3 wait, but isn’t this the reason charles and y/n broke up two years ago
→ User4 they broke up because charles was talking about kids straight away and y/n wasn’t ready. they’ve now been married for a year so i’m guessing she’s ready now
liked by YourUserName
redbullracing brb working on building a baby play area in the office so you don’t have to worry about childcare. i’m a good babysitter and we can babyproof the garage. it'll be great!
→ User5 i think it’s safe to say everyone at red bull are excited for baby y/n
schecoperez felicidades y/n and charles. what lovely news. mucho amor to you both
danielricciardo i ate way too many cupcakes at the announcement party though. i swear the frosting changed something inside me
→ User6 you’re telling me that the grid were invited to the baby announcement 🥹 be still my beating heart
→ User7 and according to inside sources, a few of them cried
→ alex_albon whoever’s telling you that i cried, don’t listen to them!
→ lilymhe don't lie to the people
━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━
charles_leclerc just posted



liked by YourUserName, maxverstappen1 and others
charles_leclerc when your little man can’t decide if he wants to be like his maman or papa from one day to the next so he combines both for his 5th birthday
15,384 comments
YourUserName not featured is baby lec running around with a mini gavel sentencing everyone to prison whilst wearing his race helmet
alex_albon i still think my sentence was a bit harsh
→ lilymhe you deserved those 10 minutes on the naughty step, you ate all the mini doughnuts!
→ alex_albon yes but he finished it by smashing me in the kneecaps with the gavel
→ YourUserName yeah, he gets that from charles, sorry
→ charles_leclerc 😱
redbullracing happy birthday to our favourite leclerc! we hope to see you back in the paddock soon
→ charles_leclerc stop trying to steal my son, you already have my wife!
→ YourUserName and i thought i was your favourite leclerc!
→ User8 admin going to have some angry parents to contend with on sunday
maxverstappen1 i still think uncle max wins best present
→ YourUserName i can’t believe you had it engineered to go that fast
→ pierregasly yes but uncle pierre will be helping papa charles to repaint it so it’s not covered in red bull logos
→ maxverstappen1 @ YourUserName if he does that, i’m going to unfollow him again
→ YourUserName ffs pierre, i just got them to publicly make up, kiks, tell him
→ franscisca.cgomes behave yourself
jensonbutton little man clearly knows his mum is way cooler
liked by charles_leclerc
danielricciardo please stop inviting me to events where there are cupcakes. i have no control and your mini monster just laughed as i sobbed whilst shoving another one in my mouth
→ landonorris i don’t think you should say these things online
charles_leclerc also not featured is y/n crying all morning about her baby boy growing up
→ YourUserName charl, don’t lie to the fans. they all know you’re the one crying
→ charles_leclerc but he was so little, and he used to come to work with us and now he’s telling us he wants to be just like his clever mummy and his fast daddy and - i just cannot 😭
→ maxverstappen1 @ YourUserName like i said on your wedding day, are you sure this is the one you want to marry?
→ YourUserName afraid so
→ charles_leclerc i would divorce you but you are a very good lawyer and i do not imagine i would come out of it so well
━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━
Requests welcome. I will be doing more Part 1s for some of the other drivers.
Baby Fever Angst Series
Tag list
@callsignwidow @luvrrish @evans-dejong @sadsierra2 @justdreamersdream @spookystitchery @dark-night-sky-99 @majusialikesfastcars @luckyladycreator2 @mrosales16 @reguluscrystals @tvdtw4ever @alwaysclassyeagle @gigicisneros @thecubanator2 @goldenharrysworld @awritingtree @jxnellat @lav3nder-haze @hc-dutch @mxdi0 @buckybarnessweetheart @ironmaiden1313 @dreamercrowd @yourbane @glow-ish @g-l-o-b-e-w-h-o-r-e @weekendlusting @lemon-lav @minkyungseokie @bibissparkles @emryb @barcelonaloverf1life @willowpains @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @rlalliehayes @softtina @marvelfangirl04 @love-simon @peachiicherries @rosecentury
#baby fever angst#formula 1#f1#formula 1 smau#f1 smau#formula 1 social media au#f1 social media au#social media au imagine#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 headcanon#formula 1 drabble#formula 1 one shot#formula 1 fluff#formula 1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 headcanon#f1 drabble#f1 one shot#f1 fluff#f1 x reader#charles leclerc#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc drabble#charles leclerc headcanon#charles leclerc one shot#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc smau#charles leclerc x reader
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──── day 2: dnd on the hotel door.


⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ synopsis. wherein your friends give him.. more than just suggestive photos at your wedding. (you had a private boudoir photoshoot prior to it!)
⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ pairings. kinich, neuvillette, zhongli, tartaglia, capitano x gn!afab!reader. !!NSFW/SUGGESTIVE CONTENT!!
⠀ ۪ ⠀✧ director's notice. saw a cute tt of this exact topic (人 •͈ᴗ•͈) will do diff characters next week!


kinich who'd already been so nervous for whatever was to come on this day; he was always more than willing. he knew the first laugh you both shared. the first kiss you both partook in, not everyone he's kissed had such a long-lasting impact on him, that's if he ever kissed anyone at all (that wasn't you.)
it wasn't all that special he said, but everything you've ever wanted in a wedding was there. he remembered what flowers you'd always pluck from the grounds you traveled on. or the colors that always had your eyebrow twitching just hearing the first letter of the pigment's name.
the venue wasn't necessarily small either, borrowing whatever he could in his homeland to make it perfect, even going as far as to asking others for help on what to embellish the locale in.
for as long as you've known him- kinich wasn't much of a romantic. letting you take the lead instead, switching up occasionally by spooning you alternatively. but you remembered he'd always laid his head atop your chest, from the nightmares of his own past, and regrets; he found peace in listening to your heartbeat, and feeling your torso heave slowly.
he wanted to make you feel special today & tonight. so he wants to do it right at least. he tried to fluster you in a way that you'd be surprised, aware he wasn't very amorous.
or at least that's what was in his point of view because you had a whole other plan ready for him. but you didn't know about the surprises he'd throw either.
the whole theme of the wedding was based on his tribe, encased with traces of your own home/favorite colors.
but something that you'd see as a surprise this afternoon was kinich's suit. it wasn't the usual black suit and tie. no- he wore.. your initial around his neck, and his tie was the color of your eyes.
you felt your eyes water a little, walking down the aisle, your arm entangled with the guardian who's been with you since day one. (or whoever you'd like!)
after the classic bouquet toss, and squealings later. you told your newly-wed husband your bridesmaids had a surprise for him. he didn't think much of it; meeting them before, they seemed nice enough. (one of them is mualani btw :3)
mualani who stands beside kinich briefly for the picture, she hands him a polaroid photo from the photographer's kamera. "what is-" he gets cut off, his face turning to playfully sour until it slowly changes to his usual stoic behavior (he doesn't know his face is turning redder by the second)
"you.. hmm." he awkwardly nodded after another picture was taken of his reaction, cheeks aflame; the picture was still so clear in his mind. now it couldn't get out!
the mental image of your body in frilly lace/in nothing but a blanket over you, a simple layer of clothing that stopped him from seeing your bare body- fuck he could feel himself get hard already.
and the more time that passed, progressing with each photo being taken, the worse his boner got. shit he can't believe you're his. and he's damn well lucky to have you.
even as he stood idly, talking to some of the guests, some more of the bridesmaids came up to him, handing him more scenes for him to visualize in his head.
"ahh.. may i excuse myself from this conversation?" he politely bows and walks away to where you were. the eventide's stellar in the sky definitely wasn't shining each time he saw you. oh there it is- that laugh he always loved and fell in love with again each time he heard it.
"pretty.. ahh.. there's something i.. need help with."
kinich who's already in your newly bought home, hurriedly stripping you of your clothes, ready to devour you and eat your cunt out to his content.
kinich who could only palm his erection, as his mouth latched onto your wetness was already waiting for him. your taste, how it smelled, how your slit was already so wet for him- you knew what you were doing. and it worked really damn well.


neuvillette who was already nervous, throughout the proposal, even you relationship before being fiancees, I mean, it was you, why wouldn't he be worried? he was ready to jump off a cliff if anything went wrong if he'd tell the truth, but he'd never say that.
neuvillette who sighed with relief, the days of worrying that something bad might happen to you on your special day with him. taking pictures with the bridesmaids for the wedding's little picture book for you to look back on soon, and maybe even for your kids to look at and call you both corny for.
neuvillette who suddenly received 3 photo frames from 3 of your bridesmaids, confused as he took a look at it, he could only feel the rush of warmth crawling up from his neck to his ears. his horns grew the more he looked into the photos.
"w- where did you get this?" he observed the room shyly, looking for any signs of you, why? to help him out with 'something' of course. no one could take care of it better than you did.
they simply shrugged and walked away, whispering and chuckling to each other. awkwardly walking to find you, pulling you to the side, inside one of the venue's main buildings, bringing you into one of the bedrooms.
"you didn't need to tease me like this." you were pinned to the bed once the wedding ended. the painful boner you had caused hadn't gone away, even now, throbbing, missing where it's supposed to be (inside you)
ripping your wedding dress off your body (not really, just making sure you get out of it without ruining it), he couldn't wait to fill you with his seed. he wanted to see personally if you could take all of him in. he could only caress the very rim of your hole, teasing you with his fingers before he would finally split you apart with his cock.
from the amount of time, he's been alive, his stamina would be unmatched, so it'd be entirely up to you for how long you wanna do this :)
it felt as if he was such a meanie, but his words were different- praising you, and gently holding your wrists in place. it didn't quite match the pace of his cock drilling itself inside you though, it felt deep, and it looked as if the night has barely even started. oh well.


zhongli had never thought of the idea of marriage until he overheard you speaking about it with a few of your friends. it wasn't you necessarily hoping he'd propose, but you were the only one within the group of four to have not been married yet!
he knows you'd never leave him for another, but adding a ring to your pretty little hand definitely would tell all the other men and women alike who try to hit on you to say everything for him.
the wedding was more than just a delight, it was planned to the very smallest of details. it was beautiful, even on a budget of somewhat a lot but not too much; it made sure to shine brighter than most of the stars that night.
before he could sweep you into his arms, and take you upstairs into the home you both chose out before the wedding; some of your bridesmaids, along with your maid of honor had handed him a book.
they said nothing but laughed and walked away to the food section, looking through the book and oh wow.
he hadn't learned what a boudoir was but he definitely enjoyed what he was seeing now. flipping through the pages, staying to the side so no one else could see what was happening. he'll have to ask you about that lingerie set later, white definitely complimented you..
"s'dirty.. you tease me like this, even on our special day? mmmf.." you sat down on his cock, as he showed you off in the mirror. the same lingerie set you wore in the photo book was already ripped off your body, and on the floor. geo marks that scattered, covering most of his arms caressed your thighs that trembled.
his strong arm ran over your body, carefully exploring every inch of you that he could. the thought of being legally, and weddedingly(?) yours. you have his last name now.
he could only imagine how much more pleasure he'd want to give you throughout tonight. he could only praise you for taking him so well, watching you try and use his cock for your own, but he's too big :(.


tartaglia who introduced you with pride to his family after proposing. but watching you treat his little sister and brother so well.. oh he had to get you pregnant.
but for now, he'd put those thoughts to the side, and enjoy his and your special day, no lust, just love.
you had other plans though. and he wasn't gonna complain.
a couple of your bridesmaids took pictures with him for the futurity of the book of photos for his siblings to look through as well. but after each photo, they all handed him Polaroids.
"what's this?" he looked at them confusedly, but all they did was "just look at it!" "you won't regret it!" and boy he sure did not!!! ssshit just covered in a blanket, no nothing underneath? you wanna get fucked tonight?
he pushed you against the wall of the master bedroom. "mmm.. w'na try to get me hard like that again in public, and I'm gonna do a looott worse than tonight, baby."
the ring on your finger he saw as your hand held onto the wall while he stripped you- he couldn't help but let out a loud as hellll groan. even when he held you down to the bed, he made sure to kiss the jewelry on your finger that meant you're his for life.
while you ride him, his eyes are always on the necklace that has his initials on it, watching it bounce up and down on your chest. for the longest time; he was foreign to the idea of even a relationship, let alone getting to marry someone. but he was gonna make sure you'll feel what he couldn't express throughout time.
when he's soo obsessed with nutting inside you, he holds your hips down onto his, making sure not a drop will be wasted. he could already imagine what your kids with him would look like.


capitano who preferred a more quiet wedding. one between simple friends, and I guess co-workers (he was against it but you invited them anyway.)
so in this sense, columbina, arlecchino, and signora had agreed to accompany you as your bridesmaids. tsaritsa also agreed to bless your wedding (because she agrees that you are strong, mentally, and physically, and give capitano something to look forward to, unlike before.)
i guess the others attended (most attended just to say congrats and leave, pierro was best man)
accompanying you down to a glass garden house nearby the venue you chose out, but before he could proceed, your three bridesmaids stopped him. cheeky smiles on signora, and columbina's lips- arlecchino handed him a book.
"they want you to have this." the fourth harbinger states, leaving with the two ladies simply giggling and walking off, opposite sides of arlecchino.
he questioningly opened the book while about to walk back to you but oh. wow.
as he catches up to you, he's still a bit flustered, but quickly composed himself once more. "are.. you trying to tease me, kitten?"
and as much as he hasn't had any experience in a long while, oh boy is he ready to find out if he still got it or not
but capitano never knew he'd be so turned on to think about what real married life had to offer.. like kids. he knew he couldn't necessarily have them since he's a harbinger, but a man can dream, right?
anyways he's already pulling your hair from behind, while he has you doggy style on the mattress. I don't know cause I get the feeling he would.
a tight hold onto the strands of your hair. "fffuck.. this is what you get for looking so fuckin' hot.." he groans.
even so when he isn't fucking your pussy with sloppy thrusts from behind- he's fingering you with his long fingers that make you go wild.
he does take note that his fingers are pretty long, so he's pretty careful when it comes down to that.
you sitting on his lap while he admires you in the mirror, watching how you reacted to simply him adding another digit inside your hole, as another hand held onto your left hand, caressing the ring that binded you to him. he couldn't be happier!
#──── resin: performances#genshin impact x reader#genshin drabbles#genshin headcanons#genshin fanfic#genshin smut#genshin x reader#genshin impact scenarios#genshin impact imagines#genshin impact#genshin fluff#genshin imagines#genshin impact fanfiction#genshin impact smut#genshin impact x you#kinich smut#kinich x reader#zhongli smut#zhongli x reader#neuvillette smut#neuvillette x reader#tartaglia smut#tartaglia x reader#childe smut#childe x reader#capitano x reader#capitano smut
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A Silent Kind of Love
Jason Voorhees x Reader
Summary: Jason Voorhees has only ever known fear and cruelty, until you. You don’t run. You don’t scream. Instead, you leave flowers by the lake and whisper soft words into the wind.
The world had never been kind to Jason.
He had known fear before he had even understood what it meant, seen it in the way people screamed at the sight of him, in the way they ran, in the way their eyes filled with horror as they gazed upon the monster they believed him to be.
They never looked deeper, never saw beyond the mask, beyond the scars, beyond the silence and the mask.
And then, there was you.
You weren’t supposed to be here.
Crystal Lake wasn’t a place for outsiders, not anymore.
It belonged to the ghosts, to memories, to the vengeful force that kept its borders clear of the living. But you came anyway, drawn by something you couldn’t name.
At first, Jason watched from a distance.
He had spent years in the shadows, becoming one with them, learning how to be unseen. He expected you to leave, to take one look at the abandoned cabins and whisper the same fearful stories that had kept others away. But you didn’t.
You stayed.
You walked along the lake.
And then, one day, you left something behind, a single flower, carefully placed at the edge of the water.
Jason didn’t understand at first. Was it an accident? A meaningless gesture?
But when he found another the next day, and then another, something unfamiliar started inside him.
You weren’t afraid.
You should have been.
But you spoke to him, even when he didn’t answer.
“I know you’re there.”
The first time you said it, Jason almost left.
But you didn’t chase him.
You didn’t try to find him.
You simply sat by the lake and talked, your voice gentle as you spoke of things that didn’t matter.
No one had ever spoken to him like that. No one had ever spoken to him at all.
He told himself it was nothing, that you would leave like everyone else, that you were just another momentary presence in a world that had never been meant for him.
But then, one evening, as you walked through the woods, you tripped on an exposed root, falling hard against the ground.
Jason moved before he could think.
He caught you, his hands large and unsteady, his body tense as if expecting you to recoil the moment you realized what had happened.
Your skin was warm beneath his fingers.
Too warm. Too soft.
It had been so long since he had touched another person since anyone had been this close.
He waited for you to scream, to pull away, to look at him with that same wide-eyed horror.
But you didn’t.
Instead, you exhaled, your hands bracing against his chest as you steadied yourself. And then, so gently he almost didn’t believe it, your fingers brushed against his wrist.
“Thank you,” you whispered.
Jason flinched.
Not because he was afraid, but because he didn’t know how to process something so foreign.
Kindness.
He stepped back, disappearing into the trees before he could see the look in your eyes.
But you didn’t stop leaving flowers. You didn’t stop whispering soft words into the night.
And Jason didn’t stop watching.
Days passed. Then weeks.
You were determined, and patient in a way no one had ever been with him.
Slowly, cautiously, Jason let himself be seen.
First, just shadows at the edge of your vision. Then, his figure stood farther down the shore as you sat by the water.
And then, one day, he let you approach.
He never spoke. You never asked him to.
Instead, you sat beside him, close enough that he could feel your warmth but not so close that he felt trapped.
"Do you want me to leave?" you asked one evening, your voice soft as you turned to him.
Jason knew he should nod.
That would be the right thing, the safest thing. But he didn’t.
You smiled then, something small, and it was the first time Jason wondered if maybe, just maybe, the world hadn’t been entirely cruel.
The first time you touched his mask, he stopped breathing.
It wasn’t fear. It wasn’t anger.
It was deeper, something raw.
Your fingers were careful, tracing the edges of it with curiosity, not force. And when your hand dropped away, you didn’t try to take it off.
You simply looked at him, really looked at him, as if trying to see the man beneath the legend.
“You don’t have to hide from me,” you murmured.
Jason didn’t know how to answer, so he didn’t.
But later that night, when he found himself standing by your cabin, watching the soft glow of your lantern flicker through the window, he realized something terrifying.
He didn’t want you to leave.
He didn’t want to be alone again.
And for the first time in his life, Jason Voorhees understood what it meant to love.
Not the kind of love found in whispered promises or gentle words, Jason had never known those things, never needed them.
Love, to him, was something unspoken.
It was the way he lingered near, ensuring you were safe. It was the way he stepped between you and danger without hesitation. It was the way he let you touch him, let you stay, let himself believe that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t doomed to be alone forever.
So when the day came that someone tried to take you from him—when they entered his woods with cruel laughter and careless threats—Jason didn’t hesitate.
They would not take you.
They could not.
And when it was over, when the threat was gone, Jason expected you to fear him.
Instead, you reached for his hand.
"You're not a monster," you whispered, squeezing his fingers in reassurance. "Not to me."
Jason had no words. He never did. But when he pulled you close, when he let himself feel the warmth of your body against his, when he let you hold him like he was something more than a nightmare, he knew.
You were his.
And he was yours.
No one would ever take you from him again.
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
Wattpad
/DO NOT TRANSLATE, STEAL OR REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/
#x reader#fanfiction#x female reader#jason voorhees#jason voorhees fanfic#jason voorhees x reader#jason voorhees x you#jason voorhees imagine#jason voorhees imagines#slasher short#slasher movies#slasher x reader#slasher fandom#slasher imagine#slasher imagines#slasher fluff#friday the 13th fanfiction#friday the 13th imagine#friday the 13th imagines#friday the 13th x reader#jason x reader#jason imagine#jason imagines
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new look


summary paige x fem!reader paige asks you to do her makeup for her wnba media day. masterlist.
warnings pure fluff, pet names
celestial notes i saw paige's media day and immediately needed to write a fic on it she looks tewww good, enjoy!!
“but i wanna get a new look
the fashion goes well with this kind of character” new look - misamo
you were roaming the streets of downtown dallas, treating yourself to a shopping spree, not only getting stuff for you but for your girlfriend, paige. bags full in your hands while your curly hair is moved by the wind as you are viewing the clear, blue sky, feeling the texas heat on your skin.
ever since the wnba draft, things have been moving so quickly. from the moment you heard paige's name, to her packing her items from connecticut to dallas, you felt like you haven't had room to breathe. you and paige just started moving in last week, and you decided to go shopping to get things you need for you and her
as you exited pandora after buying paige a basketball charm bracelet, you get a ring on your phone. you looked confused for a minute, but reached for you phone in your back pocket. you looked at the saved number, it was paige.
"hey babe, what's up?" you spoke softly into the phone, blushing.
you could feel paige's smile through the speaker. "hi my love. quick question?"
"i may have an answer." you teased. paige cracked a small chuckle.
"so media day is about in 3 hours. and i was wondering if you could do my makeup?" your heart almost stopped. shit, you forgot it was media day for her.
"oh, um, yeah of course paige! are you at home right now?" you asked nervously.
"uh, yeah. i got worried for a sec when i didn't see you wake up next to me until i saw your text. i'll be waiting for you, 'kay?" she sounded quiet.
"i'll be home soon in about 15 minutes, i'm leaving the plaza right now. i'll be home a soon as possible. i love you, p"
"i love you too, see you soon. bye" she hung up the phone.
you walked to the parking the parking lot and unlocked your car. you put all the bags in the trunk, excited to see paige's excitement for some of the gifts you got her. you entered the car and turned on the engine while playing your daily playlist.
you loved driving or just sitting in your car. if you could drive for hours and hours non-stop, you would. it was just the steering wheel, seat, speakers, you and your thoughts. you observed the scenery. flowers were blooming of all colors and all kinds. lilies, tulips, roses, daisies. your favorite flowers were pink roses, and paige's were purple tulips. it made you smile when you saw both flower bushes together, reminded you of each other and your love. you loved crossing over the bridge, seeing the water glimmering from the sky above, reflecting on your eyes.
you eventually arrived home to you and paige's small apartment. keys jingled after you grabbed them from your purse. you unlocked the door and shouted loud enough for paige to hear as you were greeted by the scent of a floral candle burning. "p, i'm home!"
"hi baby." paige walked from the bedroom to the family room, greeting you with a kiss on the lips and a hug. "i missed you this morning."
you pulled your sunglasses off of you face and placed them at the top of your head. "i miss you too babe. i had to run some errands this morning for us." you looked at paige for a second. "are you gonna change first or do you wanna do your makeup first?"
paige took a second to think. "do my makeup first. my uniform's white and i don't wanna get it dirty."
"i'm surprised you were actually thinking." you teased back, smiling.
paige was walking to the bedroom, as you heard a "shut up."
you grabbed your and paige's makeup bag and brushes. "do you want to use my makeup or yours?"
she sat down on the big fluffy chair at your vanity, as the bright light blinded her when she turned the mirror on. she blocked her eyes for a quick second. "your the expert. i don't really wear makeup, just occasionally."
you grabbed your hello kitty hair clips and placed them in her dirty-blonde hair. she smiled when she saw them. "they're purple."
"i know, that's why i'm using them just for you." you smile as you place the other hair clip on her head. "baby since you don't really wear makeup, do you wan't something plain and natural?" paige looked up. "yeah, that would be nice." now, it was time for you to do your magic.
you grabbed your elf hydrogrip primer, squeezing a few pumps into your hands, then spreading it all over paige's face. paige's face was silky smooth for the most part. she had a few acne scars, but she didn't really have time to care. you scattered through her makeup bag to find foundation that was almost empty. you looked at paige, "for someone who doesn't really wear makeup, why is this almost gone?"
you grabbed a foundation brush. you pumped the foundation with the little drops left, you were still able to get something from the bottle. you blended the foundation along her face, making it seem like she never even had foundation on. she looked like she had been caught doing something she wasn't supposed to. "you know when brittney styles me, they also do my makeup. thats where it comes from."
you smiled at her. "okay, whatever floats your boat." you picked up a beauty sponge and placed concealer under her eyelids. you gently pat the makeup with the sponge to help it spread evenly under her eyes. even though you were paige's girlfriend and you were doing her makeup, she looked beautiful without it to you. its what made her stand out.
next step was contour. after every step, paige looked amazed. when you grabbed an item, she would ask you "oh whats this for?" like a little kid discovering a hobby for the first time. you looked at paige while grabbing the contour. "p, you should tan this summer. texas heat will get you looking tan in no time." she started laughing. "me? in a tan? baby you're insane, no matter why i'm so in love with you."
your favorite step, blush. you were 100% blush blind when it came to your makeup, but you needed to tone it down for paige. you grabbed a fluffy blush brush and grabbed your peachy pink blush. you got some blush and told paige to smile, explaining you were placing the pigment on the apples of your cheeks. she started looking directly at you. "paige you're distracting me." she smirked as you were still applying the blush. "its just the effect i have on you."
you decided to put setting powder on paige's face, as it would help set her face and prevent from sweating later in the day. you grabbed a powder puff and dipped it in the white setting powder. "you know what i've been thinking about recently baby?" you look at paige, giving her a "hm?"
"how the media hates it when i dress so masculine. it's like they they want every woman to be feminine. i like being both and switching based off my mood. like today i felt feminine, that's why i asked you to do my makeup."
you nodded in agreement. "don't let them get to you. its just them and their own bullshit standards." you patted paige's face with the powder puff. "when you show whatever side to me, just know i love you for you." paige took a deep breath. "i know. thanks babe."
a few minutes later and lots of makeup steps, you curled paige's lashes and placed a thin layer of mascara, then applying setting spray so her makeup wouldn't move throughout the day. you grabbed your lipgloss, applying it on your lips before letting paige see the finished look. paige looked intrigued. "can i have some lipgloss baby?"
you gave a slight smile and placed a slight peck on paige's lips. "i found an opportunity and took it." paige looked annoyed, even though she did enjoy the quick gesture you gave her. "fine" you sighed in defeat.
you applied the light pink lipgloss to her already rosy lips. "i wasn't putting lipliner on you. they always do you dirty with it." she looked puzzled. "whose they?"
"the people who do your makeup for photoshoots." you finished, telling paige to smack her lips together. "you wanna see?"
she nodded, excitedly. you handed paige a handheld mirror. the way you saw her eyes light up and sparkle the moment she saw herself, you knew she'd like it. "babe.... you did so good. you need to be my makeup artist from now on."
paige placed the mirror down and looked at her and you in the vanity. you gave her a hug from behind, placing your arms around her neck. she gave a kiss to your arms as she turned around in the chair. "thanks baby." she stood up, you gave paige a kiss on her cheek as she walked to the closet. "now go get changed and curl your hair. you're gonna look so good."
#dallas wings#paige bueckers#paige bueckers x reader#uconn wbb#uconn womens basketball#wnba#paige bueckers fluff#paige bueckers smut#paige bueckers x you#paige x reader
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red n lacy
wc: 1.8k content warning: established relationship, kuroo x reader, smut, fingering n eating, vaginal, not proofread
ゐ ˚ ◌ .
kuroo's one of many surprises—especially with his gifts. valentine’s day, you already know he doesn’t play around.
ding dong~
creaking open the door, the slim sliver of light peeking through and growing larger the moment you saw a pair of familiar eyes behind the thin wood that separated you from the outside.
it was no other than kuroo, your beloved boyfriend early in the morning, looking all cheeky and too happy... overall he's come over to celebrate the day of love with you.
looking behind the door, now you knew why. kuroo came over with your favorite flowers in hand and a little basket that consisted of your favorite snacks, a cute little animal plushie… and a wrapped present?
"oh tetsu, you're too sweet" you responded, his smile being too contagious.
kuroo giggled when you praised him for his kind gesture of love, kissing him on the lips to greet him and opening the door wider to invite him in.
as you’re setting the gifts on the table, kuroo fetches a little vase to grab some water for the flowers. when he’s finished putting the flowers in the vase full of water, he’s stepping closer to embrace you in a warm and tight hug from behind.
his large hands are gripping your waist nice and snuggly as your hands find his that lingers around your torso. looking up, he’s biting his bottom lip with his eyes slightly squinted.
“well..? Are you gonna open the little present i bought? it was hand picked by me,” kuroo says after landing a peck on your forehead, his arms making their way to hold onto your shoulders.
“if you let me go, maybe i will,” you laughed, obviously you still wanted to be in his arms despite how he put his arms down quite quickly which made you wonder what he really bought you if it was "hand-picked."
picking up the box, you’re shaking it—listening to figure out what type of gift could be in it. it was a slender thin box, there wasn’t much noise to make just from shaking it around.
tearing at the wrapping paper from the side, the box is a simple white box that was able to slide out. realizing this, you immediately slide it open.
kuroo’s watching with eagerness, full attention on you, waiting to see your reaction to what could be inside.
one quick movement, you exactly understand why he was acting so lovey-dovey and excited. your eyes are wide open in complete shock.
red stringy, lacy lingerie.
“soooo…. what do you think?” kuroo said behind you in a low and seductive tone to make his intentions extra clear.
“you are so devious” rolling your eyes with a cheeky smile on your face while you’re holding up the lingerie to inspect its flawlessly sewn details.
"shall i try it on?" you teased, walking with the box in hand to go change in your room.
kuroo doesn't say a thing but bites his lower lip in anticipation. he's already envisioned what you'd look like in it when he was shopping around, but now he gets to see the real deal. just thinking about it made his cock sprung and throb against his suffocating pants.
right when you finished putting the straps in the right place and taking a look in the mirror to make sure everything's hooked on, kuroo's knocking on your bedroom door in desperation. he needs to see you in this, at least that's what his cock's telling him.
"can I come in yettt..." kuroo's voice humming against the door in neediness, like a cat scratching the door waiting for its owner.
unlocking the door, this time his eyes are completely glowing in amazement. this was much better than his imagination, you just turned into his fantasy.
"holy shit. you're fucking gorgeous" were the only words Kuroo spurted out the moment his beady eyes laid on you.
all of the straps lay perfectly against your skin. the wired part of the bra gave you the right amount of cushion and support to hold up your breasts that screamed bombshell. the lace made it all the more arousing on kuroo's part as it hugged your hips just in the right areas, even the lower parts. All he wanted to do was tear it off of you in the moment.
"well, you picked the right pair" you said as you walked over to put your hands over his shoulders.
this was driving kuroo nuts. the intimate eye contact you two exchanged was more than he needed to know what was going to happen next as your lips already made the first move.
the kiss was sweet and so hot that it made you crazy. tou couldn't bring yourself to stop the whole time as you gave your whole being into it. kuroo wasn't playing either, he couldn't take himself off of you. as you're making out, he's fondling with your ass and making you step back till you reach the end of your bed.
his hands feel so good to the point it made your head spin, from your jaw to your semi-exposed breasts, waist and ass. kuroo's feral to the point he has to rip himself off of you to get a moment's fresh air as the air between you two was getting heated real quick.
during that time for a breather, his lips are still stuck onto you whether or not it was on your lips. kuroo's on your neck, leaving his marks on your skin that glowed against the red lingerie he picked. kuroo's kisses and pecks move lower as you watch in impatience.
on his knees as you sat in front of him, hands on your knees—spreading them open forcefully as you gasped breathlessly in excitement.
his thumb's on your little bud, swirling slow circles into the fabric that made you feel good but only to an extent. there he laid his hot mouth on your inner thighs, biting and leaving his traces that made you want to grab his messy head of hair.
you can't help but feel like you need more. lips pressed, lowering your hand, you used your fingers to move your panties to the side for him to have easier access to fulfill your lustful needs. there kuroo was making direct contact with your sopping cunt that's been leaking the moment you saw him appear at your door.
"ha.. you're too cute" kuroo chuckled before digging in which caused you to whimper as his hot tongue makes contact with your clit, also slipping in two fingers into your entrance.
kuroo's absolutely feasting down there, lapping and cleaning up all the juices you produced despite how all the friction and sensation made you even wetter. Not to mention how kuroo's long and thick fingers are making their way to find your sweet spot as your legs shake.
his other hand's working on the upper part of your body, feeling all your dimensions and soothing your poor and trembling body beneath him. you can't help but crave more of him.
"tetsuu.. i want you to put it inn" pouting as you pushed his head off of your cunt that was glistening in slick, the bottom half of his face covered in your essence.
"course i will babe" he huffed in confidence while licking his lips and fixed his hair.
his hot ass girlfriend being this needy in the red lacy underwear, pussy right in his face begging for him to put it in. what a sight.
getting up on his feet, kuroo unbuckles his belt while gazing at your half-lidded eyes and bare body that called out for his touch. his cock sprung out the moment he took off his pants, excited and eager to enter your plush and warm cunt. stroking it as he aligned himself with your slit, collecting your essence on himself for a smoother entrance before diving right in.
you're watching impatiently, placing your hands under his fitted black shirt that shows his lean stature. he's teasing you at this point, sliding his tip up and down your slit, feeling all over but not in you, rocking your hips to subside the horniness you felt.
"fuuuck, so tight" kuroo purred while his tip slid right in, making you moan upon entry while you gripped onto him.
"more tetsu.. put it all in" you whimpered as you helped him take off his shirt, showing his delicious body that made your mouth drool.
once kuroo was all in, he gradually got rougher and faster, giving you exactly what you needed to catch your release. kuroo did not play when it came to giving, as his hands had the tightest handle on your waist as he continuously thrust into your sopping cunt that wanted even him even more.
the skin on skin slapping made your bedroom echo throughout your moans that mixed in the air that smelled like sex. your two hot bodies melted together in the heat as you got fucked in many different positions that made you two go feral as if you were dogs in heat.
kuroo gave no mercy, as you begged for more. watching your tits bounce at high frequency in that red bra made his mouth drool even more as your cunt squeezed around his girth that pulsated in you. the heat absolutely pools in your nether regions and builds up the more he pounded into your sweet spot, making you scream his name in high pitch.
your back arched off the mattress, legs in the air shaking with ecstasy while kuroo's leaving his marks all over your body despite his cock bullying its way into you. hands around his broad shoulders while he's hovering over you, overstimulated with the crazy amount of stamina kuroo has to keep going.
"m'gonna cum t-tetsu" you babbled, resisting the unbearable pleasure to tell him.
"m'kay" his slightly swollen lips whispered in your ear before planting a kiss on your hot cheek.
his rhythm slowed down, pumping his cock slowly as he drowns you in his kisses waiting for you to cum. the change in pace made you feel the pleasure even more as he's rubbing all your sensitive points slowly. it was like a rope about to snap as you gasped when you reached your climax.
"you okay, babe?" taking his cock out that was completely covered in your milky essence.
nodding your head as grabbed him closer to kiss, he's stroking his dick to finish himself off. kuroo's kiss got sloppier the more he got closer, moving his lips down your jaw and away from your shining body.
you watched with sleepy eyes for him to cum as he progressively got faster until he shot out his thick and white seed onto you. his head snapped back, eyes shut, feeling all the sensations while releasing his load, covering your body that wore nothing but his red lingerie. looking back, he sees his mistake.
"shit, i'm sorry.. i just came all over the set i got you. i guess i'm gonna have to get you another one" kuroo chuckled tiredly.
masterlist here
#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu time skip#haikyuu headcanons#haikyuu smut#haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader#smut#haikyu#haikyū!!#haikyuu kuro#haikyu imagines#haikyu fic#haikyu smut#haikyu x you#haikyu x y/n#haikyu x kuroo#haikyu kuroo#haikyu timeskip#haikyu scenarios#haikyuu kuroo#kuroo tetsurou#haikyuu x you#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu kuroo smut#haikyuu kuro tetsuro#haikyuu kuro tetsurou#kuro tetsuro#tetsuro kuroo
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