#I can’t talk about him without blushing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

alittlegiraffe · 1 day ago

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Title: "No Competition"

The afternoon started like most lazy summer Saturdays at the house—Royce with his feet kicked up on the deck railing, Denaun halfway through a cigar and Marshall glued to your side like he didn’t just see you all morning.

The guys had been talking big game all day. First about music, then basketball, then—for some reason—bedroom stamina.

"I swear to God," Denaun said, pointing his beer at Royce, "you ain't never gonna outlast me. I'll put money on it. I got staying power."

Royce choked on his drink, laughing. "Man, you barely got power walkin’ up the stairs."

"You hear this disrespect, Marshall?"

Marshall, lazily stroking your thigh where you were curled up next to him, smirked without looking up. “Y’all been talkin’ like you invented sex for the last hour. I’m just tryin’ to hang out with my wife without listenin’ to y’all gas yourselves up.”

Royce leaned forward, eyes twinkling. “Actually, that’s a good point. Since she’s here—” He grinned at you. “We should get a vote.”

You immediately stiffened. “A vote?”

“Yeah,” Denaun said, leaning in, ever the instigator. “You’re the only person here who knows what kinda game he has. And I’m curious...”

You looked up at him warily. “Curious about what?”

“C’mon,” Denaun grinned wickedly. “Tommy or Marshall?”

The air shifted slightly. You felt Marshall’s hand go still on your leg.

Your eyes narrowed. “Are you serious?”

Royce grinned like a kid about to watch a fight at recess. “Very serious. I mean, Tommy talked like he invented the female orgasm.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “He talked like he invented a lot of things.”

Marshall snorted under his breath, biting back a smug smile.

Denaun nudged your shoulder. “So? Who was better in bed?”

You covered your face, already blushing. “Why would you ask me that?!”

“‘Cause we grew up with you. We knew Tommy. He was annoying as hell and bragged constantly. I just wanna know if it was all talk.”

You groaned, sinking further into Marshall’s side, trying to disappear.

Royce laughed. “Aww, she’s embarrassed. That’s not a good sign for Tommy.”

“Oh my God.” You muffled your voice against Marshall’s hoodie. “Can we please talk about something else?”

“Not until you answer,” Denaun said, dragging out the tease like he lived for this. “This is important cultural information, Mrs. Mathers.”

Marshall didn’t say anything—just turned to you slowly with that dangerous little half-smile, clearly enjoying your discomfort.

You sighed hard. “There’s no competition.”

The silence was immediate, then all hell broke loose.

“NO COMPETITION?!” Royce hollered.

Denaun doubled over laughing. “Daaaamn! Tommy died somewhere and didn’t know why!”

You held up your hands, face redder than ever. “I didn’t say that to roast him—”

“Oh, no no no,” Royce interrupted. “You definitely roasted him.”

Denaun leaned in again, voice low and conspiratorial. “But like… really? He couldn’t make you—?”

You looked at him flatly. “He tried.”

“Tried?” Royce echoed, howling.

“I hate all of you.”

Marshall was dead silent beside you, but you could feel the smug energy radiating off of him like the sun.

Finally, he spoke—voice low, proud, and cocky. “Damn right there’s no competition.”

You smacked his chest lightly. “Don’t be an ass.”

He shrugged. “Can’t help it. You just made me MVP in front of the team.”

Denaun grinned. “He really the only one who ever made you cum?”

You closed your eyes. “I’m not answering that.”

“Except you already did,” Royce said, cracking up.

You groaned. “Tommy had a great jawline. That’s all I can say.”

Royce clapped his hands. “I knew it! All that talk and no follow-through!”

“Like a basketball player who can’t shoot,” Denaun nodded solemnly.

Marshall finally leaned in and kissed the side of your head, murmuring just loud enough for you to hear, “That’s my girl.”

“You’re all children.”

“You love it,” he said, eyes full of heat even as he chuckled along with the other two.

And—god help you—you really did.

---

The house was finally quiet.

Royce had gone home. Denaun had left after another hour of dragging Tommy’s ghost through the dirt. And now it was just you and Marshall—your legs across his lap on the couch, the room dim and golden.

He hadn’t said much since they left. Just sat there with that little smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. You were pretending to read something on your phone, but your heart hadn’t calmed down since earlier.

You knew that look.

He hadn’t forgotten what you said.

"That true?" he asked suddenly, voice low and deep.

You glanced up. "What?"

He tilted his head, eyes locked on yours. "That I’m the only one who’s ever made you cum."

You squirmed. "You heard me say it."

"Yeah, but I wanna hear you say it again," he murmured, leaning in so close you felt the heat of his breath on your lips. “Just for me.”

You set your phone down. “It’s true.”

Marshall’s hand slid up your thigh, slow and purposeful. “Say it.”

You swallowed, eyes fluttering as his fingers slipped under the hem of your shorts. “You’re the only one who’s ever made me cum, Marshall.”

His jaw clenched like he was holding something back—pride, need, hunger.

“Fuckin’ right I am,” he growled, standing suddenly and scooping you up like you weighed nothing.

You laughed in surprise as he carried you toward the bedroom. “You know I didn’t say it for points, right?”

He kicked the door shut behind him, setting you gently on the bed before crawling over you, all heat and muscle and command. “Nah, baby, I know you said it ‘cause it’s real.”

He leaned down, kissing you slow—so slow it made your toes curl. “But you said it in front of them. And I ain’t gonna let that go unrewarded.”

You shivered, feeling his hands on your thighs, pushing them apart like he owned them. Because he did.

"Take these off." His voice left no room for argument. "Want my girl bare for me."

You obeyed without hesitation, stripping off your shorts and underwear, breath catching as he settled between your legs.

He looked up at you with dark, reverent eyes. “Gonna remind you why nobody else ever even came close.”

Then his mouth was on you.

Hot, slow, devastating. His tongue knew every inch of you—every flick, every rhythm, every pressure point that made your back arch and your fingers claw at the sheets.

He held your hips down like you were trying to escape—which you weren’t—but he didn’t want you to move. Not until he said so.

"You’re gonna cum for me, baby," he murmured against your skin, voice ragged. “And then you’re gonna do it again. 'Cause it’s mine. This pretty pussy—this whole fuckin’ body—it’s mine.”

You cried out, clenching your thighs around his head, but he didn’t stop. He never stopped until he had what he wanted.

And what he wanted was you—shaking, moaning his name, fingers tangled in his hair as you came hard against his mouth.

He didn’t even give you a second to catch your breath. He crawled up your body, kissing you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue before whispering in your ear:

“Still think about how that loser couldn’t even make my girl cum. That shit haunts him, I know it.”

You whimpered as he lined himself up, already hard and aching.

"Say it again," he ordered, voice gravel.

You looked up at him, breathless. “You’re the only one who’s ever made me cum.”

His lips curved into a dark, possessive grin.

“Damn right.”

And then he thrust in deep—and claimed every inch of you all over again.

---

The sunlight streamed through the kitchen windows the next morning, catching the dust motes in the air as you stood by the counter, trying to mind your business and butter a piece of toast.

But of course, Marshall was leaning against the opposite counter—arms crossed, hoodie hanging off his frame, eyes glued to you like you were still naked and spread out under him.

He hadn’t said anything yet. Just kept smirking, sipping his coffee slow.

You sighed. “What?”

“Nothin’,” he said innocently. “Just thinkin’ about how good you sounded last night. Real loud. Desperate.”

You froze, knife mid-spread. “Marshall.”

“What?” he chuckled. “You were. Beggin’ me. Again.”

You turned, cheeks already hot. “That’s supposed to be private.”

He pushed off the counter and walked over, crowding your space just a little, just enough to make your knees wobble. His voice dropped, only for you.

“Tellin’ everyone I’m the only one who’s ever made you cum? You made it public, baby.”

You squinted up at him, a little breathless despite yourself. “You’re still on this?”

“Oh, I’ll be on this forever.” He leaned in close to your ear, voice like gravel. “You belong to me. Every sound you make, every time you fall apart, that shit’s mine.”

You were about to retort—but the front door creaked open and Royce’s voice echoed through the house.

“Yo! I left my sunglasses here last night—don’t mind me!”

You immediately tried to step back from Marshall, but he just smirked and tightened his grip on your hips, pretending like nothing was happening.

“Kitchen, man,” he called out lazily.

Royce walked in, glanced at the two of you, and immediately grinned. “Damn, you still got her blushing? What’d I miss?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to play it cool. “Nothing.”

“Bullshit,” Royce said, grabbing his sunglasses off the counter. “I can feel the smug in the air.”

Marshall grinned, wicked and satisfied. “Still thinkin’ about Tommy, man.”

Royce cracked up immediately. “You’re unbelievable.”

You groaned. “Please. Let the man rest.”

But Marshall turned to you with a look that was all heat and challenge, dropping his voice again just for your ears.

"Go ahead. Defend him. Tell me he ever got you off."

You snorted, face burning, trying not to laugh. “He didn’t. But to be fair... neither did I.”

Royce blinked. “Wait, what?”

You covered your face. “I mean—I tried. Before Marshall. I just... couldn’t. Nothing ever worked.”

Royce made a damn face and Marshall looked like you’d just handed him a gold medal.

“You hear that?” he said, slinging an arm around you. “Even she couldn’t do it. I’m out here settin’ fuckin’ records.”

Royce was howling now, doubled over. “Yo, Tommy somewhere losing his mind right now. This is so much worse than I thought.”

You rolled your eyes and shoved Marshall off. “You guys are the worst.”

Marshall just pulled you right back, arm locked tight around your waist, grinning down at you like you were the greatest thing he’d ever touched.

“But I’m the best, baby. Don’t forget that.”

You looked up at him, eyes soft despite yourself. “Oh, believe me. My body never lets me forget.”

His mouth brushed your temple as Royce kept laughing behind you, and he whispered against your skin:

“Good. ‘Cause you’re never gettin’ off unless I say so.”

And something about the way he said it—low, certain, loving—made your knees go just a little weak.

---

It started as a joke.

Or at least, you thought it would be.

After dinner, while Marshall was busy in the studio upstairs, you ran a bath. Lit a candle. Let the warm water soothe your sore legs from the night before—he’d really earned his victory lap, after all.

And then, just to prove a point (and maybe to feel a little smug yourself), you decided to test that theory.

He said you couldn’t get yourself off without him?

Please.

You could, technically. It had just been a while. Right?

So, you slid lower in the water, let your hand wander... eyes closed, breath soft, trying to focus. Trying to remember the rhythm that worked for you once upon a time.

But the more you tried, the more obvious it became: it wasn’t working.

Your body wasn’t interested in your hand, or your memories, or the cheap thrill of fantasy.

Your body wanted him.

And, of course, that was exactly the moment the bathroom door cracked open.

You froze.

Marshall stepped in casually, hoodie slung over one shoulder, head tilted. “You good in here?”

Your eyes shot open. “Y-Yeah. Just relaxing.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Really? That what we’re callin’ it?”

You swallowed as he stepped closer, eyes dropping to where your thighs were still slightly parted under the water. And then... that smirk.

"Baby," he murmured, crouching beside the tub, voice low and amused. "Were you tryin’ to cheat on me with your own fingers?"

Your cheeks burned. “I was just—trying to see if I still could.”

He chuckled, dragging his knuckles along your damp knee. “And?”

You scowled. “It doesn’t mean anything if I couldn’t, Marshall.”

“Mm.” His eyes glittered. “I think it means everything.”

Then he stood up and jerked his chin. “C’mon. Out.”

You blinked. “What?”

“Outta the tub, baby. You wanna test theories? Let’s really test ‘em.”

Your stomach flipped. Instinctively, you obeyed, standing slowly and letting him wrap you in a towel—his hands lingering on your skin, firm and possessive.

He led you straight to the bedroom.

Didn’t even bother pretending this was gonna be gentle.

You barely made it onto the mattress before he was on you—pushing you down, hands pinning your wrists over your head, mouth hovering just over yours.

“You don’t get to touch yourself,” he said, voice low and firm. “Not unless I say. You understand me?”

You nodded, breath caught in your throat.

"Good. Because now you don’t get to cum either. Not until I decide you’ve learned your fuckin’ lesson."

And then he started teasing you.

His mouth between your thighs, his hands holding your hips down as you writhed, cried, begged—but every time you got close, he pulled away. Smirking. Watching you lose your mind.

“Feels different, doesn’t it?” he murmured, kissing up your trembling inner thigh. “Feels real. Because it’s me.”

Your voice cracked. “Please, Marshall…”

“You wanna cum so bad, huh? Should’ve waited for the one person who knows how to make you.”

He edged you right up to the peak again—held you there—and then denied you, leaving you a frustrated, aching mess beneath him.

Tears welled in your eyes from the sheer intensity, your whole body buzzing with need. You felt like a live wire, too strung out to breathe.

Finally—when he was satisfied that you couldn’t possibly come for anyone else, including yourself—he flipped you onto your stomach, dragged your hips up, and slid into you deep and hard.

Your scream was muffled in the pillows, your whole body shuddering at the stretch, the pressure, the heat.

“Now,” he growled into your ear, thrusting slow and rough, “you thank me for makin’ you wait.”

You sobbed out, “Thank you—thank you—oh my God—”

“That’s it,” he growled. “My good girl. You wanna cum? You ask.”

“Please,” you gasped. “Please let me—”

“You mine?”

“Yes!”

“You ever gonna try that shit again?”

You shook your head frantically, nearly undone. “No—never—only you, Marshall—only you—”

And that was all it took.

He let go of your wrists, gripped your hips tight, and finally let you fall—hard, fast, cataclysmic—into release, your orgasm ripping through you like a wave too big to fight.

Marshall followed right after, spilling into you with a deep groan, his weight sinking over your back, his arms wrapping around your middle possessively as you both trembled through it.

When he finally rolled you onto your side, kissing your temple and brushing damp hair from your face, you were boneless and breathless.

“That prove the theory for you, baby?” he murmured.

You couldn’t even speak.

Just nodded.

He grinned and pulled you in tighter. “Damn right it did.”

---

The next morning, you made your decision while pouring coffee, still sore between your thighs and glowing with the aftermath of the night before.

Marshall had already brought it up again—this time in front of Denaun, who’d shown up to borrow some gear and stayed for breakfast.

“So,” Marshall said with an unmistakably smug grin as he handed Denaun a plate, “my girl tried to cheat on me last night.”

Your head whipped up. “Marshall—”

Denaun choked on his eggs. “What?!”

“She tried to get herself off,” Marshall said, slouching back in his chair, “but guess who still can’t finish without me?”

You nearly spit out your coffee. “You’re ridiculous.”

But Denaun was cackling. “You serious? Still? That is so tragic for every man she knew before you.”

You narrowed your eyes, slow-sipping your coffee, cheeks hot. “You’re awfully cocky for someone who hasn’t gotten any today.”

Marshall just smirked.

But later, as the house emptied and you cleaned up, you made a little vow to yourself: if he wants to act smug, let’s see how long he lasts when I don’t let him touch.

You started slow. Sweet. Subtle.

When he pulled you into his lap while you were on the couch that night, you kissed him deep—tongue soft, breathy sounds in his mouth—and then… pulled away.

When he tried again later, hand slipping under your shirt, you whispered, “Not tonight, baby,” and smiled all sweet and innocent as you rolled over to sleep.

Day one? He didn’t flinch.

Day two, he raised an eyebrow when you slid your hand over his thigh while watching a movie… then yanked it away before it reached anywhere fun.

“You bein’ a brat?” he murmured against your ear.

You just grinned and shrugged. “Maybe I’m just proving a point. You’re not the only one with self-control.”

“Oh yeah?” he said. “Cool. Let’s see how long that lasts.”

But you forgot who you were playing with.

By day three, he changed the game.

He stopped trying to break you.

Instead… he just made himself impossible to resist.

It started with him walking around the house in nothing but grey joggers. No shirt. No boxers. Low waistband. Dangerously low. He was all toned abs, tattoos, sleepy eyes, and slow stretches in doorways.

When you passed through the kitchen, he brushed your lower back. Not your ass—just the curve that led to it. Possessive, casual. Electric.

He’d whisper things like, “Need help reaching that?” and stand close enough that your body felt surrounded in heat.

You started squirming at the smallest touches—his hand sliding over your stomach while you did the dishes. His thigh pressing against yours on the couch.

But he didn’t try anything. He didn’t kiss you. Didn’t ask.

He just looked.

Watched you start to unravel in the silence he left behind.

On day four, you found him in the laundry room folding clothes. Shirtless. Hips low and loose in those fucking joggers. Muscles flexing.

“You’re really folding underwear half-naked now?” you muttered.

He didn’t even look up. “Just tryna help around the house, babe.”

You crossed your arms. “You’re playing dirty.”

He raised an eyebrow slowly. “Nah. You started the game. I’m just finishing it.”

You turned on your heel and left before you gave in.

But that night in bed, he pulled you into his arms like always—his chest against your back, hand splayed low across your stomach.

And he didn’t move it. Didn’t try. Just breathed against your neck, warm and steady, until your thighs pressed together and your body ached from holding back.

"You sleepin' okay, baby?" he whispered in the dark.

You nearly whimpered. "No."

He kissed your shoulder. “Huh. Weird.”

You didn’t sleep at all.

---

By day five, you were hanging on by a thread.

Marshall had stopped teasing verbally altogether. No comments. No jabs. No smugness. Just slow, silent touches that felt innocent on the surface but always lingered too long. And those joggers—those fucking joggers—he wore them like armor. Like bait.

You were soaked constantly. Clenching around nothing in the middle of the day. You couldn’t sit on the couch without thinking about straddling him. Couldn’t lie in bed without twitching every time he shifted behind you.

So when he came out of the shower that night, towel slung low on his hips, damp curls pushed back, water dripping down his chest…

You snapped.

You followed him into the bedroom, heart pounding, thighs already slick.

“Marshall,” you said quietly.

He turned, brows raised. “Yeah, baby?”

Your mouth went dry. “I—I give up.”

He tilted his head, playing dumb. “On what?”

You stepped closer, fingers twitching with restraint. “The game. You win.”

Still pretending not to get it, he crossed his arms. “What game?”

You exhaled, shaky. “I need you. I can’t take it anymore.”

Something dark flickered in his eyes. That’s when you knew he wasn’t surprised—you hadn’t fooled him for a second.

But instead of pulling you in, instead of rewarding your surrender, he sat down on the edge of the bed and spread his legs wide.

“Good,” he said calmly. “Then get on your knees.”

Your stomach dropped.

You blinked. “What?”

He leaned back on his hands, eyes locked on yours. “You wanna cum so bad? Then you’re gonna earn it. Like a good girl.”

You swallowed.

Hard.

But your knees hit the floor fast.

“Take it out,” he said, voice low. “Nice and slow. Show me how desperate you really are.”

You fumbled with the towel, hands shaking, and his cock was already half-hard—thick, heavy, the source of all your torment these last five days.

You wrapped your fingers around him, and his jaw flexed, a subtle reaction that only made your arousal spike.

He let you stroke him slowly, letting out a soft groan as you leaned in and took him into your mouth, lips wrapping around him with need you couldn’t hide.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he breathed, hand sliding into your hair. “Look how fuckin’ needy you are. Finally learned your lesson?”

You moaned around him, nodding, cheeks flushed.

He tugged your head back, wet strands of saliva still connecting your lips to his cock. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want to cum,” you whispered. “Please, Marshall. Please—no more teasing. I need you.”

“Need me?” he repeated, eyes narrowing. “Or need what I do to you?”

“Both,” you whimpered.

He stood suddenly, pulling you up by the wrist, flipping you around until your chest hit the mattress and your ass was in the air. You gasped, pulse thundering.

“Since you forgot who this belongs to,” he said, sliding two fingers through your soaked folds without warning, “I think you need to prove you deserve it.”

You whimpered at the contact—his fingers circling your clit but never applying pressure. “I do,” you said, breathless. “Please. I do.”

“You gonna ask next time before you take somethin’ that’s mine?” he growled into your ear, hips pressing against yours.

“Yes,” you choked.

“You gonna remember who fuckin’ owns your orgasms?”

“Yes, Marshall.”

And then—finally—he slid into you with one slow, punishing thrust.

Your scream was immediate, muffled in the sheets, your body giving out from the sheer relief of being filled.

He didn’t let up.

He fucked you hard and slow, one hand fisted in your hair, the other gripping your hip tight.

Every time you clenched around him, every time your moans turned into sobs, he praised you.

“That’s my girl. Taking it so good now, huh?”

“You like that? Being used by the only man who knows how to break you?”

“You think your fingers could ever fuckin’ replace me?”

“No,” you sobbed. “Never—never again.”

When you finally came, it hit you like a freight train—your body shaking, vision white, mouth open in a silent scream. Marshall followed with a loud groan, hips buried deep, holding you close as his release spilled into you.

He kissed your shoulder after, soft and slow, like he hadn’t just ruined you.

“Feel better now, baby?” he whispered.

You let out a whimper, your whole body limp.

He chuckled, curling around you, smug and affectionate. “Told you from the start,” he murmured against your neck. “You don’t cum unless I say so.”

---

You were wrong.

Something shifted in you after last night. The kind of deep, body-wired surrender that didn’t just go away by morning. Your limbs felt heavy with afterglow. Your skin burned for more of his hands even when he was sitting right beside you.

And worse? You couldn’t stop touching him.

You tried. You tried to sit still on the couch while Royce sat across from you and Marshall answered something casual about a tour date. But your leg kept brushing Marshall’s. Then your hand drifted onto his thigh. Then his hoodie sleeve. Then your fingers slid around his wrist like your body didn’t care what your brain was saying.

And Marshall?

Oh, he noticed.

He didn’t say a damn word. But his hand dropped to your knee and stayed there, slow strokes up your thigh under your oversized shirt. His thumb moved in lazy circles. Not enough to be obvious. Just enough to keep you on edge.

You leaned into him a little harder. Closer. Like gravity had shifted and he was the only solid thing in the room.

Royce paused midsentence.

“You two good?”

Marshall didn’t even look up. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

Royce squinted. “I dunno, man. She’s been glued to your side all morning like you shot heroin into her bloodstream.”

You flushed immediately. “What?!”

Royce held up his hands, grinning. “Not judging. Just saying—something happened. Did you put a tracking chip in her or something?”

Marshall finally looked up. Calm. Lazy. But his hand squeezed your thigh under the fabric of your shirt, just enough to make your breath hitch.

“Didn’t have to,” he said, eyes locked on Royce. “She just remembers where she belongs.”

You swallowed hard.

Royce stared for a second, then burst out laughing. “Oh my God. You finally broke her.”

You scowled, tugging your sleeve over your hand. “I’m fine.”

“Uh-huh,” Royce said, cocking a brow. “Except for how you look like you just got dicked into a religious awakening.”

Marshall’s hand tightened on your leg. Possessive. Gentle. Warning.

“She’s fine,” he said, low and smooth. “Just a little sore. That’s all.”

Your face exploded with heat.

Royce cackled like a demon. “Okay, yeah, I’m gonna go. I’ve seen enough of that look to last a lifetime.”

You tried to burrow into Marshall’s side to escape the teasing. He let you. Arm sliding around your waist, lips brushing your temple.

“You need me to walk you out?” Marshall said casually, still cradling you like you were breakable.

“Nah,” Royce smirked, already heading to the door. “I think your girl needs the attention more than I do.”

Once the door clicked shut, you groaned and covered your face. “He’s never gonna let that go.”

Marshall leaned into your ear. “Neither am I.”

You peeked up at him, still buried in his chest. “You’re so smug.”

“You’re so mine,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Look at you. Can’t stop touching me. Can’t sit five feet away without whimpering.”

“I wasn’t whimpering—”

“Baby,” he murmured. “You nearly crawled into my lap mid-conversation.”

You glared weakly. “It’s your fault.”

He smiled wide. “Damn right it is.”

You didn’t say anything after that—just curled up tighter into his arms while he held you against him, warm and solid and grounding.

And you knew, deep down, that this wasn’t over.

He’d just started making sure you remembered exactly who you belonged to.

#eminem #marshall mathers #eminem x reader #marshall mathers x reader #eminem smut #smut

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dioslesbianwife · 2 days ago

Note

i JUST had a bg3 and jjba crossover idea and i checked your blog and saw requests were open… the stars aligned.

ANYWAYS!!! id love 2 see the jofoes (w all the pillarmen if you’d be so kind) reacting to a half-illithid reader (as in they have the effect and abilities given by the astral tadpole offered by the emperor) 💕. veins and all <3

agh i just started another bg3 playthrough last night lol so this is perfect haha- hope you enjoy and thank you for requesting!

Kars

The moment he lays eyes on you, he knows. You're something new. Something evolved.

“Fascinating. Your anatomy is foreign… yet purposeful.” He’ll corner you, poke at your glowing veins, maybe even taste your skin to analyze your biology.

The astral tadpole doesn’t scare him- it excites him. He wants to study you, maybe even merge your powers into himself somehow.

Often stares into your eyes in silence, trying to communicate telepathically. You let him. He sees entire memories you didn’t mean to share.

He’d call you “my lovely aberration.” You don’t know if it’s a compliment.

Wamuu

You frighten him at first. Not in a cowardly way- he’s just not used to a presence like yours. The way you see things without looking.

After you spare him during a fight using your powers to disarm rather than kill, he bows respectfully.

“You are not a monster. You are a warrior of the mind.”

Will train with you in secret, deeply respecting your restraint. He finds your psionic strength beautiful.

If you touch his face and whisper directly into his mind, he’ll stiffen- then blush deeply. That ancient man is flustered.

Esidisi

Screams the first time you use a Mind Blast on him. But then gets into it.

“You’re a freak. A disgusting little- ohhh that was amazing do it again- !!”

He’s equal parts obsessed and repulsed. Thinks you’re the grossest, hottest thing he’s ever seen.

Loves watching the veins crawl up your skin when you’re mad. Sometimes pokes one just to see if it pulses.

Watches closely when you use powers on other people. He’s interested in the special little brain-scrambled dummies you make.

Santana

Doesn’t talk much. But he watches. You feel his gaze on you constantly.

He mimics your powers, not with psychic ability, but with his own adaptable flesh. Like making tentacles or veiny skin. The way you manipulate minds and energy entrances him.

Eventually walks up to you and just… puts a hand over your glowing veins.

“...Pretty.” That’s all he says. You melt.

From that moment on, he follows you like a silent puppy. Try to leave and you’ll feel him grabbing you with a tendril from the shadows.

Dio

“You dare intrude on my mind…? Hmph. Bold.” That’s what he says aloud the first time your psionic whispers brush against his thoughts. But deep down he’s intrigued.

He adores how your eyes shimmer like galaxies when you focus, how the veins pulsing along your neck and arms glow faintly in dim light.

He’ll test your limits constantly- trying to bait you into showing off. Force pushing a fool into a wall? Mind-controlling someone who insulted him? He’s in love.

“You are like me… a superior being. Come now- why waste your time on worms? Let us rule together.”

Is 100% hoping to turn you into his psionic vampire lover. You’re his perfect little nightmarish match.

Yoshikage Kira

“You have… veins?” He says this like he’s scandalized. But he can’t stop looking.

The idea that something lives in your brain that gave you powers? He hates that. But you? You’re captivating.

Begins to dream about your hands crackling with psychic energy. Imagines you blowing someone up with a thought.

“You could kill anyone who threatens your peace. Efficient. Elegant.”

Starts fantasizing about your veins pulsing as you stand over someone’s ashes. He's red in the face.

Diavolo

PSIONIC ABILITIES?! TELEPATHY?! He’s already sweating. You’re his worst nightmare.

“Get OUT of my head- !!” he screams the first time you probe his mind.

But part of him is curious. You’re dangerous, powerful, gorgeous. He can’t help but want to control you.

Starts obsessing over you like a threat he has to own.

Would definitely try to gaslight you into thinking the tadpole is taking over just so you’ll stop using it.

Doppio

“H-Hey… you’re not gonna like… eat my brain, are you?”

Is honestly kind of scared of you, but you’re so sweet when you talk to him that he calms down.

Likes when you use Sending directly into his mind. He thinks it’s cool, even if it makes him dizzy.

He’ll nervously ask if he can touch one of your veins, like a little kid trying to touch a weird bug.

If you show him the cool things you can do- levitate, open minds, dominate weak enemies- he will literally clap.

Pucci

At first, he despises the idea of the tadpole. Unnatural. Aberrant. An affront to God.

But then he meets you. And you speak to him- not just with words, but with your soul.

“You are... chosen. Marked by something divine, even if unknowable.”

He starts to believe the Emperor was a god of some kind. He sees your powers as holy purpose.

You become his little psionic angel. He even prays with you, tracing the veins on your hands like stained glass windows.

Funny Valentine

"What is this... mutation?” he asks, skeptical and suspicious.

But the moment you save him using your powers- teleporting, mind-shielding, whatever- he salutes you.

“You may be aberrant… but you are loyal to this country. That makes you beautiful.”

He insists on “protecting” you from others who might want to dissect or abuse you. You start to wonder if he’s projecting.

Stares very hard at you sometimes. You won’t know whether it’s with good or bad intentions unless you peek in his mind.

Diego Brando

“Are you a lizard? No? Then why the hell do you look like that?”

He teases you constantly. “Glow worm,” “brain bug,” “squid ink.” But when you smile faintly and float two inches off the ground, he shuts up.

Secretly very impressed. He tries to race you- he loses. You don’t even break a sweat.

Lowkey flirts with you by treating your powers like an intimate psychic connection to him.

Gets genuinely defensive when anyone talks badly about your transformation.

Tooru

The moment you walk past him? He feels you. Your presence is loud to someone observant like him.

“You’re not from here, are you?” he says casually, like you’re discussing the weather.

Your psionic powers fascinate him. He’ll try to trigger you emotionally just to see your veins light up.

“You’re so special. I could just peel you open and count every nerve…”

Flirts by leaning in close and daring you to read his thoughts. You do. It’s…interesting in there.

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sportsmusicsoapsmoviesfan · 7 months ago

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pacifistcowboy · 2 years ago

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i’m nineteen years of age, i shouldn’t be googling shit like “does my crush like me” ffs this is humiliating

#i’m sorry i just keep talking about this #but i can’t stop thinking about his stupid fucking face and stupid fucking hair and stupid fucking hat #i’m lying they’re not stupid. that’s the whole problem #also i told one of my college friends about my feelings towards this guy and i regret it #because they’re gonna see us hang out and i’ll just KNOW they know so i’m gonna probably get so much more awkward dhfhehf #i honestly thought i was painfully obvious about my crush on him! but my friend was surprised when i told it!#there’s a chance only my crush has picked up on it! i feel like he notices but idk how he feels about it ‘cus he still hangs with me #which is good but he doesn’t like…give me any clues on how he feels about my feelings?? like not even negatively?#like he claimed i blushed at a compliment he gave me once n that i’m bad at looking at someone without being noticed #but like has no further commentary than ‘i notice you do these things’ and nothing telling me to stop or even to keep going like? wtf do i d

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em1i2a3 · 2 months ago

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i don’t know if you take requests but some yearning or very obvious bob having a crush on reader… like full on fluff and everyone makes fun of him cause he’s just that obvious

Plainclothes Man

Pairing: Bob/Robert Reynolds/Sentry x Avengers!Fem!Reader

Summary: Everyone at the compound knows Bob has a massive crush on you–except you.

Warnings: Semi-Spoiler for Thunderbolts because of Bob’s involvement but other than that…None :)

Author's Note: Hey y’all! I do take requests! Just to make that clear! Nothing is really off limits! :) I love this idea! So I thought I would start with it. I kind of rushed it a bit because I have so many ideas going at once for Bob right now, but I wanted to please y’all so hopefully it’s good :)

Word Count: 1,775

Bob was a neon sign of romantic agony.

Everyone could see it.

He was about as subtle as a firework in a library when it came to you, and everyone–everyone but you–knew that he had very obvious feelings for you.

At first, it was just the little things. He would hold the door open for you, make your coffee in the morning, and sometimes he would walk you to your training sessions carrying all your weapons and gear. God forbid you mentioned needing help with something too, because it was like he teleported into the room instantly just to be your knight in shining armor.

It would’ve been sweet–it was sweet–except for the fact that he looked like he was going to pass out every time you smiled at him, or the fact that the first time you touched him he felt like he was having a heart attack.

Not only that, but at the Thunderbolts compound, privacy was a myth. Everyone noticed the way he put you first, and nobody had the emotional maturity to leave it alone, especially during down times when everyone was home with no missions or jobs to run off to.

Idle hands made for cruel commentary.

They started small. Little side-eyes, snorts, giggles, the occasional cough-covered ‘lover boy’ muttered under someone’s breath when Bob stood the moment you entered a room, like he was always on guard.

Then it escalated.

Yelena turned it into a sport, narrating his reactions like a nature documentary when you weren’t present.

”And here we see Bob Reynolds in his natural habitat–blushing violently, hands wringing in his lap, trying not to pass out because Y/N said his name. Observe how he avoids eye contact while trying to remember how to function.” This would make him even more flustered, and only add to his embarrassment of wearing his feelings on his sleeve.

“Please stop,” He would say, with his face on fire.

Ava took to mimicking Bob’s dreamy stares behind your back when the both of you would talk to one another, making sure there was grotesque exaggeration to every detail. How his eyes would widen, and his lips would part, oftentimes she would clutch her chest dramatically and sway from side to side, which only made his cheeks go a bright red as he was talking to you.

Even Alexei, who should’ve had better things to do, began to offer unsolicited advice.

”You must confess, Bob. Women like confidence. You must say, ‘I am man of strength and softness, let us be passionate together!’” Bob nearly choked on the air he breathed, blinking up at Alexei, who was nodding like he had just offered the secret to eternal happiness, and not a line from a Soviet soap opera.

”I…I’m not saying that,” Bob stammered, voice thin with embarrassment.

“Why not?” Alexei boomed, looking over at Walker and Yelena as if they were going to back him up, “You are soft man! Strong man! Women love this contradiction!” Walker sipped his protein shake without looking up from his phone.

”Honestly Bob…It’s not the worst idea he’s had.” Bob looked like someone had just pulled the emergency brake on his nervous system. He was stunned by the agreement the idea was receiving, then he rubbed his hands over his face, like he could scrub away the humiliation clinging to his skin.

”I can’t say that…I’ll die in the middle of it.” Bob muttered, his hands muffling his voice, before hearing a little chuckle coming from Yelena.

”You’re like watching a candle melt under a heat lamp…Take it easy on yourself Bob.” She said, leaning back in her chair.

”Seriously,” Ava added, leaning against the counter with a yogurt in her hand, “ Just say something. Anything at this point will be better than nothing. And please hurry up, because you’re starting to give us secondhand embarrassment with this mating dance you’re doing.” Bob was about to say something then the door creaked open, causing him to pause mid conversation.

Bucky walked in with a towel draped around his neck, drenched in sweat from the endurance run he had done on the treadmill just moments ago, with a look of vague concern on his face.

”What’s with all the noise? I heard Alexei yelling about passion through the vents.” He said, glancing over at everyone who was crowded in the kitchen.

”We’re trying to get Bob to confess his undying love for Y/N.” Yelena replied, watching as Bucky looked over at Bob who was hunched over the kitchen island and flushing a scarlet red.

”Oh,” He said, like it suddenly made perfect sense, “…Wait, he still hasn’t said anything?” He added, confused.

“Nope,” Walker responded, still scrolling through his phone, not bothering to look up, “Somehow he’s been able to keep the verbal diarrhea to a minimum with her.”

“Barely. Last week she complimented him on how strong he was for carrying six bags of groceries for her in one go and he stammered over a thank you for two whole minutes.” Bucky let out a little laugh.

”Pretty sure you’re describing a stroke, not a crush/“ He started, wiping his face off with his towel, “What exactly are you waiting for, Bob? A written invitation from the president or something?” Before Bob even had a chance to answer, the door creaked open again, and you appeared.

You were still damp from the shower you had taken a few minutes ago, with your hair pinned back, and your skin still flushed from the heat of the water. You had on a soft, oversized t-shirt and…Bob’s sweatpants. He had given them to you last week without prompt, saying that you would be warmer in them, and since then, you managed to forget to give them back–whether it was on purpose or by accident, nobody really knew for sure.

Yelena had caught it immediately though.

”Wow…Y/N, those are some nice sweatpants, where’d you get them from?” She drawled, grinning like a cat that had just spotted a mouse. You glanced down at them and pointed.

”These? They’re Bob’s actually, so I have no clue where they’re from, but they’re super comfy.” Bob made a noise that could only be described as a choked squeak, as everyone glanced over at him in their own small ways. Yelena grinned.

”Oh, Bob’s, huh?” You nodded cheerfully, completely missing the way Bob’s soul was visibly leaving his body.

“Yeah, I was freezing after that mission last week and he just gave them to me. I forgot to return them, but they’re just too good to give up.” You replied, looking down at them fondly, like they were a luxury item of sorts, before adjusting the waistband a little bit, “Hope you’re okay if I keep them a little longer before giving them back to you.” You added, with a little smirk.

Bob–already pink from neck to ears–opened his mouth but only managed a soft, and cracked, “Yeah…Yeah totally fine.”

You smiled at him–kind, and warm, and totally unaware of how he was going to spontaneously combust in a few moments if you didn’t stop looking at him the way you always did, with this admiration and care.

Yelena nudged Ava as you turned to the pantry to grab your tote bag.

”I was about to actually go on a grocery run, I figured it’s a good time to stock up for movie night tomorrow…Bob, do you wanna come?”

He lifted his head almost immediately, like he wasn’t sure if he’d heard you correctly–or like he was still rebooting from the sight of you wearing his sweatpants again and saying you might want to keep them longer.

You looked at him with your eyebrows raised, and everyone else looked at him like a firing squad waiting to shoot.

”I-uh…Grocery run?” Yelena pressed her lips together to hold back a grin, before glancing over at Bucky who was shaking his head, then Walker glanced up from his phone, staring at him with a look that basically screamed ‘don’t you dare blow this.’

“Yeah, “ You said with a casual smile, “I was actually going to go because they finally restocked those kettle chips you like, and that weird sparkling iced tea…The lemon honey one. But I thought I’d just kill two birds with one stone and just take the whole movie night snack order now and get it over with…Y’know what I mean?” Bob felt like his entire chest was going to cave in under your words. The fact you remembered such little details about him killed him, because it gave him those butterflies in his stomach–the ones that gave him hope. Dangerous, reckless hope.

”He’ll go.” Yelena replied, “He’s not doing anything anyways, he’s super available right now, aren’t you Bob?” All eyes turned to him.

“I–uh…”

“He lives for those late night grocery runs,” Ava chimed in, “You’ve made his week.” Bucky crossed his arms, clearly entertained.

”Oh yeah, didn’t you say twenty minutes ago that your dream night would be picking out snacks with a girl you–respect deeply as a teammate?” He piled on, causing Bob to swallow loudly.

“Well that’s perfect then! I’ll meet you in the garage in five minutes!” You said brightly, giving him one last smile that probably shaved three years off his life expectancy before you turned and strolled out of the kitchen, with your tote bag bouncing against your hip. Everyone waited until the front door clicked to interrupt the silence.

”Oh Jesus.” Bob said, sinking his face into his hands, hearing Yelena clap like a coach at halftime.

”Alright, let’s lock in–because if you mess this up, Bob, you’re probably never getting another invite like that again.” Ava pointed her spoon at him like a judge handing down a sentence, before saying.

”And it’s the first time she’s asked you to come with her somewhere instead of you tripping over your shoelaces to offer a hand, so that’s a good sign.”

“Yeah,” Bucky added dryly, “So don’t think yourself into a grave for the love of god, because you’ve done it all backwards. She’s supposed to be wearing your clothes when you’re dating, not before.” Bob groaned louder.

“I think I’m gonna throw up.”

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monstersholygrail · 2 months ago

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The second that Squid Hybrid Suitor started listening to his best friend, an Octopus Hybrid, about relationship advice he knew he had officially hit rock bottom. His friend had been pining after his partner for practically the same amount of time he’s been pursing you.

Only difference between the two of them is that his friend had managed to finally succeed where he could not. And the cocky Octopus Hybrid was practically shouting from the rooftops that it had all started after he detached his tentacle cock and offered it to her.

And now Squid Hybrid Suitor is seriously starting to consider his friend’s advice. You see, it’s been many months since the hybrid had officially begun courting you.

He didn’t mind fighting for you, no, not at all. You deserved every minute of it and he’d put in all the hard work that’s needed for you to finally be his mate.

But you were so nonchalant in the face of all his attempts to woo you. It’s like no matter what he came up with to show you how much he cared for you, you were already expecting it. Nothing surprised you or excited you.

It drove him crazy just as much as it made him want you even more. He was determined to make you his, to spoil you and treat you the way you deserve to be treated.

You already knew you deserved the best and you weren’t going to settle for less. He just wanted to be the one to give you that best, to make every day exciting and full of possibilities.

So eventually his friend’s advice seemed to be the only way to go.

His cheeks flush red as he walks briskly through the campus corridors. Keeping his detached tentacle cock tucked safely in his jacket. He watches every student that passes him, hoping they can’t tell what he’s doing just from the look on his face.

A big sigh of relief leaves him as he finally reaches your dorm. Squid Hybrid Suitor is a whirlwind of nerves, too focused on talking to you, giving you his courting gift, and hoping no one else sees his gift.

The second he knocks on your door he swears he’s five seconds away from inking all over the hall and escaping to safety while everyone is distracted. He can feel the pressure build inside him and right before he’s about to seriously consider doing it, you open the door and he freezes.

Your neutral and almost bored expression greets him as you swing the door open and notice it’s him. Mmmm, fuck, and it’s the hottest thing he’s ever seen. You turn him on so bad, you don’t even have to do anything. His cock twitches inside his jacket and he holds back a groan.

“E-evening, sweat heart,” he greets and then blushes even deeper at the nickname that just slipped out of him.

But the corner of your lips quirk up in response and he has to squeeze the base of his tentacle to stop himself from busting a nut inside his coat.

“Hey, you.”

He inhales sharply, eyes fluttering at the teasing, almost knowing, tone of your voice. You had to know what you were doing to him. He won’t be able to take this for much longer.

“Here I have this for you,” he rushes out, taking a step closer to shield it from prying eyes as he thrusts out his cock from his jacket and presents it to you.

Awkward silence fills the space between you. While you look more beautiful than ever, he stands before you with a pained smile and a large tentacle balanced in his hands. He was such a fucking mess for you.

“What is it?” You ask, though not with distaste. He considers that a win.

But how to answer without it coming off weird?

“My cock!” He blurts, eyes immediately growing comically wide.

He can’t believe he said that. He can’t believe he fucking said that! Now you definitely won’t give him a chance. No! He can’t think like that. He just has to explain.

“Well, it’s traditional for merfolk to give their perspective mates courting gifts and I got to thinking about your needs— not that I imagine you what you look like taking care of yourself, well ok that’s not totally the truth. But anyway, I thought if you needed to be taken care of then-then I could be the one to do it. Though not me personal—“

“You know,” you cut him off and his mouth immediately snaps shut as if he were a clam.

Meanwhile the faint pink of his skin grows a deeper red, every inch of him flushing with embarrassment. He kinda wishes he had a shell to hide inside of at the moment. Especially as your blank stare causes his exposed cock to leak a little onto his hands.

“It would be a lot better for me if you were attached to the base of that cock,” you finish and he nearly does too at your words.

More precum leaks onto his hand and while you watch it drip onto the ground he refuses to take his eyes off of you.

“Really?”

You smile, finally, a real full blown smile and nod. A cute little ‘mhm’ leaving you in response.

What. The. Fuck. Is happening. He almost can’t believe it. You’re giving him a chance to prove himself, to be the mate you need. Oh, he’ll fuck you and he’ll fuck you so good too.

The second you step back into your room to let him in, he’s bolting in there faster than a swordfish. Ready to bend you over and fuck you with his tentacle, teasing your warm pussy and making you cum over and over again until finally he reattaches it and fucks into you full force. His stamina knows no limits when it comes to you and he won’t stop or slow down till he’s fucking you dumb and making you squirt all over him.

Pt 2 coming soon… or you can read it early with the rest of the series here on my Patreon!

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kateschi · 8 months ago

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between bites and blushes

synopsis: class 1-a speculates about your secret relationship. as the teasing continues, a small slip reveals the truth, leaving everyone stunned—and katsuki annoyed.

pairing: bakugou katsuki x f!reader

class 1-a buzzes with speculation as you sit among your classmates in the common room, a warm lunch spread out before you.

whispers ripple through the table, each voice eager to share their theories about your love life. you smile, pretending not to notice the heightened interest.

“who do you think y/n is dating?” kirishima asks, leaning forward with a bright smile. “I mean, she’s been acting kind of secretive lately.”

“yeah, and she never talks about him,” kaminari adds, his eyes wide with curiosity. “it’s gotta be someone from a different class, right?”

midoriya furrows his eyebrows. “maybe it’s someone in class 1-b? I’ve seen her talking to some of them during training.”

you chuckle softly to yourself. you’ve been keeping your relationship with katsuki under wraps, wanting to enjoy it without the pressure of everyone’s scrutiny.

as if sensing their curiosity, katsuki sits down beside you, his presence immediate and commanding. he slams his tray on the table, causing a small shake, and grabs his bowl of spicy ramen.

“what are you losers even yammering about?” he asks.

“oh, just talking about y/n’s mystery boyfriend!” kaminari blurts out, his grin mischievous. “you know, the one she’s too secretive to talk about!”

katsuki narrows his eyes, looking between you and kaminari, as if he’s weighing how much to care. you can’t help but smile at the situation.

“you guys should really focus on your training instead of my dating life,” you say lightly, enjoying the way katsuki shifts slightly in his seat, the faintest hint of annoyance crossing his features.

after a few minutes of banter, katsuki pushes his ramen aside to make room for dessert—an assortment of mochi he’d been saving.

you watch as kaminari, with his usual absent-mindedness, leans over to grab a spoonful of katsuki’s ramen while katsuki’s attention is diverted.

“hey, what are you doing?” you call out, but it’s too late.

kaminari shovels the food into his mouth, a blissful look on his face. the moment he registers what he’s just done, his eyes widen in horror. “uh, oh...”

katsuki whips around, his expression darkening as he realizes his precious ramen has been tampered with. “hey! what the hell did you just do?” he roars, a vein in his forehead twitching with irritation.

kaminari’s face pales. “I-I thought it was just a taste! it looked really good!”

“looks good? you think that gives you the right to just take my food?” katsuki yells, rising from his seat, quirk already sparking at his fingertips.

the common room goes silent, all eyes glued to the impending chaos. kirishima grabs kaminari’s arm, pulling him back instinctively. “dude, you might want to apologize before he goes off!”

kaminari stammers, “I-I’m sorry! it was an accident!”

katsuki marches over, and in a flurry of furious energy, he pushes kaminari back, delivering a quick, sharp punch to his shoulder. “next time, ask before you eat something that isn’t yours, you dumbass!”

the rest of the class watches in a mix of awe and nervousness as kaminari scrambles to defend himself, stumbling back to his seat, where he winces in exaggerated pain.

“man, you really care about your food, huh?” kirishima laughs nervously, though the humor is tinged with apprehension. “I wouldn’t want to be on your bad side!”

katsuki grumbles something unintelligible, his gaze shifting back to you. you can’t help but giggle at the absurdity of the situation.

days pass, and the class is still buzzing with excitement over kaminari’s mishap. speculation over your love life continues to swirl, but you remain tight-lipped, enjoying the mystery and the quiet joy of your relationship with katsuki.

then, one day, as you sit in the common room with katsuki, you eye his leftovers sitting on the coffee table. he’s absorbed in a training video, and you can’t resist the temptation.

you reach over and take a bite of his remaining ramen, savoring the rich flavors.

katsuki glances over. “y/n,” he warns.

you flash him a playful grin. “just having a little taste! you don’t mind, do you?”

his expression softens slightly, and he shakes his head. “if you’re hungry then just tell me, so I can make you more.”

you grin, warmth flooding through you at his casual offer. “aww, you’d do that?”

“of course! just don’t go stealing my food like some idiot,” he replies, crossing his arms, but there’s a softness in his tone that makes you smile.

just then, the rest of class 1-a filters into the room, their curious eyes darting between you and katsuki.

kaminari, still nursing his bruised pride, can’t help but speak up. “so, you’re not gonna beat her up for eating your food?” he asks, a teasing lilt in his voice.

katsuki looks at him, utterly perplexed. “what kind of jackass beats up his girlfriend?” he retorts, his expression a mix of confusion and annoyance.

a heavy silence descends over the room, the weight of his words hanging in the air. your classmates exchange stunned glances, eyes wide with disbelief.

the realization hits them like a wave, each one processing the implication of katsuki's casual admission.

“oh, that’s why you’ve been in a good mood lately—” midoriya blurts out, his eyes going wide with understanding.

katsuki’s face flushes, and he instinctively pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as if to shield you from their astonished gazes.

“stay out of our business!” he yells, then he points at midoriya, “especially you!”

the room erupts into a flurry of shocked voices, each member of class 1-a grappling with the sudden revelation. uraraka’s mouth drops open in disbelief. “wait, you guys are actually together?!”

kirishima’s grin grows even wider, and he nudges katsuki’s arm playfully. “dude, that’s awesome! I didn’t see that coming!”

you can’t help but laugh at the chaos, your heart swelling with affection for katsuki. you think that that nobody is noticing that katsuki’s hands are crackling, and that his eyes are picking his targets.

you figure that you won’t tell them, since, hey, good chaos is healthy every once in a while.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

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neo-nomatrix · 1 year ago

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HAWK TUAH !

jjk men during a bl0w!e

MULTIPLE X READER

-> GOJO, SUKUNA, CHOSO, GETO, NANAMI, TOJI

cw: bj stuff. cum play (kinda idk) rough characters. dirty talk. degradation. choking

GOJO SATORU AKA HEAD PUSHER

Soooo needy it’s insane. He’s so desperate to feel every inch of your soft warm mouth. he promises to let you do your thing but as soon as you wrap your lips around the tip his hands fly to your head and his hips snap. he’s muttering apologize as he pushes you down until your nose touches his skin. he throws his head back and moans open mouthed like a slut.

he’ll get so caught up in the moment he keep you down there for like 30 seconds just grinding his hips into your mouth. let’s you up when you pinch his thigh. you will be coughing and your face will be covered in spit by the end. he lovess facials and always rubs the cum in using his tip. he keeps a photo of you with his cock on your face and cum in your mouth as his wallpaper.

“s-shit baby… deeper, little more”

“you can take it, i know you can baby”

“just make me feel good okay?”

RYOMEN SUKUNA AKA THROAT DESTROYER

uhm yeah… what did you expect. does not give a shit about you when his cock is in your mouth. keeps you at the edge of the bed with your head hanging off and his fucking your mouth like a fleshlight. goes so deep his cock is showing in your throat. your gags make him want to go another round. plugs your nose when you’re deep throating so you can’t breath.

“until my jaw locks” yeah he took that as a challenge. loves tying you up with a low vibrator on your clit while he fucks that mouth as torture. you honestly don’t know if you love it or hate it. Sukuna loves it though, that’s for sure. cums deep in your throat, every time. will face fuck you again if he sees you didn’t swallow it all.

“fuck gag on that dick, bitch”

“i can see my cock in your throat! but who’s surprised?”

“you better swallow my seed… it’ll probably reach your stomach with how deep i am”

CHOSO KAMO AKA WHINY B!TCH

again, who’s surprised. he thought handjobs were great… but this? whole different level. you start but sucking on the tip until he’s sensitive. then you lick stripes up and down his veins. you use soo much spit and he loves it. he loves it when you press kisses to his cock and then deep throat it.

hes mesmerized by the way your head moves, the way your lips look. he has to force himself to not throw his head back so he can see you. one time he got ahead of himself and snapped his hips up and you choked on him, best day of his life. when he found out your throat felt like that? no going back. he begs you to deep throat him all the time.

“more… more more more. please baby!”

“remember how good i eat you out? please treat me good”

“i know it’s too deep! im sorry i can’t stop baby”

SUGURU GETO AKA NICE N SLOW

just into good old fashioned blowjobs. your hand kept at the base and your lips move up and down his shaft. he wants your tongue swirling over it like a lollipop. he brushes your hair out of your face to see your expressions. he’s so gentle and nice when it comes to blowjobs.

let’s you grind on his leg while you suck him off. mostly uses it as foreplay and not a main way to get off. likes for your spit to act as lube for him to slide in. if he was gonna cum from a bj it would be on your tits. he loves that.

“fuck keep that up and i’ll cum”

“let it get hard in your mouth… that’s right”

“don’t give me those innocent eyes, slut”

NANAMI KENTO AKA UNDER THE DESK

oh you’ll support your working man, from under the desk. he’s so stressed about work these days and you have just the solution! you showed up to his home office in skimpy lingerie and without saying a word you crawl under his desk and get to work. he gets so flustered so fast, blushing and stuttering about how his report is due.

grips the chair so tight when you start working your magic. he doesn’t want to thrust up because he knows he’ll bruise your throat. uses his belt to wrap around your neck and guide you instead. pulls your hair an insane amount. cums in your mouth but likes to watch it pour out onto your body.

“i’m working baby… you’ll get me too distracted”

“wrap that belt around your neck, be a good assistant”

“is this you saying thank you for being my sugar daddy?”

TOJI FUSHIGURO AKA TWO HANDS

he’s so big you need to use your hands or else he might pop out on the other side of your neck. you’re moving your hands and your mouth at a similar pace. he definitely teaches you how he wants it. he guides your head to a good rhythm and then lets you do your thing.

maybe he’ll have a cigarette hanging out his mouth when you suck it. blowing smoke in your face to tease you. definitely makes fun of the fact that you can’t take all of him. your jaw has to be open so wide to get him in. cums everywhere, your face, throat, tits. doesn’t matter, if it’s you he’ll cum there.

“don’t just move your hands up and down baby, turn em”

“your face looks so fucking small next to my dick!”

“c’mon, try harder to take it or else i’ll force you to”

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y2kstarr · 1 month ago

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— ᥫ᭡ talk dirty . . . chris sturniolo

where . . . Chris dirty talks you into finally sitting on his face and letting him eat you out like he's never before.

contains . . . smut, dirty talk, oral (f!receiving), face sitting/riding, sub!reader, soft dom!chris, praising, pussy drunk!chris

credits to @delilahsturniolo for the marathon concept

HOT PINK WRITING MARATHON . . . fic #7

You’re curled into Chris on his bed, half-watching some movie neither of you are actually paying attention to. His arm’s around your waist, fingertips trailing lazy circles against the skin just under your sleep shirt. There’s a heat there — a warmth that’s been growing, slow and steady, the way it always does when you two are this close for this long.

You shift slightly, and his hand slides higher. Not by much. Just enough to make you aware of it.

“You keep moving like that,” he murmurs near your ear, “and I’m gonna start thinking you’re doing it on purpose.”

You scoff under your breath, smiling, but your cheeks are already warm with blush.

“I’m not doing anything." You respond in a slight mutter.

Chris tilts his head, pressing his lips to your shoulder, his voice low, almost playful in your ear.

“You sure?” he coos. “Because the way your thighs keep squeezing around me is driving me a little crazy.”

You look away, cheeks flooding with heat, and he grins.

“God, I love when you get all shy like that,” he murmurs, voice thick with affection and want. “It’s cute. And really fucking hot.”

His hand dips beneath your shorts, palm resting warm on your upper thigh. You don’t stop him.

“You wanna know what I’ve been thinking about all day?” he asks.

You swallow. You don’t answer.

He chuckles softly. “I’ve been thinking about you...” he begins, voice lower now, lips grazing against your jaw in a teasing manner. “On top of me. Your thighs on either side of my head. Your hands in my hair. Your hips grinding down on my face while I make you fall apart over and over.”

You make a quiet, embarrassed sound — half protested squeak, half embarrassed whimper — and bury your face in the crook of his neck as if to hide away.

“Chrisss..." you whimper against his skin.

“Mhm?” he hums like it’s an innocent question, as if he didn't just paint the hottest, most erotic pictures for you, but the hand on your thigh is anything but.

“You can’t just—say that stuff out of nowhere—" you pout as you move your head from out of his neck to look up at him.

He laughs softly, pressing a kiss to your neck, slow and lingering, making your breath catch in your throat and heat to pool between your thighs, need and demanding for attention.

“Why not? It’s true.” His lips trail up to your ear, voice dropping to a whisper. “You sitting on my face? That’s not even a fantasy anymore, baby. That’s a need.”

You shift again without meaning to, thighs instinctively tightening as you let out another pathetic whimper as you imagine it in your head, and he grins against your skin.

“Yeah… like that,” he whispers. “You’d look so pretty like that. All flushed and trembling, trying not to moan too loud while I hold your hips down and make you take everything I give you.”

Your breath catches. You can feel your heart thudding against your ribs.

“Chris—”

“You’d lose it, wouldn’t you?” he murmurs. “You’d try so hard to stay quiet, but the second I really start eating you out—” he groans softly at the thought, “you’d be shaking. Whimpering. Riding my face because you can’t help it.”

You try to hide your face again, heat crawling all the way down your chest, but he gently tugs your chin so you’re looking at him.

His gaze is soft — but intense. Loving, but burning. His sweet blues, now darkening with lust, meeting your adorable doe eyes, and it was as if he could read right through you, a smirk coming to his lips.

“You want to,” he whispers low and teasingly. “I can tell.”

You open your mouth to argue, but no words come. He kisses you instead — slow and sweet at first, then deeper, tongue sliding against yours like he’s already imagining exactly how you’ll taste, and it pulls a needy mewl from you, your hands grasping at his shirt as you feel your arousal seep through your panties.

When he finally pulls away, his voice is nothing but a whisper against your lips, almost begging if it wasn't for his teasing, low tone. “Let me have you like that, baby. Please... Let me love you like that. Just sit on my face.”

You hesitate, breathless. “…You really want that?” you ask.

His answer is instant, voice thick with desire, nearly groaning at the prospect of you saying yes. “More than anything.”

And after one shaky exhale, your thighs aching from being squeezed together for so long, and the feeling of your soaked panties underneath your shorts, you finally nod. “…Okay.”

His grin is immediate — wicked and boyish all at once, his voice a low coo that makes a shiver rush up your spine. “There’s my girl.”

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

"Are you sure about this?"

Your voice was hesitant as you looked down at Chris, thighs pressed together as you sat next to him in his bed with nothing on except for one of his baggy shirts, the movie nothing but background noise for the two of you.

"Baby, I promise, I've never been more sure of something in my entire life," He chuckled, already lying flat on his back, completely prepared for you as he looked up at you with almost excited eyes. "I'm seriously going to lose my mind if you keep making me wait."

You couldn't help a soft giggle before you exhaled quietly, working up you courage as you moved your legs to hook one over his head, your knees pressing into the mattress as you hovered over his face.

"Jesus... look at this fuckin' pussy, ma..." Chris groaned, bringing a hand up to drag his finger through your already drooling folds, making a soft gasp leave your lips as your hands held the hem of your shirt up a bit for him.

"I-is this ok?" You asked as blush covered your cheeks already, whimpering at the way his hands palmed over your thick thighs, before feeling him slowly hook his arms under them.

"Yeah... but it'd be even better if you actually sat on my face, baby," He cooed playfully, making a moan slip from your lips as he leaned up, running his tongue along your slit in a slow, savoring lick. "Y' making me strain my neck just to taste you."

"But what if..." You trailed off.

"What if what?" Chris asked, his blue eyes peaking up at you from underneath as you swallowed a lump in your throat.

"What if I'm too heavy for you..?" You couldn't help but meekly whimper out, your nerves taking over you, but as you heard Chris huff out a chuckle, you suddenly felt his arms tugging you down, a gasp leaving your lips as he held you down against his face.

"C–chris!" You yelped, blush burning the tips of your ears before a pleasurable moan fell from your lips at him lapping at your pussy already, groaning against your folds as he held you in place, leaving you unable to lift yourself up.

"Just relax, baby," he murmurs against your slick folds, his hot breath making you shiver. "Let me take care of you. I want to taste every inch of this sweet little pussy."

You gasp as he begins to eat you out like it's his last meal, your back arching as jolts of pleasure course through you, moans and whimpers spilling from your lips.

Your thighs quake and tremble, the muscles taut with tension as you fight the urge to close them around his head, but he holds you steady, not letting you squirm away from the intense sensations.

Chris groans in approval as he laps at your dripping arousal, relishing your unique taste, a taste he could get addicted to without even trying.

"Fuck, you taste incredible," he growls against your cunt, the vibrations of his deep voice sending shockwaves of pleasure through your core. His tongue delves deeper, probing your entrance whilst you feel one of his hands move, his thumb rubbing firm circles against your sensitive clit.

You toss your head back, your hair falling in disarray as you moan wantonly above him, whining as one hand shoots up to grip the headboard of his bed harshly to help steady yourself.

"C–chris! Mmm— Oh god, yes!" you mewl, your hips bucking instinctively against his face, getting lost in the pleasure and forgetting about your previous worries. He holds you firmly in place, his strong hand kneading the plush of your thigh as he devours your pussy with unrestrained hunger.

"D–don't stop, please don't stop!" You begged him, pleasure building rapidly as he works your pussy like never before, his thumb keeping that mind numbing rhythm whilst his tongue fucks into your clenching hole, making your mind fuzzy as that familiar knot pulls tighter and tighter within you.

And the moment he groans against your pussy, as if telling you to cum for him, you feel your orgasm hit you like a train, gasping out as you moan his name loud, back arching, hands gripping tight, and eyes rolling back in pure ecstasy.

Your hips ground against his mouth as you gushed all over his tongue, whines and whimpers leaving you as you rode out your high, before you finally slowed your movements, panting as you trembled above Chris until you finally came to.

"S-shit— 'M sorry—" You whimpered, lifting yourself up and off of his face, blushing at the sight of him, cheeks pink, mouth and chin covered in your juices, his eyes full of pure bliss as he looked up at you, chuckling as he looked almost equally as fucked out as you.

"Do.. do you want me to help you out now?" You asked sweetly, before watching as his cheeks reddened, a huffed out, almost embarrassed chuckle leaving his lips.

"Well, uh— I don't think you need to, baby—" He murmured, but as you gave him a confused face, you watched as his eyes glanced down, yours following his gaze before you gasped softly, seeing the big wet stain on his boxers, showing that he'd cum purely just from eating you out.

Your eyes met his again, a beat of a moment before the two of you giggled and chuckled, you leaning down to press a sweet kiss to his lips, whimpering softly at the taste of you on him before he whispered against your lips, his voice sounding like he was completely drunk from your pussy, and it made newfound arousal shoot through your body once more.

"Can we please do that again?"

☆ : that man is a muncher 4 LIFE, i just know it man...i can feel it in my nuggets (i have a coin slot 😔) idk if i like this one much— loved doing the dirty talking part but i feel like I flopped with the actual smut part, im sorry 😭 hope you guys still enjoy tho!!

taglist 🏷️

#y2kstarr★#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo blurb #chris sturniolo drabble #chris sturiolo fanfic #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x you #sturniolo blurb #sturniolo drabble #sturniolo fanfic

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okwonyo · 2 months ago

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ONLY YOU, MY GIRL ★ only you, babe.

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐕 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝗍𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖺 𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎.

𝟏𝟕𝟏𝟏𝒾──── enhypen 𝗑 f!rea ✿ fluff 𓂋 kissing skinship ❞ 𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒖𝒆 ｡ ⠀

𝗥𝗘𝗕𝗟𝗢𝗚 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗔 𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗦

HEESEUNG

holds your bag for you. he is always ready to do anything and everything for his sweet angel. when you go out together, he doesn’t want you to be bothered by your bag, especially if you are holding stuffs as well. therefore, in the proof of his devotion of you, he holds your bag whenever you are out. it has came to the point where he chooses his outfit that matches with the bag you are wearing that day.

take care of your appearance. not that you need to have anything changed about it. however, whenever he notices that your shirt is put in a weird way or when you have one of your eyelashes that fell onto your eye, it his mission to take the matter into his own hands. his favorite thing to do is to tuck a wild hair strand behind your ear when your hair is up in a cute ponytail.

shuts up as soon as you tell him. listen, what else can he do, really? heeseung tends to be very flirty, very chatty. you tend to get shy so easily. and when he starts to tease you with his flirting, your first reflex is to be a tad mean to him. “heeseung, shut up, i will hit you,” you tell him, pushing him away from you weakly. your tone is cold, yet the man giggles like a teenager and does shut up immediately.

JAY

praises you all the time. he can’t control it. he notices so much things about you— and he is always in awe of everything that you have, everything that you do. sometimes he praise you for the bare minimum, for eating lunch or taking a nap. he likes to pat your head ever so gently without ever forgetting to add, “good girl,“ and a kiss on your forehead while you blush.

puts on your shoes for you, even if you insist that you don’t need to. your boyfriend’s chivalry goes over the roof and he feels the uncontrollable need of always taking care of you. therefore, when you get ready to go out and he notices your shoes in your hands, he is quick to snatch them away from you and get on one knee. you always laugh at him, assuring that he doesn’t need to. “but i want to.”

doesn’t let you pay for anything. it’s really the first thing you noticed about him. at your first date, he payed for the dinner while you went to the bathroom. he did it at the second, the third and at every date you had since then. his habit extended to daily life; his card is the one registered on every shopping site you like, he slides it in your purse whenever you tell him that you want to go shopping and he buys even the smallest thing you mention.

JAKE

walks on the roadside. of course, he know basic gentleman actions. when you walk on the sidewalks, he makes sure that he is always walking on the side next the cars, the roadside. he doesn’t know why, it’s just a sense of urgency, an alarm that goes off, an unspoken rule. he slides his hand on your waist whenever you are walked where you are not supposed to, he moves to the side, “stay there, my love,” he tells you.

brings you breakfast in bed. it’s a lovely habit of his that you are always so surprised to witness. every few weeks, jake’s soft lips place kisses on your skin in the hope of waking you up. nothing new, that’s how he usually gets you out of slumber. but when you open your eyes, he has your pink apron on and proud smile on his face, “good morning, princess. i bring you breakfast.”

let’s you sit on his lap. he doesn’t let you, he actually wants you to be there very much. it makes him smile, whenever there is plenty of room, many seats where you can sit— even right next to him. yet, you decide to sit on his lap every single time. jake let’s you, without complaining. even if he is holding something in his hand or if he is busy talking to a friend. his girlfriend wants to sit? he’s eager to serve her.

SUNGHOON

lifts you up as much as you want it. your boyfriend is strong, stronger than anyone you have ever known. he can pick you off the floor without any effort needed. most of the time, the worlds doesn’t need to leave the barrier of your lips, he just knows. he holds you bridal style, like the princess you are to get up those stairs. he is happy to hop you over his shoulder to go to bed when you are too lazy to walk. a eyelashes bat is all it takes to get a piggyback ride out of him.

he is always so gentle with you. it is something so subtitle yet so important. your lover, despite his impressive frames and sculpted muscles is the most gentle person you have ever know. he holds your so softly, as if you were the most fragile porcelain doll he has ever seen. he takes you in his arms, presses you against his chest when he hugs you with such a care that it makes you want to cry everytime.

gives you the first bite of his food. it’s natural to him, when his food is served— when his dishes his different from yours— he takes his spoon, takes a bit of what is in his plate and guides it to your mouth. it’s not that he absolutely needs your opinion on it, although it’s better, he just feels like you should always have the first bite of his food: because he loves you that much.

SUNOO

gives you his jacket. he has seen many movies before; about a lot of different subjects, and about romance especially. he has seen that scene where the man gives his jacket to the woman he likes when she is cold. when he does it for you, when he takes off his precious jacket to drape it on your shoulder, he understands why it’s such a romantic gesture. loving you enough to know when you are slightly cold is his favorite thing about himself.

he hugs you when you are embarrassed. sunoo finds it adorable, how easy it is to tease you, how simple it is to make you shy. he is not a the type to tease, he never was, but there is something about the way you blush whenever he gets too playful for your heart. he especially adores when you hide your face in the crook of your neck out of shyness and he is alway happy to welcome you in his arms.

helps you take off your coat or shoes. he is surprised by his own actions— acting like such a knight in shining armor is something new to him. yet, it becomes one of his habit so naturally. whenever you come back home, he is quick to get behind you and take your coat off your shoulders as you sigh heavily. he even gets on his knees to help you take off your shoes. his reward is getting kissed by such a sweetheart like you.

JUNGWON

holds the umbrella for you. “babe,” he says, his nose facing the sky. his eyes squint as he feels droplets on his skin. he is always so fast to open his umbrella, as if he knew the weather like the back of his hand, “come here.” he tells you, although he is already holding the umbrella above your head. you tell him to get under it too, but he refuses, claiming that there is not enough space for the both of you.

brings you flower. jungwon is a little extra, perhaps. he doesn’t send your favorite flowers to wherever you may be at the moment. he goes out of his way to be able to give them to you in person, in the utmost need of seeing your smile when you receive them and to feel the joy that your lips on his own makes him feel.

his first priority is you. you are aware that your boyfriend’s life is full, that he is a very wanted and wanted man. never you have excepted for him to put anything but his work the priority in his life— which is why you are always taken aback when he proves you otherwise. he is alway there for you. whether you are sick or just feeling a bit down, he puts everything on the side to be there for you. “i’ll be home in a few, sweetheart, wait for me.”

RIKI

let’s you put cute things in his hair. if there is one thing he dislikes, it’s definitely pink. he doesn’t really know since when it started, but he doesn’t like that color anymore. but if there is one thing he likes, loves even, the it’s you—therefore, yes, he lets you put your sanrio hair clips and pink ribbons in his hair. he keeps them until you tell him he can take them off, and honestly, he is starting to like these in his hair.

goes shopping with you. when you bring your boyfriend to your shopping session, you pretty much just drag him all around the mall as much as you want. during your shopping spree, he is destined to do a lot of things; such as being a tester for the makeup, the perfume and the skincare. he doesn’t mind doing all of these stuffs honestly, because he gets to be with you. he serves you with all his heart, his hands full of your snacks and shopping bags.

shares his jewelry with you. riki values his dressing a lot, as the fashion lover he is. and the favorite thing about making an outfit is adding accessories. he cherishes his jewels a lot and you admire his collection the most. of course, he knows how much you like his rings, it’s obvious whenever you stare at his hands. “give me your hand,” he chuckles, taking off one of the rings on his hand. he slides it on your finger with a sweet smile. “now, we match.”

분지 ܃ i’m very tired so this is um.. but i hope you still enjoyed and i will try to post something better soon 💌

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kathaelipwse · 4 months ago

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Their Reaction When You Whisper Something Not So Innocent | SKZ OT8

Synopsis:

You whisper something not-so-innocent in their ear, expecting them to get flustered—but some of them give it right back. From blushing messes to smug revenge, how does each of them react when you catch them off guard?

Warnings: Fluff | Teasing | Slightly Suggestive | Humor | GN.Reader

Word Count: 0.9k

- Requests are open

Bang Chan

Smirks when he feels you leaning in, expecting something sweet.

But then you whisper, "I can still feel you on me from last night."

His smirk falters immediately.

Clears his throat and shifts in his seat, suddenly very aware of his surroundings.

Tries to play it cool with a low chuckle, but his ears are already red.

"You're playing a dangerous game, baby."

Pulls you closer, making sure his lips graze your ear.

"Say that again. I dare you."

If you repeat it, he grabs your chin, tilting your face up to look at him.

"You're lucky we're in public right now." His voice is lower, rougher.

Looks you up and down, tongue flicking over his bottom lip, like he's processing his life choices.

Murmurs against your skin, "You really know how to distract me, huh?"

Doesn’t let you walk away without some kind of payback.

If you’re in public, he keeps a hand on your waist, gripping it just enough to tease you.

If you're alone, expect him to pin you against the nearest surface, his knee between your legs.

Later, he sends a text that just says, "You're in trouble."

Lee Know

Squints suspiciously when you lean in.

But when you whisper, "I still remember how your hands felt on me."

He blinks once. Then twice.

"Huh?" Like he didn’t hear you, but he definitely did.

Slowly turns his head to stare at you.

Smirk. That damn smirk.

"Say that again, but slower."

When you refuse, he just laughs under his breath.

Pulls you onto his lap out of nowhere.

Murmurs, "You really want to start something right now?"

Taps his fingers on your thigh while pretending to think.

Looks way too calm, but his ears? Red.

Whispering right back, "You're gonna regret that later."

Acts like he's letting it go, but he's not.

Later, when you're alone, he corners you against a wall.

"I hope you’re ready to deal with the consequences."

Changbin

Immediately suspicious when you get too close.

"What are you up to?" But lets you whisper anyway.

But when you whisper, "I can still feel your hands on me from last night."

Freezes. Like. Completely.

Ears turn pink in 0.2 seconds.

Clears his throat so aggressively it sounds painful.

Tries to act unbothered but fails miserably.

"I-I don’t know what you’re talking about." Avoids eye contact.

Suddenly decides the gym is the safest place to be.

"You—um—shouldn’t say things like that."

Secretly loves it but is too flustered to function.

Texts you later: "So… about what you said earlier…"

If you bring it up again, he just hides his face in your shoulder.

After he recovers, he plans his revenge.

Whispering something even worse in your ear next time.

Hyunjin

Gasp.

Literal gasp.

Pushes you away just to dramatically hold his chest.

"EXCUSE ME?"

Fake offended but lowkey obsessed.

Covers his face with his hands and groans.

When you whisper, "You left me aching for you last night."

Starts pacing the room like he's in a drama.

Suddenly super shy but also clinging to you.

Buries his face in your neck.

"You just ruined my whole day. I can’t focus anymore."

Later, gets bold. Whispers something even filthier in your ear.

"Now we’re even."

Smug, but avoids eye contact for the next hour.

Still thinking about it at 2AM.

Han

Chokes on air.

"Wait. Wait, what?"

Starts laughing nervously like a man who wasn’t prepared for this moment.

"You can’t just—out of nowhere—WHAT?"

Hides under a blanket.

Peeks out with wide eyes.

When you whisper, "I still remember the way you moaned my name."

Trying so hard not to combust.

Literally grabs his chest like he’s been shot.

"I need a moment. I need therapy."

Pretends to be mad but he’s just overheating.

Eventually whispers something back. But it’s probably dumb.

Texts you later: "Hey… so about earlier… wanna continue that convo?"

Can’t look at you normally for at least a week.

But brings it up randomly when you least expect it.

Seungmin

Seungmin doesn’t react at first. Just stares at you with his usual deadpan face.

"That’s the best you got?" Smug. Too smug.

When you whisper, "I still feel you all over me from last night," he blinks slowly, side-eyes you, and then smirks.

"Oh? That sensitive, are we?"

It backfires immediately.

He leans in closer—way too close.

Whispers right back, "If I left such an impression… maybe I should make it worse next time."

Now you’re the one overheating.

Smirk. Full menace mode activated.

You regret everything.

"What? No comeback? That’s what I thought."

He will not let you live it down. Ever.

Brings it up at the worst times.

Game over. You lost. He wins.

Felix

Blushes instantly.

"W-Wait, what did you just say?"

Ears and neck turn red.

Tries to giggle it off but is lowkey panicking.

When you whisper, "You ruined me last night," he freezes.

Buffering. System failure.

Covers his face with his hands.

"Why would you say that?!" His voice cracks.

Legit needs to sit down.

But then… oh no.

Deep voice Felix activates.

Gets bold out of nowhere.

Whispers right back, "You say that like you didn’t love every second of it."

Now you’re malfunctioning.

He grins like the devil because he knows he got you back.

Jeongin

Biggest fake gasp ever.

"Oh my god, you’re so bold." But he’s smirking.

Acts shocked but is secretly thriving.

When you whisper, "I couldn’t stop thinking about your hands all over me," he raises an eyebrow, way too smug.

"Huh. All over, you say?"

Evil smirk unlocks.

Turns the tables immediately.

Leans in and whispers, "If you ask nicely, I’ll do it again."

You’re done. You’re finished.

Laughs when you get flustered.

"What? You started this. Own it."

Suddenly way too confident.

Never lets you live it down.

"So, should I clear my schedule for later or…?"

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gghostwriter · 1 year ago

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You’re the Risk, I’ll Take it

Spencer Reid x BAU!Fem!Reader

Summary: The three times Spencer followed advice and the one time he didn't (or as I'd like to better explain it, the three times Spencer fails to flirt and the one time it worked)

Warning: fluff! Just fluff!

A/n: I wanted to write something cute this time with Season 1 Spencer in mind--one of the best eras if you ask me. Hopefully I did him justice in this. The idea of this cute baby boy trying to flirt is too precious honestly. Also, if a guy did the last act for me, I'd fold like a lawn chair, yep. Risk by Gracie Abrams was on repeat while I was writing this and no proof reading was done. Let me know what you think!

Main masterlist

The first move Spencer tried was advised by Derek Morgan, the renowned ladies man

“Kid, admit it. You like her,” Morgan pestered him with a slight smile on his face.

Spencer scoffed, trying to throw him off from the truth but monumentally failing. “S-she’s my closest friend. We joined the team at the same time, of course I feel most comfortable with her,” he noted his companion’s eyebrows raising higher and higher with each word. “Plus, she likes hearing what I say even if it has no relation to the case. She asks me questions and genuinely remembers.”

Now it was Morgan’s turn to scoff. “You could be talking about Star Trek and it’s physics mistakes and she’ll still hang on to every word you say.”

“Actually, there aren’t that many scientific errors in Star Trek. Especially considering—”

“Reid.”

“Right,” he nodded once, trying to push away the urge to continue further. “That still doesn’t mean I like her.”

Morgan tapped the wheel twice before turning to face his partner. “Then answer me this. How do you feel when she walks through the office doors?”

“Happy, I get the same feeling when I see you or Elle come in too,” he found his fingers very interesting then. Like they held the key to unlocking the mysteries of Dark Matter and the answer to the controversial scientific theory ‘Do parallel universe exist?’. He wasn’t telling the whole truth—didn’t want to because how could he, a man of science, explain the other bodily reactions he has when you walk in a room. How he hears his heart stutter in his chest with just a glimpse of you—the first time it happened, he thought nothing of it, but by the third, he considered making an appointment with a specialist for possible heart arrhythmia. How he sees the room brighten when you smile in his direction—perhaps light sensitivity, and how he feels his body heat up when you utter the words ‘Good morning, Spence.’—possibly hot flashes. Self diagnosis that he ruled out once he found you to be the common denominator. That left him with a riddle, a personal conundrum he lost countless of sleep over trying to solve.

“That’s a lie, Reid. You can’t be that happy to see me. You never blush like a tomato when I enter the room. For Greenaway, I could see it but for me, nu-uh,” he argued back. “Okay, what about when she’s not there, what do you feel then?”

“Sad, similar to how I’d react with you and Elle,” he blurted out another half truth. Another surface level answer that doesn’t fully cover how lost he feels without your comforting presence beside him, how gloomy any room he enters in without you in it, and how incomplete his days were without hearing your voice.

Morgan snickered. “Lies, you have to learn how to lie better to fool an FBI profiler, Reid. You don’t think I—the team, notice that you’re quieter when she isn’t on the case with us?”

“Wait. Wait, the whole team?” His voice goes up an octave. You were part of the team, did that mean you knew of the effect you had on him too? “D-Does everyone have the same idea as you do? Everyone?”

“Not everyone, kid. Your secret is still safe,” He smiled wide like a cat that caught the canary. “So it’s true then, you like her.”

Spencer knew there was no escape from trap, he was just glad that his secret still remained classified from the other party involved. His shoulders sagged as he nodded to confirm Morgan’s findings.

“So what’s your play then?”

His head whipped to face his companion so fast he felt his meticulously styled hair escape the confines of his ears. “Play? There’s no play. Nothing. I’m not going to do anything and this conversation stays between us.”

“Oh c’mon lover boy, you have to do something,” Morgan challenged. “Y’know she likes you back, right?”

“No she doesn’t! I mean, why would she?” Spencer rambled on, unable to comprehend what Morgan was saying. “She’s her—beautiful, smart, and cool. Every case we get, there’s at least one police officer hitting on her. And I’m me—I talk too much and get awkward in every situation. The exact opposite!”

“Reid, don’t sell yourself short. She likes you, trust me on this.” He paused, listening to the update on the intercom before continuing on. “So here’s what you’re going to do. Compliment her outfit, girls appreciate that. Easy enough, don’t you think?”

Spencer really didn’t think so after all he had the tendency to go off on a tangent whenever he talks to you but he agrees nonetheless. If Morgan believes he could do it then he couldn’t mess it up, right?

———

Wrong. It was wrong to take Morgan’s advice. Never mind he can recall everything he has ever read, never mind he has an IQ of 187. What good were his talents if he, Dr. Spencer Reid, couldn’t string the proper sentences along?

It started when you walked into the office wearing this light yellow blouse that made you more radiant than he thought possible. It was as if the a ray of sun had graced the bullpen and stunned his mind into silence, rendering him tongue-tied. All his monologues and hypothesis bouncing around his overactive brain fell away and the only thing he could think of was how pretty you look.

Morgan cleared his throat, bringing him back to the living. Spencer averted his awestruck gaze and busied himself with an imaginary lint on his red sweater.

“Hey Y/N, did anything good this weekend?” Morgan asked as you settled into your desk adjacent to his.

You shrugged nonchalantly and teased back. “I bet it wasn’t good as yours, Morgan. Picked anyone up last Friday or are your charms no longer working?”

“Huh, i see where this is going. Somebody woke up on the wrong side of bed today.”

Morgan chanced a peek at Spencer and internally groaned. How you didn’t notice the kid’s crush on you was beyond him—all the staring and blushing he does when you’re near was a dead giveaway.

“Reid. Reid,” Morgan called out.

He closed his mouth and gulped. “Hm, what?”

Morgan pointedly stared at him and titled his head towards your direction. A movement lost to you as you noted Elle leaving Gideon’s office.

Spencer opened his mouth to catch your attention but before he could even utter your name, Elle intervened. “Question for you, the foot path killer. Why’d he stutter?”

You swiveled to face her, not having caught Spencer’s intent to speak to you. The unit chief then called them in for a case—an arson case in a university campus. His shoulders drooped as they rushed to the jet afterwards with no chance of small talk.

When there was a lull in the plane—case discussion finished, he steeled his already apprehensive nerves and took the chance, quickly wishing he hadn’t.

“S-so, your shirt’s yellow,” he stated out loud like it was some sort of revelation.

“Yes,” you drawled out, unsure as to where he was going with this. “That’s right, Spencer.”

He drummed his fingers on the table and continued on. “Did you know that airplanes tend to avoid the color yellow as it causes dizziness and nausea? A number of studies have shown those exact results and that’s why it’s almost never used in interiors of various forms of transportation and rarely use in advertising. It’s like how the red is the most common color used by restaurants as it psychologically makes the viewer hungry.”

You looked down on your top. Yellow was one of your favorites and you specifically chose this as Penelope said and you quote, it looks good on you, brings out your eyes. Boy genius would probably react to it too so naively you splurged on it. But this—this wasn’t the response you were hoping for. “Spence, are you saying my shirt is making you feel nauseous?”

He blushed and stammered out a strong refusal. “What, no! No! I—I meant to say—you, you look nice.”

You giggled under your breath, finding his long-winded route to giving you a compliment cute. “Nice nice or airsickness nice?”

“Nice! Just nice!” He defended on, his voice cracking at the end. He caught Morgan’s wide eyed gaze then as if he couldn’t believe what train wreck he just witnessed.

Cheeks heating up further, Spencer slouched in his seat and busied himself with the files wishing that he could build a memory eraser so he could wipe the events from his and the team’s minds or better yet, a time machine to redo the whole thing all over again.

The second move Spencer tried was advised by Elle Greenaway, the new recruit

“Do you think it’s weird that I knew that ballad?” He questioned during one of their cases in San Diego. It bothered him since the start of the case. How Morgan had teased him about his incapability of asking out the opposite sex. Never mind that you defended him right back, that’s a lie, it made him feel special that you did but the joke was still true. A cold stone truth.

Elle laughed, flipping her phone repeatedly on the table while waiting for the unsub to take the bait. “I don’t know how you know half the stuff you know, but I’m glad you do.”

“Do you think that’s why I can’t get a date?” He asked as he fiddled with the unfinished Rubik’s cube in his hands.

“Have you ever asked her out?”

There was no need to ask who Elle was referring to, everyone knew of his innocent—well maybe not so innocent at times specifically during his state of dreaming—crush for the second youngest member of the team. He shifted his eyes to focus a few tables before his—at you, sitting beside JJ. “No."

“That’s why you can’t get a date.”

One of the precincts phone then rang, it was the unsub, causing him to table that conversation in his vast memory.

———

There’s an English saying that states ‘the second time is the charm’ and Spencer was hoping there were some truth to the idiom even with no scientific explanation to back it up.

A few cases after San Diego, he got an opening that he was unexpectedly looking for. The team was on their way back from a case in Virginia. It was late and the profilers were all tucked in their little corners of the jet decompressing while you and Spencer were huddled on the sofa quietly discussing Doctor Who.

“How could you say your favorite is the Ninth Doctor when you haven’t even seen the older episodes?” He rambled, clearly he would have to do something about your limited knowledge in the great universe of Doctor Who. He’d like to explain it all, 695 episodes of the classic era to you. He’d take any topic really just to have your interest.

You stared into his hazel speckled eyes and smiled, amused by his reaction. “It’s a bit hard to catch up on a show that’s been around since the 70s. Plus, it’s a challenge to look for copies.”

“Actually, the show started in the 60s—1963, to be exact,” he clarified. “Garcia has copies we could borrow and watch together. If that’s—” he cleared his throat and clenched his fists closed, feeling his nails dig into his palms. “—that’s alright with you. If—if not, there’s a convention happening this weekend. I have an extra ticket, if you want to come with—only if you’re not busy, I mean.”

“And risk you spoiling every episode to me? I’d rather watch it alone, if you don’t mind.”

That dragged his optimism to a crash as if a twenty ton weight landed on his chest, rendering him immovable. Of course you were going to say no. There was no proof that you’d reciprocate his interests—he inwardly cursed himself for believing otherwise.

“But, I’d like to go with you to the convention,” you said and silently added as your date to yourself, shifting in your seat with a blush blooming on your cheeks at the thought. “Always wanted to go to one. If you’re fine with me not being in a costume. I think it’ll be too late to find one, don’t you think?”

Just like that, the weight on his chest lifted, making him feel weightless with glee. A wide smile grew on his face, threatening to burst his cheeks as he shook his head. “That’s alright! But you—you can always dress up as Rose!”

You titled your head to the side. “Rose?”

“You know, the Ninth Doctor’s companion?”

“I know who she is, Spence. I just thought you didn’t watch the revived series?”

He softly scoffed. “I never said that! I watched it too, mainly to compare it to the classics but I’ve seen it.”

You leaned in, wanting to ask about his opinion on it. “Well, what do you think? I happen to be part of the minority who think the actor who reprised the role did alright.”

He liked seeing you like this. It made him feel like a puppy who had his owner’s undivided attention. All wide eyed and interested in his conjectures as to why the actor was alright himself but the problems were his short stint—making people vilify him over that decision—and the material some of the writers came up with. He appreciated you nodding along and supplying your own thoughts on the subject. It warmed his heart that here was a beautiful, smart, and cool person—way out of his league, he might add—giving her precious time away to discuss a nerdy sci-fi show that he could not rant and rave to about to anyone on the team, except for Penelope, and she’s rarely on the field with them.

Your show of interest made him feel seen. Not as an agent with 3 PHDs, not as a genius with 187 IQ, but rather as a person with a right to express himself and occupy space. He wasn’t Agent Spencer Reid with you nor Dr. Spencer Reid, he was just Spencer who likes to watch Doctor Who and read literature in their original language.

The third move Spencer did was proposed by Penelope Garcia, the spirited tech analyst

“What do you mean you took her to a convention? For a date?” Penelope squeaked out, unable to comprehend the logic behind the genius’ actions.

“She said she always wanted to go,” Spencer stated as the elevator stopped on the fourth floor. He had fun over the weekend. Going around booths with you, listening to invited guest panels talk about the behind the scenes, explaining the reference every costume that you’ve pointed out, and just basking in your presence beyond cases. It was a memory he had replayed over and over after it had ended. It occupied his whole mind, and that’s saying a lot, causing him to do nothing and sit in his leather sofa and smile like a lunatic during the rest of the weekend.

“Well yeah, but that’s not date material! A date is supposed to be intimate—you and I go to conventions together, do you count that as a date?”

“What? No! No, of course not!”

“Exactly, boy wonder. Then what makes you think she’ll count that as a date?” She countered back as she entered her office with Spencer in tow.

Silence. Oh.

Penelope sighed, having read the despair painting his face. “Did you at least dress up as the Ninth Doctor?”

“What? No. No, I went as the Fourth Doctor. I even hand-knitted the scarf myself.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before repeating what she just heard. “You didn’t dress up as her Doctor?”

“No,” he paused, unsure where she was going with this. “Should I had?”

“Yes! Yes, you should have!” Penelope slapped his arm out of frustration. “Why didn’t you call me once she said yes? We could have talked game plan or strategy or at least have gotten you a leather jacket to match her choice of companion.”

“Oh, I messed up then, didn’t I?” He slumped despondently on the office chair. “You—you don’t think she thought of it as a date at all?”

She played with her feathered pen, trying to find a way to salvage it for Spencer. “Did you take her out to dinner after?”

He shook his head, finally realizing his mistake.

“Oh Spencer,” she approached gently. “I can scoop for details with Y/N later on and report back to you?”

He shook his head. It didn’t feel right to have Penelope betray your trust and go behind your back over a mistake that he made. You were a honest person and you deserved to be treated with respect and reverence even though all he wanted now was peer into your viewpoint of the date—not date—and figure out once and for all if you saw him as anything beyond a co-worker and a friend.

“Hm, I think I might just a solution,” Penelope blurted out of the blue.

He looked up with a sliver of hope blooming in his chest. Maybe third time’s the charm. Besides, Penelope was the colleague you spent most of your time out with. You once mentioned that you considered her your best friend, besides from him of course.

“You can bake her a batch of cookies! No one can say no to that,” she excitedly explained, believing it to be full proof—except for the fact that he doesn’t know how to bake. He wants to ask you out on a date but not to the expense of burning his whole apartment building down.

“I can’t—I can’t bake, Garcia,” he squeaked out. “Did you know that 44% of all reported home fires are caused by cooking and baking. Those fires have resulted in an average of 470 civilian deaths and 4,150 civilian—”

She interrupted. “I’ll give you my recipe and detailed instructions to follow. That’ll make it easy peasy for you, boy genius.”

“C-can’t I just buy from her favorite bakery instead?”

“No can do, Doctor. Her favorite cookies just so happen to be my creation. She told me so herself.”

“Well, can’t I just ask you to make it for me? I’ll buy the ingredients!”

“Nope,” she dragged out her refusal. “Think of it as an act of service to her. Plus don’t you think it’s highly romantic when she finds out that you baked them yourself?” She swooned just thinking about it.

“Romantic? It won’t be romantic when I burn my apartment down, Garcia.”

She sighed. “Fine, I’ll supervise if you want. This weekend, granted if we’re free. But you—” she pointed her feathered pen at him. “—better be prepared and I’m just supervising, okay? I’m not baking it myself.”

He sighed. At least having Garcia around would make it easier.

———-

It did not in fact make it easier. Spencer burnt two batches before six pieces were considered edible. Garcia couldn’t understand, hell, he also couldn’t. Baking was precise and from his scientific viewpoint, it was a lot like chemistry. He loved science and anything academic, so how is it that he failed miserably, twice, when it came to baking?

He shook his head as he entered the office. The first one—he stole a glance at Hotch’s office and saw movement—correction, the second one arriving early. Sometimes he wondered if the unit chief ever goes home, first in and last out.

He settled in his seat before promptly fidgeting from anticipation. Statistically speaking, you arrive earlier than Morgan or Elle which gave him enough time to gift the paper bag of cookies sitting hidden in his satchel without bringing attention to and embarrassing himself. He’d like to have little to no audience if he ever does mess it up for the third time.

He brought out the cookies, afraid they’ll get crushed between his hardbound books, and placed them on your desk before standing to wash his clammy hands and make coffee. Counter intuitive of him to do as he was already a bundle of nerves and by drinking caffeine he was doubling that but maybe the smell would calm him before shooting up his energy by drinking.

As he exited the mens room, Penelope stepped out of the elevator and squealed. “Is she here? Is she? Did I miss it?”

He shook his head vigorously, trying to silence her excited glees. “No, she’s not here yet. She’ll—” he looked at his watch and ran the numbers. “—be here soon. I’m about to brew coffee. Do you want some?” He opened the door for both of them to enter the bullpen.

“Ick, no thanks,” Penelope said, scrunching her nose at the thought of drinking even a sip before scurrying away to her cave. “I’d rather not ruin my taste buds on bad coffee.”

He laughed and turned towards the kitchenette. With the coffee brewing, he drummed his fingers on the counter and mentally rehearsed what he would say to you. If he practiced, there’s less chance of messing it up like the first time, right? In his state of concentration, he missed you entering the office in all of your beautiful glory.

“Ooh cookies!” you exclaimed as you opened the unknown package on your table.

Spencer abruptly turned, hitting his side on the corners as he did. His eyes widened as he registered you holding the unsigned paper bag of treats on your desk.

“They must be from Penny,” You continued on, oblivious to his presence and the devastation your remark caused him. Of course, he’d find another way to mess it up. You glanced around and your smile widened as you took in his handsome presence. “Oh hey Spence! Look, Penny made me cookies!” You tip-toed out of excitement.

He smiled at your enthusiasm for something as simple as treats in the morning. The giggle you gave out as you entered the kitchenette was enough for him to slightly care less for the truth. He loved bringing out the happiness in you. It was like his own personal sunshine shining down on him, soaking him with vitamin D and boosting his overall sense of wellbeing. “Do you want coffee with that? It’s still hot,” he offered.

You tapped the side of your hips with his as a sign of good will. “Thanks, Spence! This is turning out to be a great day, don’t you think?”

He watched as you busied yourself with putting cream and sugar in your of cup and sighed wistfully. “I think so too.”

And the last move Spencer did was recommended by no one but himself, the awkward 187 genius

With all three acts not delivering, he promised to try one last time without any outside interference besides from yours in his memory. You always did tell him to be himself in any situation, no matter how much he stumbled through any awkward situation—always there giving him a pat on the back for encouragement.

Over the weekend, he spent his time reading two of your favorite books—which didn’t take much but he did read them again and again, regardless of his eidetic memory, trying to understand why these specific books were your comfort. Always pushed within the confines of your go bag, dog-eared and brown from age. He wanted to know how they’ve become an extension of you and how it had shaped you to the woman he has fallen in love with.

He found himself hunched over his dining table, underlining sentences that made him think of you, scribbling away on the margins (and sometimes on post its too), and tabbing the written pages with a variety of colors that each represent an emotion. The act in it of itself made him feel closer to you than he thought possible. Lines in the books that made him think, ah so this was what formed your kind spirit. This is why your empathy knew no bounds. And this is why your beauty is inside and out.

Spencer laid down to rest, anxious for the next day, Monday, to come. His heart threatening to beat out of his chest but his mind oddly calm as if it had a precognition that everything would turn out just right.

———

You arrived earlier than he did, throwing him off balance.

“Hey Spence!” You greeted with a smile. “I got you a croissant and some coffee from that shop near my place.”

He blushed and stammered out a thank you. You were wearing a deep purple blouse that matched the scarf around his neck—the birthday gift you’ve given. He was no believer of the mystics but he took all of these as a sign from the stars. There was no way he would mess this up now.

“I—I got you something too,” he looked inside his satchel, hands shaking from it all. Gods, he wished this would go well or else, he might just die from embarrassment. “It’s nothing much but—I read your two favorite books and just—I wanted to discuss it with you,” he brought out the tabbed copies and presented them to you. “These are for you. I know you have copies of your own but I-I put my own notes on which lines reminded me of you.”

Your face turned red at the notion behind it all. Here was the BAU genius, the certified lover of the classics and the academia, the man who had your affections since day one, reading two contemporary literatures just for him to present you a gift like no other. You reached out and hugged the precious copies to your chest.

“Thank you, no one’s ever done this for me before,” you breathed out, falling deeper into attraction with the perfection in front of you. “ Hey Spence, I may sound delusional asking this and you can say no if you want to but—” you visibly gulped, unaware of the audience nearby. “—would you like to have dinner with me? I make a mean lasagna.”

He turned red and vigorously nodded. “Y-Yes. Yes, I’d love to have dinner with you.”

You giggled, sounding like wind chimes to his ears. He did too, giggle I mean, from the triumph of finally knowing that his feelings were willingly reciprocated.

“Finally, you love birds!” Morgan shouted as he swung his arm around Spencer. “Didn’t know how much we could take from this pretty boy—” pointing at him “asking for advice and you—” pointing at you “—pretty girl is as dense as a rock. Tell me again how’d you end up as profiler with those observation skills.”

A hand whacked him at the back. “Way to ruin the moment, Morgan.” Elle chided before turning to Spencer with a smile. “See told you, you could get a date.”

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #gw fics

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retrosabers · 5 months ago

Text

𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬.

*relationship & smut hcs written with fem!reader in mind*

contains: a lot of angst (mentions of insecurity, past trauma), some relationship fluff, 18+ SMUT CONTENT BELOW THE CUT. MINORS DNI (praise kink, dry humping, fem receiving oral, a tinge of dirty talk)

word count: 2.2k

a/n: if you had a dollar for everytime i apologized for not posting, boy would you be rich LMAO

this writer’s block is no bueno. but, i can sense my bucky era coming back full throttle and i think he might be the cure. enjoy these unnecessarily angsty hcs in the meantime ;) and feel free to share any of your own!

GENERAL/PERSONALITY:

is very fond of the outdoors. he’s not a “take a hike and run a mile” kind of guy, but he gets genuine enjoyment and relaxation from sitting on a park bench and breathing in the fresh air and soaking in his surroundings. one afternoon you surprised him with a trip to a botanical garden on the outskirts of the city and he absolutely loved it. you don’t think you’ve ever seen bucky more at peace than when he was wandering amongst the greenery without an ounce of tension in his body.

can’t stand clutter. once he warms up to acquiring more belongings, everything has its designated place and it needs to stay that way. call it a mild case of ocd, or an undying need to control the ins and outs of his day to day life, but bucky can’t even think about shutting down for the night if his apartment is a mess. any files out on the table get tucked away in a well organized filing cabinet, dishes are dried and placed in the cupboard, laundry is either in the hamper or folded neatly in its respective drawer. he keeps everything as neat and pristine and possible for the sake of his sanity.

one of the only useful pieces of advice he retained from therapy was journaling. bucky still struggles a bit with verbalizing his feelings, so he often just writes them all down in lieu of talking it out. after he realizes just how much it works, he starts to journal about his days in detail. doesn’t matter if he’s feeling calm, or anxious, or how mundane the itinerary is, he makes sure to document it. partly because of the relief it brings, and just in case something happens to his memory again.

secret candle enthusiast, except it’s just one specific scent. you bought it for him as a housewarming present and he was absolutely certain that it was going to smell atrocious. what could possibly be so great about amber vanilla musk. turns out it’s the most perfect gift you ever could’ve given, so much so that he snuck over to bath and body works the next day to buy another one. the aroma fits him in a way that’s indescribable, plus it makes his apartment feel more like somewhere he wants to be rather than has to. it’s become a running gag to gift him one for every special occasion, and he always accepts it with a small, appreciative smirk.

this man is a real life disney princess. animals follow him EVERYWHERE and he’s got no clue as to why. you say it’s because they can sense at his core that he’s kind and gentle, and he always waves it off with a frown and a grumble (and a blush he desperately tries to hide). he feeds all the strays on his block, and eventually caves and brings one of them home. when you went to his place and found a tiny white kitten sitting on the counter, you thought you were hallucinating. then bucky walked in and gave a little scratch between her ears and it all pieced together.

“i knew it,” you mutter knowingly, eyes fixated on the way she preens from his touch. “you’re just a big ol’ softie.” bucky doesn’t offer any sort of rejection or rebuttal, only a halfway pointed stare before simply scooping the little animal into his arms and showing her off to you like she was a rare jewel.

he is very opposed to listening to current music, and the only way you can even remotely convince him to give things a try is if they’re on vinyl. it’s a happy medium, because even though the tunes may be vastly different than back in the 40s, he still has the familiar comfort of a record player. it’s still an uphill battle to get him to listen to anything made after 1950, but persuasion comes a bit easier when you pull out a record from your personal collection.

*psst. i have a fic about this you can kinda read about this here*

introducing him to doordash was a mistake because this man racks up an insane charge on his credit card with takeout. he hates the unnecessary socialization aspect of ordering at a restaurant so you best believe those delivery apps are his best friend.

loves to bitch and complain about maintaining his bike when in reality he enjoys it far more than he’d ever care to admit. he likes being able to fix something; to put his hands to good use and they actually have a positive impact instead of negative. offers to help any of the old timers at the va with their bikes if they have any trouble.

you know how some people get seasonal depression during the winter months from the bleak weather? bucky has that times a million, because the bone chilling cold never fails to trigger his ptsd, and send him right back into reliving his hydra days of being frozen against his will. when you catch wind of it, you make it a note to try and spend as much time with him as you can; make sure he’s not alone or that he at least has something else to occupy his mind other than his traumatic memories as the winter soldier.

IN A RELATIONSHIP:

old fashioned in the best way possible. while he strongly agrees with most of the 21st century’s stance on gender equality, he’ll never stop believing it’s a man’s job to take care of his woman. don’t get it twisted, he never tries to stifle your independence; it’s one of the many things he loves about you. but bucky can’t help but be a little “old-timey”; whether that be paying for your meals, or encouraging you to take a day off to relax while he’s working. it’s one of the only things he’s happy to have hardwired in his brain.

not entirely fond of pda but will ALWAYS have a hand on you when you’re out and about. usually a protective arm slung over your shoulder or a hand pressed into the small of your back. something that keeps you close to him for safety reasons, and also to let everyone else know that you’re taken.

doesn’t like to admit it but he can be a tad bit possessive. when you’ve spent nearly a century having zero control over your life and your choices, being territorial is inevitable. bucky will be damned if he loses the one good thing he’s ever had, especially to some punk who needs to learn how to back off. it’s a bit irritating at first, but once he lets his walls down and confesses the reason behind his actions, you let the man stake his claim every now and then. only because you know there’s no toxic intent behind it and because it’s lowkey a little hot.

#1 cheek kisser oh my GOD. this might not make sense to some people but if you’ve ever seen grey’s anatomy, derek has the most gentle way of kissing meredith on the cheek and that’s exactly how i picture buck.

the “i hate everyone but you” boyfriend (except he’s not really mean to anyone per se, he just does a complete 180 and turns into a big pile of mush when you’re around.)

king of random gestures. he loves making you happy and will take just about any opportunity he can to see you smile. you got a raise at your job? there’s a bouquet with a note waiting at your desk. sometimes you’ll come home to little “just because” presents on your dining room table because bucky can’t help but find little glimpses of you everywhere he goes. it’s his unspoken way of showing just how much he loves and appreciates you.

when he’s tired and grumpy he 100% does grabby hands (with a sweet lil pout might i add) to get you to come into bed and it’s the cutest thing ever.

sam wasn’t kidding when he said bucky’s got a staring problem, but it’s much more endearing in a romantic context. he finds you so beautiful, so mesmerizing; how is he not supposed to stare? and it won’t always be because he’s admiring you externally. sometimes he’ll be so caught up thinking about how lucky he is that you; sweet, kind, funny, and caring you, chose him as your person. he can’t help it if his eyes are glued to you while he’s pondering. everytime you catch him, he breaks out that shy little smile of his, and you find yourself falling in love all over again.

“you’re staring y’know,” you tease, feeling your face warm under his observation. he just shrugs, gaze unwavering as he saunters closer. “can’t help it.” he always take pride in watching you grow flustered as he closes the gap and presses a sweet kiss to your lips.

hot take: everytime i see “doll” used in fics for him i cringe real bad. i see bucky as more of a “honey” and “sweetheart” kind of guy. more honey than anything. in all honesty, i don’t see him breaking out pet names often, but if he’s going to, it’s one of those.

throws you over his shoulder like it’s absolutely nothing when you’re being difficult or arguing because he knows it’s a way to help playfully ease tension, as silly as it is. if he can get you laughing then you’re not mad, and if you’re not mad, he can reason with you a little better. it also leads to some very delicious sex afterwards when he conveniently drops you onto the mattress.

he’ll do the sweetest thing where if your hands are full this man will come up behind you and either put your hair in a braid or a ponytail (a pretty decent one might i add) if you need it away from your face. it’s always sealed with a kiss to the crown of your head and a squeeze of your hip, and never fails to give you butterflies.

SMUT:

i swivel back and forth between thinking that he’d be a bit hesitant or shaky with intimacy or that he knows how to please a woman in under five minutes. i honestly believe it’s somewhere in the middle; that while he does indeed have experience from his whore days back in the 40s, nowadays he’s not as willing to get to that point with someone unless there are deep feelings involved.

with that being said, when bucky decides to take that step in your relationship, boy does it take you by surprise. there’s a level of confidence that comes with being able to satisfy someone with such skill and ease, and he’s got it down pat. he’s even a little bit cocky with it, looking down at you smugly after your first orgasm, and it only amplifies your already flaming attraction to the super soldier.

nine times out of ten, sex is focused on your pleasure; he’s not cumming until you’ve cum at least once, and he’s not giving you a half assed release either. no, he’s working hard to make sure you see stars every damn time.

pussy eating king and i don’t think i need to elaborate on that.

is always down for a good dry hump. bucky loves kissing, kissing you more than anything, and one day he was particularly worked up, and it just…well it just happened. he was bright red once he realized what happened, but you quickly quelled any embarrassment he felt when you expressed that it was insanely hot. he didn’t even remotely understand why, until the next time it occurred. you were the one who came prematurely. and that, was when bucky understood the arousal behind it. now he’s got no qualms about having a good old fashioned makeout that may or may not end with a shared orgasm.

praise kink praise kink PRAISE KINK. it’s something he tries his hardest to hide but the boner he pops whenever you tell him he’s doing a good job in non intimate settings, and the increased speed of his thrusts when it happens during sex, are a dead giveaway. you tell bucky he’s being so good for you, making you feel so fucking good, and that man’s a goner. in his brain, it’s refreshing, exciting almost, to be told that he’s doing the right thing after a lifetime of being forced to make the wrong choices. what better place to hear that he’s right on track than when he’s with his lover?

hung. as. fuck.

i don’t foresee him being very vocal, but when he is, jesus take the wheel. somehow he always knows what to say and when to say it, no matter how few and far between the occasions may be.

“that feel good honey? yeah that’s right it fuckin’ does.” “always gonna take real good care of my girl.”

i don’t care if he’s got the serum stamina i 100% see this man conking out after sex. while he may be able to last a few rounds, the second you call it quits, the exhaustion overtakes him and he’s snoring into your pillow, but not before he pulls you close and peppers your face with kisses, muttering a final “i love you” before succumbing to slumber.

thanks for reading! <3

taglist: @dameronology @j4desblurbs @pandapetals

#retrosabers #sid writes shit #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #the winter soldier #sebastian stan

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eomayas · 1 year ago

Text

distracted • hjs

pairing: husband&dad!joshua, wife&mom!reader, established relationship

genre: smut 18+ MINORS DNI!!!!!!!!! fluff, parent au, non-idol au

synopsis: reader is literally just feral for joshua

warnings: pwp, p in v, oral (m receiving), riding, praise, dirty talk, soft!dom!josh, breeding, josh calls reader a ‘slut’ (lovingly) once, reader & josh are parents, reader losing her mind over josh mainly. JOSHUA ARMS. unedited ;)))

a/n: i’ve experienced extreme joshua brainrot lately then did an extreme deep dive of jarms (joshua arms) until 2 in the morning. i am unwell and need him like a fish needs water

joshua pushes the shopping cart that holds groceries, and your daughter in the front of the basket, down the aisle. you trail a step or two behind them, mind a bit foggy and… distracted. you don’t know what it is, he’s just wearing a plain, white tshirt and blue jeans—he’s worn it before—and you’re running errands together like you always do. but today is different, and you can’t seem to comprehend a single thing going on around you, or really look at your husband without feeling mild insanity.

first, you’d wandered into the store in a daze, forgetting that joshua was grabbing the shopping cart with your daughter, after having sat in the front seat watching him drive for twenty minutes. his hand sat steady at ten and two, ever the safe driver when your daughter was present, though at stop lights he would sometimes grab your hand or settle his palm on your leg. you felt lost since the morning, woke up with your mind cloudy and your brain foggy just at the mere sight of him.

then, you couldn’t remember a single thing on your grocery list. in your clouded state, you must’ve forgotten the list in the kitchen; it wasn’t a big deal, except for the fact that you literally couldn’t think about a single thing that you needed to buy, and you are usually the one leading the pack around the store. so the three of you have been wandering around the grocery store for longer than you want to be, circling back to the same aisles you’ve already been on because you can’t remember what it is you need to buy.

now you’re back in the dairy aisle, unsure of why you’re back because youve already grabbed milk and cream cheese, so you’re just standing in front of the cold, double doors without a single thought in your head. “yogurt, maybe?” joshua tries, pausing his conversation with your child to help you out. you blink once, twice before mumbling out a ‘right’ and pulling the doors open and grabbing a container.

“mommy, that’s not the right one!” your daughter whines when you drop it in the basket. she’s frowning at you, eyebrows crinkled the same way joshua’s do. god. you make the mistake of looking up at him, and your entire body flushes you meet his gaze. his eyes are soft but questioning, asking if you if you’re alright without actually saying it. no, i’m not, you think to yourself, discreetly sweeping your hand up your neck to check your pulse. it’s fast, and you’re definitely still alive.

joshua watches you with mild concern; he’s noticed your strange, avoidant behavior since this morning when he got back from the gym. you had looked almost surprised when he walked into your bedroom, like you weren’t expecting him back. your eyes widened, and your lips parted like you were going to say something but nothing came out. he beat you to words, anyway, giving you a soft ‘good morning’ that made you blush—he’d ignored it because you seemed… off—and kissed you on the lips. he thought he really smelled with the way you rushed your lips off of his and rolled out of bed, nearly tripping over your own feet. joshua grabbed you so you wouldn’t fall, and he felt you tense in his hold, a frown etching on his features. he brushed it off and asked if you wanted to shower with him, expecting a ‘yes’ from the look that flashed through your eyes, but you instead mumbled something about having to make breakfast before hurrying out of the bedroom all together. you basically avoided him all day since then, never really looking at him or talking to him directly—none of which you do on a constant basis.

the yogurt was, in fact, incorrect down to the brand and flavor. “i’m sorry, baby,” you say to your daughter, running a hand over her hair before grabbing the yogurt to swap it out for the correct one, this time taking a few seconds to scan everything in the fridge. you appreciate the cold air from the refrigerator, as it cools you down from the rush of heat you feel along your face and neck. you take a breath and tell yourself to get a fucking grip before dropping the correct item into the cart.

“daddy, can i get ice cream?” your daughter asks joshua as you start ambling through the grocery store. you cut your eyes at your daughter for not asking you, but you know it’s because joshua never says no to her.

“of course, princess,” and you watch with pure adoration as he places a kiss on her forehead and she just giggles, scrunching her shoulders up to her ears. joshua is a good husband, but he’s an even better father, and you love watching him interact with your daughter. they have a special connection that you love to witness, a secret language just between the two of them. it’s moment like this where you want another kid—or maybe it’s part of the hazy mess you’re in because of his sheer existence.

you follow behind joshua towards the ice cream aisle. the shirt he wears is tight on him, straining against his biceps and shoulders. you can make out his back muscles depending on how the light hits the fabric, and you feel even crazier than before. his muscles have been the source of your you distracted state today. joshua has always been muscular, and he’s always worked out, but something about him recently has flipped a switch in your brain that has made you feel absolutely feral every time you catch a mere glimpse of his arms—which is quite literally every day. this morning it was too overwhelming, him coming home and shedding his jacket to reveal himself in a simple black tank top that looked a size too small, and gray sweats that made you feel like you needed to go to confessional.

another rush of cold air pulls you out of your lustful daze and you stand at the back of the shopping cart as joshua shuffles through the cartons of ice cream, asking your daughter her input. you try to keep your eyes focused on your daughter, anything else, but cant help when they drift over to your husband, his arms flexing each time he grabs a pint and displays it to your daughter. joshua casts a glance at you, a smile that says can you believe this? when you daughter shakes her head for the fourth time, despite not asking to look for herself. you blush under his gaze, heat spreading down your neck and chest before settling in your stomach.

"i thought you liked the oreo one?" you say to your daughter, voice slightly hoarse. you smooth a hand over her hair to give yourself something to do, hands a little clammy from all of your nerves working overtime.

"i do..." she trails off, turning to look at you with a tiny pout on her lips.

"tell daddy before he freezes," you say, placing a soft kiss on her cheek. just the mere reference to joshua feels heavy in your mouth, makes your stomach flutter for reasons you can't really explain.

joshua places the pint of oreo ice cream into the cart, circling around to the front and playfully ticking your daughter under her chin. she giggles loudly and you smile as you watch her become a spitting image of her father. arms cage you between the carts handlebar and a firm chest, and suddenly your eyes are no longer on your kid but on the strong, veiny forearms that belong to your husband. “excuse me,” he murmurs, a teasing lilt to his voice like he knows that you’re losing your mind at the simple sight of him.

wordlessly, you gently grab his right arm to remove yourself from his entrapment. “hey,” joshua says softly, reaching out for your wrist as you move swiftly to get away from him. turning, goosebumps arise on your skin, and you tell yourself that it’s because his hands are ice cold. “you okay, honey?” your stomach flips and you press your lips into a small smile, nodding.

joshua stares at you for a beat before leaning down a few inches, silently begging for a kiss. you nearly combust at the thought, not trustworthy of yourself to behave normally in public. but his eyes are fond, and you love him so much and want him so bad that you raise up on your toes and brace yourself on his shoulders before delivering a soft, quick peck to his lips. you’re proud of yourself for holding back, but joshua isn’t satisfied because he stays leaned over in the spot you kissed him in for a few seconds after the fact that you’ve pulled away. if you were at home, he’d yank you back to him but because you’re in public he files that grievance away and straightens up.

“i want a kiss,” your daughter pouts, cutely crossing her arms over her chest. since she doesn’t specify from whom, both of you lean in and press kisses to her cheeks. her giggle ripples through you, filling your stomach with butterflies and your chest with a type of love reserved only for her. you’re momentarily pulled away from your joshua shaped daze, until his hand is settling on your lower back. it chilling, his touch, and it’s not because his hands are ice cold from standing in the grocery store freezer for two minutes.

a shiver runs up your spine and you slip out of his grasp, not paying attention to where or what you’re walking into until joshua is pulling you back into him, his hand splayed across your stomach and your back colliding with his chest. “babe, watch out,” a woman pushing a cart stops short, a look of remorse on her face.

“oh my god, did i hit you?” she asks, and you figure you must look injured or something, because she looks genuinely concerned for your wellbeing. the flush on your face is not due to the fact that you were almost ran over, but because joshua hasn’t moved his hand from your stomach and hasn’t put any distance between your back and his front. he stays pressed against you, holding you firmly in front of him, his hold tightening ever so slightly.

“n-no, i’m alright,” you manage, lips tingling. “i swear.” you add when her eyebrows don’t drop from her hairline. at that, she seems to believe you enough snd offers you a smile and a curt nod before hurrying down the aisle.

“are you alright, honey? you’re trembling,” joshua says, his deep voice like melted wax running down your back. you make the mistake of looking up and over your shoulder at him, his palm pressing into your lower belly.

he peers down at you with soft eyes, ready to question you again until your tongue darts out to wet your lips before you tuck your bottom lip under your top one and nod. he knows the look in your eyes all too well—hunger, but not for food—and heat pools in his chest. joshua is much better at hiding his desire for you, especially in public and in front of your child, and he’s able to keep his expression the same, pretending he never saw that look in your eye. “i’m fine,” you’re shuffling away from him again, this time checking to make sure you’re not seconds away from being ran over with a shopping cart.

somehow, you three mange to finish your shopping trip without anymore mishaps. it requires circling back to the same aisles more than once because neither you nor josh can remember what you wanted to buy, but at least you can say you’re done. joshua loads the groceries into the trunk while you buckle your daughter into the backseat. she yawns, stretching her little arms up and out. “sleepy?” you ask her, a small smile on your face.

“no,” she says, vehemently shaking her head. you chuckle hum a sound of disbelief before dropping a kiss on her forehead and going to the front seat. the trunk closes and you suck in a breath as you watch him in the rearview mirror. he brushes his hand through his hair, and even through the mirror and the tint of the trunk window, you can make out his bicep muscle flexing with the motion.

it’s nearly pathetic how horny you feel just looking at him—like an overgrown teenager who just got into their first relationship. except you’re an adult, married to this man, and this behavior is no longer considered ‘cute’.

joshua gets into the front seat and smiles at you, leaning over the console to give you a kiss. his hand rests on the side of your neck, and you wonder if he’s trying to check your pulse, to mess with you. you keep your hands to yourself, because if you touch him, you might never stop.

pulling back from your mouth, he looks into your eyes before flicking them back down to your lips. joshua starts to lean in but seems to remember you’re not alone, and sits back in his seat, his hand lingering on your neck for a moment before he starts the car and asks your daughter if she’s ready to go.

the car ride is quiet, save for your daughters yawns and insistence that she is not tired. she makes most of the noise, talking about random things that you and joshua entertain with ease. he watches her in the review mirror with real, unconditional love in his eyes. it does nothing to help your situation, and just makes you want to give him another baby.

when you arrive back at your house, you quickly get out of the car, grateful to get out of the stuffy, suffocating feeling of being in the front seat. you walk around the back and help your daughter out, ready to carry her inside until she exclaims, “i want to help!”

you ser her down on the ground and she runs over to joshua. you watch him give her two of the lighter bags of groceries, and raises her arms to show you, a big smile on her face. you smile back and press in the garage code and tell her to go inside of the house, seemingly leaving you and joshua alone. you sidle up next to him, and joshua lightly bumps his hip into yours. “hmm?” you question without looking up from the numerous bags in the back of the car.

“why are you avoiding me?” he asks, and the directness makes your hands clam up.

“i’m not avoiding you,” you say, taking a few grocery bags and backing up from him.

“you quite literally are.”

you stare up at him, his eyebrows knitted together in slight irritation. “i still love you, if that’s what you’re asking,” you clarify. his features soften and his shoulders relax a bit. those shoulders. your eyes drifts down his figure, lingering on his flexed forearms, veins bulging out from the tension of carrying the grocery bags.

joshua watches you obviously ogle and check him out, his entire figure relaxing at his realization. “oh, i get it now,” he teases, a slow smirk sliding across his lips.

“get what?” you play dumb, taking a tentative step backwards before turning around and trying to keep your walk casual as you walk through the garage. it’s so obvious you’re trying to keep space between the two of you, putting anything in the way to keep you off of him.

“that you wan-“ joshua cuts himself off because you push open the door that leads you into the house. he clears his throat and closes the garage door before following behind you into the kitchen. your daughter is standing on her tippy toes trying to reach a cupboard that’s way to high for her, concentration etched on her face. “need help, bub?” he asks, setting his bags down on the counter.

“i can’t reach,” she whines, yawning immediately after. joshua lifts her up into his arms and opens the cupboard for her abd allows her to put the item away. “i’m tired, daddy.” she rests her head on his shoulder, tiny arms encircling around his neck.

you watch them and you feel your heart grow three times in size, like the grinch. joshua coos at her and pats her head before agreeing to put her down for a nap. you busy yourself with unloading the groceries, stomach flipping at the thought of having at least an hour alone with your husband. you can’t believe how depraved you feel.

joshua comes back downstairs a few minutes later, right when you’re putting the last thing into the fridge. “you finished?” he asks. you nod, heart hammering in your chest as he walks over to you. his hands drop onto your hips, pulling you flush against him. you keep your eyes straight ahead, leveled wirh his chest, and joshua dips his head down to meet your eyes. “see: you’re avoiding me.”

hear creeps up your neck and you shake your head. “i’m not.”

“don’t try to gaslight me,” he teases, making you roll your eyes and finally look up at him. “there she is.” he murmurs, leaning down a few centimeters to connect your lips. your hands flatten against his chest, and he walks your backwards into one of the kitchen counters. joshua leans over you, trying to press you flat against the surface despite the lack of space.

“shua,” you breathe once you pull away when he unbuttons your jeans.

“what, you’ve got somewhere better to be?” he asks, arching one of his eyebrows.

“i… i have to do laundry…” you say halfheartedly. joshua laughs at this, dropping his forehead against yours. “i’m serious!” you say, but you’re smiling too. “i want to go back to avoiding you.”

joshua pulls back to look down at you, making a face that says for what? “i thought you wanted me to fuck you?”

“yeah, i’m afraid nothing will keep me off of you if we start,” you say honestly. joshua blushes deeply, a boyish grin on his face. “i want you so bad—i think i might be ovulating? i don’t know. i just want you so. bad.” you punctuate the last part with the press of your knuckles into his chest.

“you’re ovulating?” it’s like bells went off in his head.

“maybe, i don’t know. i don’t keep track of that shit. i just need an explanation for how i feel,” you say, hands sliding along his chest absentmindedly.

joshua raises both of his eyebrows at you, fake shock on his face. “maybe because you have a super hot and sexy husband who is also a really good father? just a hunch.”

“no, i don’t think that’s it,” he rolls his eyes at you and you giggle, balling his shirt up into your fists and pulling him down to you. joshua grips onto the counter to steady himself, his hold tight enough to turn his knuckles white. he presses his pelvis into yours, his his erection pressing against your leg.

joshua wraps an arm around you and splays his hand across the small of your back. he presses you down onto the counter and you grip his shoulders tightly, craning your mouth away from his to breathe out, “not here.” he pulls you up from the counter and looks down at you, his chest moving up and down quickly. you can practically see the gears turning in his head as he thinks about a place to fuck you that won’t bring attention to the two of you. “laund-ah!” he swoops you up into his arms easily, already carrying you in the direction of your laundry room before you can even get the entire word out.

you wrap your legs around his waist as you buzz with need and anticipation. you let yourself revel at being carried by him after lusting over his arms all day. he carries you like you’re weightless, with his his hands resting under your ass for support. “god,” you whisper to yourself, pressing a kiss into his neck.

“i love you,” he rasps as he enters the laundry room. he shuts and locks the door behind him before dropping you onto the washing machine. his hands are flying to undo the buttons of your blouse and you pull him closer using your ankles that are still wrapped around him.

“love you more,” you murmur, helping him with removing your top. “your turn.” your urge, pulling the hem of his shirt.

“sure you can handle it?” he teases. you flush and lightly push at his abdomen. “don’t wanna make you pass out or anything.” he smirks at you, loving to watch you squirm.

“i can handle it,” you say, feeling so embarrassed to even be in this position. luckily, joshua is sweet to you above all and draws you in for a kiss. you skate your hands up underneath his shirt, nails lightly scratching against his torso. “take it off.” you mumble against his lips, hands pushing up the material of his shirt. you feel like you could rip him out of the fabric.

joshua pulls back and makes an entire show of getting undressed. he runs a hand through his hair and purposefully flexes his bicep as he does so. if this was any other time, you’d roll your eyes and call him annoying. but today, all you can do is watch and try not to drool.

he pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it into an empty laundry basket nearby. you waste no time leaning forward and pulling him into a kiss, threading your fingers through his hair. you move to kiss his jaw and then his neck, your hands sliding down his body. you kiss across his chest, going lower until the position becomes uncomfortable. lightly shoving him, you hop off of the washing machine and drop to your knees in front of him.

joshua watches you with dark eyes, holding onto the edge of the machine. you fumble with his belt, hands shaking with anticipation of finally having him, and he makes no effort to help you out. your hands work too fast, and you mess up when you try to pull the buckle open for the second time. “i’ve got all day,” he say smugly. you ignore him, and finally pull his belt free. you work his pants down to his ankles, leaving. him in just his briefs. you let out a breath and look up at him with pure lust. “as pretty as you look right now, you’d look much better with my cock in your mouth.”

quickly, you pull his underwear down and let them pool together with his pants, hands flying to grab ahold of his member. you pump him a few times, flicking your eyes to look up at him. joshua gives you a slight nod, signaling you to start sucking, and you eagerly oblige. sticking your tongue out, you lick up the precum that dribbles out of the tip before you wrap your lips around the head and push him into your mouth, cheeks hollowing as you go. a groan escapes joshua’s mouth and he gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail.

you drag him into your mouth inch by inch, your eyes never once leaving his. his chest heaves up and down, moving faster and faster the closer you get to taking him all the way. tears prick in your eyes when he hits the back of your throat, but you keep going until your nose nearly presses into his hips. “shit,” he whispers, leaning more of his weight into the washing machine.

you bob your head up and down, pulling back and stroking what doesn’t fit. you swirl your tongue around the tip, cheeks hollowing to create more suction when you suck on the tip. joshua moans lowly above you and tells you how good you’re doing. his eyes flutter shut, squeezed shut in pleasure and his chin drops down to his mouth. you want his eyes on you, want him to watch you as you make him feel good, so you purposefully scrape your teach against his dick to get his attention.

his eyes fly open as he jerks back from you, glaring at you when you smile around him. “brat,” he spits and tightens his grip on your hair. you sigh through your nose and press your thighs together, cunt throbbing with need. you keep bobbing your head, speeding up slightly and taking more of him into your mouth. when joshua presses your head down, you relax your throat and let him take control, hands moving to hold onto his thighs. “good girl.” he grunts, holding your head down on his dick for a few seconds until you gag, and then he pulls you off of him.

he does this a few more times, his cock twitching against your tongue. tears gather in your eyes but you power through, determined to make him cum. he pulls you down onto him, cursing each time he hits the back of your throat. “fuck, you take me so well. i’m c-close,” tears slip down your cheeks and mix in with the spit and cum. your face is a mess, but neither of you care.

joshua fucks his cock into your mouth, holding your head steady in his hands. you dig your nails his thighs to combat the ache in your jaw. he thrusts into your mouth until he can’t take the feeling of your warm mouth around him anymore, his cum shooting into the back of your throat. you keep your mouth open to catch all of his seed, some of it gathering around the corner of your lips. “s-swallow,” he demands when he pulls his cock away from your mouth.

you obediently swallow, and he whines in the back of his throat. “goddamn, i love you,” he holds his hands out to you and helps you up onto his feet. he wipes the corners of you lips with his thumb and shoves it into your mouth, lips parting when you suck on his thumb like you just did his cock. “youre such a slut.” he murmurs, a loving gaze in his eyes.

a trail of saliva connects your lips to his thumb when you pull it out of your mouth. “promise?” you ask.

joshua smiles and pulls you into a kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth. his hands make use of unbuttoning your jeans and shoving his hands down your pants. your panties are damp, and he’s a bit shocked and honored that you’re this wet for him. “i need you,” you whine, peppering kisses down his neck. you don’t even want his fingers, just want him inside of you.

“i know,” he rasps, slipping a finger between your folds. you shudder when he touches you, his finger playing with your arousal and brushing over your clit, just to make you jump. you clench around nothing, and it’s nearly painful how turned on you are.

“joshua!” you whine, nipping at his neck. his hand immediately grabs onto your hair and yanks, a hiss emitting from your lips followed by a smirk.

“needy brat,” he grumbles, walking the two of you over to the work bench in the room. he drops onto it and spreads his legs invitingly. you quickly step out of your jeans and underwear, his eyes roaming over your body. “you’re a beautiful, y/n.”joshua says sincerely; at the end of the day, he is simply a lover boy.

you smile at him and quickly drop yourself onto his lap, straddling him and wrapping your arms around his neck. you reach between the two of you and position yourself over his cock. his hands grip onto your hips tightly and guide you down onto him, bottom lip drawing in between his teeth.

“ah-fuck!” you cry when you sink onto the tip, the initial stretch rippling through you.

“you’ve got it, baby,” he encourages, thumbs rubbing sift circles into your hips. you bite down on your bottom lip, hands gripping tightly onto his shoulders as you sink lower and lower onto him. “goddamn, girl.” he grunts, hips bucking when you clench around him.

when you manage to take all of him, you sit still and catch your breath, head resting on his shoulder. joshua unhooks your bra and you lean back to slide it off your arms. “you okay?” he asks, hands groping your chest.

“uh huh,” you rasp, taking it as a sign to start fuckign him, licking your lips and raising your hips before dropping onto his lap. “fuck, shua.” whimpers leave you lips as you fuck yourself onto him, using his shoulders as leverage to move yourself up and down. joshua relaxes into the wall, his grip on your hips loosening as you gain momentum and find a rhythm.

“you’re so tight,” he groans, one of his thumbs finding your clit and rubbing slow circles around the sensitive nub. “been thinking about fucking you all day.” joshua sighs and rubs your clit quicker, eyes peering up to watch your facial expressions. “you need me as bad as i needed you?” he mumbles, voice low and husky.

“more,” you pant, still bouncing up and down on him. your cunt clamps around him like it’s trying to keep him there. “shuaaa!” you whine, thighs burning. you sit on his lap, rolling your hips into his.

he chuckles breathlessly, rolling his other thumb over one of your nipples. “yeah? tell me,” he grins at you devilishly, this side of him only coming out in your intimate moments.

“so bad,” you cry, grinding down onto his lap. “w-wanna give you a-another baby.” you squeeze around him involuntarily, a knot forming in your stomach. joshua twitches inside of you at the mention of having another child.

“yeah? want me to fill you up?” you whimper and nod, legs starting to shake. “want me to fuck you full of my cum until you’re pregnant again?” he lets go of you breast to place both hands underneath your ass. he lifts you up and drops you down, a show of his strength as he fucks you up an down onto him.

joshua grumbles filthy things into your ear; tells you that he’s gonna fuck you until you can’t walk, that he’s gonna stuff you full, that’s he’s going to give you another baby tonight. “f-fuck! i-im gonna cum,” you cry, throwing your head back in pleasure. he bucks his hips up into you, hitting that spongy spot inside of you repeatedly.

spots blur your vision and your cunt spasms around him as you reach your climax. it hits you like a thousand bricks, and you’re shaking in his arm and crying out his name. you expect him to stop, but he keeps thrusting up into you, drawing out your orgasm further. you can hardly think through the waves of pleasure, which is why you hardly register that he’s lifted you up until you’re placed on a cold surface.

joshua drags you to the edge of the washing machine and slams his cock into you, nearly knocking the wind out of you. “o-oh my god,” you gasp, tears brimming in your eyes for the second time tonight. “you feel so good!”

he drives his hips into you brutally, his fingers digging into the fat of your thighs. “f-fuck, i’m not gonna last,” he groans, dropping his head into your neck. he kisses your skin and lightly bites, though not hard enough to leave marks. you cling to him, arms secured around his shoulders like you may fall if you dont hold on.

his thrusts get sloppier by the second, indicative of his nearing climax. “i love you,” you breathe, nails clawing at his back. he grunts, whining out curses as he cums inside of you, his dick twitching between your walls. he stills, fingers applying bruising pressure to your hips.

after a few moments, he lifts his head from your shoulder and looks at you, a tender smile on his face. he presses his lips to your gently, sighing against you as he goes soft. “shit,” he pants, followed by a light chuckle.

you can’t help but giggle back, running a hand through his hair. he doesn’t want to pull out, not yet at least, wanting to make sure his cum stays inside of you as long as possible. he lets go of your thighs and wraps his arms around you, squeezing you into his chest. you kiss the column of his throat, right on his adam’s apple and rubs soft circles into your back.

“we should clean up,” he murmurs, starting to draw back from you. you make a sound of disagreement and squeeze around him on purpose. “b-brat.” he stammers, curling away from you.

he pulls out of you with a lewd squelch, both of you turning light shades of pink at the noise. he helps you off of the washer and you lean against it. he finds a random towel and comes back to wipe between your legs before cleaning himself off and tossing it in the same basket he threw his shirt in. “i guess i could start a load,” you say, looking at all of the discarded clothes, making joshua laugh.

he helps you gather them up and drop them into the washer. you add in the detergent and slam the top closed. except, when you go to start the washer, joshua places a hand on your back and presses you flat against the washer and slots his knee between your legs to spread them open. you don’t get a chance to prepare yourself because he’s pushing into you again, a strong arm wrapping around your middle to hold you steady as he fucks into you from behind, determined to get you pregnant tonight.

#svt smut #svt imagines #seventeen x reader #svt x you #svt x reader #seventeen x you #seventeen smut #joshua x reader #joshua fluff #joshua smut #hong jisoo #hong jisoo x reader #hong jisoo smut #hong jisoo fluff #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #svt scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios

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greengoblinswifey · 8 months ago

Text

Super Eater—Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader

summary— nicholas loves eating your pussy, anywhere and anytime. based on this request.

warnings— oral(f receiving), overstimulation, praise kink, pussy worshiping.

a/n—the title is actually sending me LMFAOAOA. working on the requests slowly but surely <3

Nicholas had a devotion to your pleasure that was almost relentless. Every so often, he’d give you this look—a mix of awe and pure need, and you’d know exactly what he wanted, to eat you out. It didn’t matter where you were; he was completely undeterred by anything. He did not care. All he cared about was his tongue in your pussy.

One night, the two of you were driving back from a date, winding down a quiet road surrounded by trees. Without warning, Nicholas pulled over, his face determined and eyes gleaming. “Nick, what are you doing?” you asked, your laughter mingling with excitement.

He gave a sheepish grin before his voice dropped to a murmur, filled with that familiar intensity. “You know I can’t wait, I need to taste you now.” The night proceeded with your legs in the air in the backseat of his car, and him not caring about the slight uncomfortable position he was in as his tongue sucked on your clit.

Then there was that afternoon while out shopping. The two of you had barely stepped into a dressing room when Nicholas gave you a look that you recognized all too well. “We’re in public,” you whispered, but he only shook his head with a playful smile.

“No one will hear,” he reassured, already leaning in. “I just need to show you how much I love eating your pussy.”

At a family gathering, Nicholas found a chance to slip away with you upstairs, where he gently pulled you into an empty bathroom. You let out an incredulous laugh, whispering, “This is not the place.” But he just gazed at you, completely unbothered, his cheeks flushed with his usual sweetness yet edged with that fierce determination.

“I don’t care,” he murmured, his voice reverent. “I need to feel you cum on my tongue.”

As usual, you gave in to his need and ended up with your own panties in your mouth as Nicholas lapped at your juices. Your taste was better than anything his family had cooked that evening.

Another time, the two of you were at Cooper Koch’s rooftop party. The music thumped in the background, people mingling just outside the stairwell where you both slipped away. He had that look again, and you couldn’t help but giggle as he pulled you close. “Here? Seriously?”

With a soft, unbothered grin, he whispered, “I just need a few minutes to eat you out baby, you drive me insane.”

After each of these spontaneous moments, you couldn’t help but ask him. “Nick, I don’t get it. You love doing this more than anything. Why?”

He chuckled, a hint of a blush coloring his cheeks, before looking at you with complete sincerity. “I don’t know if I can put it all into words. It’s fucking everything about you,” he said, voice reverent, “the way you smell, the way you taste, I love watching you lose yourself, how you get all squirmish.” His voice softened even more, gaze affectionate yet intense. “I just want to make love to you like this. Make love to your pussy, show you how much I fucking love it. It’s about you and making you feel good, that’s all I fucking need.

His words though so dirty, left you feeling adored, with no doubt of just how deeply he cared about your pleasure. He absolutely worshiped you, especially your pussy. He always believed women when they would talk about the power of the pussy due to how much power yours had over him. It was like it was tethered to him, like it called out to him. Like it craved his skillful tongue the way he craved to taste and savor it too.

One night, a particular premiere you attended was packed, the energy high, and the atmosphere electric. You and Nicholas had just snuck into the bathroom for a quick breather when he turned to you, eyes filled with a familiar look of lust.

“Nicholas, no,” you whispered, laughing softly as he stepped closer, his hands wrapping around your waist. “We can’t, not here.”

“I need to,” he murmured, almost pleading, voice husky and low as he licked his lips. “Please, I can’t wait. I know you’re aching to have my mouth on that clit.” His lips ghosted along your jaw, and before you could say no again, you felt yourself giving in.

The way he touched you was always more than gentle—it was worshipful, his mouth leaving you breathless and gripping onto him for support as he’d make you feel like you were the only person in the world. His skillful movements had a way of knowing exactly what you needed, drawing out every little sound until you couldn’t think straight.

When you finally left the bathroom, both of you were trying not to laugh, cheeks flushed and pulses racing. You caught a knowing smile from Cooper waiting outside who must have heard, and Nicholas just pulled you close, grinning as you both walked away, hands intertwined.

“That was risky,” you said, breathless and still tingling.

He just smiled, leaning close to whisper, “Worth it. That pretty fucking pussy is worth every second of it.”

He loved when you were in the comfort of your own home, how he could bend you over anywhere, and anytime—not that he couldn’t and didn’t do the same thing when you were out. It’s just that being at home made him able to savor you even more. There was no one to interrupt, no reason to look over his shoulder, no reason to make it quick.

If you were in the kitchen making something in those tiny little booty shorts, your coils free and just one of his t shirts draped over you, he’d hike it up, pulling down your little shorts and burying his face in your plump ass, his tongue darting to lick your pussy from the back. You’d be standing up convulsing, your hand gripping the counter as he knelt down behind you, absolutely ravishing you like a man possessed.

He would not stop until your legs turned to jelly and you’d fall to your knees, but he was relentless.

On this particular night, something feral awakened inside him. He was always feral but there was something different. Maybe it had to do with you being out of the country with your girls for the week and not having any physical contact. Whatever it was, it had Nicholas worked up the moment you left and the moment you called him to pick you up from the airport.

He hugged you tightly, placing your bags in the trunk and you immediately noticed that familiar glint in his eye. You sighed internally, knowing this would probably lead to a session on the side of the road but you were shocked when he just drove straight home. Though, his hand remained on your thigh the entire drive, moving to your clothed pussy and rubbing periodically.

“Fucking hell you tortured me,” he began, “one whole fucking week without your pussy in my mouth.”

You rolled your eyes, staring out the window as you pulled into the driveway, not knowing just how serious and feral he was.

You barely finished your long, relaxing bath when Nicholas appeared, sweeping you into his arms before you could even catch your breath. His lips crashed against yours, desperate and needy, his hands trailing over your still damp skin as he pulled you close.

“I missed you,” he murmured, his voice thick with longing. “I missed your taste, your scent, the way you’d writhe under my touch, scream my name, fucking everything. I need that pussy, now.”

His intensity left you breathless, and before you knew it, he was leading you toward the bed. “Sit on face,”he whispered, eyes dark with anticipation. “Let me show you just how much I worship this pussy.”

You felt a shiver run through you as you settled above him, and he looked up at you with a grin, his hands holding you close as he murmured, “Perfect.” His movements were filled with a fierce, passionate need, each touch and kiss a reminder of how much he’d missed you, his hands steadying you while he worshiped every inch.

The feeling was like ecstasy, you were high in the clouds from the way he lapped at your juices, his tongue flat against your pussy then curling and flicking exactly where you needed it.

His little moans of content had you shivering and holding on to the bed frame for support.

You gasped, overwhelmed by his intensity, and he looked up, grinning as he said, “Don’t hold back, I want it all.”

You couldn’t hold back if you wanted to, his tongue was practically penetrating your hole as he shoved it inside, sucking and licking everything that came out of you.

“I love this pussy, you’re amazing, everything about you,” he groaned.

Your cries grew louder and more desperate, each time you felt like you were on the edge, he’d slow down his movements.

“This pussy is heaven, I’d die if I couldn’t have my mouth on it.”

“God, mm- this fucking pussy has me in a chokehold.”

“So tight, you’re just clenching around my tongue.”

“You’re so perfect, this pussy is perfect in every single way.”

“I could have you on top of me for the rest of eternity.”

“Grind on my face, rub your pussy all over my face, give it to me baby.”

His words had you sobbing in pleasure, and he kept you on edge so you could get even more sloppy and needy for him. Your pussy practically soaked his mouth and was dripping down his chin.

“Please Nick, I really need to cum,” you pleaded.

“Just a bit more baby, I need to have you soak me a little bit more.”

Nicholas had you on the edge for what felt like forever, teasing and taking his time, his mouth moving over your pussy with a focus that made every nerve in your body come alive. He looked up at you now and then, that glint in his eye as he paused just when you were about to fall over the edge, whispering praises and reassurances.

“Fuck, I’d do anything for you, you have me under your spell,” he murmured, his voice warm and low, sending another shiver through you. “So perfect for me, every single part of you.”

Every time you felt yourself getting closer, his pace would change, drawing you back just enough to keep you in a state of dizzy anticipation. The way he looked at you, like you were all he ever wanted, made you melt as he made love to your pussy and worshiped you.

Finally, when he decided you’d had enough, he held you steady and whispered, “Let go for me baby, I want you to squirt all over my face, I’ve got you.”

At his words, the dam inside you finally broke, and the release was overwhelming. You trembled beneath his touch, feeling completely lost in the intensity of it as he held you, anchoring you through every moment. You soaked him, your orgasm spraying from you as his face and chest was drenched in your juices. His grin, proud and gentle, was the last thing you saw as he lifted you from on top of him lay you down and kissed you softly, murmuring, “Perfect. My perfect girl.”

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