#With a horrible weather of course | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tojicide · 25 days ago

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DOCTOR, DOCTOR! ☆ ZAYNE LI.

summary. when you’re feeling under the weather, doctor zayne is quick to prescribe you with what he knows will have you feeling better in no time.

warnings. fem!reader. nsfw. smut, fluff. pet names. boyfriend!zayne. praise, masturbation, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), cockwarming, unprotected p in v, mirror sex, creampie, aftercare. the rocking chair is featured.

wc. 3.9k

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Zayne is an intelligent man, that much was evident, but for the first time in his career, he’s absolutely stumped.

Why is that, you may ask? Well for starters, you, his beloved girlfriend, have been a bit distant lately. Not cold, not rude, but distant.

With his busy schedule, he didn’t see much of you during the day, and by the time he got home, you were usually fast asleep. It was easy to think that he was simply missing you and that was why his brain had led him to feel this rift between the two of you, but alas, he couldn’t be more wrong.

This entire ordeal truly got him thinking…

He saw a few tissues in the trash bin—perhaps you were catching the common cold. But when he prepared a spoonful of bitter medicine and a glass of water to wash it down, he was met with your denial that you masked with a smile.

If it wasn’t that, what could it be? Zayne asked the same question.

Maybe you were stressed out because of work. He finds that to be probable, so he made it a point to get home as early as he could last night to give you a massage after he cooked you your favorite meal.

You seemed to be soothed by his touch, murmuring a few ‘ah’s and ‘ooh’s of satisfaction as his skilled hands threaded into the tense muscles of your shoulders. Once you were at ease with your head resting back on his chest, he gave you a tender kiss on your cheek before he turned in for the night.

Call him overly analytical, but when it took you awhile to join him, he had a feeling that the massage hadn’t quite accomplished what he hoped it would have.

His mind then started to wander even further. Had he forgotten to run the dishwasher? No, of course not. Had he forgotten to pay the utility bill? Absolutely not, he took his credit score very seriously, and a late payment was simply unlike him.

Had he forgotten to put the toilet seat down…? Okay, he definitely did, but that couldn’t be why you were acting so unlike yourself.

And then, as he sat at his desk with a fresh plate of food in front of him, it dawned on him. When was the last time you orgasmed? More importantly, when was the last time he’d given you one himself?

It was almost inhuman how fast he jumped up from his office chair to inform Yvonne that he would be out for the remainder of the afternoon, because oh was he feeling downright horrible.

He was back at your shared apartment in no time, pushing the door open and setting his shoes in the nook positioned in the entryway.

(He had a bad habit of trucking on the hardwood floors without removing his shoes, and considering he was already on your shit-list, he made sure to do it now.)

“Honey?” he calls out to you, making his way towards your closed bedroom door. “Sweetheart, I’m home.”

Zayne’s eyebrows raise as he glances around, finding that your apartment looks rather empty and desolate. “I’d like to apologize. I know I haven’t been present for you lately and—”

And then, he hears something. Something that makes him stop in his tracks. His eyebrow quirks up with intrigue as he presses his ear to the door, listening in.

He’d know those beautiful sounds anywhere, even if it’d been awhile since he had lured them out of you himself. Your moans were muffled by the door, but they were enough to make his cock stiffen up beneath the fabric of his black slacks.

“God… please,” you muttered, clearly out of breath and in frustration. “Damn it!”

Behind the door, you were resting on his side of the bed, hoping that his scent would be enough to make you finish. Your fingers toyed with your clit as you desperately tried to get yourself off, but nothing seemed to be working.

Zayne was practiced in a way that only he could be. He knew female anatomy better than you did, but more importantly, he took pride in learning yours. He knew what you liked and what you didn’t, what made you crumble and cry out.

And now that you’ve gone without him for so long, you’re finding yourself more pent up than ever. A huff of frustration leaves your lips as you try again, again, and again—only to be edged with your release without reaping the benefits of it.

He exhales, twisting the doorknob as he cracks the door open. To no surprise, there you were, sitting on his side of the bed with your hand slipped beneath the fabric of your panties.

You hardly looked horrified at the sight of him, more so desperate if anything. He pulls his tie loose as he takes a few steps towards the bed, his knees finding the plush comforter as he sinks onto his stomach.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmurs, almost sounding sympathetic. He runs his hands over your thighs as he hikes them over his shoulders. “Let me see.”

You roll your eyes. “Who’s to say that you deserve to?”

Zayne gives you a look that you know all too well, one that silently reads ‘girl, are you serious?’ And no, you aren’t serious by any means, so you nod your head to give him your permission.

He pulls the damp fabric of your panties to the side, his gaze slimming as he sets eyes on your cunt for the first time in what feels like forever. (It’s only been two weeks at most, but you’re both awfully dramatic.)

“I’m sorry,” he speaks into your heat, almost as if he were apologizing to both you and your pussy. He raises his eyes to yours as he flattens his soft tongue to swipe along your wet folds. He moans at the mere taste of you, his grip on your thighs tightening as he pulls you even closer to him. “I had no idea. Truly, baby, I didn’t.”

You whine at the sensation of his gentle voice rumbling against your sensitive skin, your hand delving into his hair. “No idea about—hah—what?”

Zayne takes a moment to reply. His mouth is certainly distracted with the way it’s buried into your soaking cunt while his tongue laps at your inner lips, his nose brushing against your clit with each movement he makes.

“I hadn’t realized I was neglecting your needs,” he clarifies, cracking his eyes open just enough to look at you with hollowed cheeks as he sucks onto your sensitive bundle of nerves.

He releases it with a ‘pop’, his tongue quickly replacing his lips as he curls it in up and down motions that stimulate you in ways you can’t even comprehend. “My girl is too sweet to be treated like that,” he whispers, thumbing at your folds to give himself better access.

One of his hands continues to rub your thighs for some sort of comfort for his behavior, and soon, the other reaches up to take your hand in his own. You squeeze onto it immediately, finding the gesture to be much appreciated.

“So, you… mmh— you remember I exist after all?” Your words are meant as a joke, but he doesn’t seem to consider them as such with the way he presses a kiss to your clit before pulling away.

“Honey, I’m being serious,” he murmurs, resting his cheek on your thigh. “I’d never want to make it seem like I don’t consider you and your feelings.”

He gives your hand a squeeze before he smiles, adding an earnest, “and truth be told, I’m rather surprised that I’ve gone so long without tasting this pretty pussy of yours,” before he delves right back into eating you out like a man starved.

Zayne hasn’t noticed it until now, but he truly was starving, and not for the lunch that he left on his desk back at Akso Hospital. He wasn’t much for alcohol, but getting drunk on your pussy was one of his favorite pastimes, and he’ll never go this long without doing it again.

He was a man of science, and even then, he would never be able to explain the chemical imbalance that tasting you set off in his brain. Sure, medically speaking, the preoptic area of the brain is what triggers an erection, but what you did to him was far beyond that.

It was safe to say that Zayne was almost as in love with your pussy as he was with you, and judging by the way he’s making out with it right now, you have no doubts about that.

Your head tilts back against the headboard as he reintroduces his middle finger to your entrance, feeling the way your walls clench around it.

“Mm, quite sensitive, are we?” he lowly asks, licking a few swipes at your clit before adding, “Is it because you’ve been using your own hand for quite some time now?”

It’s almost pathetic how quickly you nod, your fingers grasping onto his dark locks as he presses an open-mouthed kiss onto your folds. “It’s the only choice I had,” you whine.

(He makes a mental note to give you his credit card so that you can purchase anything and everything you’ll need in order to satisfy yourself whenever he isn’t around. The fact that he hasn’t thought of that sooner is a problem in and of itself.)

He nods in return, though the movement only invites him to make hard licks at your pussy, collecting your slick on his tongue. His cock is rock hard, but he’ll get his turn soon enough.

Even if his turn never came, he’d be more than happy with this alone—that much was incredibly evident.

“I know it, my love,” he whispers, pressing a kiss on your sensitive clit as he slides another finger into your hole. “Is this alright?”

Your thighs tense up at the sensation, but you nod, tilting your head down to look at him. With your permission, he continues, his tongue swiping at you while his fingers fuck you into oblivion.

When you tilt your head back, he squeezes your thigh. “Eyes down here, I need you to watch closely.”

A sharp whine escaped you as his mouth somehow latched onto your pussy in the time it took you to look at him. He pulls off of you to speak, his lips coated with your arousal. “There will be times like this in which I won’t be able to give you what you need, and as much as it kills me, your pleasure can’t be limited to the times I can have you like this.”

You tilt your head. “What… what do you mean?”

Zayne nods his head, urging you to tune in. He curls fingers inside of you, hitting your g-spot with each push. “Hm. I suppose I can teach you how to touch yourself a bit more effectively. Would you like that?”

Your hand goes flying to his shoulder as you nod, your teeth pressing down onto your bottom lip. “Hah… mhm.”

He nods, grasping onto your hand. He presses a few kisses on your knuckles as he guides it to your clit, helping you swirl the pads of your fingers around it in smooth, moan-earning circles. “Very good. You look happier with me already.”

“You’re still a jerk,” you huff.

“I’m sure I have been behaving like one, yes,” he murmurs with a laugh. “Don’t let me off the hook too easily, either. I need to get a few orgasms out of you before you should consider that.”

That sounds perfectly fine to you, so all you do is moan in reply, which makes him smile. He likes to please his woman, and knowing that he hasn’t done a good job of that makes him even more determined to make up for it.

“It’s okay to use two hands, sweet girl,” he continues teaching, tilting his head towards his own hand that was still thrusting two fingers inside of you. “While it may be mine right now, yours will work just the same.”

Something switches inside of you the moment he begins to help you masturbate, his own fingers fucking inside of you while yours stimulate another part of your puffy cunt. You always had a thing for acts of service, but when it came from your boyfriend, you were practically putty in his hands.

“That’s right,” he purrs, a smile tugging on his lips. “Such a pretty girl. Perhaps you just needed to be reminded of how to treat yourself.”

His hazel eyes are still on your face, watching as you pinch in absolute ecstasy, your thighs shaking on his shoulders. “I see that I’ve underestimated you,” he teases, dipping his head to lick at your folds, his tongue brushing against your fingers as he continues to guide the movements of your hand. “It seems like you’re doing just fine for yourself after all.”

You huff, shaking your head. “No, no… it’s all you.”

Zayne chuckles at that, sucking your fingers that were circling your clit into his mouth before he places them back on your sensitive pearl, giving you a bit more lubricant. “There’s no need to be so hard on yourself, I’m merely helping you. We’re practicing together, sweetheart,”

You almost roll your eyes at that, because the last thing Zayne needed was practice on how to please you. He may have been a bit distracted, but that could never take away from how perfect of a lover he was.

And… it was difficult not to be hard on yourself when he’s practically taken away your ability to orgasm on your own. With the way he’s making you feel right now, his absence was almost worth it.

Your eyes haze over as you look down at him, a soft moan leaving your lips. “Mmh, ‘m gonna cum,” you choke out.

To that, he nods in understanding. He thumbs apart your folds, leaving you to play with yourself as you please while he dips his head in to lick at your cunt in any way he can, feeling the way you clench around his fingers. “That’s right. Look at you, honey, such a quick learner.”

Zayne grasps onto your thigh with his free hand, pressing a few wet kisses along your inner skin as you come down from your high. Your hand still has a death grip on his hair, but he doesn’t mind it. He knows that he deserves to lose a few strands of hair after how he has left you alone.

You pant, your chest heaving as your body reels from your orgasm. While your vision is blurry, you can still make out the picture of your boyfriend sucking his fingers into his mouth, cleaning them free of your release.

“Mm, you know, the release from an orgasm does much to calm people,” he murmurs, giving your mound a chaste kiss before he rises up to give you one on your forehead. “Do you feel any better, my dear?”

You do feel better, but a part of you, one that you can’t quite shove away, is still yearning for more. Despite that, you nod, brushing your hand along his cheek as he dips his head to give you a kiss.

Sugary and sweet are two words you’d used to describe kissing Zayne, because those were adjectives you’d also use to detail how he always behaves when around you.

He pulls away from the kiss, propping himself up on his elbow above you while he uses his other hand to brush away your hair. “I really am sorry,” he whispers, his voice soft and full of a raw honesty that makes your heart squeeze.

You shake your head with a smile. “I know you didn’t mean to,” you reply. “It’s just… you made me feel like you didn’t need me, like what I felt was one sided.”

Zayne’s expression seems to soften as he shakes his head. “Of course I need you, I always need you. Your needs are never one-sided, especially not needs of this nature.”

He brushes his hand over your cheek. “And I was serious about my endeavors of making it up to you, sweetness. C’mere.”

Before you know it, you’re plucked from your position on the bed and carried to the corner of the bedroom. Zayne takes a seat in the rocking chair positioned there, spinning it around until it faces the body length mirror just in front of the two of you.

He then undresses you entirely, kissing along your thighs, your hips, the curves of your back, on the cheek of your ass—everywhere and anywhere he could. Sure enough, you hear the rattling of his metal belt buckle behind you, and when you glance over your shoulder, his cock is pulled out from the confines of his boxers.

His slacks are still bunched up around his thighs, as are his boxers, but he pays no mind to it. He raises two fingers as he beckons you to sit in his lap, and you do.

Zayne rests one hand on your hip while the other grasps onto his shaft, pumping it in his first a few times before he smears the head of his cock along your folds, gathering your slick. “The ‘teaching’ is over, but now, I simply want to show you just how much I need you.”

His words stir something within you, and when he leans up to press a kiss on your shoulder, you already feel like your lover is here to live up to his word. “Is that alright?” he asks against your skin, prodding your entrance with his tip.

When you nod, you’re already sinking down, taking him inch by inch until you’re cockwarming his thick length. He smiles at you in the reflection of the mirror, his eyes drifting over your body that he will never forget to worship again.

“So beautiful,” he coos, his hands mapping out the curves of your waist, your hips, your thighs. “Absolutely gorgeous.”

Your cheeks flush at his words. “Thanks.”

Zayne shakes his head. “There’s no need to thank me for speaking the truth,” he whispers. “That’d be like thanking Einstein for developing the theories of special and general relativity—it’s practically a given.”

You aren’t sure where the correlation is, but when one of his hands slips in between your thighs while the other grasps onto one of your breasts, you don’t care about fighting it out.

“Point is, I mean it. Every word,” he adds.

You feel like a goddess being worshiped as his mouth finds your shoulder, the smacking of his lips omitting into the otherwise quiet room as he places open-mouthed kisses on your skin. His middle and ring finger work to toy with your clit, his other hand squeezing onto your breast.

And then… he begins to rock.

You gasp at the feeling of his cock just barely moving inside of you, your body entirely engulfed in the sensations that he is so eagerly providing you.

“You feel—hah—so, so good,” he whispers against your skin, his lips climbing the curve of your shoulder. His fingers circle your clit at an agonizingly slow pace, and when you place your hand on his to guide his movements, he smiles at you in the reflection. “There’s my girl. Such a quick learner, just like I said.”

You lazily return his smile, your head resting back on his shoulder. He removes his hand from your breast to pluck his glasses from his face, placing them on yours instead.

“My baby is such a smart girl,” he purrs, his lips finding your neck as he admires you. Flushed skin, hair messed up, his glasses resting on your nose. He could come inside you at the sight, but he wants to prolong this. He doesn’t ever want to leave this moment with you. “And so beautiful too. Absolutely ravishing.”

You chuckle at that, though your laughter was interrupted by a soft moan as his fingers pick up the pace as they circle your puffy clit. “You’re… hah—handsome,” you manage to return.

Zayne chuckles at your words, nodding his head as a silent thank you. He presses another kiss on your shoulder, though he quickly leaves another one once you begin to rock your hips. He sits back, catching a glimpse of how you look when you bounce on his cock.

He grins, his hand finding the swell of your ass as he gives both cheeks a nice squeeze. “We can move back to our bed if you’d prefer, sweetheart. I don’t want you to have to put in any more effort into your pleasure tonight.”

You shake your head, glancing over your shoulder to look at him. “I wanna see you,” you breathe.

“Honey, there are positions—”

He’s interrupted by your hand reaching back to hold his jaw, pulling him up so that he too could see the reflection of you both in the mirror.

And oh, was it a sight.

“I wanna see you,” you repeat.

Zayne is in no position to deny you, so with a nod of approval, his hands find your hips. “At the very least, let me help you.”

The sound of slapping skin and your breathy moans fill the room, his large hands keeping their iron grip on your hip bones while your hands rest on top of his. He peers out from behind you, watching as your tits bounce just as you do, your hair flying messily.

“Pretty baby,” he pants, more to himself in reaction to the mere sight of you. “Such a lucky man you’ve made me, fuck… take it, baby, yeah. I love you so much, so much…” he babbles, not quite sure what he’s saying, just that he’s speaking whatever graces his mind.

“Oh, I… I love you too, Zayne,” you gasp.

You whine, grinding your hips in fluid motions as you feel your second orgasm quickly approaching. You were sensitive to begin with, and the feeling of his cock stretching you out was more than enough to bring you here.

“Shit,” he rasps, his head falling back onto the rocking chair as his eyes screw shut. “You take me so well, you fit me so perfectly, baby… I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna… oh, shit.”

You weren’t far behind him, and as your movements grow lazier, you opt to sit on his cock entirely as the both of you find your orgasms only second apart.

Ropes of white paint your insides, your cum coating the base of his cock as the two of you become one in a way that you’ve missed so dearly.

Only bliss envelopes the two of you as you slump back onto his chest, his arm wrapping around your waist to hold you close to him. The two of you sit just like that for a moment as you find your breaths that have run off, relishing in the feeling of your combined warmth.

Zayne reaches up to carefully grasp your jaw, turning your head back just enough so that he could kiss you. Your breaths mingle to add to the scent of your love that looms in the air, his other hand running soothing strides along your hip.

“I don’t deserve you,” he breathlessly says with a lovesick grin. “Quite frankly, I don’t. You’re wonderful to me.”

You shake your head, leaning down to kiss him again before he slowly helps you up onto your trembling legs. “Oh, stop that. Just because you’ve been a little caught up with work doesn’t mean that you’re suddenly a bad partner.”

Zayne sweeps you into his arms, carrying you bridal style towards the bathroom. “See? You’re simply too good to me. Such a lovely personality, the most contagious laugh I’ve ever heard, the cutest snores when you sleep, the sweetest pussy in existence… my dream girl in all capacities.”

You smile as he sets you down, pressing a kiss onto your forehead as he crosses the room to draw you a shower to your liking. Warm—not cold, but not hot enough to the point that your skin tingles. He’s had plenty of practice in this area, and he’s gotten it down to a science by now.

“I do not snore,” you murmur, shaking your head.

As he peels off his clothes, discarding them without care on the bathroom tile. He extends his hand to you to invite you inside the shower behind him. “Mhm, sure you don’t.”

You scoff, tipping the toilet seat shut. “You can tease me for my snoring once you, my 27-year-old man, master the art of putting the damn seat down.”

“…Oops.”

note. my dr. zayne would never forget to please his woman! but i really liked the concept sooooo :3 it was rly difficult for me to write him lol the dialogue might suuuuuckkkk but i hope i did him justice < 3 thank you for reading, interact if you enjoyed !!!

i ALSO kinda wanna do a similar version of this with sylus except… not nearly as gentle ig?? would you be interested??? do let me know.

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#zayne love and deepspace #lads zayne #doctor zayne #lnds zayne #l&ds zayne #zayne x reader #dr zayne #zayne x you #zayne smut #love and deepspace

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incognit0slut · 1 year ago

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BATTLE SCARS

Part 2 of kinktober | main masterlist

What started out as innocently counting body scars with your coworker, who you were stuck in the same bed with, ended far from being innocent.

sub!spencer x fem!reader; Face sitting, male and female oral, body worship, cockwarming

words: 6,300 (I couldn’t help it the buildup was fun to write)

a/n: I hope this shows up on your page because apparently this app hates me

"THERE’S ONLY ONE ROOM LEFT."

Of course, there is, you thought, eyes glancing over to your partner of the day. Spencer was the one you were partnered with when Hotch had sent you to check on the victim's childhood home. He's good at deducing clues, was what your unit chief had said, and although those words were well-intentioned, you couldn't help but feel slightly dejected.

One month of working in the BAU meant that everyone would scrutinize you, even when you knew you were more than capable of doing the job. It wasn't like you were randomly picked for this position. You went through the same process as everyone else did. You were as smart as everyone was but it seemed that your boss still thought you needed a babysitter to do this simple task.

One month of working as the latest addition to the team also meant you didn't know your colleagues that well, which was why you wondered what was going through Spencer's mind in this current predicament. What did he think of the sudden thunderstorm hitting this remote town just as you were about to leave? What did he feel about having to seek shelter because driving in this terrible condition wasn't a choice anymore?

And what ran through his mind when the guy behind the counter, who looked like he didn't even want to be here in the first place, said there was only one room left?

"Are you sure?" Your coworker pressed on, eyes darting across the computer screen sitting on the desk. "Did you check every room? All of them?"

The man in front of him quirked an eyebrow. "Are you saying I'm not doing my job right?"

"No, he's not," you cut in. You glanced at Spencer, noticing he was constantly fidgeting on his feet. You might not know him well enough, but you were a profiler, and with the way he kept shifting his weight from one leg to another, you could tell he was uncomfortable with the situation. You wondered what had him so worked up like this. Was it the idea of having to spend the night with a woman?

Well, he did seem like the type of guy who didn't have his fair share of nights with the opposite sex, but then again, you weren't going to start guessing his personal life. Although you did once see him act all bashful in front of a witness who, you had to admit, was the epitome of sweet and innocent. Her traits were probably on the top list of his preferred type, exactly the opposite of yours.

Huh.

So was it just the idea of spending the night with you that ticked him off?

"It's fine," you said, looking back at—you narrowed your eyes at the name tag clipped on his shirt—Kevin. His name was Kevin. "We'll take it."

Spencer's eyes fell on you. "But—"

"But it's pouring outside and neither of us should be driving in this horrible weather," you added. "End of discussion."

He looked like he was about to retort a reply when a sudden string of light cackled through the night sky, followed by another heavy downpour. He winced as his shoulders slumped, another posture of discomfort but one with a hint of defeat. You saw him reluctantly nod from the corner of your eyes.

"Alright," he finally said. "We'll take it."

Kevin slid a key across the wooden desk. "Room 306."

You thanked him and grabbed onto the key before turning on your heels. The walk to the room was extremely quiet except for the constant sound of the rain pouring outside. Spencer shuffled his feet beside you, and even though you wanted to fill in the silence, the thought of him not wanting to room with you annoyed you more than you wanted to admit.

Were you really that bad? Was the idea of sharing a room with you repulsive for him to act this way?

When you finally reached your shared room, an immediate sense of awkwardness washed over you like an unexpected wave. The room, though not large, was well-furnished and neat. But what caught your attention was the sight that greeted you in the dimly lit space. In the center of the room was a bed—not large enough to be luxurious, yet not small enough to be cozy.

Your eyes met briefly with his and a moment of unease passed between you two. Finally, he broke the silence with a hesitant voice. "I can sleep in the car."

You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his suggestion. "It's pouring outside."

"Right." He sighed, realizing the impracticality of his proposal. "Well, then I'll, uh, sleep on the floor."

"Reid." Your narrowed eyes fixed on him, your patience wearing thin. "The bed is big enough for the both of us. I don't mind sharing."

He paused, clearly taken aback by your straightforward response. "A-Are you sure?"

"I wouldn't have suggested it if I wasn't," you replied, showing your back to him. "I'm going to use the bathroom first."

"U-uh, yes. Sure. Of course," he stammered, his voice trailing off as he watched you leave the room.

You retreated to the bathroom, closing the door behind you with a soft click. As you washed your hands and splashed some cool water on your face, you couldn't help but wonder what had led to his initial hesitance. The storm outside was fierce, and the idea of venturing into it to sleep in the car or on the floor seemed impractical, to say the least. You knew that sharing the bed was the most sensible option, but there was an unspoken tension in the room, and you couldn't quite put your finger on why he had been so reluctant.

Turning off the tap, you took a deep breath. Whatever. He could act all uncomfortable as much as he wanted and you could pretend he wasn't even there. So you decided to shed your jeans, leaving yourself in the oversized button-up shirt that served as your makeshift nightwear.

The shirt fell gracefully to the middle of your thighs, offering a sense of ease you couldn't find in your uncomfortable jeans. With them neatly folded and placed on the bathroom counter, you looked back into the mirror one last time, straightening your wrinkled shirt, and ran a hand through your hair before stepping back into the room.

You found him seated on the edge of the bed, his posture awkward and uncertain. You watched as he shifted uncomfortably, his gaze darting toward the single window in the shared space, his eyes narrowing each time a particularly strong gust of wind rattled the pane.

You decided to break the silence. "You know, it's just a little rain. We'll be out of here as soon as the weather clears up tomorrow."

His gaze finally met yours, and you saw a mixture of frustration and something else, something deeper, in his eyes. "It's not about the rain," he replied, his voice laced with a hint of exasperation.

So it really was about you.

His gaze then traveled over your exposed skin, and you could see his eyes growing wide, clearly taken aback by your choice of attire. "W- What are you wearing?"

Unable to suppress a chuckle at his sudden shift in demeanor, you decided to play along. "Do you mean what I'm not wearing?"

He blinked, his response caught in his throat, leaving him momentarily speechless. His gaping mouth and wide-eyed expression only fueled your amusement. You shrugged in response, trying to play off his intense gaze, but you felt his eyes linger on your thigh, fixated on the long scar mapping along your skin.

"Reid," you called out, and he looked up at you, his expression wry as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn't have been.

"Y-yes?" he stammered, clearly flustered by being caught in the act.

You pointed toward the bathroom. "You can use it now," you suggested.

His face lit up with realization. "Oh! Right," he exclaimed, his flustered state evident as he stumbled on his way to the bathroom.

The awkwardness seemed to follow him as he disappeared into the other room. After turning off the main lights, you left only the soft glow of the bed lamp, which cast a warm ambiance in the room. The covers provided a sense of security and comfort as you finally settled beneath them.

A few minutes later, he emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a white shirt he seemed to wear under his button-down shirt. However, unlike you, he still had his pants on, although he did discard his belt.

Seeing him in this stripped-down, casual state was a bizarre sight. You had grown accustomed to his poised and professional demeanor, and the sight of him dressed in ordinary clothes seemed oddly intimate as if you were witnessing a side of him that few others had seen. It was as if you were seeing him naked even when he was still covered in most of his clothes.

He then settled onto the bed with a noticeable awkwardness, causing the mattress to sink down slightly under his weight. He lay far away from you, in a stiff and distant manner, clearly still grappling with the awkwardness of the situation.

"Reid, relax, I'm not going to bite you," you said reassuringly, trying to dispel some of the tension in the room. A small, playful smile danced on your lips. "Unless that's what you want me to do," you added, your voice taking on a teasing note.

A brief moment of silence followed, and it almost seemed as if he was contemplating your playful offer. You felt the tension shift into something else, but before it could further linger, you decided to break the silence with a forced laugh, shaking off the tension. You then rolled over to your side, closing your eyes shut, ignoring the sound of heavy rain hitting the window and the bolt of lightning occasionally flashing through the sky. You just wanted to rest. You just wanted peace. You wanted to sleep.

But sleep didn't want you.

About ten minutes later, you groaned softly and rolled over onto your back. "Reid," you said, breaking the silence.

He hummed in response.

"I can't sleep," you confessed, your voice carrying a hint of restlessness. Turning to face him, you propped yourself up on your elbow. "Tell me something about yourself," you suddenly requested, your curiosity cutting through the awkwardness.

He hesitated for a moment as if considering whether he should respond to you or not, but then he eventually asked, "Anything?"

"Anything."

"Well, I—uh," he cut off, and with a faint hint of modesty, he began again. "I'm extremely smart."

From all the information he could share, he decided to share that. But it was still something, at least you could get your coworker to talk instead of fidgeting in discomfort. "Yeah? How smart?"

"Well, I have an IQ of 187 and three PhDs."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. "That's impressive," you responded, but then you let out a scoff. "And extremely conceited. Someone asks you to share a fact about yourself and you decide to brag about your brain."

Your remark earned you a small, amused smile from him. "You told me to share anything."

With a mischievous glint in your eye, you leaned in a little closer. "Alright, your turn."

He gulped at your sudden movement but kept his attention on your eyes. "My turn for what?"

You laid on your back again. "Ask me something," you suggested.

There was a moment of hesitation as if he had been contemplating whether to ask the question and then his voice filled the air. "What happened to you?"

"What do you mean?" You asked, your brows furrowed slightly.

"Y-Your scar."

You couldn't resist a teasing tone as you turned your head toward him. "Spencer Reid," you taunted, a playful glint in your eye. "Were you checking me out?"

His response was quick and slightly flustered. "What? No!" He cleared his throat awkwardly. "It was a mere observation," he clarified, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush.

Your laughter filled the room, a light, and genuine sound that seemed to dissolve some of the remaining tension in the air. "Alright, alright," you conceded, still amused by the exchange. "Observation duly noted."

Without warning, you kicked off the covers, a spontaneous decision driven by a mix of curiosity and the playful atmosphere that had developed between you. Your actions were unanticipated, even to yourself, but perhaps it was his flustered self that had spurred you on.

As the covers fell to the side, you extended your leg, showing him the white scar dancing along the inner part of your thigh. His eyes widened in surprise, his gaze drawn to your exposed skin. For a moment, there was silence, as if the room held its breath, and then he met your eyes.

"Fell off a cliff from a hiking trip," you explained, your voice softening with the memory. "I was exploring a trail and had a bit of a mishap. It left me with this scar as a souvenir."

His eyes flickered over the scar. "Did it hurt?"

You shrugged. "It did, but I guess I got through it."

Then, to his surprise, you began to unbutton your shirt. His eyes widened in disbelief at your actions. "W-what are you doing?"

You merely grinned in response, your confidence unwavering. You pushed the material of your shirt off your shoulder, revealing another scar, smaller and darker than the one on your thigh. "This is the most painful one," you explained. "A bullet from a handgun."

He examined the scar intently. "What happened?"

"A chase with a suspect a few years ago," you recounted, recalling your life before you joined the BAU. "We cornered the suspect in an abandoned warehouse, it was a tense standoff. He was armed, and in the chaos of the moment, a shot was fired." You gave him a smile. "I was the unlucky one in the way."

Your eyes locked with one another in a moment of shared understanding, and then you asked, "What about you? Any battle scars?"

He paused for a moment, considering your question. He seemed hesitant at first as if debating whether to share, but then he slowly lifted his shirt, revealing a scar on his lower abdomen. "Flying bullet."

He turned slightly, revealing a slight scar on his lower back, the result of a sharp weapon grazing his skin. It was a subtle yet significant mark. "An Unsub armed with a knife." He then laid back on his back again and tapped his right leg. "There's another scar from a bullet on my knee."

You couldn't help but tease him lightly, your tone playful. "Well, aren't you a magnet for disaster?"

His expression softened at your teasing. You stared at each other silently, taking in each other's presence in the close proximity the bed offered. You weren't sure how, or when for the matter, but it seemed the distance you both created grew shorter in the span of time you were talking.

Your gaze drifted over his features, from his brown orbs to his pointed nose, then along his high cheekbones before settling on the small scar underneath his jawline. It was a subtle mark, but it caught your attention, and you couldn't resist reaching out to gently touch it.

"What about this?" you inquired, your finger tracing the scar. "How did you get it?"

His breath seemed to catch at your sudden touch, and he stammered slightly in response, "I-I cut myself with a razor this morning."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his explanation, and your finger continued to graze his skin, skimming along the faded scar in a circular motion. "And how bad did it hurt?" you asked.

"Not so much," he whispered, his breathing starting to become uneven and it was at that moment you realized how compromising of a position you were in. He was on his back, and somehow you managed to press yourself onto him with a leg resting on his, your hips flushed against his side.

Maybe the rain, the rhythmic pattern of the raindrops beating in synchronized with your heart pushed your actions. Or perhaps it was being in the same bed. Whatever it was, the undeniable proximity between you created a charged atmosphere in the room. Every breath felt heavy, and the air seemed to thicken with unspoken tension, drawing you even closer.

You wanted to kiss him. How could you not when he was looking at you with those eyes? It was hard to ignore this sudden pull of attraction, but Spencer seemed like the type of guy who rarely made the first move. Maybe you needed to initiate it first.

"You know..." you began, your eyes trailing across his tiny scar. "I was thinking of kissing it better?" Your words hung in the air, and you felt him stiffen beside you. "If it was painful, that is."

A charged silence enveloped the room after your suggestive offer. Your heart raced, taking a leap at the first step in crossing the line. He could either play along or push you away, it was a risk you were willing to take, and you prayed he was into it just as you were.

"A- Actually," he stuttered. "I think I'm starting to feel the pain now."

You bit your bottom lip to stop yourself from smiling. "Oh, you poor thing." And before he could respond, you bent over and pressed your soft lips against his scar. You felt him momentarily freeze. "Better?"

You thought he was about to back away when he didn't answer, but then his words had you grinning from ear to ear.

"...I'm not sure," he replied, his voice cutting through the silence. "I think it still hurts?"

Your smile grazed his scar again, softly, barely even touching it, before you trailed down his jawline, stopping on the crook of his neck.

"I.." He breathed out, his voice sounding strangled as you felt his grip on your hip. "I-I don't think that's where the scar is."

"I know." You opened your mouth, your tongue slightly tasting his skin. "I'm making a scar of my own."

Your parted lips were hot against his skin, his eyes fluttering close as you softly sucked on the spot below his ear. You always loved receiving neck kisses, but giving them? There was a certain sense of power to be able to make someone shiver under you, and it was what he was doing right now, breath hitching every time you sucked on a different spot.

You cupped his face as you continued to trail your lips along his neck, pressing your body closer to his. You moved your hand lower, fingers grazing his jawline before it rested around his throat, and as you put slight pressure on your hold, you heard him inhale sharply. You paused, not sure you were hearing right, but then you tightened your grip around his neck and a soft, strangled moan escaped his lips.

You smiled.

Spencer Reid, you naughty, kinky boy.

"We can stop if you want," you murmured against his skin because truthfully, you knew you couldn't restrain yourself after this.

"N- no," he sighed. "Don't stop."

It was enough for you to throw your leg over him. You lifted yourself up and straddled his lower half, stifling a moan as you felt the hard pressure between your thighs, and pressed your lips against his. You couldn't stop yourself from kissing him with so much fervor. Your lips collided with his as you pushed your tongue inside his opened mouth—tasting him, exploring him, devouring him. Who would've thought you would enjoy kissing your coworker this much?

You pulled away and studied him. Spencer was a blessing to witness. His eyes were heavy and hooded, his hair was disheveled with some strands stuck to his forehead and his lips were swollen and parted as he breathed slowly through them. His pale complexion bore the marks of a flush and you couldn't stop yourself from pushing away a strand of hair from his face.

"You're so pretty." Those words came out of your mouth without much thought in which you received a breathless sigh in return.

"You're.... you're more pretty."

You giggled and ran your fingers through his hair. "You understand I'm not going to stop now, right?" He faintly nodded. "And do you know what that means?"

He shook his head.

"It means I'm going to fuck you," you taunted, a wicked smile curling on your lips. "I'm going to fuck you so hard you won't be able to use that smart brain of yours.”

The whine flying out of his mouth was enough for you to lean in closer, your lips extremely close to his but not quite touching. "Can I be rough?" His strangled whimper had you wrapping your hand around his throat again. "Use your words, baby."

"Y-yes," he breathed out. "Please."

"Good."

You pulled your hand back and brought it down sharply on his cheek. The sound startled you because it sounded harder than it felt, ringing out loud with only the faintest sting on your palm.

Spencer looked genuinely surprised. His head turned with the impact of the slap, jaw falling open. He blinked himself back into focus and you were about to ask if you were being too much, but then he looked at you in a way he had never looked at you before. The dazed and desperation of his gaze moved right through you, flushing you with heat.

"Such a pretty boy for me," you said, gently rubbing his cheek. You watched him, a curious smile playing at the corners of your lips. In that moment, you felt a peculiar sense of power and intimacy that was unlike any other you had experienced. It was an odd but exhilarating sensation, feeling an almost illicit delight in the power you held over him.

You then slowly straightened yourself. Taking your time, you began to unbutton your shirt as his gaze burned into you. You popped each button open until it left the sight of your black, laced bra on display for his eyes to devour. Your bra showed a hint of skin over the top, bouncing a little as you pulled yourself out of your shirt.

You reached behind your back to unhook your bra before slipping it from your shoulders, allowing your breasts to bounce free. Spencer couldn't help but swipe his tongue across his lips at the sight. Your breasts were on display with hardened, aching nipples to taunt him. You brought them in your palms, playing and squeezing your flesh for a moment just to tease him.

"Do you want to taste me?"

He let out a desperate sigh. "Please."

You placed the palm of your hands on his chest before leaning in, dropping your breasts right in front of his face. It didn't take him long to know what you wanted, and he quickly wrapped your right nipple in his mouth, his tongue hot against your skin.

"Fuck, Spencer," you moaned. You shivered upon the contact. His mouth sucking on your nipple was making your head delirious. Warmth spiraled from your core to the rest of your body as he tasted you, and when you thought you couldn't feel more aroused than you already were, he let go of your swollen nipple just to give his attention to the other one, sucking even harder.

You couldn't handle it anymore. A moment later your fingers ran down his chest, brushing over his stomach to feel him tense beneath your touch until the second you grip the hem of his pants. "Take these off for me."

You had never seen someone move so fast before. The moment you climbed off the bed, he started peeling his clothes from his body piece by piece. He left no article on before throwing his clothes to the floor, eyes raking your body as you stood before him in nothing but your panties. Those were quick to go, however. You pushed them down your hips and flicked the thin fabric past your feet.

A strained groan filled his chest as he looked at you, marveling at your naked form with wonder. Thoughtlessly he wrapped a hand around the base of his hardened cock and your eyes instantly take in the sight. The way he was biting his bottom lip, fingers around his thick, hard length had your mouth watering, but you stopped yourself from giving in.

"Who said you could touch yourself?"

His body tensed. He quickly placed his hands on the bed as you climbed back on the bed, the mattress sinking in from your weight.

“I like to be warmed up a little first," you told him as you settled on top of him again, but this time, you scooted further, putting your knees on either side of his head. Spencer's eyes went wide as he looked up to see you wet and bare, hovering inches away from his face.

"I'm going to sit on your face, and if you can make me come on your tongue..." You started to lower yourself. "I'll give you your reward."

You felt his breath on your center, and the minute his tongue touched you, you let out a moan. He worked his tongue over your clit, swallowing every drop of arousal dripping down his mouth. You gripped the headboard and rocked yourself back and forth while he continued to lap on your pussy without any care for the mess you made. You were wet and sloppy as his tongue moved in and out of you, up and down your folds while also sucking on your swollen clit.

"Oh my god," you moaned, looking down at where you could see the top of his face, his eyes closed as he groaned on your flesh, wrapping his arm around your thighs while never stopping stroking your wetness with his tongue. He held you tight, keeping you in place, and there was nothing else you could do but buck your hips as you ran your hands through his hair and tugged on the strands, receiving a deep, rough yet excited groan from him.

You exhaled his name, not being able to find the words or the breath in you to speak as you felt the familiar coil in your stomach. He flicked his tongue over your clit a few times before gathering up your juices and circling back to the swollen bud, massaging your flesh with the flat of his tongue. You felt the bliss swelling inside your body. You knew you wouldn't last much longer.

"I'm getting close," you warned him, beginning to grind your pussy against his mouth. He groaned against your flesh, sending vibrations through your body in return, and with a few more laps around your clit, you finally reached your high.

You felt the warmth from between your legs surge through your whole body. Your pussy walls tightened as you kept rocking your hips against him, whimpering, moaning, crying out that you were coming. You shivered and trembled above him, tossing your head back, gripping his hair even tighter, and pressing your thighs together around his head.

It took a moment for you to come down from your orgasm, and as you did, his motions slowed down, licking you gently, his hands soothing down your thighs. You finally lift your hips off his face, hovering above him on shaky thighs.

"You did so well," you cooed. You slowly shifted down his body, and when he thought you were about to straddle him again, you surprised him by moving lower.

“Let me give you your reward." You sighed while wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock in a firm grip. "You deserve it."

He felt so hot in your hand, so thick, so big, and utterly beautiful. You slowly moved your hand along his length, stroking him gently as you watched his lips parting open from the pleasure. You continued to stroke him, motions slow and steady, and he eventually closed his eyes, head falling back against the bed. You swiped your thumb across the tip, his eyes shot open as he looked at you.

"Keep your eyes on me."

He carefully propped himself on his elbows to get a better view just as you gripped him tighter while leaning close. The droplet of wetness on the tip looked too nice to be ignored so you leaned in and licked it up, your eyes meeting his gaze, and his jaw slacked open in pure pleasure. A pause settled in the room before you finally took him fully in your mouth, giving him an exploratory suck.

You kept swallowing him down, your jaw stretching wide as you struggled to get every inch of him inside your mouth, wrapping your hand around what was left. You hollowed your cheeks and greedily inhaled him. His smooth, warm length slid across your tongue and his cock hit the back of your throat.

Without warning his hips jerked up, and you gagged, rearing back off with a cough, eyes watering. "I'm s-sorry," he apologized.

"It's okay, baby, I'm giving you your reward," you whispered before holding his throbbing cock in your grip again. "Hold my hair up for me?"

He did exactly as he was told, gathering your hair in his hands. Your mouth enclosed around him again and you repeated the movement, trailing down his cock with your tongue, hands twisting back and forth, lips sliding back down until you had every inch of him in your mouth.

You glanced up at him, brow-raising mischievously as you moved your head in a rapid motion. He panted out a whine, his chest heaving as he inhaled a lung full of desperately needed air.

"Please..." he whimpered, bucking up ever so slightly. His cheeks burned at the sound of his own desperation. You gazed up at him, entranced by his sweat-slicked, heaving body, so pretty and needy. He blinked down at you, your cheeks flushed and lips stretched wide, an utterly obscene sight as you kept swallowing the entire length of him.

And then you felt him starting to shake, his body trembling while the grip on your hair tightened at every stroke of your tongue. You could tell he was on the brink of exploding, yet you didn't want him to finish inside your mouth, so you pulled away just as quickly as you began.

You could tell he was about to whine a protest, but he immediately stopped himself as you climbed on his lap, gripping his cock in your hand and guiding it towards your aching pussy. But then you stopped, eyes meeting with his, your voice softening. "Should I use a condom?"

"You can..." he mumbled as if it was hard to even articulate any words when his tip was already brushing against your wetness. "You can do whatever you want."

You lingered for a moment, grinding yourself against the tip of him, getting wetter as your arousal dripped out. "I want to feel you."

The whimper he let out was loud, almost pornographic. "I want to feel you too."

Then you began to slide his cock into you, slowly, taking your time to draw the moment out. Your body went tense in an instant, you could hardly handle the way his size was pushing into you.

"Fuck, you're stretching me," you moaned the words, tossing your head back while closing your eyes. The content sigh leaving your lips was loud when his tip finally hit that soft spot. You had never felt this full before and you wanted to soak in the way he was filling you so deep, so you buried your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent as you sit there with his cock stuffed inside of you.

For you, it felt nice, but for him, it was torture. As warm as you were, as tight as you clenched him, he still needed more. With urgency, he reached for your body before his eager hands landed on your hips, a groan of desperation built in his throat as you stayed there, not moving a muscle. "Can... can you move?"

You kissed a spot below his ear. "Why should I?"

"I-I..."

"Use your words, baby. Tell me what you want." Your tone was soft, but you didn't drop the entirety of your dominance. "Do you want me to ride you? Is that it? You want me to fuck you senseless?"

"Yes," he rasped out as if he had been holding his breath. "Please..."

You gripped him by the throat. "Say it."

"Pl-please fuck me," he gasped, gulping for air.

You smiled.

"Good boy," you replied. You began moving against his cock, grinding yourself over his lap, feeling him fill you up and hit deep inside you. It was almost too much but you remained focused. Your palms pressed to his shoulders as you pushed yourself up, moving your hips against his body.

He could feel you squeezing him. Every roll of your hips, every flutter of your walls, and every moan that rumbled from your chest. His huge palms wandered over the small planes of your back, caressing every dip and roll of your body. His eyes glazed over to where you were connected, the sight of your pussy clenching around every inch of him lulled him into a bewitching trance.

Soon you found a somewhat steady rhythm, circling your hips and grinding down on him faster, picking up your pace. You felt your heart drumming against your ribcage and the concoction of arousal running down your thigh and dripping onto his legs.

"God, you're going to make me come so quick," you cried, your hand lowering between your thighs to reach your clit. With two fingers, you began to massage your flesh while bouncing down his cock, riding him, feeling the tip so deep within your walls. You let loose, moaning and whimpering. He couldn't help but groan, feeling your walls tighten around him, feeling your juices drip down his groin.

You felt him thrust upward towards you, following your pace, and a second orgasm started building low in your stomach. You felt it everywhere, from the tips of your fingers to the edge of your toes. It thrummed every nerve, vibrating you to the bone. "Fuck, I'm close."

His breath quickened as he felt your walls clenching him, his eyes brushing every inch of your body. You were such a sight to see. He was entranced by the way you were thrusting yourself on his cock, your breasts bouncing from the movement, your taut nipples begging for attention. He couldn't stop himself when he suddenly pulled you in, momentarily surprising you, and sucked onto your nipple hungrily.

You cried out when you felt his teeth softly tugging your nub. You were supposed to be in control, and you still wanted to keep your dominance, but it was hard to when he suddenly planted his feet on the bed and thrust his hips into you at a mind-numbing speed. Harshly. Roughly. Violently.

"Fucking hell, Spencer," you moaned, holding onto his shoulders. "I-I'm gonna—"

His fingers dug harshly into the tender skin of your sides, his hips were bucking up uncontrollably, desperate to reach the blissful relief. His tone became ragged as he groaned what sounded like your name entwined. He closed his eyes and threw his head back, suddenly overwhelmed by the feeling that began uncoiling in his entire body. You grabbed onto his unruly hair, tugging it back roughly before smearing open-mouthed kisses all over his throat and collarbones, voicing out your whimpers right into his ear.

That was enough for him—he came undone, allowing his muscles to contract one last time as he spilled into you, filling you completely with warmth with one last thrust. You followed him with a scream, wrenched from your throat so roughly it seared its way out of your lungs and into the air. Your movements became sloppy and uneven, clinging onto him as you chased your own high.

The room smelt of sex. It was your first thought when you finally felt your body relaxing, your mind coming back to its senses. Never, not even once in your life, have you ever considered kissing Spencer willingly.

Yes, he was handsome. Yes, he had the most amazing eyes, and yes, his soft demeanor did attract you the first time you met him, but that was it. He was simply your coworker, one you didn't know that well, one who seemed to make a big deal out of spending the night with you... and ironically, one who had you shaking in pleasure.

You weren't sure what would happen next. At first, you thought your presence ticked him off in the wrong way because you were the new, inexperienced member of the team... but now you couldn't help but speculate the way he acted differently towards you had something to do with what just happened.

Maybe he didn't think of you as a mere colleague... maybe he thought of you as someone potentially more? You could be right, or you could be wrong, and there was only one way to find out. You softly let your fingers brush his cheek.

"You need to take me out on a proper date," you suggested through the silence. Then a smile bloomed on your face when you felt him dip his head in your palm.

The nod he gave you couldn't be anymore faster.

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid x reader smut #criminal minds smut

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luveline · 6 months ago

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Hi jadeeeee I have a request for coworker James! Another man whether it’s at work or somewhere else starts hitting on reader and James get jealous and realizes he hates seeing her with other guys

ty for requesting 💌 fem

It’s another sunny day at the office, but today is the day the vending machine men come in and fill them, so it’s not all bad. The doors and windows are wide open, the air is fresh and clean.

“It’s too hot,” Remus complains without any real passion.

“It’s not that bad,” Sirius says, though he raises his hand to begin fanning Remus anyhow. “It feels hotter than it is because of the humidity.”

“I feel amazing,” James says. He gives you a nudge with his shoe, his hair tickling his neck as he leans back in his chair. “It’s not that hot, is it?”

“It’s boiling,” you say.

You were never going to agree with him. It could be sub zero and you’d tell him you were on fire. James rolls his eyes at you and continues a rather lavish existence of sun, breeze, and cold grapes, their crisp insides popping between his teeth.

“Sorry,” you say.

James lifts his head.

“That’s okay,” Jordan says, to James’ immediate affront. There’s no need for the man in charge of maintaining the vending machine to be talking to you in that tone. It’s bordering too sweet.

“I’m always in your way,” you laugh.

“You? In my way? Never.”

You turn to Remus with an obvious expression. Is he flirting with me? it says.

Remus looks at James —what the fuck?— before he gives you a tentative back and forth of his head, weighing it up. He shrugs.

James shakes his head resolutely.

You give them both the silent version of I understand and settle down in your seat again. The vending machine guy (what’s his name again? James can’t remember) pops open the front cover of the machine and takes out the change box. Clearly, he doesn’t categorise you or the boys as a risk of burglary.

“So,” Jordan says, “how was your weekend? Did you do much?”

“In this weather?” you ask with light-humoured sarcasm. “I went on a couple of walks, nothing huge. How about you?”

“Went to a couple of matches.”

“Rugby or football?”

“Rugby, always.”

James feels the pressure of his teeth clenching at the back of his head. “Do you play, mate?” he asks.

Jordan looks at him in surprise. “No, we just watch. It’s an excuse to have a pint before five.”

You break two slices of your clementine away from each other. James doesn’t know why, but your gaze is on him, and that’s where he wants it. “Day drinker?” he asks sympathetically.

“James,” Sirius says, laughing. “Grow up.”

“Sometimes,” Jordan says. He finishes reinstalling the change holder and starts to push snacks and drinks onto the vending machine shelves. “Gotta have a little bit of fun every now and then, right?”

He emphasises to you.

You give a shy smile. “Right.”

Jordan finishes his job and wishes everyone goodbye quickly after that. You chew your clementine, your finger looped under your bracelet, tugging slowly round and around. He fucked that up for you, didn’t he? You couldn’t get very far with him poking holes at poor Jordan, but… you’d been smiling at him nicely. You’re allowed to smile at whoever you want to, of course you are, so why did James act like that?

“Sorry,” he says.

You slide your thumb between slices of clementine. “To me?” you ask from the corner of your mouth. “For what?”

Sirius and Remus laugh at the same time.

James ignores them. “I was mean to him. How are you ever gonna get a date if I bully the vending machine guy?”

“You think I can’t get a date?” you ask.

“No.” He grimaces. “No, just, he’s a dickhead.”

“As opposed to who? You?” you ask.

James is pretty sure his vision goes white. He hates seeing you with other boys, but this isn’t where he wanted the conversation to go. He doesn’t wanna be your boyfriend. He just hates seeing you happy with other people.

Oh, god, he thinks. That’s horrible.

“I think you can do a whole lot better than Jacob the vending machine guy.”

“Jordan,” you correct, laughing. You don’t bring him up on avoiding your real question, perhaps you don’t notice. You just laugh with Remus and pass James a piece of your clementine. “Vending machines are an honest living. Don’t be so classist.”

“You’re classist,” he rebukes weakly. He ignores Sirius’ knowing gaze to offer you his punnet of grapes. “Horrible woman.”

“Get it together, Potter.”

James doesn’t know what to say to you after that, so he says nothing at all. Your clementine is sweet on his tongue.

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fic #james potter fluff #james potter blurb #james potter drabble #james potter imagine #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james potter scenario #james potter oneshot #the marauders #marauders era #marauders

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markrosewater · 2 months ago

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Hi Mark. With a lot of talk recently in the online space about the unreasonable outrage and horrendous death threats towards the Commander Rules Committee and Commander Advisory Group, I want to thank you for being the proverbial "shield" for some of the most heinous and grotesque backlash towards WOTC as the unofficial public representative for MTG. I know it can be absolutely draining for your mental health to receive harassment in this position, so I just want to say I am grateful and empathize that you are in this position. With that being said, as one of the most prominent faces of Magic, is it possible if you could say a word or two about the aforementioned harassment towards the RC and CAG to deter these harassers and possibly share your own experiences regarding unconstructive hate to help the victims of such depravity (if you're comfortable sharing)?

There are advantages and disadvantages of being one of the faces for Magic. When people like something we're doing, even when I had nothing to do with it, I get lots of praise. Most players only know a handful of Wizards employees, so they tend to assume that the people they know are responsible for the things that are happening.

There is, of course, a downside to that. When things happen people dislike, I'm also the light rod for complaint. Whether or not I had anything to do with the issue in question, I get the blame. I am Head Designer. Many times, I did have a hand or a say in what happened. And when I'm responsible, or partly responsible, for something, I try to own up to it.

Players are not a unified front though. When we do thing X, some of you will like it while others will not. I often will get complimented for the same thing I'm being yelled at for.

From time to time, we do something a majority are unhappy with. At times, we do things a majority are *very* unhappy with. That's when things can get a bit ugly. There are a lot of civilities built into daily life. There are just things you don't do or say to another human being. Most of that goes out the window online.

For some reason, the anonymity combined with just how social media has evolved has emboldened people to do and say things they never would in person (and I should also acknowledge society has changed in ways that even what's acceptable in person has changed).

What this means is I get a lot of negativity, some of it very personal. I'm not just talking about people criticizing the in-game choices I've made (or often didn't even make), but comments on me as a person, about who I am and what they think of me. People tell me that want bad things to happen to me. Not just getting fired (although that's a popular one), people vocalize, sometimes quite graphically, about things they want to happen to me.

The first few times this happened, I took it pretty hard. Having lots of people attack you online, saying horrible things about you, is tough. Humans look to other humans for approval. It's just built into our DNA to want others to like us. Having people attack you hurts. You have trouble sleeping, eating, it just weighs on you emotionally.

I was bullied as a kid. This really isn't much different except its much higher in volume and very public.

With time, I learned to adapt to it. It's not that I enjoy people saying nasty things about me. It still sucks, but I've found ways to process it. I came to realize that someone being nasty is more a commentary on them than me. And I adopted a philosophy of looking past the words to the message behind it. Most people complaining didn't like a choice we made about the game. I could focus on the feedback and less on the delivery method. But that took years, and it has a lot to do with who I am as a person. I enjoy the things I get to do with a public profile, so I accept what comes with it.

I've made the conscious choice to build a thick skin and weather social media, so I can continue doing what I love. It saddens me that I have to.

I say all this because I don't know if people really process the harm they're doing when they get negative online, especially towards another person. Most people do not have the years of processing angry messages like I do.

Words have an impact and that doesn't matter whether you're speaking them directly to someone's face or typing them in the privacy of your home.

Bullying is not okay. Cruelty is not okay. Making a conscious choice to belittle another human being, especially because they made a choice you disagree with about a game, is not okay.

When you use ugly words, you are doing harm to another human being (sometimes many human beings). Imagine if someone attacked you like that, or a loved one, or a friend. Don't do something to another human being that would cause pain if it was done to you.

That doesn't mean you can't communicate unhappiness. It doesn't mean you can't vocalize that you disagree with a decision made. I would stress two things. One, make it about the decision and not the person who made the decision. Explain why and how the decision impacts you, not what you think of the person because they made the decision.

Two, watch your language. As I said above, words have power. They can be used to build or to destroy. Is the language you're using designed to hurt? If so, don't use it. Use other language. If you need to take time to calm down, do so.

Community is what we as individuals choose for it to be. One of the things I love about the Magic community is how kind it can be, how accepting it can be, how uplifting it can be. But that's because we each individually choose to do that. The Magic community can get ugly, but only if we allow it to become so.

So please, the next time you're making a message designed to do something destructive rather than constructive, take a moment to reflect. Why are you doing this? What is your goal? Is it your intent to hurt someone? Because that's what negative language does.

I ask the Magic community to be better. I know we have the potential. I've seen it.

Be part of the solution, not the problem.

Thanks.

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lokilaufeysonslove · 7 days ago

Text

𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐌𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐬

𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐌𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐱 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

// Summary // your husband walked away from you and your shared kid, but there’s always someone who will love the both of you more than he did.

// Warnings // divorce, mentions of ex husband, reader being a single mom.

// Author’s Note// I was scrolling on tiktok and I stumbled upon a wholesome imagine scenario, which inspired me to write this. I really like this one, so I hope you like it too! / divider by the amazing @saradika-graphics / gif by @elizabethlailolsenfan

You would never forget that day, the day when your heart shattered into million, no, trillion pieces. Walking in on your husband of five years, who you share a sweetest kid with, fucking another woman is not very pleasant sight to see. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing, you wanted to scream, you wanted to cry, but no sound came out of you. Oh what a horrible day it was.

The next day you filed for divorce. What hurt you even more was that he didn’t even protest, he didn’t even apologize. It was not a mistake, he knew exactly what was he doing. Even though you were hurt, you still didn’t care about yourself, all you were thinking was how would your daughter take it. You didn’t want her to feel abandoned, to feel rejected. Yes, she was only three, but still; she loved her daddy and you didn’t want her to feel this kind of pain at such a young age. Then there was trial to worry about. What if they decided he was going to keep her? It scared the shit out of you, but fortunately, when the day came, they left your daughter under your care. Again, he didn’t even protest. What did that whore do to change him like that? That clearly wasn’t the man you fell in love with all those years ago. He was so happy on the day you agreed on date; on the day you agreed to be his wife; on the day he found out you were pregnant; on the day your sweet Lily was born. So what really happened to him?! You didn’t know, and you didn’t want to know, so you decided to move on.

You needed a change, so you moved into a new apartment, with new environment, new neighbors, new people around. Your daughter often asked for her father, but you somehow managed to explain to her that daddy would never be back, in a way that wouldn’t make her feel bad and cry.

Seeing as most women change their appearance after a tough break up, you did the same. You dyed your hair and cut it short, changed your style and started a job, started doing meditation and whatnot.

A year passed and looking in the mirror, you couldn’t recognize yourself, but in a good way. Instead of being a young, heartbroken girl you were strong, elegant, classy young woman and a great mother to say the least. Of course, seeing that asshole being all lovey-dovey with his new girlfriend, seeing his happy smile on the pictures he would post on the social media hurt like bitch, but you knew how to shrug it off. You wouldn’t want to focus on negative memories from your past, since you changed your life, but you didn’t know how much would your life really change for the best after you’d meet her..

Being a single mom meant raising your daughter all on your own. You were used to all the chaos your lifestyle caused, but sometimes, the weight of it all could become too much. That morning was ‘somtimes’. It was a fizzy morning, grey clouds putting everyone in a grumpy mood. Weather always affected you, and today was no exception.

Being a single mom meant raising your daughter all on your own. You were used to all the chaos your lifestyle caused, but sometimes, the weight of it all could become too much. That morning was definitely ‘sometimes’. It was a fizzy morning, grey clouds putting everyone in a grumpy mood. Weather always affected you, and today was no exception.

When you opened your eyes, the sharp blare of your alarm was already ringing in your ears. Groaning, you reached for your phone on the nightstand to turn it off, but as soon as you saw the time, your heart dropped. 8:30 a.m. Shit. You bolted upright, the haze of sleep instantly replaced by pure panic. You were already late. Throwing off the covers, you hurried through your morning routine, skipping your usual shower and opting instead for a quick splash of cold water on your face to wake yourself up. You brushed your teeth, tied your hair back into a sleek ponytail, and grabbed the first set of clothes that came to mind—a pair of tailored gray dress pants, a white button-up shirt, and the matching gray vest and jacket. You slipped into your black heels, the sound of them clicking against the hardwood floor as you glanced toward Lilly. She was still curled up in bed, her small face peaceful and innocent. You sighed, both relieved and guilty that your panic hadn’t woken her.

“Lilly, sweetheart, time to wake up,” you said softly, sitting beside her and running a hand through her soft curls. She mumbled something incoherent, her tiny body stretching lazily before her eyes fluttered open. “Come on, we’re going to be late for school,” you urged. Lilly yawned and nodded, still groggy, but she trusted you to guide her through the morning chaos. You quickly got her dressed in her favorite pink sweater and leggings, packed her lunch, and as you were about to leave, Lily suddenly remembered she forgot her favorite stuffed animal, Mr. Cuddles. You groaned internally, knowing you were already running late. But seeing the disappointment on Lily's face, you couldn't say no. So, with Mr. Cuddles in hand, you finally left for kindergarten. The whole way there, your mind raced—emails, deadlines, meetings. You felt like you were barely holding it together.

After dropping Lilly off, you rushed toward your office, your heels clicking faster against the pavement. Rounding a corner, you collided with someone hard enough to knock the papers out of their hands. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” you blurted, crouching to help pick up the mess. When you looked up, the words caught in your throat. There she was. Wanda Maximoff. Her striking green eyes and auburn hair made her unforgettable, and that soft, calm smile she gave you? It felt like it could quiet the storm inside your chest. “It’s okay,” she said, her voice even and reassuring, as if she could sense your panic. You apologized again, feeling flustered, and she offered to help you carry your bag to the nearby café you mentioned. That was the start.

A year passed. Slowly, the chaos of your once-turbulent life began to settle, replaced by a steady rhythm that felt almost foreign in its peace. At the heart of it all was Wanda. She had become a constant presence, a calming anchor amidst the whirlwind of parenting and work. It started small—those coffee chats after chance meetings, the easy laughter shared during Lilly’s playdates at the park. But as time passed, those simple moments grew into something much deeper. She wasn’t just a friend; she was someone you could lean on, someone who saw you in a way no one else had. She brought out a version of yourself you hadn’t seen in years: lighter, freer, and undeniably happier.

There was something about Wanda that was unlike anyone else, something that made her irreplaceable. She made you feel safe, like you didn’t have to keep carrying the weight of the world alone. You found yourself looking forward to her texts, her calls, her visits. But soon, the excitement morphed into something more profound. Her sweet smile started to linger in your mind long after she left. Her laughter, that warm, melodic sound, would echo in your ears, making your heart flutter. The smallest things about her—like the way she tucked her hair behind her ear when she was thinking or how her fingers would brush yours as she handed you a cup of coffee—started to consume your thoughts. It was terrifying, and yet, it was thrilling. You hadn’t imagined you could feel this way about anyone again, let alone a woman.

The realization hit you one quiet evening as you sat side by side on the couch, her hand accidentally brushing against yours as you both reached for the same piece of popcorn. That brief touch sent shivers down your spine, and you knew then what you had been denying for months: you were falling for her. Hard. But that love came with its share of doubts and fears. Could this really be happening? What would people say? Would Lilly understand? Would Wanda even feel the same? Those questions haunted you, but every time Wanda smiled at you, every time her hand lingered just a second too long on yours, you knew you couldn’t let fear win.

The night you finally asked her out was both the scariest and most exhilarating moment of your life. Your palms were sweaty as you stood outside her door, rehearsing what you were going to say. When she opened it, wearing her usual mix of confidence and kindness, you almost lost your nerve. But then she tilted her head, giving you that curious little smile that always undid you, and before you could stop yourself, the words spilled out. “Wanda, would you like to go out with me? On… a date?” For a moment, her eyes widened in surprise, and you feared you had ruined everything. But then her lips curled into the softest, sweetest smile, and she whispered, “I thought you’d never ask.”

That was the beginning of something extraordinary. Date after date, you fell deeper and deeper in love with her. She wasn’t just someone you loved; she was someone you admired, someone you respected, someone you trusted with every fragile part of your heart. A year passed in a blur of laughter, stolen kisses, and quiet moments that felt like forever. And then came the night that changed everything…

The stars were out, scattered across the velvet-black sky like tiny diamonds, and the air carried the soft hum of crickets and the occasional rustle of leaves. You and Wanda had decided to take a walk after dinner, a peaceful way to end the day. You were strolling side by side, enjoying the warmth of her presence and the soothing rhythm of her voice as she talked about a book she’d been reading. But as you kept walking, something felt… different. You realized she had fallen behind, and when you turned around to call for her, the sight before you made your breath catch.

There she was, kneeling on the grass, the moonlight casting a soft glow around her like some ethereal being. In her hands was a small velvet box, open to reveal the most beautiful diamond ring you had ever seen. Her eyes met yours, filled with a mixture of love, vulnerability, and quiet determination. “Y/n,” she began, her voice trembling slightly, “from the moment you crashed into me that morning, you turned my life upside down—in the best way possible. Every day with you and Lilly has been a gift, and I can’t imagine my life without the two of you. I love you, Y/n. I love you in ways I never thought I could love anyone. And I want to spend the rest of my life proving that to you. So, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

You gasped, your hands flying to your mouth. Words failed you, your voice caught in your throat, so you nodded instead, frantically, as if afraid she might take it all back. Wanda’s smile lit up her entire face as she stood, sliding the ring onto your trembling finger. Without thinking, you cupped her face with both hands, pulling her into a kiss that was filled with every ounce of love and gratitude you couldn’t put into words. She kissed you back with equal fervor, her arms wrapping tightly around your waist, grounding you in the moment.

As you pulled back, your foreheads touching, you whispered, “Yes, a million times yes.” She laughed, her eyes shining with unshed tears, and you knew in that moment that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you had found something worth fighting for…A wonderful memory

Everything was going well, but there was one problem; you had to explain all of this to Lily. Although your daughter knew Wanda, she didn’t know what relationship it was, didn’t know that Wanda was your fiancée. You thought she might not understand at her age, but she had to know.

You scooped her into your arms after breakfast, her giggles warming your heart as you carried her to the couch. “Lilly, sweetheart,” you began softly, brushing a stray curl from her face. “You know Wanda, right?”

"Yes! She is the second prettiest lady in the world because number one is you!"

“Well,” you continued, “I love Wanda. I love her the same way I used to love Daddy. And she loves me too. She’s going to marry me, which means she’ll be part of our family forever.”

Lily blinked, giving you a semi-confused stare, "But.. but Wanda is a lady!"

Your heart clenched. This is what you were afraid of, that she wouldn’t understand, but you stayed calm, gently taking her small hands in yours. “Yes, sweetheart, she is. And that’s okay. Love doesn’t have to be between a man and a woman. What matters is how much we care about each other and how happy we make each other. And Wanda makes me very happy. She loves you too, so much.”

A few seconds later, your daughter mouthed a big “O” as if something big just dawned on her, but stayed quiet nonetheless. You smiled a little and ran your hand through her hair, “There’s nothing wrong with two women loving each other, you know?”

“Ohhh, so now I have two mummies!" She squealed, clapping her tiny hands together and a toothy smile appeared.

Your face brightened at her unexpected words, “Yes honey, you now have two mummies!”

Coincidentally, the front door swung open and Wanda walked in, returning home from work. She flashed you a wink as she entered. "I'm back, sweetheart."

Lily scrambled off your lap and dashed to her, hugging her right leg. Wanda's eyebrows rose. "What's this for, cutie?"

"You're my second mummy! I love you even more now because I know you're my mummy too."

Wanda’s lips slowly parted in shock. She looked up at you, then down at your daughter, then up at you again, and so on. The joy radiating from her face made you light up as well. “Y/n, did you hear that?" She asked, barely above a whisper.

"Loud and clear." You said, smiling. Tears welled up in your eyes, but you didn’t bother wiping them away. You walked to your sweet daughter and your soon-to-be wife and hugged them both tightly.

You successfully found yourself a new family and you were the happiest woman alive.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #marvel #mcu

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sparklingblu · 6 months ago

Text

Inferior Activities

Lia x M Reader

"How's the salad?"

"Oh, it's great" you answer as you try not to grimace after swallowing the lettuce that taste no different from paper.

"I made few twists to the dressing, you know. A family secret" The bald man winks as he takes another bite of the potato that would have turned to coal if it have been roasted a minute more.

Studying the plates of green laid out all across the table, you make a firm decision never to become a vegan. At least not if your father in law is gonna be your chef. Lia has warned his cooking skills are terrible but you didn't expect it to be this awful. The only tolerable content of the table seems to be the so-called vegan meat and even that's starting to taste lesser and lesser like meat with each bite. No offense to all those animal loving vegans out there but they really are missing out a lot in their life. You wouldn't have lasted a day if you have to survive without meat.

Your eye flicker up to Lia, seated across, to see if she's on the same page with you on the matter. She lazily plops a broccoli into her mouth, her eyes betraying no signs of disappointment. The corner of her lips twitch in a thin smile as if to mock your suffering. She looks contented even.

In the end, you only have yourself to blame. When Lia suggestsled you visits her dad on the weekends, you agreed with a simple nod. Sure, it's your first time meeting her old man but what could go wrong? Right?

Except that everything does. As soon as you enter the house, the first thing the dude asked you was your opinion on wildlife conservation. At first you thought he was joking then you find out he's actually very serious about the matter. Weather talk would have been a good starter. Seriously, who starts a conversation like that?

Then after seeing the dishes he has prepared, you find out making conversation is the least of your worries. He's your father in law and you have respect for him and all but this dude is horrible at being a vegan. If he calls his mushroom soup which tastes more like mushroom-flavored dishwater 'a masterpiece', you might as well consider becoming a chef. Who knows? Maybe you will even get a couple michelin stars.

You are thinking of a way to escape this organic hell and the constant ear rape about how billions of animals are killed per year for human consumption when Lia finally comes to your aid.

"Dad, we are nearly done. Why don't you go make your signature smoothie? I haven't got the chance to taste it since I left for college" she suggests and the old man's eyes twinkle with maddening joy.

"Oh, of course! How could I forget that? It was your mother's favorite" his tone turns solemn at the mention of his late wife but you are too focused on the idea of finally getting some breathing room to care. "Two smoothies. Coming right up! You will absolutely love it" He winks at you again and leaves the table.

You drop your utensils and exhale in relief. "Finally. I was gonna turn into stone if I hear one more second of his animal talk"

Lia chuckles. "I get used to it after living with him for 18 years. He's actually a really sweeet guy. He just tries to focus on something else after my mom passed, I guess"

If the fact is supposed to make you feel sorry, it doesn't work. But you are not gonna tell her that. "How do you survive with this kind of food all these years?"

"It wasn't always that bad" Belle protests. "And sometimes he even cooks meat. But his skills get rusty with old age"

"Yep, I'm never becoming a vegan"

Lia pouts in annoyance. "Oh, come on. It's not that bad"

"Suits yourself"

"You just hate vegetables in general"

You roll your eyes in feigned annoyance. "Look, who's trying to follow her father's steps"

"Whatever" Lia finally gives up, pushing up her glasses from her nose. "I'm still hungry you know...."

"Maybe we can go to McDonald's or something later"

"No, daddy" Lia's voice turns low and sultry. "You know exactly what I want"

You look around in a panic to see if her dad has overheard your conversation. Thankfully, the guy's busy cutting carrots on the kitchen counter.

"Lia, I told you not to call me that in public. Especially not when your literal dad is right here" you warned, though you can't deny the fact that hearing her call you the name get your blood flowing backwards.

"Oh, come on, daddyyyyy" she pushes on, stressing the last word to make it sound even more fervorous. "I know you secretly love it"

"Look, babe. I love the name but this isn't the right place. Seriously, your dad's right there"

"So what?" Lia puts her elbows on the table, propping her chin in her palms. "Don't you enjoy a little risk?"

"Come on, babe. Not right now. I will make it up to you when you come back"

"But I want it now" Lia whines, the pout reforming on her lips. "Need to taste daddy's big cock. Need it shove down my throat"

"Lia...." you hiss, becoming aware of her tone, increasing by the second.

"Daddy pleaseee" she gives you those bambi eyes she knows you can't resist. "Let me suck your huge cock. I need you to fill up my mouth with your hot cum. I have been a good girl, haven't I? I deserve my reward" Lia runs her tongue along her top lips to punctuate her wish.

With the way her words get your asleep mamba waking up, you already know you are fighting a losing battle but you still need to be the one in charge here. "Alright, fine. But-"

"Oops. I drop my spoon" The metal hits the floor with a loud clang and Lia immediately dives down the table. It's an overused trope. You have seen it in hundreds of porn videos and you are no stranger to it. But you have never thought you would be in a similar situation and this time, the risk is very real. Her dad is not a paid actor who would pretend to be oblivious at the scene which would soon unfold.

"Is everything ok?" Lia's dad shouts from the kitchen counter, now washing.....are those eggplants?

"Yes, mister! We are gold!" You replies, hoping he would stay focused on his veggies.

You look down and find Lia already kneeled between your legs, a flicker of amusement in her eyes behind those glasses. Her lips curve into an impish smile. "Just stay still and let me do all the work, daddy" she whispers, her hands already working on your zipper. With one swift pull, she opens it up, revealing your red underwear underneath. "Oh, daddy's wearing my favorite colour today" Lia muses as she grabs your cock over the thin fabric, her thumb tracing slow circles. "Daddy, you are already so hard"

As much as you want to prolong this pornographic session, her dad is not going to be in the kitchen forever and you don't want to give him a heart attack. "Babe, enough teasing. Make it quick" you warn and her thumb rests on your head, pressing down on that sensitive spot she only knows. You let out a half-formed moan, not daring to be loud.

"You know the magic word, daddy. No need to be so formal" she presses again and you grit your teeth.

"Start sucking my cock, you slut" you calls her by her favorite nickname, which intsantly gets her engines revving.

"Yes, daddy" she release her grip, pulling down your underwear. Your rock hard cock springs out in a flash, hitting her spectacles. "Someone's eager" Lia chuckles, placing her brown locks behind her back, preparing for the main course. Her left hand close around your base, pumping it up and down in an agonizingly slow pace. She looks at your cock like it's something glorious, something she should be worshipping. But that's not so far from the truth. If this slut wants to choke on your cock, you are gonna permit it happily.

"Daddy, you are so big" Lia mutters dreamily, her free hand fondling your balls each at a time. The combination gets your mind cloudy, basking in the pleasure you nearly forget the whole point of this.

"I don't see you sucking my cock?" Lia stops her movements at your words and you nearly reget telling her to stop. But that doesn't last long because Lia instantly starts obliging to your command.

"Patience, daddy" With that, her rosy lips seal around your tip, taking you partly into the warmth of her mouth. Meanwhile, her hands grab your shaft, working in unison with each drag of her lips. The twist of her fingers along with her tongue that swirls around your slit gets you throwing your head back, letting out a graon. Then you quickly recompose not to expose yourself.

Lia doesn't seem to be bothered. Getting caught seems to be the last thing on your mind as she slurps on your head with fevorous vigour. Like it's the most delicous lollipop she has ever tasted. Her tongue gathers up any pre cum that leaks from your slit, taking it straight down to her stomach. She would takes anything your cock has to offer.

Every moment or so, you would check on her dad, making sure the guy's still busy brewing his organic potion which contents are starting to get weirder. But as long as he's busy, you don't care what he's putting into that blender. It's the best for him and you. You doubt the old man would be as merciful to you as he is to wildlife if he finds out his daughter is giving you head under his table.

But the task proves to be harder because Lia's dad would throw you ocassional glances and you have to put on this stupid grin everytime, which is not so easy with how Lia's sucking you off. Now she has taken half your cock into her mouth, her cheeks hollowed with unfathomable suction. Her hair sways with every bob of her head, forming silky waves of hazel. All the while, she keeps her eyes on you behind those circular frames, those pools of black seems to be asking if she's doing a good job.

"God, Lia....just like that" you grip the edge of the table to compensate for not being able to rejoice in the bliss of Lia's wet hole freely. Your head darting up and down as you keep watch on her father as well as enjoy the view between your legs.

Your shaft is now ringed with red as Lia leaves tarces of her lipstick mixed with her saliva while her lips glide smoothly along your cock, making it a red wet mess. Not like you mind. She can keeps messing it up all she wants.

Her tongue action doesn't waver either, licking up any available part but escpecially under your tip to tackle your weak spot each time she takes you in. To add icing on the cake, she has her left hand wrapped around your base to pump the lengths unattended by her mouth, not leaving out any throbbing vein.

You are helpless against her attack, the only action from your side to keeps grabbing the tablecloth into an unshapely tangle. And even that's starting to fail at holding back your moans.

A loud whirring sound fills up the place as Lia's dad starts brewing all those green stuffs in the blender. He gives you a thumbs up and you smile back, shammming excitement. The sound of the blender blades reminding you of the disguisting smoothie you will soon have to drink.

However, Lia takes advantage of the noise by taking your whole length down on her throat, the loud gagging sound lost in the echoes of spinning blades. You take the chance to make any audible sound that would let you express your euphoria. A moan. Then two. Then a couple more. It no longer seems to be ending as Lia devour your cock like a hungry animal, hitting the back of her throat each time she deeothroats.

Drops of saliva litters the ground. The evidences of Lia's godly work. Gags after gags escape her mouth in rhythm with your moans. However, escape won't be suitable here with the way your cock is blocking her airway. But that isn't a problem because she would choose your dick over oxygen.

The blender keeps whirring and Lia keeps choking on your cock. Her glasses now tilted at a strange angle from the force of her movement, the temple hanging on one ear only. Currently, her vision isn't as important as the taste of your dick on her tongue.

Lia finally pulls back, trails of saliva running from your tip to her lips. A waterfall of saliva staining her white shirt. Her tongue rolled out and her temples dripping with sweat.

"Daddy....am I...good?" she pants like a bitch in heat, all her lipsticks all gone.

"Very. But you gotta finish what you start my little slut"

"Yes, daddy. Feed me your thick cum. I want it all"

"Then come and take it"

Lia dives back on your cock, immeditaely swallowing your whole length. You groans out at the burst of pleasure, her throat constricted around your shaft. Lia holds her position, her nose pressed to your pelvis for a few moment before pulling back, just to start fucking her throat on your cock again and again.

The sound of the blender stops and you hear the clink of glasses. Turning your head, you find Lia's dad pouring the green liquid into two glasses. It would only be a few minutes before he comes back.

Lia seems to realize to because her lips form an airtight seal around your head and her hands satrt pumping your shaft furiously. Using all your willpower to hold out from finishing earlier leaves no strength left to withstand Lia's final assault. Your cock starts throbbing and soon you are spilling your cum into her mouth. Some reaching her tongue, the other flowing straight down her throat. Lia's fingers keep twisting back and forth and you empty the last drops of your protein rich fluid into her welcoming hole.

You close your eyes, breathing hard. The relief is instant as much as the build up is agonizingly blissful. Lia releases your cock with a pop and lick up the remnants of cum on the tip. You are too lost in the euphporic finale you totally forget the perilous situation you are in. When you realize, it's too late.

Lia's dad is near the table, two glasses of the green smoothie in his hands. His face is a mixture of shock and distress as he stands rooted to the spot, his eyes fixed on her daughter's face a few centimeters away from your spent cock. His mouth opens but before he can speak, Lia chimes in.

"Thanks for the meal daddy. But I don't think I'm going to need the smoothie. I already have dessert"

◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇

#itzy smut #lia smut #kpop smut #male reader

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bomber-grl · 1 year ago

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Mike Schmidt relationship headcannons !

Pairing(s): Mike Schmidt x Gn!Reader

Note! Has some plot | This is my relationship headcannons for movie Mike, stating this because I just might make video game Michael Afton headcannons aswell in the near future

Very closed off and not looking for a relationship

He had hired you to take care of Abby when he was away and that’s how you two began getting closer.

Not the best conversation starter, however when you gave him the opportunity to speak about the dream theory he starts going on about it.

Then he apologizes and begins feeling a bit unsure and awkward.

It never really advanced from there and he’d almost constantly apologize and reassure that he’d pay you soon, but you never really cared for it.

Really peaked his interest when he realized that Abby had really grown to like you and began inviting you to do things with the both of them.

You, of course accepted and eventually Mike had started developing feelings for you.

Just as you did for him.

He didnt act on them at first.

Primarily Because he doesn’t see himself in a relationship, especially not with someone like you with him.

You were amazing, and he was a sad grown man who had to care for his little sister, and not even in a way he saw proper.

So of course he shuts it down, telling himself it’d be better off that way.

However, some way, somehow you got involved with Freddy’s pizzeria and you not only managed to save him but also Abby.

Then from there it just went uphill.

He got a better job, better pay, and is able to connect with Abby easier.

Not only that but the custody battle has been leaning in his favor.

He had no one to thank but you.

You’d take Abby to school, occasionally cook for them, and you were always reliable.

One fateful evening you and Mike were just hanging out in the living room.

Talking and just watching whatever was on TV.

Then he brought up your relationship, and stated that he’d really like to start one with you, a romantic one, that is.

You of course, said yes, and he was relieved and happy at your reaction.

But then Abby came to mind, what would she think?

You asked him this almost immediately.

But he reassured and said that the final push was actually when Abby hinted/teased her older brother about your potential relationship, then ran off.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and an awkward atmosphere hung in the air but then Mike went to hold you hand and it made it semi better.

The next morning you almost immediately told Abby and she was so happy.

Which really relieved the both of you.

Things had changed, albeit subtly.

And although Mike wasn’t the most physically affectionate, probably due to him being pretty much touched starved and traumatized.

He tried his best to convey his affection towards you with teasing and joking around.

You’d often just enjoy the others company and bond mostly with Abby around.

If you were to ever do something even a little bit flirty around her she’d immediately be grossed out.

Which was funny, and was mentally noted to ever do again in her presence, even if it was just a kid friendly comment.

Your guy’s first kiss was pretty intimate

I mean Mike had never seemed much interested in kissing or doing anything further down the road.

However, after a particularly draining day, and horrible weather outside, Mike had offered you to stay for the night.

Abby was so excited and the three of you played with her just a little bit over her curfew then sent her off to bed.

When you were finally able to be alone, Mike, very awkwardly and a bit bashful, offered for you to sleep in his bed.

You, like the amazing person you were, rejected and said that it was fine and that he should just sleep there.

Not completely understanding that Mike didn’t mean separate, but together.

Once he bashfully explains that all you can do is mutter out an “oh” and go along with it.

Pretty awkward as you both just lay down as stiff as rods in silence.

Then you guys begin talking.

And it’s just you two talking about whatever at like 2 a.m, trying your best to keep it down.

If you decide to be bold and make a move by asking if you could cuddle with him, then he’d hesitantly agree.

Again, not because he hates you, but because he’s an awkward guy.

So once you’re settled in each others arms you start talking about each others traumas and mostly hidden things.

It’s the sleep deprivation getting to you guys.

Well once you’re both finished venting and just being vulnerable you decide to make a move and lean forward, giving him plenty of time to move if it’s not wanted.

But he didn’t, and the clash of your lips followed soon after and how drawed out it was won’t be mentioned by either of you either.

Things not only start changing and he’s side hugging you more (publicly)

Although not really into pda

And be more affectionate (as he can)

I’m sure at one point you get so comfortable with one another that although awkward moments occur, most of them spent together is just you saying cringe stuff and making him regret ever making it out alive of Freddy’s.

From then on, not only do you tease and get a worthwhile reaction but he’s always hugging and giving you cheek kisses in private.

He’s also grown fond of cuddling, just because of how close he gets to be to you.

If you were to ever tell him he’s hot.

He’d get really taken back but then laughs it off and says whatever.

(Saying this because I know those fans of him exist 😭)

Honestly it’s kind of hard for you to tell when he’s being sarcastic or not😔

He’s always making snarky and joking remarks and hard to tell when he’s just being his sassy self.

Honestly home dude is just trying his best and his relationship with you really lightened up his life even more.

Note! Should I make a pt 2 with Mike as your husband?

#gn reader #female reader #male reader #fanfic #fluff #fanfic fluff #fnaf micheal #fnaf mike #fnaf movie #fnaf fanfic #fnaf fandom #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #five nights at freddy's #relationship headcanons #fnaf #sassy man apocalypse

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kaiserposting · 3 months ago

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How to Subtly Show Someone You're Interested

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader WORD COUNT: 2.4k TYPE: Humor, Bad flirting, bickering WARNINGS: huge Kaiser tw

#1 Eye contact

Kaiser has been acting strange.

Usually this would not be an observation you'd be making (as he acts weird all the time so it's not worthy of note), but today he's been so odd, it's starting to bug you even more than his default level of being annoying.

He keeps just… staring blankly. At you. You don't know what you did to deserve this horrible treatment — perhaps you did not grovel enough after accidentally butting into His Majesty’s shoulder, or breathed in his direction too hard without permission, or some other similar tragedy — but it's getting unsettling.

Well, honestly, it was creepy to begin with, but it's making your skin crawl more and more the longer it goes on. Like, what does he want? Are you going to be on the news soon? His eyes are blue and lifeless and evil like always, so you know he can't be up to anything good each time he burns your body to a crisp with his stoic serial killer gaze. It's even worse when he smirks at you while he does it, that's how you know the torture you'll endure at his hands will be slow and painful, and he's already delighting in his demented plans before putting them into action.

Kaiser attempts to maintain his stare down with you while he makes his way out of the training room and you stay behind putting away whatever you need to, observing him in confusion and fear. Though, of course, you would not admit to something as lowly as letting Kaiser intimidate you out loud (since you don't want to partake in an action that seems to give him a mental orgasmic feeling), at least to yourself, you can concede you're on edge.

… That is, until his dedication towards being a scrote proves detrimental even to him because he runs into the wall, hitting about half his face. It seems tormenting you is too distracting for a sick sadist like Kaiser. He palms at his skin, probably seething to himself while trying to seem cool and collected and totally not on the brink of shitting himself in anger on the outside, as if such a small thing as a solid wall could not faze him or even cause him pain.

You point and laugh at him. Kaiser pretends not to see you and walks out tall and proud like nothing happened. This will have to do as your revenge, for now.

#2 Initiate conversation

“Did you have a nice weekend?” asks Kaiser.

“It's Tuesday,” you reply, once again confused. Why is he talking to you, does he have nothing better to do.

“Right,” he says in a casual tone, like he didn't just ask you an irrelevant dumbass question. “The weather is nice.”

You ignore that one, but you can't help wondering if something is wrong with him and if this is an obscure call for help. Blackmail from a drooling fan perhaps? After all, it's unlike him to say anything so boring and ordinary, and you don't imagine he would make small talk with you unless it's a complicated code to signal that his life is in danger.

“What restaurant would you recommend?” Kaiser tries again.

“What?”

There's an uncomfortable silence during which you're just looking at each other, you perplexed and him expressionless, the previous guise of pleasantries and fake sweet smile wiped off. It is possibly even more uncomfortable than anything else that has unfolded between you two in the past. Then Kaiser says, “You know, I think you're an ingrate.”

“What?!”

“You’re not appreciative enough of my efforts.”

“For what?!”

Kaiser scoffs, averse to elaborating due to humiliation (either because of his apparent failure or because it's plain embarrassing to state his intentions when you don't seem receptive to them or because being outright on the matter requires him to express himself, which is in nature disgusting). Then you watch while he walks away from you in a moody fit.

Well, at least if he has the energy to act temperamental, that must mean he's not in any shittier spirits than usual. It is way less unnerving than his earlier civility, for one.

#3 Compliment them

Kaiser has no respect for personal space. Or more like he only deems his need for such important and disregards everyone else's. You know this.

But you can't lie in good conscience that he's gotten this close to you before, examining you, leaning in way too close. Close enough that you feel Ness planning your murder from across the field. Close enough to warrant a harassment complaint.

You assume Kaiser must be looking for miniscule flaws to fake laugh at like a missing eyelash or the fact that you have pores, but instead of doing what you predicted, after a long while of making you almost throw up from nerves — what's with this guy and staring at you like a microbe under a telescope so much? — he says, “You have beautiful sclera.”

???

You bristle at the sound of the strange thing he said. Unperturbed by your visibility negative reaction, Kaiser continues,

“And I love the way you look at me, like you want to kill me. It gives me a thrill.”

What's wrong with this guy? you think to yourself.

“Your bone structure can almost rival mine-”

“Kaiser, stop talking nonsense and go… back to doing something else somewhere away from me.”

“Hmph.” He backs off to a more socially appropriate distance, crossing his arms. “I see you still haven't fixed your attitude.”

“Me? I need to fix my attitude?! When you're the one acting like a depraved person?”

“Wow, if you think that's what I'm doing, you must not understand anything about the world at all,” he says in a condescending tone, smirking at you with played up amusement.

“You have some nerve! Kaiser, go away before I take advantage of my position and put rat poison in your water bottle. It'd suit you to go out that way.”

“You're so obsessed with me.”

After that declaration, he whips around to make a dramatic and majestic exit, with a deliberate swat of his hair to your face. Maybe you'll be spitting out gross blue strands after this. You fume to yourself.

#4 Light touches

Once again, Kaiser is plaguing you. Today's method of inflicting trauma seems to involve more gratuitous touching than usual.

He awkwardly drags his hand over your shoulder.

You stare at him as if this is the most scandalous offense you've been on the receiving end of. Maybe it's not, but he's been walking on your nerves all day with other such inept attempts at caresses. “Did you just wipe something on my sleeve?”

“What?” he asks in a flat tone. “No. Are you dumb?”

Your expression doesn't show anything other than incredulity. Certainly not the fluster and admiration Kaiser is hoping for.

You then go right back to ignoring him like he is dust. This is outrageous, he's going to be sick. Kaiser takes fate into his hands and embraces you stiffly from behind (once again showing his lack of etiquette).

Startled, you ask, “Are you gonna put me in an octopus hold?”

“No? Do you always have to assume I'm going to do something bad to you?”

“Well, it's not like you ever do anything good.”

Kaiser lets go of you even though he doesn't want to — truly a moment of his character development you're witnessing —, his arms dropping limply by his sides while he frowns at you like a kicked kitty. Exquisite manipulation tactic, however, you're not moved by the display at all.

He says, “I still think you need to fix your attitude.”

You roll your eyes and let him have his little moment with his snide remark. An immediate retort hasn't come to mind after all, and you'd rather play it off as disregarding him than admit to the shameful lack of a comeback. It's not your fault his incomprehensible behavior leaves you speechless, anyway.

#5 Be there for them

Kaiser decides to skip this one as it's even more vile than when he lowered himself enough to the point he tried to hug you.

#6 Use humor

Kaiser stands in front of you, trying to think of something funny to say, which isn't an activity he engages in often (as the comedy of his existence is often unintentional or manifests in the form of being a bitch for no reason and antagonizing people unprovoked). During this process, you're once more forced to endure the weight of his unrelenting, vacant stare.

“I have a controversial football opinion,” says Kaiser, finally.

“As usual.”

“The ball is sentient and it hates getting kicked around like that.”

You tilt your head, not understanding why Michael Kaiser would say something so… silly? “Well, I'm sure you take some delight in imagining that,” you say in an unsure voice, not knowing how else to reply.

Kaiser smirks at you in an attempt to shrug off his latest failure and feign casualness. Then he tries again because his spirit is as tenacious as his gawping. “You should always make sure to distinguish between ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘I apologize’ at a funeral.”

“Why? Do you speak from experience? Is that a little slip up from when you attended the funeral of one of all those people you killed?”

“No. I think if I killed someone, I'd be the type to facetiously say ‘rest in peace,’ just to piss them off in the afterlife.”

“I can imagine you doing that. Good for you I guess.”

Kaiser snickers to himself — maybe because he's enjoying imagining all his enemies dead — and plays with his fingers in an almost nervous manner, which makes you question if you're perhaps hallucinating. He ponders if he's funny or not.

#7 Text them

(04:55 AM) Michael Kaiser: [5 image attachments]

(06:32 AM) You: why are you sending me shirtless mirror pics lol

(06:46 AM) Michael Kaiser: Wrong person

(06:50 AM) You: did you mean to send that to ness

(07:02 AM) Michael Kaiser: No

(07:05 AM) Michael Kaiser: ???

(07:43 AM) You: well you only talk to me and him so if it's not for us who else could it be for

(07:44 AM) You: lol don't tell me you did that to seem sought after haha

(07:48 AM) Michael Kaiser: Let's stop talking for a little while.

#8 Give them attention

Kaiser gives you plenty of attention, and he doesn't even make you do tricks for it. Like for example right now, when he's poking you in the ribs while you're trying to fill out something unfinished on the tablet during your break.

You slap his hand away. “Kaiser. What.”

He moves onto poking your neck instead, forcing you to wiggle away from him as he continues his antics despite your dodging.

“What do you want?!”

“I just don't want you to feel neglected by me,” he says in a tone he probably believes is suave.

“I don't.”

“You're trying to seem brave, but your eyes give you away.”

“You're crazy,” you say, not even in shock or embarrassment, but rather a very apparent disorientation. “If anything I've been overdosing on you lately.”

“There’s never enough of me. You don't need to pretend just to humble me. It's not cute nor clever.”

“Kaiser, quit it before I cut off your finger and poke you with it instead.”

To your surprise, Kaiser stops. You watch him warily for a few seconds before feeling safe enough to turn around and try doing your work again.

Kaiser pokes you on the sides.

#9 Playful teasing

“You look like shit today,” greets Kaiser with a smirk, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Did they let the clown academy off early today?”

“Kaiser, you're so immature.” You shrug him off. Usually you'd allow the contact, granted he's not being rude or creepy, but he's done the former a nanosecond into the conversation, so you're not going to stand for it.

“I assume you're stupid or uptight enough to take me seriously. That's always fun.”

“Trust me, you're the last person in the world I'd take seriously.”

“No, but really, you're quite unencumbered by the standards of beauty today.”

“So I'm ugly and stupid? Awesome, thank you so much.”

His traitorous hand which had grabbed at your shoulder earlier moves lower around your waist instead, pulling you closer. At his actions, you squint your eyes and look at him as if he is a dirty wet sock. “Don't worry, I'd still take you though.”

This horrendous thing he just uttered makes you gape in shock. Then it morphs into disgust, and you smack him on the arm and retch at him.

#10 Mention being single

You expect something horrific to happen this time when Kaiser approaches you, but instead, out of the blue, unprovoked, nobody asked or moved — as most things are with him — he announces, “By the way, I'm single.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, not sure what to do with this information. “Yeah, that figures.”

“What do you mean? Tons of people want me, but I don't want them back. That's why I'm available, that's all.”

“Don't explain yourself to me, I don't care,” you say flippantly, crossing your arms and shifting your weight to one leg.

“Well, you should.”

“Sure, Mr. ‘Sorry Wrong Chat.’” You snort.

Kaiser upturns his nose and glares at you. “You’re mischaracterizing me and presenting that whole situation wrong. For one, I didn't say sorry.” Then he scoots closer to you, grinning without smiling with his eyes whatsoever. “Anyway, I'll forgive you. As long as you remember the main point, which is that I'm single.”

“I know, dipshit.”

“Wow, can't you rub your little brain cells together, the whole two of them, and understand what I've been getting at?” Kaiser snaps, frustrated that the fruits of his incompetent labor aren't ready for reaping yet.

“It's not my fault you can't say whatever you have to say properly,” you say, delivering your line in a pointed tone so that he can grasp the implication you're making this time.

Kaiser blinks with the small frown still on his face, a remnant of his earlier scowling. Then realization sets in and his lips form a thin line instead. His cheeks color slightly.

You're fucking with him on purpose.

___

Some slop I wrote on my phone on vacation in between drinking and sweltering in my own gooch in the sun. Enjoy or don't

#michael kaiser x you #michael kaiser x reader #kaiser x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk x you #blue lock x you

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ellecdc · 9 months ago

Note

My love!! I have an idea for fic (only if you want to of course) james potter x reader where james is obsessed with reader’s tits and after a minor couple arguments james was still sulking and reader wants him to be the first one to talk to her so she wear very revealing clothes to tease him and he give in.

It doesn’t have to be a smut, just teasing and fluff!

hahaha awe this is so funny - the best part is, it would so work!!! Thanks for requesting 🫶

James Potter x fem!reader

CW: mention of boobs/tits/love of tits - no smut, joke about dying from suffocation on account of boobies

You were being petty; both of you were. In fact, the two of you seemed to be working overtime just to stay mad at each other at this point.

You can’t even really remember what you had argued about in the first place that caused this rift between you and James; all you knew was that you were not going to be the first to apologize.

It had been a few days since the big blow up that saw James uncharacteristically stern and firm in his words and left you feeling horribly defensive in response. Words were said, feelings were hurt, and now you were here.

Here being this awkward quasi-polite energy in your few measly interactions as you tried to co-exist in the same flat.

He made dinner one night - shrimp korma and a side of homemade naan - and you may have been mad, but you weren’t a jerk, so you thanked him for it.

You had been cleaning the flat one day and started a load of wash. You had more than enough room for more clothes, and not doing James’ wash just for the sake of it wasn’t worth the extra hit to your water bill (which wasn’t an issue, but old habits die hard in your case), so you threw his in too. And once it was washed and dried, well, you figured you might as well fold it and put it away for him.

He had to begrudgingly thank you for that as well.

So now it was the weekend, and the two of you were clearly dying to update each other on your weeks. You couldn’t help but admit that you really missed James. You missed chatting with him, you missed laughing with him, you missed venting to him, and you missing cuddling with him.

There were other things you missed but... that was neither here nor there.

All this to say, the feud needed to end.

But you were steadfast in your stance that you were not going to break first.

The idea came to you yesterday morning when James returned from his run sans shirt and muscles glistening with sweat in a way that actually had your mouth watering like some kind of deranged off-brand Pavlov experiment. The worst part was that James had noticed you ogling him and walked away to shower (alone, the bastard) with a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

No matter, this just served to give you your brilliant master plan to win him back.

You had something James adored... two things, as a matter of fact.

Anyone who knows James Potter knows that James is a certified Boob Guy™. More specifically, James Potter loved your tits. You had two assets free to use in this battle, and you weren’t going to let that advantage go to waste.

The weather, it seemed, supported your master plan and was finally warm and sunny enough to break out some of your more... revealing clothing. Today’s ensemble consisted of a particularly low neckline and tight-fitting tank top. You gathered a book and a bottle of water as you walked towards the back door for the terrace. James, being completely unable to break his good mannerdness even in the face of petty feuds, jumped up to get the door for you when he noticed that your hands were full.

You made a point to use your elbows to encourage the girls a little closer together as he approached, causing him to stumble in his steps as his eyes strayed from his destination.

“Thanks, Jamie.” You murmured quietly, making sure a cool sense of indifference still coloured your tone. That seemed to shake James from his reverie as he looked up at you, a look of regret seeming to cross his face briefly at not being able to do what he would normally opt to in this situation (i.e., shove his face between them and die due to suffocation).

“’Course.” He offered instead of saying “oh my god I love your boobies” and cleared his throat, closing the door gently behind you as you made your way to a lounge chair.

You knew James wouldn’t have gotten far, so you read a few pages before deciding to step up this little ruse.

You slipped your tank top off to display your torso, boobs only supported by a thin bandeau wrapping around your chest. You poured a little water into your hair and then onto your chest to cool off when you heard a solid thunk on the panned glass of your back door.

When you turned to look, you saw James’ retreating form and the tell-tale imprint of his forehead against the window where he had been standing previously.

Though you knew you made an impact today, James seemed resolute in his sulking. No matter, tomorrow was a brand-new day.

Being a brand-new day, your morning outfit was a pair of joggers that you rolled the waist band a few times to expose more abdomen paired with a cropped top that was probably a touch too cropped to begin with, let alone paired with your currently braless state.

You could have sworn you heard James try (and fail) to suppress a groan as you entered the kitchen. You hid a smirk as you offered him a faint ‘morning’ and began readying yourself a cup of tea.

Apparently, James’ self-restraint snapped when you stood on your tip-toes to reach the honey on the second shelf of your cupboard; the action of you raising your arm causing your shirt to also lift sinfully.

“Angel.” He keened, causing you to turn your (what you hoped to look like an) innocent expression on him.

“Yes, Jamie?”

He groaned again and stood from the breakfast table, taking slow, cautious steps towards you. “I’m so sorry, love I... I hate that I let us go this long upset with each other.”

Your mouth pinched to the side as you spread your arms – inviting James into your embrace which he was all too eager to accept. “I’m sorry too, bubs. I’ve been immature.”

He half-chuckled half-groaned into your shoulder as the two of you relished in the feel of being in the other’s arms.

“You are a cheeky little minx, torturing me like this.” He muttered.

“Like what?”

James scoffed and pulled back to look at you incredulously, but any mirth in his face was completely curtailed by the fondness oozing from his warm brown eyes.

“Oh, I’ve missed you.” He said as he bent his knees to be at eye level with your tits before he shoved his face right between them.

You rolled your eyes though he couldn’t see it, asking “who? Me or my tits?”

He was quiet for a moment as he thought about his answer. “Both?” He said, voice muffled from his place in your chest.

“I’ll allow it on account of your withdrawal.” You conceded.

Note to self: all future arguments can be solved by flashing a little under-boob.

#ask elle #marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter imagine #james potter fic #james potter fluff #james potter blurb #ellecdc fics

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mononijikayu · 4 months ago

Text

from the start — fushiguro megumi.

“You’re now my friend, Fushiguro–kun!” You smile at him, turning to your snack pile and handing him one. It was a panda bread, one of those he sees at the convenience stores. “Here, as a token of our friendship!” He blinked. “...It’s okay. You can keep it. I’m not hungry—” You pouted, pushing it toward his arm. “But Fushiguro-kun, these are good! If you take them, you end up making a wish that our friendship is sweet too!” “Huh? There’s no such thing as that.”

Genre: Alternate Universe — Canon Convergence;

Warning/s: Alternate Universe, Romance, Fluff, Comfort/No Hurt, Strangers to Friends, Friends to Lovers, Sorcerer! Reader, Mild-Tsundere! Megumi, Feelings, Romantic Confession, Getting Together, First Kiss, Making Out, Light-Hearted, Humor, Protectiveness, Happy Ending;

Words: 5k words.

masterlist

kayu's playlist - side 800;

note: i rewrote this multiple times because i wasn't satisfied. i was going to upload this hours ago, but i ended up reading it and i was like 'shit this doesn't look as good as i would have liked' and now i finished it and i love it now. i hope you love it too!!! i love you all <3

┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓

MEGUMI REMEMBERS THE DAY HE MET YOU. The sun was shining brightly that day. He could remember how the golden rays cast a warm, inviting glow over the middle school courtyard. Students milled about, enjoying their lunch break under the clear, blue sky. The air was filled with the sounds of laughter and chatter, a vibrant tapestry of youthful exuberance.

Fushiguro Megumi doesn’t really remember when he ever partook in anything that big. Even in kindergarten, he really didn’t find himself in a big group of people, messing about. It’s something that Gojo Satoru had consistently teased him about for years. It’s not that he didn’t want to. He just didn’t know how. And if anything, it frustrates him. Because he does want to. He wants to reach out to someone and talk to them. Even just one. But he knows his reputation wouldn’t make it easy.

He was known in school to be someone who got into trouble. And it makes it even more hard, knowing that Gojo manages to make every bit of trouble and complaint go away. a flick of a finger. Even back then, whatever the trouble — Gojo Satoru would insist.

Of course, he lectures him here and there, as any pseudo–parent would. Yet he still saves him, no matter the trouble. But it’s not like Megumi wanted trouble. Somehow, it always just finds him. Because if he was being truly honest with himself, Fushiguro Megumi doesn’t like injustice. And he hates it even more when it’s done to people minding their own business.

That’s how Megumi met you. On the third day of the school year, it was a chilly afternoon. You sat on a bench, unbothered, watching the chaos unfold with a peaceful expression as you prepared to eat lunch. The sound of laughter and chatter filled the air, people making friends and people talking about in their freetime.

He saw you from one of the windows by the second floor. He already ate his lunch with his sister a while ago, but he wasn’t particularly hungry and her friends had come over to their spot. So, he just left to go look at the school through a window and enjoy the weather.

And then he stops at you. You were so quiet, but he could feel it. How your energy just bursts from within you. You smiled happily as your focus was fully on the carefully packed lunch box resting on your lap, filled with your favorite snacks. You seemed content with some silence, it didn’t bother you. You were just excited to eat well.

The serenity was abruptly interrupted when a sleazy boy, with a smirk that revealed a missing tooth, snatched the lunch box from your hands. Megumi always hated the kid the moment he met him too. He was a senior, but he acted like he owned the place. You would think that he would learn his lesson being knocked out by him. But he didn’t. And that annoys Megumi. Because he could continue to do horrible things. Like now. That sleazy boy’s eyes gleamed mischievously as he darted away, leaving you momentarily stunned.

You quickly stood up and shouted, your voice slightly trembling, "Hey! Give that back!"

Megumi didn’t know how fast reacted. Jumping from out the window and into the scene, it would have taken someone much longer. But he took no time at all. That sleazy boy can feel it. Fushiguro Megumi, famed for his deeply sharp gaze. He approached the boy with the stolen lunch box and effortlessly blocked his path.

"Hand it over, scum." he said, his voice calm but commanding, leaving no room for negotiation. “Or do you want a repeat of what happened last time, huh?”

The elder boy hesitated, caught off guard by the sudden confrontation, and glanced between him and you before reluctantly dropping the lunch box at his feet and muttering under his breath as he slinked away.

He picked up the lunch box and walked over to you, offering it back to you. “Here you go. It didn’t drop, you know….the food.”

You took the lunch box, feeling a warmth spread across your cheeks. “Thank you. I didn’t really know what to do.”

He shrugged, his expression easy and relaxed. “No problem. I’m glad I could help.”

You nodded, a small smile forming on your lips as you introduced yourself. “I really wasn’t expecting that. Thanks for the save. Hey, hey! What’s your name?”

“I’m Fushiguro. Fushiguro Megumi.” he replied back. “I’m from Class 1–A.”

“Ehhhh, I didn’t see you in class!” You gasped. “We’re classmates!”

Megumi thinks he would have noticed if you were his classmate. But then again, he did get bored and slacked about the other day. It’s quite possible that he didn’t just notice you. He shrugged and nodded at you.

“I guess we are.”

He blinked. “...It’s okay. You can keep it. I’m not hungry—”

You pouted, pushing it toward his arm. “But Fushiguro-kun, these are good! If you take them, you end up making a wish that our friendship is sweet too!”

“Huh? There’s no such thing as that.”

“But that’s my wish.” He doesn’t know how your pout got deeper. But it suited you. “Please, just take it.”

He really doesn’t know what to say. He could feel his palm embalmed with sweat. If he doesn’t take it, you might pester him even more. And if that happens, he wouldn’t be able to leave because you’ll continue to ask him to take the panda bread. He could feel heat rising in him. He could feel it even in his ears.

“Alright, fine. Megumi relented, taking the panda bread from your hand. The soft packaging crinkled as he reluctantly accepted the snack, feeling the eyes of several classmates on him. It was strange, this sudden attention, but there was something about your insistence that he couldn’t quite ignore.

You beamed, satisfaction lighting up your face as if you’d achieved a small victory. “Yay! Now we’re officially friends!”

Megumi glanced at the panda bread, his expression softening despite himself. He supposed it wouldn’t hurt to indulge you just this once. It’s not like its going to be something that happens on a daily basis. Anything to get you off his back.

“Thanks….I guess.” he mumbled, unwrapping the bread and taking a small bite. The sweetness of the filling surprised him. It’s good, not too sweet. He thinks it's great and he finds himself nodding in approval.

“See?” you said, watching him intently. “Isn’t it good?”

“It’s... not bad.” Megumi admitted, trying to maintain a semblance of nonchalance. But he could feel the corners of his mouth twitching upward, a sign that perhaps your enthusiasm was contagious.

“Let’s make a deal then, Fushiguro–kun!” you proposed, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Every time we hang out, I’ll bring you a new snack to try, and you can tell me if it’s good or not. Deal?”

Megumi considered your offer, weighing the potential for more unsolicited treats against the undeniable warmth in your smile. It was hard to say no to that sort of smile. It reminds him of Tsumiki somehow. It’s….it’s pure.

“....Fine.” he agreed finally, unable to resist the sense of camaraderie forming between you.

And just like that, Fushiguro Megumi found himself drawn into your world, a place where small gestures held deeper meanings, and new friendships could be sealed with a simple piece of panda bread. And somehow, when he walked away from you as you waved him away, he was afraid to admit it then. But, he wanted more.

┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓

IN A BLINK OF AN EYE, YOU WERE IN MEGUMI’S LIFE COMPLETELY. He really didn’t expect that to be the cas. But all these lunch hours turned into days together in the classroom and turned into weeks in the abandoned classroom, and as always, your new tradition took root. It was now his normal. You were now his normal. And he couldn’t say it was a bad thing.

Every day, without fail, you would meet up. It didn’t have to be at lunchtime anymore. For a while, he didn’t know why he’d make time, but his body had gotten so used to needing to find you, to meet up. He thought you’d bother him again, and you were good at finding him.

When you did, you’d present Megumi with a new snack, each more interesting than the last. Sometimes it was a sweet treat, sometimes savory, but always chosen with care and a mischievous glint in your eye as you awaited his reaction.

As time went on the awkwardness slowly dwindled. He felt like he was finally starting to get used to your presence in his life. You are his constant now, his routine, his day to day. Slowly but little, Megumi found himself looking forward to these small exchanges.

At first, he couldn’t understand why. It was just a simple gesture, after all. But there was something about the way you offered him each snack, the way your eyes lit up with anticipation, that made him feel...special. It was as if you saw something in him worth noticing, something he hadn’t seen in himself.

One afternoon, as the two of you sat under a large cherry blossom tree in the school courtyard, you handed him a small box wrapped in a colorful cloth. “Today’s snack is special, Megu–chan!” you said, your voice full of excitement. “I made it myself!”

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. He doesn’t mind you calling him that. “Really? You cooked this?”

You nodded, a hint of nervousness creeping into your smile. “I hope you like it.”

Megumi carefully unwrapped the cloth, revealing a neatly packed bento box filled with an assortment of foods. It was….it was cute. It was a dog chara–bento.His shikigami dogs. You saw his shikigami before. Very well, and he could only surmise that you were just like him. But he hadn’t asked. And he wasn’t going to do that now.

His eyes widened in surprise. “You made all of this?”

“Yep! Go on, try it, Megu–chan!” you urged, watching him intently. “I made it all for you.”

He picked up a piece of tamagoyaki with his chopsticks, examining it before taking a bite. The sweet, fluffy texture melted in his mouth, and he couldn’t help but let out a small, appreciative hum. “This is really good, you know?” he admitted, looking at you with genuine admiration.

Your face lit up with a radiant smile. “I’m glad! I was a bit worried it wouldn’t turn out well. I really…I really tried to do well. I didn’t know your taste in bento that well yet, so I was nervous!”

Megumi shook his head, taking another bite. “You’re talented. This is better than most of the things I’ve tried from the other places. Don’t worry. You…you did great.”

The compliment seemed to fluster you, and you ducked your head, a faint blush coloring your cheeks. “Thanks, Megumi–chan! It means a lot coming from you.”

At that moment, Fushiguro Megumi thinks he felt a strange warmth spread through his chest. It was an unfamiliar sensation, one that left him slightly off-balance but not unpleasantly so. He realized he was beginning to look forward to these moments not just because of the snacks, but because of you. The easy way you talked, the kindness in your eyes, and the genuine interest you showed in him—it all made him feel like he was part of something special.

He thinks nothing of it.

He really thinks it's nothing.

He could feel his heart thump.

“Shit.” He whispers as he went home that day. “Is this….Is this something?”

He couldn’t sleep much that night, and laid in bed, thinking about you. As the days went by, Megumi found himself seeking out your company even outside of your snack-sharing ritual. You’d come over to his house now to study together, share stories about your day, and laugh over silly jokes that only the two of you found funny.

Gojo was good at teasing him about it, Tsumiki too but she gave you space. Still….he’d endure the teasing. He liked you—well, he liked having you around. He liked how comfortable he was with you. Even if he doesn’t speak most of the time. You were fine with that. Megumi thinks he was lucky. It was easy, being with you, and he couldn’t remember the last time he felt so at ease around someone.

But with that ease came something else, something deeper and more complex that Megumi wasn’t sure he knew how to handle. He caught himself thinking about you at odd times—during class, while training. Gojo had managed to corner him in training badly and had to ask him if he was okay.

Megumi thought he was being subtle but even when he was supposed to be focused on other things. He wondered if you thought about him, too, if you felt that same inexplicable pull he did. He wished you did. He wished that you thought about him as much as he did with you. Maybe then…maybe, he’d be able to sleep at night. And dream of you.

It was during one of your afternoons together after club activities. The birds were singing, the air was clear, the sky was as blue as it could be. You hummed a song as you ran your fingers through his hair. He was reading the book aloud. You said you liked his voice and….no was hard to say. To you, especially. So, he just did as you asked.

But now he was tired and he thought that laying on the grass was comfortable. But you furrowed your brows like you always do, so cutely —and pulled his head on your lap and pouted. You said you make comfort more than the grass did.

Megumi was lucky that his face wasn’t facing you. You would have noticed it. How red his face is. But you were too focused on the clouds. So, that he was glad about. As you both lay on the grass watching the clouds drift by, Fushiguro Megumi found himself on the verge of admitting something he wasn’t quite ready to face.

“Hey, Megumi?” you said suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence. “You hear me? Are you awake?”

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I’m really glad we became friends, you know?” you confessed, turning your head to look at him. “You make school a lot more fun. Actually….You make everything fun. You’re my bestest friend. And you just….I’m so lucky to be with you.”

He met your gaze with his blue–green gaze, feeling a rush of warmth at your words. “I’m glad too….” he replied, his voice quieter than usual. “You’re...important to me.”

The sincerity in his voice seemed to surprise you, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. Megumi was often blunt with his words. And at times, it's hard for people to understand him. But there were times he preferred to keep things to himself.

He couldn’t vocalize it well yet. But at this moment, you think you were waiting for it for a while. And you finally have it. The world around you faded into the background, leaving just the two of you in this garden of eden.

As you smiled at him, Fushiguro Megumi felt a strange flutter in his chest, a sensation that was both exhilarating and terrifying. His chest was throbbing, over and over. He pursed his lips into a tight line, looking at you as you stared into the sky again.

He realized then that he didn’t just want to be your friend. Not anymore. He didn’t want that name anymore. He wanted to be something more, something….something beyond that. He wanted to say it, to make it real to you. To him. But nothing came out.

‘Not yet, Megumi.’ He thinks to himself. ‘Not the time.’

This was enough. For now, this is what he has. Friends. That’s better than nothing. He’d have to hear you talk about some other guy for now. He’d have to deal with your tears when this guy hurts you. He’d have to deal with being just your friend.

Your best friend. He can do it. He’s content. He can wait. This was more than he’d been able to ask for. He was content to be by your side, to bask in the warmth of your presence and enjoy the sweet moments you shared.

Because even if he couldn’t quite find the words to express how he felt, he knew that with you, he’d found something truly special. And that was enough. At least, for now. But one day. He knew that one day he’ll find his voice. His words will make their way to you. They will. Because he….he loved you. And love? It should always make way. It will always know how to lead him there to you.

┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓

HE NEVER THOUGHT THAT YOU WOULD JOIN HIM HERE IN TOKYO. But you were a sorcerer and you were needing training too — so you joined him. He knew from the beginning that you might be recruited by some of the other sister schools.

You after all had potential and the other sister schools would love that in their ranks. In fact, he found out later that your parents were Fukuoka alumni. They were retired sorcerers, who retired for wanting to enjoy watching you grow up. They wanted for you to attend their sorcerer school too.

But you thought it would be better for you to join him in Tokyo. You knew that being together would make it easier. You were friends, meaning you wouldn’t have a harder situation. You’d have Megumi, as you always had.

And Gojo-sensei, as Megumi calls him now, was good at charming your parents. That had been a surprise to you, but it seems the Gojo charm was something that could not be stopped. And that settled everything. You were going to go to Tokyo with him.

Though, he couldn’t help it but he worries about you. He knew you were perfectly capable of taking good care of yourself. He’d seen you stand your ground against Maki-senpai. But being a Jujutsu Sorcerer, there was no guarantee that you’d live another day against curses.

It terrified him to think that he would lose you, that he’d end up without you at all. He…he was close to losing Tsumiki already. And it pained him to think he would be unable to protect you. To think that you wouldn't come home after a mission.

Like always, Megumi didn’t think he’d be able to voice it out loud. He was scared of what you would think. What if you got angry at him for thinking you weren't enough? What if you thought he was belittling you?

He didn’t want it to come across badly. And he was already bad at explaining things. He sighed as his thoughts became heavy. It must have been the exhaustion from training. Yeah, he was overthinking it all. He could tell you well. You’d understand what he was saying.

Still, the nagging worry persisted, and he realized he couldn’t keep these feelings bottled up forever. Every day he spent with you, Fushiguro Megumi felt his heart swell with emotions he couldn’t quite articulate.

It was becoming harder to ignore the way his thoughts wandered to you during missions, how his heart skipped a beat when you smiled at him, and how the mere thought of losing you was unbearable. If he didn’t say something soon, he might explode, and that would be both messy and embarrassing.

So, he decided that today was the day he would finally confess. He had to. There was no going back on this. He was in love with you from the start. He knew that. Backing out now….he’d just suffer. And so his free day was spent thinking about you and lamenting about you.

He spent the morning overthinking every possible outcome, mentally rehearsing what he would say. He had even considered writing down his feelings, but each attempt ended up crumpled in the wastebasket. He was at one point close to breaking his mirror. But he realized that would make him worry more because of bad luck. So he stopped.

The entire day had passed, and Megumi still hadn’t managed to confess his feelings. He’d woken up with every intention of telling you how he felt, but each opportunity slipped through his fingers like sand.

In the cafeteria during breakfast, he’d seen you sitting at your usual spot, animatedly discussing the latest manga you were reading. Megumi had slid into the seat across from you, silently willing himself to say something—anything. Instead, he sat there, listening to you talk about what you were excited about today, nodding along as you spoke.

“...and then I found out there’s going to be a new chapter released next week!” you said, your eyes bright with enthusiasm. “Can you believe it, Megumi? I’ve been waiting for this arc for months!”

Megumi forced a smile, trying to focus on your words instead of the nervous energy buzzing inside him. “That’s great.” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m glad you’re excited.”

You raised an eyebrow, sensing something was off. “You okay? You seem a little...distracted.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he lied, avoiding your gaze. “Just thinking......about some stuff.”

You accepted his answer, but he could tell you weren’t entirely convinced. You always knew what he looked like when he’s lying. But you let him do it. You don’t think that you should pry. He will open up eventually. He will tell you what’s wrong when he's ready. He always has.

Later, as the two of you went for a walk around the school grounds, Megumi tried to muster up the courage to finally speak his mind. The sun was high in the sky, casting dappled shadows through the trees as you strolled along the path. You walked close enough that your shoulders occasionally brushed, sending a thrill through Megumi each time.

“This weather is perfect these days, you know!” you remarked, tilting your head back to gaze at the sky. The sun was shining brightly, casting a warm glow over everything it touched. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves, filling the air with the fresh scent of summer. “It’s days like this that make everything feel...right, you know?”

Megumi nodded, silently agreeing as he walked beside you. He couldn’t help but notice how the sunlight highlighted the contours of your face, making you look almost ethereal. Your hair fluttered slightly in the breeze, and he found himself mesmerized by the simple beauty of the moment.

The two of you had fallen into a comfortable rhythm, your footsteps in sync as you meandered through the school grounds. The path was lined with vibrant flowers, their petals swaying gently in the breeze, adding a splash of color to the serene scene. It was a perfect setting, and Megumi knew it was the right time to speak his heart.

He could feel the words forming in his throat, the weight of them pressing against his chest. Every time he opened his mouth to speak, doubt crept in and silenced him. What if he messed up? What if he said the wrong thing and ruined everything?

He glanced at you, searching for a sign, anything that might give him the courage to speak. Your expression was peaceful, content, as you took in the beauty around you. It was moments like these that reminded him of why he’d fallen for you in the first place.

He took a deep breath, feeling the cool air fill his lungs. His heart was pounding, a relentless drumbeat that seemed to echo in his ears. Megumi knew he couldn’t let this chance slip away, not again.

“You know….” he began hesitantly, trying to sound casual despite the nerves bubbling inside him, “I’ve been thinking a lot lately.”

You turned your gaze to him, curiosity sparkling in your eyes. “Oh? About what?”

Megumi hesitated, momentarily losing his nerve. His mind raced through all the possible ways to say what he needed to. Finally, he forced himself to speak, his voice quiet but determined. He looked at you. Your eyes were the clearest he had ever seen. It took his breath away for a moment. You pat him. He forgot how to breathe.

As you walked side by side, Megumi found himself growing increasingly tense, his nerves threatening to overwhelm him. He had been working up the courage to tell you how he felt, but now that the moment was here, his heart was racing so fast that he almost forgot to breathe.

“Are you okay?” you asked suddenly, glancing at him with concern. “You haven’t breathed in a while!”

“It’s... alright. I just forgot,” he replied, trying to sound more relaxed than he felt.

You snickered, giving him a playful nudge. “What do you mean you forgot how to breathe?”

He laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “I guess I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

You tilted your head, curiosity piqued. “Like what?”

Megumi took a deep breath, feeling the cool air steady his racing thoughts. This was it—the moment he’d been waiting for all day. He couldn’t let his nerves get the best of him now.

“About us. About how much I enjoy being around you,” he said, his words tumbling out more awkwardly than he’d hoped. “I mean, we’ve been through a lot together, and...well, I really like having you in my life.”

Your expression softened, and Megumi could see the understanding in your eyes as he continued to speak. His heart was pounding, but with every word, he felt a sense of relief, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

You paused, processing his words, and he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d made a mistake. But then you smiled, a soft, genuine smile that eased his fears. His ears were red. He seemed embarrassed. And nervous. He looked so cute.

“I like being around you too, Megumi.” you replied warmly, your eyes shining with sincerity. “You’re one of my closest friends. You know that. You’re my best friend.”

Megumi’s heart sank slightly at the mention of friendship, like a souffle collapsing in the oven. He could almost hear the sad trombone playing in the background. This was his one shot to get this right, and he knew he had to be clear.

“Yeah, but I mean...I like you as more than just a friend.” he blurted out, his words coming out in a rush like a nervous racehorse out of the gate. He blinks. Oh. He just said it out loud.

You blinked, surprise flickering across your features. “Huh?”

“I...I like you,” Megumi repeated, his voice cracking slightly, sounding like he was a teenager going through puberty all over again.

“You do?” you asked, your eyes widening in disbelief, as if he’d just revealed he was secretly a wizard from another dimension. “Wait, what?!”

He nodded, feeling the weight of his confession lift from his shoulders, though it left behind a trail of awkwardness. He rubbed the back of his neck, struggling to find the right words. “Yeah... I’ve liked you for a while now, but I didn’t know how to tell you. I was afraid I’d mess things up between us. Because we’re friends, and I didn’t want to—”

Before he could finish his rambling explanation, you leaned in and planted a quick, unexpected kiss on his lips. The suddenness of it left him momentarily speechless, his blue–green eyes wide and blinking rapidly, like a startled owl. You turned, hiding your face in your hands. It was too red all over for you to even reveal. Megumi didn’t know what happened. You….you kissed him? You did it first? What happened?

“Nghh—” Megumi exclaimed, his brain short-circuiting for a moment. “That was... I mean, not that I didn’t want that, but... uh, wow.”

Finally recovered — you looked at him and still clearly amused by his flustered reaction. “I figured…… I’d shut you up before you started overthinking everything. You know, like you always do.”

He huffed, trying to regain his composure. “I don’t overthink that much.”

“Uh-huh, sure,” you teased, giving him a playful nudge. “So, does this mean we’re a thing now? Do I get to call you my boyfriend?”

Megumi hesitated, his usual stoic demeanor struggling to catch up with the situation. “I guess so. If you want to. But only if I can call you my partner.”

“Deal!” you replied with a cheeky grin. “Though I have to say, you’re not as smooth as I imagined.”

He sighed, pretending to be exasperated. “Well, sorry I’m not a charming prince. But at least I’m honest.”

“True, and that’s why I like you.” you said, leaning in to kiss him again, this time slower, savoring the moment. “From the start, you know?”

Megumi’s heart did a little flip as your lips met his, a sudden rush of warmth spreading through his chest. It was as if a dam had broken, releasing a flood of emotions he hadn’t realized he’d been holding back. He couldn’t help but smile against your lips, feeling a mixture of relief and happiness.

For a moment, the world around him faded away, leaving only the two of you in your own little bubble. The tension that had been building inside him all day melted away like snow under the sun, replaced by a sense of lightness and joy he hadn’t known he needed.

His mind, usually a constant whirl of thoughts and calculations, was blissfully quiet, focused entirely on the simple yet profound sensation of your closeness. He could feel the gentle pressure of your hand on his shoulder, grounding him in the moment.

As the kiss lingered, he became acutely aware of the details—the softness of your lips, the way you seemed to smile against him, the faint scent of your shampoo carried on the breeze. It was an odd mixture of overwhelming and comforting, as if the universe had aligned just for this perfect moment.

When you finally pulled back, he found himself at a loss for words, his usual stoic demeanor nowhere to be found. Instead, he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, his eyes searching yours for reassurance.

The look on your face—affectionate and a little amused—told him everything he needed to know. Any lingering doubts he had vanished, replaced by a newfound confidence in the bond you shared.

As the two of you broke apart, you chuckled, “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Easier than fighting a cursed spirit,” Megumi admitted, his voice tinged with relief as the corners of his mouth twitched upwards in a rare, genuine smile. The normally stoic expression he wore was softened by a warmth he could no longer hide.

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes flickering between yours with a mix of shyness and longing. “Can I…,” he began, but the rest of his sentence faltered as if the very thought of what he wanted was almost too overwhelming to put into words.

Before he could finish, you took the initiative, a playful sparkle in your eyes. You stepped closer, closing the small gap between you with a confident, yet tender, movement. Your hands found their way to his shoulders, gently guiding him as you leaned in.

Your lips brushed against his in a kiss that was both reassuring and electrifying. It was a kiss that seemed to capture all the unspoken emotions and the depth of what you both felt. The sensation was soft yet intense, a slow dance of warmth and intimacy that seemed to make time stand still.

As you deepened the kiss, Megumi’s initial nervousness melted away completely. His hands instinctively cupped your face, his fingers feeling the gentle curve of your jaw, as if he was afraid to let go and have this perfect moment slip away. The kiss was tender and full of the promise of something more, a shared connection that felt as solid as it was fleeting.

When you finally pulled back, your lips lingered just a breath away from his, the faintest smile playing on your face. Megumi’s eyes fluttered open, meeting yours with a look of awe and contentment. His cheeks were flushed, and there was an unmistakable softness in his gaze.

“You were saying?” you teased gently, your voice a soothing murmur.

Megumi smiled, still feeling the echoes of the kiss on his lips. “I was saying,” he replied, his tone now brimming with a newfound confidence, “that I definitely want more of this.”

You laughed softly, leaning in to give him another quick, light kiss before resting your forehead against his. “So do I.” you whispered, the warmth of your breath mingling with his.

With that, you both pulled back slightly, but your hands remained entwined. The world around you felt like it had shifted into a perfect harmony, where every little detail seemed to fall into place. You finally felt like you finally belonged where you are, in his arms, from the start.

┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓

epilogue

The late afternoon sun cast a golden hue over the campus as you and Megumi continued your walk, your hands linked together in a comfortable, affectionate hold. You were enjoying the tranquility of the moment, the weight of the day’s earlier tensions now replaced with a sense of ease.

As you reached a secluded spot near the edge of the campus, the world seemed to narrow to just the two of you. Megumi leaned in, his gaze soft as he captured your lips in another gentle kiss, savoring the newfound closeness you both had discovered. The kiss was tender and unhurried, a shared promise of more to come, until—

“Hey, lovebirds! Time’s up!”

The sudden intrusion of Gojo Satoru’s voice startled both of you. You pulled away, cheeks flushed, to see Gojo Satoru standing a few paces away with his trademark blindfold, that ridiculously dashing wide grin and a mockingly exaggerated pout.

“Having a moment?" With that, Gojo turned on his heel, his laughter echoing as he walked away, leaving you and Megumi standing there with a mix of relief and lingering embarrassment. Megumi lowered his head, muttering. You think he’s about to conduct a curse against Gojo Satoru.

Megumi’s eyes widened in surprise, and he quickly stepped back, trying to regain his composure. His face was a deep shade of red, and he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, clearly caught off guard.

“Gojo-sensei, what—” he mumbled, clearly flustered. “We were just—”

You turned to Megumi, who was still trying to compose himself, and said with a smirk, “Well, I guess our moment’s been officially interrupted.”

Megumi sighed, shaking his head with a faint smile. “Yeah, thanks to Gojo-sensei. But... I guess it’s kind of funny.”

You nodded, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “It is. And at least we know we have his approval.”

“We don’t need it.”

“He’s….he’s your dad, isn’t he?”

“Hgh— no he’s not!”

“But—”

“No, he’s not!”

“Ah, they’re arguing. Their first couple argument!” Gojo Satoru says, still laughing. “True love!”

“Shut up, Gojo–sensei!”

512 notes · View notes

dreamsontheirway · 2 years ago

Text

It’s Not Your Fault | S.R.

Summary: You leave work late one night and someone follows you. Spencer x reader. Warnings: stalker, sexual assault/unwanted touch Word Count: 1.7k

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Spencer hated it when you had to work late nights. You were also an agent at the BAU, but sometimes you had to stay late to complete paperwork. He would stay late with you on occasion, but you hated inconveniencing him. Of course, he would never consider it an inconvenience.

He had offered to stay late with you again tonight, but you refused. He had such a long day and you knew he needed rest. Besides, you wouldn’t be too long.

It was only around 9 pm when you were finishing up your work. You heard the shrill beep of your phone, indicating a notification.

Hi darling. Almost finished?

You smiled at his message. You quickly sent a reply, letting him know that you would be leaving imminently. Almost immediately, he replied with a thumbs up and a heart.

You began compiling all your papers and files, now completed, and placed them in the filing cabinet at your desk. You stood up, grabbed your satchel bag, and admired the look of your tidy desk before turning on your heel and walking towards the door.

You normally parked in the parking garage attached to the building, but earlier today it had been massively full due to a conference. You were forced to park in the garage down the street a ways. This wasn’t so bad; the early fall weather was the perfect kind to walk in.

You began your short trek from your building to the parking garage, adjusting your satchel bag on your shoulder. It made you a bit nervous how dark it was already, but it wasn’t a far walk by any means.

You were about halfway there when you heard the light scraping of shoes on concrete behind you. You snuck a glance and saw a dark figure about fifty feet away. Most of the time men on the street were harmless, but you were an agent, and you had a bad feeling about this. There had been a few cases recently about women being assaulted in this area.

You assumed you were just being a bit paranoid. It had been a long day of looking at horrible case notes, after all. You decided to walk diagonally across the street as a short cut, and to see if the figure behind you did the same. Your stomach twisted tightly when the figure followed your path exactly. The figure had gotten closer, too, by at least ten feet.

Your hand instinctively went to your hip. Shit. You had left your gun locked up in the office. Shit.

You could hold your own in a fight, but you had absolutely no clue what you were up against here, and no back up.

You scrambled and fumbled your phone out of your pocket, and clicked the most recent contact on your call list. He picked up on the second ring.

“Y/N, are you on your way home y—“

“Spencer,” you whispered, with an intensity that resulted in a thick silence on the other end. You typically called him Spence. He knew something was wrong. “Someone’s following me. I left my gun in my desk.”

“Shit,” Spencer exclaimed, frantically. “Shit. Where are you?” You heard rustling on the other end.

You were a talented agent, and Spencer knew you wouldn’t call him unless you thought there was something seriously wrong. Unless you thought you couldn’t handle it. The thought sent a shiver down Spencer’s back.

“I’m almost to the parking garage, but there’s no one around. Spencer, I don’t know anything about who’s behind me. I don’t know what to do.”

The person behind you was getting closer, but you were talking quietly enough so they couldn’t hear you. You were growing increasingly frightened. You knew you were trained for this, but you were still a relatively new agent, especially in comparison to Spencer and the rest of the team. You’ve had your fair share of creepy men come on to you, but you had the advantage of analyzing them and knowing what you were dealing with. You didn’t have that advantage this time around. You could assume the figure behind you was a man by the heavy steps, but that’s about it.

“Keep walking, quickly. I’m on my way. I’m texting the others. Stay on the line with me, please.” His voice was desperate; you could tell he was just as terrified as you. You knew one of his biggest fears was losing you. Your mind briefly flickered to the realization he’d probably never let you work late without him again. The thought seemed comforting in the moment, and you found yourself wishing he was here.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up stiffly.

“Hey baby,” a deep, slimy voice spoke, a few feet behind you.

Damn it, you thought. You had been preoccupied talking to Spencer, you hadn’t realized how much closer he’d gotten.

You ignored the voice, and continued to walk quickly. You were unsure about how to handle the situation. You just wanted to get to your car. You could see it shining in the distance, the beams of light dancing on the windows from the lights in the parking garage. Luckily, you had parked on the lower level so it would be easy to access.

“Hey, I’m talkin’ to ya,” the deep voice continued.

You could hear Spencer frantic on the phone, asking who the voice belonged to. You ignored him; you had to focus on making it to your car.

“Hey!” The voice bellowed, and a strong hand clutched your arm tightly, and you knew it would bruise.

You yanked it away, turning around. “Do not touch me.” You demanded, releasing a shaky breath.

Spencer was losing his mind. “Y/N,” he gasped. “I’m almost there. Hold on.”

You just breathed out in response. You slipped your phone into your back pocket, still on the call with Spencer.

“What’s a pretty lady like you doing alone out here on a night like this?” The man questioned. He smirked, his teeth crooked and his eyes a piercing blue, so different from Spencer’s soft and comforting hazel.

“I’m going home,” you stated, continuing towards your car, but angled so you could continue to watch the man.

“Come on,” he smirked. “Aren’t you up for a little fun?”

He lunged then, grabbing the sides of your arms and pushing you against the concrete wall right next to the parking garage. You struggled against his grip. He had caught you off guard, and he was much stronger than you.

“Let me go,” you spoke deeply, as venomously as you could muster, although the slight crack at the end wasn’t very intimidating.

He just hummed in response, and let his hand travel down your arm and rest against your hip. You squirmed against him, but his grip was far too tight. You felt bile rising up your esophagus at the touch of the vile creature in front of you.

You whimpered, tears pricking your eyes. You couldn’t move. You had no part of your body free to even attempt to utilize the years of training you’ve had. The bastard knew what he was doing, and it terrified you.

The man’s large and sweaty hand traveled further, and squeezed at the fabric of your ass. Against your wishes, your let out a light sob.

All of a sudden, the man was torn away from you, his tight grip causing you to stumble forward onto the grass. It all happened so fast and you looked in the direction of where the man had been pulled to.

You saw a familiar head of brown, wavy hair. Spencer was clad in a Caltech sweatshirt and jeans. He really had left the house as soon as you called. He always preferred to wear a combination of slacks and a button down or sweater.

Spencer had the man pinned against the wall, one arm against his throat and the other — oh my god. Spencer’s right hand had his gun pressed to the man’s side.

“Don’t fucking touch her. What gave you the idea you could touch her?” Spencer growled, his left arm adding pressure to the man’s throat. Spencer rarely cursed; you knew he was pissed. The last time you saw him like this was during the whole events with Emily. But even then… this was different. The veins in his neck were popping out so much it looked like they might burst. Spencer was often protective of you, knowing the dangers out there in the world, but you hadn’t ever seen him like this.

“FBI, put your hands up!” A loud voice boomed to the left of you and you quickly looked towards it, breathing out when you saw Morgan, his gun pointed towards the man and Spencer.

Despite Morgan being here now and you being safe, Spencer didn’t budge from his position against the man.

“Agent Reid,” Morgan boomed, harshly, knowingly. He knew how much Spencer cared for you, and how quickly his emotions could escalate when something he cared about was threatened.

Spencer loosened his grip slightly, and the vile man against the wall lifted his hands up in defense. Spencer hesitated, then finally released him, but pushed the man against the wall as he let go.

Morgan rushed forward and took Spencer’s place, twisting the man so his front was against the wall. He grabbed his wrists and placed them in cuffs.

You were sat, watching the scene in front of you. You felt helpless, vulnerable, stupid. You were an agent of the FBI, how could you have let this happen? You choked back a sob, but a whimper left your lips against your will.

At the soft and solemn sound, Spencer’s gaze dashed to you and his eyes were filled with worry. He rushed to you then, cursing himself for not attending to you earlier. He lifted you from the grass, clutching your shaking form against his own.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He asked, his hot breath against your ear.

“Just my pride,” you choked, laughing grimly. “I’m so sorry I let this happen.”

His grip on you tightened, his strong hand pulling the small of your back towards him. “Don’t say that. It’s not your fault. We’re pretty sure he’s the unsub the local police department has been looking into.”

You shuttered at the thought. You felt like one of the victims whose smiling face was on the board in the conference room. You felt weak.

As if Spencer could hear your very thoughts, he whispered against your hair, “It’s not your fault.”

-----

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