#always gonna have him blushing and shy

[deathfavor]

@yeonban said: "just stay like that and let me admire how beautiful you are." It's half a teasing order, considering the hands that continue to roam all over Seiroku's body even after Soma's paused his previous endeavor, as well as half an unadulterated desire to take in everything Seiroku is presently gracing him with before continuing - from every insignificant detail of his body, to the pose he's holding, to the sounds and movements now forever ingrained in his memory.

A breathless laugh gently finds its way past his lips as lithe limbs lay amongst rich fabric. His skin glistens in the dim lantern light, reflecting in the dip of his collarbone. Stray strands of midnight hair stick to his cheeks, alongside his throat and shoulders while vibrant blue gaze up at Soma above him. He sucks in a sharp breath when he feels fingertips glide over his sides, coming to rest upon his hips when the order is granted to him.

" You say that as if I have a choice. " Seiroku teases back, lips drawing into a relaxed smile ( if a bit playfully scheming. ) In truth, he probably could change it if he so desired. He is a strategist after all, and should he wish to turn the tables, there is no doubt he could find a moment to enact a playful scheme. Though he also knows well that he need only voice such wants and Soma will grant them. But Seiroku is happy to let Soma have what he wants, to enjoy the teasing orders and power play even if it is for fun. It makes for an interesting dynamic ; to have two people who yearn for the other's enjoyment above their own.

Perhaps that is how it is meant to be. The desire to sate the other that in turn leave both pleased. But for his experience, he cannot say he's ever met someone so intent on his pleasure above their own. Some have cared, some haven't. But those who did was not to this degree. It makes his chest ache with a painful warmth like a welcoming fire after hours left in the cold. No matter how many times Seiroku is reminded of this, it never fails to flood him with warmth. He could almost cry from that alone, not to mention the looks and words that are granted to him too.

" Soma. " The name rolls from his tongue, euphonious and lovingly spoken to draw his beloved's attention towards him. He lifts his chin slightly in an unspoken wish for him to draw closer and give him a kiss. A kiss that he fully sinks into, where he can press his love into the slide of their lips together and his hands move to slide over Soma's shoulders and keep him closer. I love you. Each kiss, each breath, every movement so full of the overwhelming affection. When Seiroku does pull back, it's with a warm smile, lips pressing to his jawline. " You look like you're at a feast ~ " He murmurs playfully; but he enjoys seeing the open desire on Soma's face. He enjoys hearing what Soma craves and wants even if it is as simple as to be admired. ( Even if it causes shades of pink and red to paint over his skin. Such sweet words still never fair to fluster, especially behind closed doors in private intimacy of each other where they ring twice as powerful and true. )

One hand slides down from Soma's back, gently roaming down his shoulder and his arm. He can feel each muscle, trace their curve till he reaches Soma's hand, splayed against his own hip. He shifts one leg, baring himself a bit more to Soma's gaze even with the knowledge that Soma already knows every inch of his skin as it is. It takes nothing away from the playful tease and invitation of the moment, on the contrary, to know what is there might only make the yearning stronger with the promise of what is at hand.

" You can do whatever you'd like, admiring included. " Seiroku murmurs, smiling against Soma's throat. " Although if you choose to only admire the whole time, I might have words. " Sweet, clear laughter chimes in the air with a lighthearted cheeriness to it. Yet it is truth both in this scenario and any other, so great is his love for Soma.

He presses one more kiss to Soma's lips before he relaxes once more, lashes lowered halfway in invitation to the desires. " I'm yours. " A simple statement, a powerful promise.

[softbabybelle]

𝜗𝜚 c!w. dirty talk, sexual themes, aftercare, shy!reader, soft!rafe.

heavy pants filled the air of rafe cameron's bedroom. the breaths bounced from wall to wall as he laid his back against the mattress, chest slightly heaving.

his eyes were busy, darting across each of your features and trying to gauge any emotion.

"c'mere, baby." you felt his hand grab at your upper arm, his own large bicep curling around you, holding you close so you could feel the warmth of his body radiate off of your own.

you were trying to regain your breath, softly breathing through parted lips as your head laid against the boy's chest, legs already beginning to dangle between his own.

it was hard to ignore the sudden heat to your face, a blush creeping across your cheeks.

you'd had sex with rafe quite often and you didn't think he was keen on slowing down anytime soon. though neither were you. however, it was only in your shy nature to feel suddenly flushed against him.

he felt you nuzzle against him. it was almost as if you were trying to hide your face in the crook of his neck.

his words plagued your memory.

"that feel good, sweetheart, huh?" "fuck, baby, your pussy's so fuckin' warm." "there you go, good girl." "love bein' fucked by this dick, i'nt that right, angel?" "like bein' my good girl, huh? all mine, that's it, baby.".

rafe's lips often spilled words that were awfully crude when he fucked you.

"y'okay, sweetheart?" he felt you nod in the crook of his neck. rafe was typically soft after moments like these, especially like tonight, when he knew he pushed you a little further than normal. "you're quiet. not upset, yeah?"

once again, he felt you nod.

he gently moved you, nudging your face with his nose. "gonna answer me, princess?" you sort of blinked at him. "with words."

he felt you squirm against him. "'m okay." you muttered, though your voice was so quiet it hardly reached his ears. while the tips of your own were turning red.

the stare he was using seemed a little dangerous. "yeah?"

a hum was on the tip of your tongue but it was awfully hard to concentrate when he was looking at you like that. his head slightly tilted, eyes piercing into your own, pretty lips bent into a slight smirk. all you could think about were the filthy things he was whispering in your ears not five minutes ago.

shrinking in on yourself, you had to shy away from him.

finally, he got it.

his lips quirked up into a smirk. "getting shy on me now, huh?" rafe liked to tease. "all shy like you weren't jus' gushin' around my dick, baby?"

"rafe!" you shot your hands up to cover your bashful face with a blush spread across it.

"what?" a half laugh fell from his lips, hands pulling your own from your face so he could look at you. "you liked me talking earlier." you uttered something, rafe didn't hear it. "speak up, angel." nudging your face with his nose for the second time. something about the act seemed soft, gentle.

once again, you squirmed. "'said stop bein' mean."

his brows raised. "how am i being mean, sweetheart?" a laugh on the edge of his tongue but he held it back, not wanting to make you feel more embarrassed than you already did.

"'cause." your fingers were absentmindedly trailing up his arm, eyes too focused on trying to escape having to look at his face. god, you couldn't look at his face.

while rafe was merely staring at yours. "you're cute." the grin sitting on his lips and the cocked brow was enough for you to hide your face in his chest. he heard you mumble something about him having to be quiet. "'m serious, baby." he pulled your face up with his fingers hooked around your chin. "my shy girl, 's so cute."

the way he spoke to you had your head feeling sort of blurry, a floaty feeling that you couldn't quite understand.

"head feelin' fuzzy, princess?" you nodded at his words, confused on how he always knew what was going on inside your head. it seemed he knew better than you did sometimes. "'s okay, pretty girl, c'mere."

for the second time that night, he pulled you in closer, this time you were practically on top of him, bodies wrapping together like gloves. as rafe said, you "fit so perfectly, like 't was made for it."

"that's right, princess, 'm gonna take care of you." with a kiss to the crown of your head which he watched you hide instantly. "gonna take care of my shy girl, yeah?"

all that you could muster was a nod.

[sant-riley]

[Touchy feely] [tf141 headcanons]

(Romantic impied Task force 141 boys x gender neutral!reader headcanons :))

Summary: Being the sweetheart of the task force means the boys are not shy about the fact that they're all simps and always want some sort of contact with you at all times.

Consists of romantic/suggestive headcanons for each of the guys and little things they do with you <3

Words: about 1.5k (this was supposed to be short, whoops)

Warnings/Info: Can be read separately but it is intended that they all harbor feelings for you at the same time, possibly out of character for everyone, some swearing, the guys manhandle you, as always, let me know if I miss something!

Thinking about how each of the boys is so touchy with you, it doesn't matter where you are or who you're with, they're shameless.

Other units and teams who will sometimes share the base with 141 know better than to ask questions or directly say anything to one of the guys or you for that matter. Not that they could anyway, seeing as you always have at least one of them attached to your hip.

Price:

Anyone who walks into Price's office late at night to turn something in is used to seeing you next to the Captain on the little dingy loveseat he has in there.

John is usually smoking a cigar, taking care to not blow smoke your way while your head is resting on his shoulder. Your eyes closed as you hum at his words. It's terribly domestic for a military base.

John likes to gently play with your hair while he speaks about missions he's been on, always somehow trying to braid despite not knowing how to for jack shit, whether it because it's you or just the mindless motion, he's not willing to say.

John will usually walk you back to your room after dinner or time in his office unless he's swamped with work.

A small hand on the small of your back while he leads you. It's always a respectable touch, though he tucks you into his side, nodding at everyone you may pass.

If you're comfortable with it, he likes to press a kiss to your head, smiling that goofy ass smile, and tells you to get a good night's rest.

He lets you help him trim up his beard, he won't let you do all of it but he likes the closeness of it, him sitting down while you gently shape it up, tilting his head up and he tries his best to not stare directly at your chest.

The fact that he's letting you this close to his neck with a razor is a sign of trust, maybe small for others but for a man that doesn't drop his guard and doesn't truly trust others, it speaks volumes.

The first time he let you, you were barely putting any pressure and he grabbed your hand in his and showed you. "You're not gonna hurt me, put more force into it, yeah?"

Don't get me started on going out on walks in London with Price, he wraps you up in his beanie and some big leather jacket he has that dwarves you, helping you move through crowds by once again holding the small of your back, or taking your smaller hand in his. (He doesn't correct anyone if they mistake you as married)

He likes to kiss the back of your hand and laughs when it makes you blush and sputter out that his beard is scratchy.

Ghost:

Ghost is a subtle one, he won't actively reach for you or your hand but he does have some part of him against you most times.

Whether it be his leg, arm, or thigh, anything works. A normal place yall will be seen together is in the dining hall, you've both learned to ignore the stares from everyone else.

Simon never eats there, just sits with you until you're finished and then you both move on to either his quarters or somewhere else so he can peel his mask up to eat a bit.

However, while you're eating and telling him about anything under the sun, he'll lean over and wipe some crumbs off of your mouth with his thumb softly, which again, you're used to so okay whatever but Recruits always are taken aback in their seats.

Ghost's reflexes kick into overdrive with you. His hand going to cover a corner of a table 9/10 times before you completely wreck your shit, but when he does miss (sometimes on purpose).

He'll bring a hand up to rub at your head for you, chuckling under his breath before cooing down at you "That hurt pretty? Sure look like it did."

Whenever you two specifically are paired onto a mission, doesn't matter if any of the guys complain, he will share a cot/tent with you. He claims he runs the hottest (he doesn't, it's Johnny but he will not lose on this) and can keep your body the warmest.

He pretty much lugs you on top of him and wraps his arms around your waist, he'll press a hand against your head if you keep fidgeting, rasping at you to go to sleep. He takes great pride in the fact that you're usually out like a light very shortly.

I've said it once and I'll say it again, Ghost likes to hook a finger into your body straps and pull it really hard and let it smack you to get your attention if you're not actively paying attention to him, he'll soothe the area but he's smirking behind that fucking mask.

On that note, he definitely does the "You got something right here." And points at your chest and immediately pull up to flick your nose hard as fuck, he KNOWS his own strength but sometimes your eyes water and he immediately feels bad.

Ghost rests his head on your chest a lot, he finds your heartbeat to be soothing and reassuring, also grunts if you don't wrap your arms around him in return, bro literally shoves his head into you and groans

This is a grown man but it's cute so you let it slide bc he'll never ask for it outright, he just assumes you'll cradle his head.

Soap:

Johnny is the most shameless motherfucker here, I'm talking about draping himself over you, grabbing at your cheeks, ruffling your hair, kissing you dangerously close to your lips (it drives the others mad), he's the most unapologetic about it and will gloat to the others.

Manhandler #1, isn't above grabbing you by your hips and picking you up to move you somewhere, he's literally gone and grabbed you from some rookies side to come stand next to him with a smile and you're just so used to it that you just shrug and go along with it. (He gets slightly jealous, why would you stand next to some random ass dude and not him??)

Throws you over his shoulder, or likes you to cling to his front or his back and just carries you, he says it's a comfortable weight. If you ever dare say you're too heavy, he's gonna go to the gym and work out even more to PROVE to you that he simply doesn't care, he will carry you.

Extremely bad habit of sneaking into your room to fall asleep with you, Price has come into your room many times to see Soap sprawled on top of you, he's drooling and snoring and you're knocked the fuck out (he's like a glorified weighted blanket).

I've touched on this before but he only wants you to cut his hair for him, yeah he can go to the barber on base but he much prefers you and loves it when you scratch at his scalp. He also likes to just have his head in between your thighs but that's something else for another time-

Soap specifically slings you over his shoulder a lot, especially off base where he truly doesn't have any fucks to give.

You're not going to bed because you have other work?? Too bad, shoulder time you go. You're not willing to get up and make yourself food? Good thing he's here, either pick what you want from the kitchen or throw some clothes on bc he IS dragging you out of the house.

Johnny likes to draw on you a lot, it ranges from scribbles, to sometimes his name if he's feeling cheeky (he's drawn it on your thigh before and you didn't notice until Gaz shot you a look), to intricate drawings of whatever he can think whether it be a landscape or an animal.

He always holds you steady and it isn't uncommon for your limbs to fall asleep but it's worth it, if only to see him smile.

Gaz:

Gaz is probably the most secretly clingy person out of the four, he CAN function without your touch but does he PREFER to? No.

His first instinct in any situation is to grab you and shield you, he's the fastest of the four so his body moves without thinking and it's saved you more times than any of you would like to count.

The one mission where you both fell out of a moving truck, he tucked your body into his despite it costing him his shoulder popping out of the socket, you couldn't help but freak out while Ghost moved to pop it back into place.

"Why the fuck would you do that? Look at your arm!" "It's nothing." "Garrick what the fuck-"

When you're out anywhere off base, he's holding your hand, good luck trying to pull away bc he is not letting go. Too bad so sad, resign to your fate.

I think Gaz is definitely good at dancing, at least with you and when the right music is on, you cannot tell me this man wouldn't twirl you around and shit-fight me on it. He'll even lift you off your feet, laughing when you scramble to grab at his shoulders.

He goes stark still if you rest your head on his shoulder, not because he's nervous but because he's worried about waking you up when he knows you deserve a rest.

He'll usually wrap his arm around your shoulder to hold you in place so the heli ride doesn't jostle you so much, gentleness rubbing his knuckles along your arm to soothe you.

Gaz is the one who holds you when you have nightmares, on rare occasions when Soap isn't in your room and you just need to be held with no talking, you always without thinking find yourself in Kyle's room, his arms wrapped around your waist as he tucks your head under his chin, no questions asked.

He'll maybe hum a tune to help you relax but other than that, he lets you lead the way.

[lolastrniolo]

JUST FRIENDS - M.S.

summary: matt has had a crush on you for a long time, and has been having a hard time keeping it in his pants.

contains: smut, oral (f/m!receiving), fingering, mommy kink, virgin!bsf!matt, sub!matt, soft!dom!reader, innocence corruption

wc: 2.6k

a/n: first language is not english. also: my first fic ever, don’t expect too much. <3

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

you quietly walk into the kitchen, matt is sat at the dinner table with his back turned to you. “hi there”. he jumps a bit at your words and quickly shuts off his phone, a guilty expression on his face. “oh, hi. I uh… didn’t know you were here.”

“nick didn’t tell you? I slept in his room last night.” you say as you sit down in the chair next to him, pulling your knees up to your chest. “so, you gonna tell me what you were watching?” a smirk playing at your lips as you point at his phone.

ever since you became friends with the triplets, matt has had a crush on you. he thinks you don’t notice, but you do. you notice every quick glance he gives you, every time he adjusts his pants when you touch him, every time he licks his lips when you walk into the room. you can’t lie, you always thought he was the hottest out of the three brothers. you liked his innocence, his shy demeanor, and his slightly awkward persona.

“nothing. just, you know. checking the socials…” he replies, obviously blushing. now, he wasn’t exactly lying, he was checking the socials. yours, to be specific. he had been looking at his favorite picture of you, the only bikini picture on your profile. it had been in his saved collection ever since you posted it, he had touched himself countless of times while looking at the photo, imagining how it would feel to have your pretty tits pressed against his face.

his heart rate quickens, unable to take his eyes off of the tight pajama top you were currently wearing. he loved the way your nipples poked through, making him shift in his seat. of course you weren’t wearing a bra, you just got out of bed.

“so, how’ve you been? we haven’t talked in a while.” your voice sends shivers down his spine, and he’s having a hard time focusing on the conversation. “i-i’m good, you know… just the usual. you?” he asks, an awkward smile on his face. “yeah, i’m fine…” a deep sigh leaving your lips, ‘just been a bit, uh… how do i say this?’ you let out an awkward laugh, looking down at your lap and fiddling with the hem of your pajama shorts. “frustrated…” you continue, hoping he picks up on what you’re trying to say.

his eyes flick down to your lips briefly before snapping back to your eyes. “frustrated, how?” he asks, his brows furrowed, genuinely curious. of course he didn’t understand, his innocence getting the best of him. “well, you know… sexually.” you finally look back up at him, his face gets more red and his eyes widen. “oh…” his throat goes dry, his pulse quickening at your admission. his mind races as he thinks of all the ways to relieve your stress, the bulge in his pants slowly growing. ”sorry, I didn't mean to make things awkward” you say, a soft smile on your lips.

he shifts in his seat, trying to maintain his composure. his voice cracks slightly as he speaks, his eyes darting to your chest once again before looking back up to meet your eyes. “no, no, it’s fine…” his hands tremble slightly as he runs them through his hair. “It's just… you’re making it really hard for me to…” he trails off, an awkward chuckle leaving his lips. he swallows hard as he looks down at his lap, his erection becoming more and more obvious. “fuck…”

“what is it? are you okay?” you gently put your hand on his leg, matt immediately jumps at your touch. your eyes shift down to his laps and your eyes widen, realizing his problem. you quickly take your hand away, “shit, sorry… did i- did i do that?” he shoots up from his seat, his hands trembling as he adjusts his painfully hard cock in his pants. “it’s not your fault, i just… fuck, i can’t sit down right now.” he paces back and forth, his right hand running through his hair, the other on his hip.

“can I like… help you out?” you ask him. he didn’t expect your bold question, his jaw clenches as he tries to maintain control. “you don’t need to… I mean, you shouldn’t. but fuck, I really want you to…” he can’t take his eyes off your lips anymore, desperately wanting to kiss you.

you stand up from your chair, getting closer to him. you rest your right hand on his chest, the other coming down to grab his hand. you feel him shiver under your touch, his eyes focused solely on your lips. “only if you want to though…” his words come out in a whisper, his chest rising and falling with every breath he takes. “i do want to, you know how i know?” there’s a teasing tone to your words, matt has a confused look on his face as he shakes his head. you slowly guide his hand down to your heat, letting his fingers run over your wet panties, shorts to the side. “feel that? that’s how i know i want to.” your lips are next to his ear, whispering.

his eyes roll back as he feels your warmth through your panties. he let’s out a choked moan, his free hand reaching out to grab your waist. “shit, you’re soaked… but we can’t. we’re friends, right? friends don’t…’’ he presses his face into your neck, breathing in your scent. “right… but friends don’t get this wet for each other, hm?” you reach out and pam him over his sweats, to which he responds with a whimper. “just let me help you out, matt.”

his mind goes blank, his body taking over. he pulls his head back from your neck and crashes his lips onto yours, hands now gripping at your waist. you moan into the kiss, your own hands tugging at the hair on the back of his neck. “touch me, please…” he pants, his eyes filled with lust, hips grinding against yours. “shhh, sit down for me.” you whisper against his lips before gently pushing him down on the chair, hands on his shoulders. his eyes are locked onto yours, completely mesmerized by your beauty.

you kneel down in front of him, keeping eye contact as you do so. you slowly start taking off his sweats, on which a wet patch had formed. you let them pool at his ankles before teasingly tucking your fingers into the waistband of his boxers. “please, i can’t…” he throws his head back, desperate for some sort of relief. you let out a light chuckle, totally loving the desperation in his voice. you slowly start pulling his boxers down, until they meet his sweatpants on the floor. his cock is rock hard, begging to be touched.

you slowly wrap your fingers around his cock, his hips immediately bucking up into your hand as he lets out a choked moan. “a-ah!” he can’t help but let his fingers get tangled in your hair. you slowly start pumping his length, rubbing your thumb over his swollen tip, which was leaking with pre-cum. strings of moans and whimpers leave his lips, his hair now stuck to his sweaty forehead.

“please, just…” he begs, brows furrowed. “tell me, matt. what do you want?” you know exactly what he wants, to be fairly honest, you just want to hear the words leave is pretty lips. “it’s embarrassing..” he can’t even look you in the eyes, your hand still slowly pumping his length. “gonna need words, baby” he groans at the nickname, “just… use your… your m-mouth”

“good boy.” you finally lower your head and wrap your lips around his head, gently sucking on it. he lets out loud moans, not even trying to keep it in. luckily, chris and nick had some meeting today, so matt knew there was no reason to be quiet, and you definitely weren’t planning on shutting him up.

his grip on your hair tightens, gently pushing your head down. “is that okay?” he asks, careful not to hurt you. you moan around his dick as a response, and he hesitatingly starts fucking your throat. when he notices how well you take it, he gets a bit more rough, bucking his hips up into your face until your nose touches his pelvis. his head is thrown back, completely overwhelmed by the pleasure he’s experiencing.

“fuck, fuck, fuck…” he pants, “i’m gonna-” he doesn’t get to finish his sentence, thick ropes of white cum shoot into the back of your throat as he comes undone. he watches you as you swallow every last drop, his jaw practically on the floor. he had imagined a scenario like this thousands of times - getting sucked off by a woman - but never could he have guessed it would feel this good. “that was… wow”

“quick?” you chuckle at him a little before straddling his lap, kissing him deeply and letting him taste his own release on your tongue. you grind against him, trying to relieve some tension. “i need you, matt…” you whisper against his lips. “you need it now?” he asks, hands resting on your hips. “fuck, yes.” you moan. he quickly grabs your legs and lifts you up on the kitchen table. “you’re perfect.” he says, his voice hoarse as he spreads your legs slightly.

“matt” you moan, hands flying to the back of his neck as you crash your lips onto his again. his hands grip at your waist as he moans into the kiss, hips grinding into you. you break the kiss to start leaving trails of kisses down his neck, lightly sucking here and there. soft whines and moans leave his lips as you kiss him, his grip on your waist tightening.

you pull back to look him in the eyes, he has a desperate look on his face, eyebrows furrowed, eyes hanging low. he hooks his fingers into your shorts and panties, “please? can i?” he asks. you know matt is a virgin and has absolutely no clue what he’s doing, but honestly, the thought might be turning you on even more. “yes, matt, fuck…” you connect your lips to his again as he starts slowly taking off your shorts and panties, finally letting them drop to the floor. he disconnect his lips from yours as his eyes travel down your body, finally stopping at your dripping pussy. “you’re so pretty…” he can’t believe his eyes, he’s never had a woman like this in front of him. and it’s not just any woman, it’s you. the girl he’s had a crush on for years.

his left hand comes up to your chest, gently massaging. the other hand traces your wet slit, he then starts slowly tracing circles on your clit. “mph, fuck!” you arch your back into him, throwing your head back. matt slides his middle finger into you with ease, thanks to how wet he made you. a loud moan escapes your lips as he curls his finger inside you. matt’s eyes are focused on the way his finger glides in and out of your entrance, like he’s making sure he’s doing it right.

he adds another finger, “is this okay?” he asks, eyes drifting back up to your face. “yes, don’t stop… feels so- ah! feels so good…” your right hand is on his shoulder, your left hand propped behind you on the table to hold yourself up. “get on your knees for me, okay baby?” matt doesn’t need to be told twice, immediately dropping to his knees in front of you, his face now aligned with your heat. he looks up at you with lust-filled eyes, his fingers still buried deep inside you. “use your mouth baby, can you do that for me?”

“mmm” he starts slowly lapping at your clit, you can feel he’s not confident with his moves, but as soon as your hand flies to his hair and your moans get louder, his confidence increases, and so does the speed of his tongue and fingers. “like this?” his eyes are fixed on your face, studying your expressions as he sucks on your clit.

“fuck! yes, keep doing that… feels so good- don’t stop” you grind your hips into his face as you moan his name over and over, “matt, matt, matt…” every time you tighten your grip on his hair, his moans grow louder. his arms are wrapped around your thighs as he tries to pulls you even closer, desperate to make you cum. he lets out soft moans and whimpers as he works on your pussy, you can tell he loves giving just as much as you love receiving. “shit, matt… i’m so close- don’t fucking stop.”

matt doubles his efforts when he feels you clench around him, his fingers going even faster and his lips sucking even harder on your clit. he’s surprisingly good at this, considering he’s a virgin, you think to yourself. he moans loudly, the vibrations pushing you closer to the edge. “please, wanna make you finish…” he whispers in-between moans.

his words finally send you over the edge, strings of moans leaving your lips as you release all over his face and fingers. but matt doesn’t back away, in fact, he buries his face even deeper between your thighs. he continues to finger-fuck you, his moans muffled against your folds. “again…” he pants, his fingers pumping faster. “wanna make you cum again…”

“fuck, matt… good boy…” he lets out a loud whimper at the pet name. “can i…” he starts, “can i call you mommy?” you see his face heat up with embarrassment as he continues lapping at your folds, fingers still working inside you. you nod your head frantically, there’s nothing you loved more than a guy calling you mommy. especially because most men just wanted to be dominant in bed, so when a pretty boy like matt wanted to call you mommy, you couldn’t be more excited.

“mommy, please…” he pants in between licks, desperate to make you finish on his tongue again. “holy shit, don’t- don’t stop… doing so good for me.” matt loved being praised, loved hearing how good he made you feel. your eyes are locked on his, watching his pretty face between your legs as he does his absolute best to get you to the edge again. “i’m so close, shit!” matt picks up his pace and lets out a loud moan, never taking his eyes off yours.

you reach your high for the second time that day, your grip on his hair now painfully tight. matt smiles at you as you come down from your high, standing up on his feet again. “was that okay?” he innocently asks you, before sucking all of your juices off his fingers while looking directly into your eyes. you swear that sight alone could have made you cum a third time. you don’t respond to his question, you just kiss him deeply, tasting your own juices on his tongue. you both moan into the kiss before pulling back to look at each other, panting heavily, shocked from what just happened. “more than okay” you reassure him, “no guy has ever made me cum twice in a row like that”

he looks at you with a shy smile, his hands resting on your thighs. “i really liked that”, he confesses, a light chuckle leaving his lips as he drops his head on your shoulder. “me too, baby” you say as you let your hands roam through his hair.

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hope this was kinda okay, not sure i’ll ever do this again 🤷🏻‍♀️ lmk if y’all want a part 2 and i might consider

update: tysm for all the likes & reposts, didn’t expect this to do well at all 🤭

TAGLIST

[mv1simp]

for the bully!Max, Leclerc!Reader and chubby!reader simps in my requests…I heard you and I’m here to deliver 😼😼 enjoy!!

You Belong To Me ♥️

Bully!Max Verstappen x Chubby!Leclerc!Reader

say it louder, say it louder, who’s gonna love you like me (who’s gonna fuck you like me?)

Growing up as the youngest daughter in the Leclerc family, you’d had a childhood crush on your brother’s rival and friend, Max. But when you grew older he turned into your worst nightmare, always bullying you. You’ve been able to avoid him for the last 5 years - but now with your new engineer job on the paddock, you can’t hide from Max any longer…and can’t stop the feelings you still have for him.

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, size kink, dom/sub, dark! Max who bullies innocent virgin!reader, dub con, brainwashing, bimbofication, somno, yk all the good shit, WC 9k 😨

You shiver as you walk into your family’s childhood vacation home along the Cote de Azure, despite the summer heat. It’s been a long time since you’d visited this house. Even though your Mama and three older brothers came by often, looking for a weekend break from their busy lives or a romantic getaway with gorgeous girlfriends, you’d always turn down their offers to join once you were in college. They'd always be confused at your hesitance - but then again, they don't know just how many bittersweet memories this home holds for you. You’d grown up here in the summers, the youngest daughter of the famous Monegasque Leclerc family. Racing was in your bloodline, and your beloved Papa had instilled his passion into all of his children before he’d passed away.

Your older brothers, who were all handsome, tall and athletic, made natural drivers right from childhood and easily progressed through the karting competitions. Meanwhile, you were the youngest and the only daughter, and were raised in a far gentler manner as the apple of your family’s eye, their cute bunny as they’d nicknamed you, after your favourite childhood pet. In comparison to your brothers who ran around outdoors, you were more shy, preferring to be left with your books and colouring pencils in the safety of the patio.

Of course, with all your differences, there had been the healthy sibling rivalry of brothers vs sister growing up. They hated being forced to play house or pose for your scribbly drawings (not Arthur though - even at age 5 you were convinced he secretly loved when you made him join the Barbie tea party.) And in turn, you'd alway complain when you’d be dragged to cheer on Charles from the sidelines as he won his karting competitions. You would sulk, childishly annoyed at your parent’s attention shifting from you to their middle son’s rapidly growing racing career.

But it all changed when Charles raced against Max Verstappen for the first time at age 11. The blonde Dutchman aggravated your competitive older brother immediately with his aggressive driving tactics. You’d heard Cha, as you’d been calling him since you were little, furiously ranting about the illegal moves Max had been pulling and your 7 year old brain tuned it all out. But when you first saw the mysterious blonde in question, your heart fluttered with a feeling you’d never felt before and a bright blush overtook your chubby cheeks.

You immediately became infatuated with the older boy, who was far nicer to you than Charles had been back then. Your middle brother's idea of “sibling time” involving hiding beetles in your bed and laughing when you screamed. So it became a common sight to see you wandering after Max instead of being by your family’s side, tugging on his shirt sleeve and showing him the racecar drawings you’d made. Max always entertained you, ruffing your hair and smiling back toothily, telling you that you were a much better artist than his little sis Victoria.

You’d beam from the praise, only leaving Max’s side when his scary father Jos would approach and eye you with disdain. You scampered back to your family, to your older brothers who accused you of the worst crime imaginable to the loyal Leclerc blood - exchanging racing strategies with the enemy Dutch. Your mother had hit all three sons on the back of the head and told them they could learn a thing or two about treating Bunny with respect like that cute boy Max did.

As you grew older, your pigtails were replaced with cute pins and headbands in an effort to look pretty whenever Max would come around to your summer home. By now, his rivalry with Charles had turned into a reluctant "frenemies who also spent summers together to discuss racing". You'd get to be with Max all day, swimming in the turquoise ocean and eating sweet stroopwafel that he always brought. An in the evenings, the two car-obsessed 14 year olds would be arguing about overtaking strategies at your family’s dining table. You’d pout, childishly wanting attention at age 11, interrupting whatever stupid point you're sure Charles was making to bat your eyelashes at your guest. Holding up your now detailed drawings of a black kart, you asked Maxie - as you’d taken to calling him - if he liked your recreation of his.

He’d grinned at you, still boyishly handsome and in the lanky phase of growing up as he told you he loved it, should he sign his autograph on it? with that Dutch accent you adored. Charles watched your shenanigans with a roll of his eyes, snidely muttering (in French, thank god) that the annoying little bunny wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding her crush on the enemy Dutch. You flushed, frantically checking to make sure Max hadn’t been able to understand, and had run off with a red face to tearfully rat him out to your Mama. Unlike Charles, she found your crush on Max rather cute, and always encouraged you to give your favourite ribbons and bows to Max for a good luck charm the way you did with your brothers pre-race (Traitor, teen Arthur and Charles mouthed at you).

She eyed you knowingly when you do your best to avoid blushing as you grew older still, this time seeing Max when you were 14 and him 17 with an impressive winning streak in the Junior Redbull team. He’d started to develop into his tall 6 foot frame now, towering over your tiny 5”2 frame like your brothers did. What, no drawing of a racecar for me to sign Bunny? he gently teased, leaning down so you could shyly kiss both of his cheeks - a Monegasque tradition Max had become accustomed to from your family. You stuttered out your no, of course not, you were too old for that now! making him laugh at how cute you looked before walking off. Arthur watches the exchange with a smirk, elbowing Cha when he emerges from the changing rooms. Your middle brother’s frenemy status with Max was more of a friendship these days, and his earlier accusations of you being a traitor had turned into something much more annoying. Max and Bunny, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G-

But by the time you turned 16, your Maxie changed from the sweet, laughing boy you’d always trusted into someone darker, someone who you felt scared of at times. You were at the age where you now wanted Max as your boyfriend, naively thinking that the 19 year old driver would return your affections when he’d attended your Sweet 16th. You’d spent hours getting ready, styling your long curly hair and wearing a cute dress all your friends had insisted you would be irresistible in (but had almost given your older brothers an aneurysm). It was tight and short, and although you'd always been a chubby kid, you feel a self conscious of the new plush curves around your hips and chest, in comparison to your older brothers who now looked very handsome and muscular.

You’d lit up when you saw Max across the fancy yacht club, flooded with all your schoolmates and family friends who’d come to celebrate the baby Leclerc’s birthday. He'd looked so handsome, his muscular frame now filled out and catching the eye of many girls. There was a devilishness in his smile that came with the confidence of being the youngest F1 driver in history. Lately, your innocent crush had started to drift towards naughtier, dirtier fantasies about what Max’s large hands and lips would feel like on you, if he snuck into your bedroom in the middle of the night and told you he loved you as you willingly gave him your first kiss.

But all your naive hopes come crashing down when you see a slim, sexy blonde approach Max where he’s talking to Charles intently, drinking a beer. His hand squeezes her ass in a familiar motion as she wraps her arms around him, leaning up to give him a kiss. You quickly turn around in the crowd before you can be seen, heartbroken, and drown yourself in blurred conversations and slices of birthday cake. Max doesn’t even come to wish you happy birthday like he normally did, always with a special gift in hand. At some point in the night you’re talking to Charles and try to subtly ask who that blonde girl with Max had been. Your older brother gives you an amused look, asking if you still had your silly little childhood crush on Max? You adamantly deny it, and he smirks and tells you that was Giana, Max’s girlfriend and an Italian model. You’re upset, of course, but thankfully he changes the topic to tell you how Max had recommended his old F2 seat go to Charles, wasn’t that amazing Bunny? You nod mutedly, having become used to Cha being less and less aware of anything that went on outside his racing career these days.

After a sneaky shot of tequila your friend gave you, you have the courage to go approach Max. His girlfriend is still at his side and raises an eyebrow, pointedly glancing down at your figure to make it clear what she thought of your curvier body. What shocks you, though, is seeing an annoyed look on Max’s face as well, as he demands to know why you’re interrupting, couldn’t you see he was busy? You’ve never heard him speak like that and are confused, asking him why he’s being so mean, did I do something wrong, Max-

He cuts you off, smirking as he asks why you weren’t calling him Maxie anymore. The girl laughs at that, saying no way, she’s such a kid, she calls you that? A few of your older schoolmates have wandered over, curious to see what was going on and you flush from the embarrassment of having Max treat you like this in front of your friends.

From then on, Max just became crueler and crueler to you. It’s like he enjoyed seeing how you'd react, your cute chubby cheeks darkening with embarrassment as you avoided his gaze. Once he'd officially moved to Monaco, you ran into him everywhere as him and Charles formed a close friendship and would often hang out. Max would always time his harsh remarks just when your brother wasn't in earshot. He'd mock you about everything, from your childish appearance, to your innocently conservative outfits, your nerdy perfect grades, your animated Italian gestures and accent which he'd always seemed to adore growing up. Your popularity in school plummeted as your friends watched the talented F1 driver roll his eyes and mutter how pathethic you were when he heard you were reading romantic novels on Friday night instead of partying, saying the only reason you had any friends was because of your talented brother’s fame. Your family had no idea what was going on - as Max’s bullying started the same time your Papa becomes unwell and landed in hospital. Your brothers thought the change in your sweet demeanour was because of your sadness for your father.

If only they knew the real culprit was right under their noses.

It seemed there was nothing teen Max enjoyed more than seeing your big brown doe eyes welling up with tears. He’d use everything you told him growing up against you, making gossip and rumours fly around your school constantly. Any guy who tried to talk to you was assumed to be doing it as a dare. The first few years of high school had been like hell - the only thing making it bearable being your perfect grades and promising future. Unlike your older brothers who were natural sportsmen, you were the opposite and excelled at academics, and you’d used it to get a full ride scholarship at a prestigious engineering course in the UK.

That’s what you reminded yourself to get you through a graduation party at the end of high school. You'd been reluctantly dragged by the small group of friends you’d thankfully kept despite all the bullying and rumours. In true Monaco trust fund kid fashion, the party was hosted on one of your schoolmates' yacht, with many juniors and older siblings tagging along as well. Towards the end of high school, Max’s bullying was less common as he became busier with his racing - something Charles had become fully invested in with his new F1 Alfa Romeo seat. And you’d grown up, too, maturing into your curves and pretty dark Italian features, catching the eye of a few boys in your year.

It seemed you’d been briefly relieved of your duties of being a social pariah when you're yanked into a circle of already wasted partygoers playing 7 minutes in heaven. But when your friend pulled out your name with a drunken flush, you could only widen your eyes in horror when the next name she announces was one you'd never expected - Max.

And then you see him, on the other side of the deck, leaning against the railing and ignoring the girls trying to speak to him as his ice blue eyes intently watch you. You squeaked out your protests, begging your friend to try again, but it's hopeless when the circle begins chanting your name and Max’s. Giving up, you turned around and ran through the crowd, trying to reach the ramp and get off the boat -

-when a large, warm hand wrapped around your waist and easily pulled you into a broad chest. Before you knew it, you're in a tiny, dark storage room, with Max Verstappen blocking the door and smirking down at you. Your naive heart still ached with conflicting feelings for Max, who was your childhood knight in shining armour, who always stood up for you when your older brothers ganged up on you, always knew how to make you laugh when you were crying from their teasing. But this was also the same Max who made your high school life hell, had teased you mercilessly behind your brother’s back, and used all the secrets you'd trusted him with against you. He'd make you look like a childish little girl in front of your effortlessly cool, rich peers. This reminder brought you back to your senses and you quietly but firmly ask him to let me out.

He hadn’t let you leave, of course, instead leaning down until he was whispering in your ear with his deep voice that still send shivers down your spine, mockingly asking if you’d had your first kiss yet or if you're still the same stuck up Leclerc who thinks she's too good to be fucked by anyone here?

Heart racing furiously from nervousness, you mumble out that you hadn’t had your first kiss, avoiding his ice cold eyes as he chuckled. You know his game well enough by now to understand he wouldn’t let you go until he gets his answer. You hated the boy you once hoped to give your first kiss to. He’d ruined your reputation beyond repair, had made it so no guy at school would touch you even if they found you pretty.

Well, apparently except for one boy.

Turns out Max himself had no issues laying his hands on you, hidden in the darkness of the storeroom. His hands had pushed you up against the wall, your face cutely scrunched up in confusion, and then your jaw almost dropped in shock when he pressed his lips to your ear. He huskily whispered how pretty you looked, how he’d hated the way boys had been checking you out all night. They didn’t know you’d already promised to marry Max when you were little, yeah Bunny?

And then he’d captured the surprised gasp you let out, shocked that he’d remembered your childhood wish to be his vrouw, his wife, when he leans down to press a surprisingly gentle kiss against your soft lips. When he pulled back, his face remaining close to yours, your brown doe eyes looked into his with whirling confusion and hurt - but also desire flickering in them. And then you’d both gotten lost in another kiss, then another, and then Max being Max had starting running his hands all over your body. Squeezing his hand into your juicy ass to make you shyly moan, and then greedily slipping his tongue inside.

That’s how everyone had found you when they yanked the door open, with Max having you moaning his name, one hand sliding up your skirt and the other running over your tits. The darkness in his gaze returns as he pulled back and left you leaning against the wall with wobbly legs. He laughed as he strode off the party, saying it’d been so easy to get you to beg for him like a little slut, who would’ve guessed with your innocent appearance?

You couldn’t wait to graduate high school and go to university after that. And it had been amazing, moving far away from Monte Carlo. No one knew who you were or how deep your history with world famous athletes like Charles or Max went. You reinvented yourself, becoming confident after months of therapy and your intelligence becoming something you were admired for instead of teased. You’d though that was the end of it, that you’d never have to be humiliated or have your heart broken by Max Verstappen again. Until 5 years later when you got a call from Lorenzo asking you to come home.

With the intimate engagement party of your oldest brother being held at your family’s scenic vacation home, you’d been unable to refuse. You knew Max was going to be there, but you’d taken a deep breath and reminded yourself that things were different now. You were 22, a qualified engineer and had used your own hard work to get a job within the Alpine garage - even using your mother’s maiden name as your last name because you wanted to prove it was because of your skill, not connections. Charles had been bewildered, begging you to please come work at Ferrari, bebe but you’d been adamant about needing to prove your own worth. You loved your family, and were so happy for Cha’s success as your relationship with your brothers blossomed into a close, loyal one as adults. It had always been your father’s dream to see him in the red suit. It was unbelievable to have millions of Tifosi literally worship your older brother - and their adoration extended to you, his sweet younger sister Bunny. You make rare appearances on the paddock but were hailed as a good luck charm when you did, Tifosi cheering when you affectionally kiss your brother on both cheeks and tie a hair ribbon to his suit. You always made sure to stay well away from the Redbull garage.

And you’d become radiant in your beauty, too, in pretty, flattering dresses and fitted miniskirts that showed off your soft stomach and thighs, your generous cleavage and juicy ass. Full, lush lips and long dark curls framed your sweetheart face and you’d been finally been able to put makeup on without fear of being mocked. A few guys had tried to ask you out in college, but you hadn’t been quite there yet in your confidence to say yes. Max had seemed to put you off all men, for now at least….and your protective Italian brothers seemed to make it their personal mission to protect your honour and integrity. Very dramatic, you’d said to them with a fond roll of your eyes, secretly enjoying how they cared for you despite their luxurious celebrity lifestyles. So you’d ended up still being a virgin at your college graduation, wanting to save it for the man you fell in love with.

You reminded yourself of all that you had to offer, of how you weren’t the same nerdy little girl who was going to be bullied, when you heard Max would be joining your family prior to the engagement party. The night before he was meant to arrive, you’d been overthinking and anxiously wringing your fingers so hard that your whole family had started demanding to know what was troubling you. After giving them some weak excuse about being worried about your new job, you'd gone to read one of your romance novels by the pool after dinner to destress. You had ended up falling asleep under the stars, your tired mind eager to rest.

You didn’t know the man you were desperately hoping to avoid had landed a night earlier with his private jet. When he’d greeted your middle brother late in the night, saying he would crash for now and greet everyone properly in the morning when they were awake, Charles had gone to bed and the last remaining light of the house switched off. Only the silver moonlight illuminated your pretty face and unsuspecting figure when Max Verstappen stepped outside his bedroom's French doors, hoping to cool off - but instead felt his blood pumping heatedly at the sight of you.

Honestly, he hadn't expected to see you for years as you'd understandably fled to the other side of the continent the second you had the change to escape. You’d turned from a nervous, cute schoolgirl into a gorgeous woman, and his intense gaze hungrily roams over your peaceful sleeping body. He was going to ruin you, he thinks wickedly, gently stroking your still chubby cheeks that subconsciously leaned into his touch.

He decided to give you one last night of quiet as he left you in deep sleep, walking back inside with dark desire brewing. The childish bully he’d been as an angry teen, desperate to prove himself, was gone. He was now a thrice proven world champion, a millionaire, a man who’d been with dozens of women but found only one he still wanted through it all. And it was none other than his racing rival's sweet younger sister, the one who'd stayed loyal to him since she was little. He was ready to make you his, whether you still wanted him or not.

When you finally saw him at breakfast the next morning you had been suspicious at his pleasant behaviour, greeting you like he would any family friend and asking how college had treated you. Your whole body had gone stiff, eyes distrustfully following his every move. You’d been forced to respond back politely as your family watched you, your mum still grinning as she rooted for her daughter to become romantically involved with her childhood crush. If only your family knew how much Max tormented you, they’d never let him get within 10km of you again. But to your surprise, Max kept up his kind manner even when your family would be out of the room, laughing and smiling easily at you and somehow bringing confusing butterflies back to swirl in your stomach. After the week he'd spent at your vacation home, you'd naively started to think maybe he had changed. Maybe the five years away had made him mature into the charming, funny driver you'd seen in numerous interviews and ads, being unable to avoid his far reaching fame.

But it turned out his respectful behaviour, all through the engagement celebrations and the after party, only served as a ploy to get you to foolishly lower your guard. Max had greedily collected up all the information he’d missed over the years, about what your likes and dislikes were now, about how you’d gotten a job with your own means at the F1 paddock. And then he casually informed you over dinner that he’d spoken to Horner who was coincidentally looking for a mechanical engineer - and had wanted to interview you after seeing your resume. Your family had been ecstatic at a job for you in a prestigious garage, despite their blood thirsty Ferrari loyalty. Even Cha had caught you after dinner, telling you that it was thoughtful of Max to look out for you, that as your big brother he’d feel so much better if you were working in a winning team’s garage and being protected by Max, instead of alone in a poorly performing team.

You were so confused, couldn’t understand why Max was trying to get involved - and you told him so that night, hushed angry whispers in the hallway after everyone had gone to bed. He’d smirked, leaning down to press you into the wall, saying Wasn’t it obvious Bunny? I want you.

Your eyes widened in shock, and you stammered out your confusions, asking him why he would say such a thing, only to feel his lips brushing your ear. His deep voice murmured his explanation of how his father didn't think Max had been focused enough when he was younger, had wanted him to throw all distractions to the side...including you. I'm a three time world champion now, Max said with a cocky grin. It doesn't matter what he says anymore, I do what I want.

Although his initial words about how the change in his behaviour being due to his controlling father sent a pang of empathy through you, you hadn't come this far to just give in. You pushed him off you with all your might, only being able to get a couple of inches as you glared and said you're delusional, Max, if you think I'd ever forgive you. Much less want you back after the hell you put me through. Storming off, you naively thought that was the end of it, that Max would back off once he saw you weren't the same lovesick girl he could toy with anymore. Not gonna call me Maxie anymore? he teases at your retreating back.

You should have known Max always got what he wanted, because he finds his way into your bedroom later that night. It was stupid to not lock your room because you think he wouldn't lay a hand on you when under the same roof as your brothers. Softly closing the door behind him, Max's dark gaze took in your curvy, sleeping figure in your childhood room. It was still decorated with your younger self's belongings as your Mama had always wanted you to feel welcome - but you had never come back after graduating. So you slept against a large plushie Bunny, cutely dressed in a pink matching shorts and camisole set. The twisted desire to corrupt the sleeping beauty in front of him rushes to Max's head - and his hardening cock- and he doesn't hesitate to slowly run his large palms over your body. He teasingly slides one hand up your sheer camisole to graze your large tits and the other down your shorts, to lightly toy with your pussy through cotton panties. The sweet dream you'd been having started to turn into a dirty one from the stimulation, and you instinctively grind back against the warm, hard body pressed into your back as you moan sleepily.Your dream is getting more and more heated as Max plays with your sensitive body, and only when you’re starting to drench your panties with slick do your eyes hazily blink open. Your adorably confused expression turns him on even more as he captures your gasp in his mouth, using his tongue to explore the inside of your mouth. Soon he has your panties pulled to one side and his thick finger sliding into your dripping folds. Your muffled protests have started slipping into confused moans, and he doesn't need to keep you silent any longer as start kissing him back when your body's frustrated needs take over your mind's denials. Max looks down on your face, memorising how pretty your wide brown eyes looked as you teared up, and he whispers filthy things in your ear to send you off the edge and spiralling into your first orgasm. You're so sensitive, bunny, you’re still a virgin aren’t you? Saved yourself just for me like a good girl, hmm?

You’d silently cried into your plush toy as you buried your flushed face into it, feeling lost in the overwhelming pleasure that you knew you shouldn't be feeling, that was wrong but felt so right. Drool stained your poor bunny plush as you bit down on it to muffle your scream of Maxie as waves of satisfaction rolled over you. You'd fallen back into a deep sleep after the overwhelming stimulation, distantly feeling Max's lips press a goodnight kiss to your tear stained cheeks. And when you awoke in the morning, you almost thought you'd imagined up the whole thing, a particularly naughty wet dream, but when you found that your panties were missing underneath your cute pajama shorts you knew there was only one person who would have taken them with him.

You didn’t even get a chance to confront him because you find out the very same day that Max had gotten his lawyer to cancel your Alpine contract and have Redbull send you a new one, complete with a generous signing bonus that anyone would be a fool to refuse. With your family watching you expectantly, you knew it would be too hard to explain your way out of this. So you reluctantly signed the 1 year contract, telling yourself it was only a temporary problem, that you would surely be hiding out the back of the garage and in the workshops, well away from your childhood bully.

That’s all Max needed to get you alone, to start his corruption of you, his favourite Leclerc sibling. Right from your first day, he’d welcomed you with a firm hug, his swollen biceps pressing you against his broad chest, squeezing your plump ass and making you squeal - but striding off before you could say anything. Or coming up behind you when you were bent over, tinkering on something, and making sure you could feel his impressive semi against your covered slit. You'd always desperately try to move away, anxious someone would see - but you stood no chance against the adult Max's strength when he tightened his grip around your thick hips and grinded himself on your jiggling ass.

He still teased you, sure, but now it came off as harmless flirting, steeped into your childhood friendship. And conflicting feelings swirled in your chest when you saw the lucky ribbon you’d gifting him as a kid somehow still tied to his seat, an ever present good luck charm. Everyone else would smile at you two encouragingly, saying you looked so sweet together, where you secretly a couple? No one seemed to share your nervousness around Redbull's champion driver, or pick up on the undertone of darkness in his intense gaze when he looked at you.

Soon he has you travelling exclusively with him, staying in all the same hotels, under the guise of being his personal mechanic for any last minute corrections. Charles loved it, saying this way Max could always keep a close eye on you when you were away from home. If only your overprotective brother knew he was sending his little sister right into the den of the lion. And the so called Dutch Lion was no longer holding himself back from taking your sweet innocence all for himself.

You'd always belonged to him, after all.

It first started when he’d gotten absolutely furious seeing you at a race afterparty in Miami, giggling cutely in a pretty minidress with an engineer you’d started to flirt with at work. Max had all but dragged you to his private booth, tossing you over his strong shoulder when you tried to stand your ground and stand firmly in your strappy high heels. He kicked all the models and B list celebrities trying to leech out of the dimly lit room, pushing your head down till you were staring up at him, your pretty face bathed in the red neon lights as you anxiously bite your glossed lip.

If you wanted to get fucked so bad, he growled deeply, unbuckling his belt and making your eyes go wide with fear as the biggest cock you’d ever seen emerges, you can just beg for it nicely like the good little slut you are, hmm? You’re sniffling, tears emerging in your wide doe eyes as you beg him please Maxie, please don't do this, I promise I’ll stop-

But he doesn’t listen to one pleading word, his twisted mind obsessed with one thing and one thing only - making the pure Leclerc sweetheart gag and choke on his mean cock. You knew better than to get in the way of what Max wanted, because he always ended up getting it. Instead you let your mind go blank, letting the guilty pleasure cloud your senses to ignore the reality of how mean Max was being, your pliant mouth dropping open as you let him ruin your throat. There isn’t a glimmer of his childhood sweetness in his dark, icy blue eyes as he memorizes the hypnotising sight of your chubby cheeks slurping at raging erection, the tears falling down your face at performing your first blowjob on your knees at a nightclub just making him impossibly harder. He groans as your sweet mouth slurps on his warm length, continuing to whisper his filthy promises to punish you and slipping into dutch as he climaxed. Fuck, fuck, erg lekker, so fucking good- He made sure your crying cheeks was pressed right into his tense abs when he finally emptied his load inside you, panting heavily from how good your heavenly tongue felt. He didn’t move until you followed his instructions and tried to swallow every drop. Your inexperienced mouth struggled, half of his sticky cum leaking out the corners of your mouth. He tutted mockingly, smearing his release all over your swollen lips with his thumb and saying he’d have to give your throat so much more training so it knew how to suck a cock, hmm?

Your cheeks burned with humiliation at failing to please him properly, even though he was practically forcing you to deepthroat him. The next day, when you woke up with no voice, you’d had to pretend you had a cold when seeing Cha for brunch the next morning.

And when he’d have a bad qualifying, he’d easily swipe his way into your hotel room two doors down from his. He often finds you in a cute silky babydoll, getting ready to sleep after a long day in the garage but making sure to dress prettily because you never know when Max is in a bad mood and wants to take it out on you. You had one more job to do, and that’s to make up for whatever mistake you must have made with the car and fucked up his hot lap, Max would argue. An angry Max always scared you so you would sweetly beg for his forgiveness, even for a mistake you would never have made on the car, letting him abuse your petite frame to vent his frustrations.

Tonight, he wanted to play with your breasts, sliding the silky straps off your nightie off your shoulders to hungrily eye your curves, tanned nipples quickly tightening from the chill. Can’t get enough of these pretty fucking tits, he said as he sloppily fucked them while you obediently kneeled in between his spread legs. You’re squeezing your plush chest together to cushion his raging erection, his angry red tip making you squeal when he growls and splatters cum all over your deliciously tanned skin. Knowing he’d get mad if you don’t let him mark his territory, you rub the sticky cream all over your hardened nipples and large breasts before you clean up his drooling cockhead with your mouth. He cooes his praises at you, telling you see, you’re perfect at this, maybe he’ll have you promoted from engineer to his personal cocksleeve to relieve his stress, hmm?

You feel so dirty at the wetness gushing between your legs at his filthy words, biting your lip at the thought of Max fucking you in his driver’s room while your brothers stood just a garage over in Ferrari. But despite his constant teasing, he knew to never cross the line fully and actually fuck you. That would scare you away, make you too anxious, and although he played rough and mean when he'd been younger, he now had the patience to wait and leave you wanting more, so that you'd be the one to come to him. So he edged you constantly, working you up only to pull away just as you almost climaxed, his name on your tongue like a prayer. Or pulling you into sleep against his bare muscled chest, so that you'd feel his morning wood against your soaked panties but be unable to do anything except dry hump him.

And his plan worked because after only a few months, your once pure and innocent mind has become utterly ruined for Max’s attention. The Dutch Lion has convinced you that you’re meant to be his plaything, and you can’t find it within you to try and deny him any longer. Would it truly be so wrong to give in to the naughty desires you’d been having about your childhood sweetheart, your school bully, your brother’s rival on track but friend that had been trusted to keep his little sister safe? When you’d grown too desperate to satisfy yourself by grinding on your pillow or your tiny fingers, you’d decided to entice Max even more in the hopes that he’d properly take your innocence.

You’d certainly caught the Dutchman’s eye, as well as many other hungry gazes, when you started arriving on the paddock in cute heels and floral minidresses. And of course, your generous cleavage was out on full display in sweetheart necklines, instead of conservatively hidden in an oversized Redbull shirt. You’d made sure to have your lanyard tucked right in between your bouncing tits too, the label of Max Verstappen’s Enineering Team dangling and drawing attention with each bounce of your tits when you walked. Because you knew your Maxie just as well as he knew you, after all - and he was a intensely competitive and jealous man. You hadn’t even had to wait till the debrief as he’d hightailed it right out of the meeting room, taking you to his motor home through a back passage.

You still play the clueless little virgin, adamant on trying to resist him even though you're secretly finding it just as dirty and hot as Max does when he shoves you against the door, locking it firmly. Fuck, your body drives me wild, it’s all your fault that I’m getting distracted like this. How can you be such a naive virgin but walk around with the body of a slut just begging to get fucked, huh?

You frantically shake your head, trying to plead your innocence but he doesn’t hear your words, instead grabbing a hold of your miniskirt and asking if you understood girls with thick asses like you shouldn’t be showing them off unless you wanted attention, yeah? You started crying easily, already finding your thoughts going fuzzy as you slipped into submission, craving the way he’d degrade you for his own pleasure.

He’d have to punish you for distracting him, he said, even though he’d won P1 it had been torture seeing your fat ass bending over when you dropped your phone in front of him. You were lucky no one else had seen your cotton panties or he’d have to fucking kill them.

His possessive words make you shiver, doe brown eyes staring up at him expectantly and waiting for his orders. He swears at your obedient expression and guides your hand to his sizeable bulge, making you squeal, hoping it sounds like fright and not eagerness. He rubs your tiny palm across his pants, demanding to know just how the hell he was meant to focus with a hard on the whole race?

When you can’t answer him properly he smirks and tells you that you’ll just have to take your punishment like a good girl, then. Within seconds he has you lying across his lap, your miniskirt up around your hips and white cotton panties pulled down to snugly trap your thick thighs together. And then he’s spanking you with his large hands, telling you to count and meanly restarting each time you lost track when he hits extra hard to watch your ass bounce. By the time he’s finally content your cheeks are red and burning, and you’ve left drool all over his sofa from your desperate efforts to muffle your wails.

You like that, don’t you bunny? He asks meanly. You start sniffling again at his mean words, cheeks burning with humiliation because it had felt soooo good but you felt so naughty for enjoying it. You'd die if he found out. So instead you tell him he was being so mean, Maxie, couldn’t he just be nice to you like when he’d been younger?

Your eyes widen as you blurt the words out instinctively, making Max’s expression grow stormy at your bratty reply. Ripping your panties off entirely, he stuffs them into his pocket and tells you to explain why you’re fucking dripping all over me then, hmm? - running his thick fingers along your dripping cunny and smirking at the long strands of sticky wetness that connect to his fingers when he pulls away. When you don’t respond, too embarrassed by how your body has given you away, he slides the fingers into your closed mouth despite your attempts to turn your head. He makes you lick him clean, tasting yourself on him, murmuring if you were a good slut and spread your legs for him he might consider eating you out.

The ache between your thighs is almost as painful as your tender ass now, and your virgin cunny tingles from the idea of Max kissing you down there. Even though he’s being so mean, you can’t help but sit down willingly against the sofa arm and slowly part your thick thighs, blushing all the while as he examines you intently. You whine when his hungry gaze continues to linger, but he doesn’t stop, even taking out his phone to snap photos of your pussy after holding your thighs open to stop you frantically closing them when you see what he’s doing. It’s so cute and wet he murmurs distractedly, looking entranced as he slowly sinks a single thick finger in and finds it completely sucked in by your tight, drooling pussy. Really, you’ve never let any boy except for me touch you here, not even with his fingers? At the shake of your head and shy murmur of no, just my own, I promise, Maxie he breaks into an evil, satisfied grin. So this little hole is really all mine to claim, huh?

It turns out going down on you was really more of a punishment than a pleasure because he makes you cum multiple times with his skilled tongue. You’re begging him to stop, feeling overstimulated and completely wrecked, mascara stained tears running over your chubby cheeks. When he finally eases his sadistic torture after teasing flicks of his broad tongue have you squirting a third time, you’re too fucked out to protest him separating your puffy cunny lips and spitting onto it, as if it belonged to him. Bunny, if your brothers knew the kind of things I was doing to their precious baby sister, Max says, chuckling darkly. They’d want to slam me straight into the nearest barricade and have my head on a spike.

But your brothers remain as oblivious to your corruption as ever, with an endless supply of work excuses easily being used by Max and now you, as you started to fully give in and enjoy the intense pleasure being his personal fucktoy brought you. He’d taken your sweet virginity on a hot night in Singapore after beating Charles to P1, telling you that the best reward wasn’t the trophy but knowing he got to cum raw inside your untouched cunny. After plying you with champagne at the yacht afterparty, he'd taken you back and fucked you on the French chaise, not even making it to the bed. He’d been gentle the first time, huskily whispering praises in your ears as you desperately tried to adjust to the size, his cock so much larger than his fingers. He licked away the tears at the corner of your eyes as you bite his shoulder, lost in the waves of pleasure as you ride out your orgasm.

When he finally carries you over to the bed, climbing over your satisfied figure, you’re fooled into thinking he’s going to cuddle you. He’s turning you onto your front and you’re expecting to feel him behind you, bringing you into him as his little spoon like he does ever night. But your sleepy eyes go wide open when your thick hips are suddenly pulled up into the air, and your flushed face pressed down firmly into the sheets. And then he huskily whispers it’s time to fuck you properly, be a good bunny for me and take it, okay?

You wailed into the cushions, your open mouth leaving drool all over the pillowcases, as his cock bullies your tight cunny over and over. He reaches around to toy with your sensitive clit, smirking when your crying turned into confused moans of pleasure as the pressure in your pussy starts to feel so good. Soon he’s slamming his hard length into your twitching figure, slapping your red plump ass repeatedly and telling you how funny it’d be if Charlie found out his rival had claimed your virginity, hmm? Should he tell him next time the Ferrari driver tried to one up him on the track? You sob, begging him not to tell your protective brother, shaking your ass onto him and telling him he could even cum inside if he wanted instead of telling your brother. Max groans at your gullibility. Silly girl, he croons as he bends down to whisper in your ear, his muscled abs pressing down on you. I was always going to do that anyways, hmm? This ass belongs to me.

And then he’s moaning into your drooling mouth as his hips still above yours, draining his heavy balls into your pussy that had already been stuffed full of his thick, creamy load from the first round. Rivulets of your mixed juices run down the inside of your thighs, overflowing from the sheer amount of cum he’s pumped you full of. You know better than to ask him to wear a condom, instead praying that it was the wrong time of the month to get knocked up. Especially when he doesn’t let you get up and try to pee it out, instead murmuring he’s just going to stuff a couple of fingers inside and make sure you don’t waste anymore, okay? You try to resist, crawling away and wanting to save your poor, overstimulated clit but once again Max easily holds you still. Hmm, guess I’ll just have to teach you a lesson and use my cock to plug you up, he threatens meanly, making tears fall down your face again and his dick twitches with interest. Every man had his pleasures, and world champion Max Verstappen’s was to see the Leclerc baby sister crying and begging for him. Sick bastard, you think distantly through a pleasurable haze as he sinks back inside your gummy walls and makes you keep his cock warm.

Your secret affair with the Dutch Lion continues easily throughout the year. And at the end of your contract, at the yearly FIA prizegiving, you attend with Charles instead of with the Redbull team, dutifully doing your part as the Leclerc sister now that your term at a rival garage was done. At one point you get up from dinner, saying you had to find the bathroom, but end up gone for 20 minutes, missing Cha being awarded overtake of the year for when his Ferrari had divebombed the leading Redbull. Later, when everyone is mingling, Charles walks over to Max’s table, shaking his hand and taking a seat to reminisce about the season. They’d come so far together from their childhood karting days, wasn’t it heartwarming now that they stood together on the F1 stage?

The two men laugh, catching up on missed updates during the busy end of season. Soon they’re talking about their love lives, Max congratulating Cha on his relationship he’s recently made public. The Ferrari driver warmly returns the compliment, saying whoever the Redbull driver was seeing recently must be treating him well because he’s never seen Max so relaxed before. He’s seen the gossip magazines speculate who the silhouette of a mystery girl seen making out on Max’s lap in a paparrazi shot through his car window. Max slyly commented that it was good the camera hadn’t been able to go lower, because then they’d have seen that she’d actually been bouncing on my dick underneath her skirt. Charles laughs at Max’s deviousness, patting him on the back for being such a shameless fucker.

Charles had forgotten to go find the youngest Leclerc, which was just as well because he would never have been able to guess where you had been hiding. You’re diligently on your knees, drooling on Max’s cock underneath the tablecloth, safely tucked in close between his spread legs. Your brother is completely unaware that the girl he and Max are joking about is his innocent baby sister, who’s currently worshipping his rival’s thick length eagerly. Paying the price for her brother’s overtake on the track with her glossy pink lips, just as Max had ordered you too when he found out what award his rival was getting tonight.

As the night continues, all formality lost as the party goers make use of the open bar, it was all to easy for the blonde Dutchman to make you follow him to the private bathroom. It’s so degrading, so mean of Max to do this, to have you on the dirty bathroom floor with your pretty curls unpinned from the classy updo you’d spend ages styling. Your expensive red silk dress hangs off your hips and exposes your bare, bouncing tits to his hungry gaze. So slutty, no bra and all, hmm? You wanted me to fuck you tonight, didn’t you? Answer me! He slaps his hard length repeatedly against your chubby cheeks, spraying precum everywhere and making your perfect makeup run.

Soon mascara stained tears are dripping down your face as Max makes you finish sloppily sucking him off, his phone camera on you and recording every single filthy sound that fills the air. It’s obscene, the way his huge cock stretches your small plush lips open all the way and your eyes roll to the back of your head every time his tip grazes the back of your throat. Hmm, so eager to drink my cum, aren’t you? He coos, and you nod dazedly, your doe eyes glassy. Fuck, you’re such a good little slut, letting me do whatever I want you to your body. My own personal fucktoy. Bet you’d even let me piss down your throat if I wanted, huh?

You gag at this, trying to shake your head but finding it impossible with the strong grip he has on your hair. Max chuckles at your panicked expression, reassuring you not to worry, he wasn’t that mean. You don’t believe him, because later he bends you over the bathroom counter and makes you look in the mirror to see where his leaking cock repeatedly sinks in to the hilt, stretching your cunny out yet again, filling it with his thick seed. You text Cha some excuse about feeling unwell and leaving early as Max buckles you into his passenger seat, knowing there was no way you could explain your absolutely wrecked appearance to your brother afterwards.

You’ve realized that the legal end of your Redbull contract really had no say on anything. Because at the end of the day the only thing that mattered was what Max wanted - and he wanted you to stay by his side, forever. So you let him take your hand in his a few months later at Lorenzo’s wedding, revealing the secret relationship to your family. Your mother is overjoyed, telling you both that you always had her blessing, ever since you’d been kids. Your brothers take a lot more convincing, of course, as well as Max swearing privately to Cha that you certainly hadn’t been the girl from the paparazzi car incident, he’d never treat the Leclerc princess like that of course! He was a playboy before, sure, but for you he was willing to stop all that and commit.

Charles gives you two his begrudging yes, seeing how attentive Max was with you, always intently watching you whenever you entered the same room as him and always knowing where you were if you walked away. And the way you’d look up adoringly at the blonde, desire and love clear in your doe eyes. Soon you’ve accepted Max’s offer to move into his penthouse, unpacking all the lingerie and diamond necklace sets he’s been buying you for months. And when he comes home at the end of a tiring day, sighing and settling on the living room couch, you now know to anticipate Max’s needs before he has to tell you. You crawl over to him, wearing skimpy lingerie in his favourite colour, nuzzling your face into his clothed thigh and asking please Maxie, could you please suck him off, your mouth felt empty without him?

He places a loving kiss to your forehead and unbuckles his belt for you, cooing praises at what a good little pet you were being for him. This time, when he cums, you have no issue greedily swallowing every single drop of his hot, sticky cum, licking your well trained lips. So yummy, Maxie…Would you like my pussy or my ass next?

He smirks down at your slutty words, a dazed expression on your face, dumbly ready to please him however he liked, whenever he was in the mood, wherever he wants it. Nothing quite beats having his own personal toy, even if it’s taken some time to break you in. Doesn’t matter now, though, because it has been worth it. Because you’ll never leave his side again, completely devoted to him, the concept of being with any other man ruined for you.

Time for him to make good on his childhood promise, Max thinks. Make you his vrouw, his wife, once and for all.

[jyoongim]

ANON ASKED: realder is a shy doe that’s like 5ft. She pretty much avoids Alastor like her life depends on it, because he makes her uncomfortable, and of course he knows he does. She goes into heat, but doesn’t find a partner. She just gets very tired and just goes into hibernation. Alastor find that very interesting to say the least. After staying at the hotel for so long, their heats sync and its a mess for him and she isn’t aware of it.

Degrading, voice kink, size kink, and breeding kink. Ear and tail pulling??? Fem! Reader receiving

So i think i missed a few marks and then it spiraled but i did my best to fulfill your request as best my ability!!!!

@animeloveruwu1234

As the weather got colder, you started to rarely be seen around the hotel. Your heat was rolling around and the urge to nest was nagging you.

You sighed, rolling out of bed and heading down for breakfast.

You were greeted with the scent of warm deliciousness. You pile your plate full of food, opting for more sweets and meats to the surprise of the other residents.

“ Christ.  Slow down Toots, you’re gonna choke.” Angel laughed as you munched happily on a avocado toast sausage bacon mix.

You giggled “Its winter Angel, i have to pack on some weight. I tell you every year” Your ears perked in alert when static ran up your body. Your ears drooped when Alastor entered the kitchen. “Why what a fine hellish day it is!”

He hummed as he waltzed past you, you nearly choked on your food when he leaned over your shoulder, looking at your plate “Didn’t take you for the cannibalism type doe” grinning as you looked away, huffing ”its cooked” as he stole a piece of ham.

“Does typically pick up weight in the winter. They have to fill out in order to provide for fawns. They make for excellent pickings during hunting season” Alastor said as he buttered his toast, eyes on you as you squirmed slightly.

Angel and Charlie gawked “You’re gonna have a baby?!”

Your eyes widened “What!? No! Its just a deer thing. No fawns anytime soon” you blushed. Shaking your head you stood from the table, excusing yourself.

You weren’t necessarily afraid of Alastor, you had been around him long enough to get use to tolerate him, but the stag still made you uncomfortable, even after all this time around him. He reeked of dominance and power and your much softer nature did not mesh well with his intimidating one.You usually only spoke a few words to him, always excusing yourself to get away from him. 

Like now, the comment about deer season had your skittish nature taking over, not liking the idea of potentially being a target.

Alastor chuckled as you walked by him. Your cute fluffy tail twitching, begging to be tugged on Alastor blinked at the intrusive thought.

That was new. He shook it off as just a sadistic moment. 

————————————————————————————-

You curled in your pile of blankets as your heat raked through you.

Over the last few days, Charlie was so kind to leave you food and water so you didn’t have to go to the kitchen.

But you were itching for fresh air. Stretching your legs would do you some good.

Maybe you would find a partner to mate with on your outing.

You took a deep breath of fresh air as you exited the hotel, sighing happily. You bobbed around the city, nose sniffing out any potential males.

After a while your body started to heat up and you were going tired. You weren’t successful as most demon you met were either too eager to keep you tied up or not interested.

oh well.

As you approached the hotel a faint musky scent had your senses in a frenzy. You subconsciously followed the faint scent and ended up in the kitchen. No one was in there, but a tray of food was perched on the table, probably for you.

The last few weeks you were eating way more to keep up the energy that was burning through you.

You stuffed your mouth as you sniffed again, sighing deeply as the scent seemed to fog your head.

You had your fill and went to retreat to your bedroom, when you bumped into a solid chest.

Your ears perked at the sound of a faint growl and static.

”Careful doe” a deep voice purred.

Alastor.

You took a step back, ears furrowing back “Oh! I’m sorry Al”you looked up at him.

The tall red demon smiled down at you, but something seemed off.

His smile looked strained, and his ears were flickering about, eyes narrowed. He looked slightly flustered.

Your instincts had you look over him, to see if you could find the sense of his discomfort.

You hand reached out to press against his forehead, his skin was clammy.

Alastor didn’t flinch from your touch or slap your hand away, instead his head leaned into your hand, making your head tilt in question.

”Al? Do you feel alright?” Your eyes filled with worry. Alastor hummed, a sharp claw clasping your chin as he chuckled “Oh its nothing I cant handle dear.” You nodded, taking his word and made your way back to your room.

You curled in your nest as you thought about how strangely the demon was acting. But maybe it really was nothing.

————————————————————————————-

Alastor had smelled the most delicious scent waft across his nose. It smelled familiar but it was just too sweet to pinpoint who it belonged to. So he followed it.

The scent led him to the kitchen where he found you. 

The little doe was having her filling, consuming some food, stuffing her soft cheeks with whatever was on the tray.

You looked plumper. Softer. For as long as he had known you, your heats were interesting to witness.

You tended to eat more, your usual slim figure filling out to accommodate the energy you burned. You often hid away when you were in heat. Something that Alastor found interesting.

Most does sought out partners to satisfy them, but not you.

He had overheard you how most of the times you did go seeking partners but no one tickled your fancy enough.

Something about that made his chest tingle.

No one would be able to satisfy you like he could his instincts screamed.

With another deer around, your heats triggered his ruts.

He had never interacted with you while in a rut, so when you bumped into him, he wasn’t ready for the consequences.

You let out a cute little squeak when you collided with his chest, ears perked as you registered the static he let off.

He felt his cock stir in his pants as he breathed in your scent.

Your heat must have been flaring as he could taste how your cunt smelled.

His ears furrowed against his head, the only indicator that something was wrong. He kept up his composure as you nervously apologized. But as he too was in rut, he was sure he was showing some signs, as you asked if he was ok.

He tensed up as he felt your hand on his cheek, but leaned into your touch.

Your soft voice laced in concern as you looked over him, checking to make sure he wasn’t ill.

Oh what a naive doe.

It was taking every bit of control he had to not take you against the kitchen table.

how would you look as he took you? 

Would you beg him to make a mess of you?

Would you let him breed you to the point your cunt dripped with his cum?

He let out a low growl once you left the kitchen, turning his head to watch your full ass sway as your tail twitched about.

———————————————————————————

A knock at your door had you stirring awake from the comfort of your makeshift nest.

You were much too tired and had no desire to answer whoever was on the other side of the door. Your heat was at a all time high and the stickiness between your thighs, a result of your abusing your poor clit for relief.  If it was Charlie, then she would just leave food at your door. Your eyes started to drift close, the sweet call of sleep sounding so appealing. 

Your ears twitched at the knock again, a soft growl escaping your throat.

Your tired brain did not catch up with your nose as you swung open the door, tired eyes widening as you are face to chest? With Alastor.

You keened your neck to look up at him; head tilting as the red demon peered down at you with black blown out eyes.

”Al?”you asked confused, rubbing at your eyes sleepily.

”Apologies my dear, did I wake you?”  He asked, head tilted, voice feign concern, his red ears erect and honed in on your soft panting, eyes narrowing at he took in the slight coat of sweat on your skin and how disoriented you seemed.

You nodded wordlessly, now highly aware that you, a doe were in full heat, evidence of that clinging to your thighs, and a stag was at your door.

Your heart sounded in your ears as your eyes raked over Alastor, accessing him.

Taking mental notes of mating potential instinctively.

“I thought you were Charlie…she usually leaves me food”

He hummed, a clawed hand coming up to your face to grip your chin. You blinked. Body buzzing.

Alastor’s instinct were screaming to push you back into your room and claim you in your nest, and satisfy the burn in his body.

Your scent had basically coated the hotel in its sweet smell. The scent making his cock twitch and antlers itch.

And the scent of your cunt had his mouth watering.

And he will have his fill.

”Your heat must  take a lot out of you dear” his hands reached to soothe your tense shoulders, fingertips massaging the flesh. You stayed still as his hands roamed your body, softly pawing at the curves you gained from your heat. 

His lips nipped at your soft ear, purring into it “I could provide assistance if you like?”

 Your tail wagged as you gulped “A-Assistance?” You asked. 

From your time around the red demon, you have never known him to willingly help people. Alastor maintained a sense of control in every situation, twisting and bending the rules to be in his favor.

A doe in heat should be easy to manipulate.

”Yeeeessss anything you want my dear! Think of it as ‘I scratch your back so you can scratch mine’ type of deal hmmm?” He chuckled darkly, slowly backing you into your room.

————————————————————————————-

Soft moans filled the room, accompanied by the hum of static as Alastor sucked at your clit.

You were sprawled out on your back in your nest, knees on either side of Alastor’s head as he lavished your clit with his tongue.

You panted as his tongue dipped into heat, thighs shuddering as it curled and lapped at your juices.

”H-Hah!! Ah! Ah! A-Al!” You whined, toes curling when he sucked the sore bud into his mouth. You tugged at the big antlers that separated your legs.

He had already made you cum on his fingers twice; cooing into your neck as you cried, cunt clenching around the digits like a vice.

Alastor grunted lowly, nipping at your clit with sharp teeth before sucking it back into his mouth. A finger dipped to fill you as he flicked your clit. Your gummy walls squeezing him, contracting at the intrusion but welcoming him into its depths.

He cooed around into your cunt, eyes looking up at you.

Your face was flushed and slick with sweat. Hands at your breasts, pulling and massaging your perky nipples.

Pouty lips parted as your moans tore from your throat.

”oooh c’mon doll, one more. You’ve been doing so good.”

Your body felt like it was burning. Each orgasm fogging your head with pure desire to be sated properly.

Your hips followed the rhythm of his tongue, using the hold on his antlers to ride his face.

 Alastor let you be. Happily curling his finger inside you as he lapped up your essence.

Your back arched as a third orgasm ripped through you, teeth clenching as your hips twitched in overstimulation, but riding it out to make the sensation last.

You sighed as you went limp, eyes hazily looking up at the ceiling, waiting to fall back to earth.

But you didn’t have the time to tuck your legs back in and roll over to sleep, when Alastor adjusted himself onto his knees and pulled you flush to his hips. 

A surprised “Ah!” Escaped your lips as your cunt was filled to the brim. 

With cock.

Alastor growled, hissing as finally your cunt so asked around him, unsure whether to welcome him. A harsh thrust broke what little resistance your walls gave and had you mewling.

“Oh fuck!”

Large claws kneaded at your fleshy thighs, holding them to your chest as his hips crashed down into yours, cock hitting that sweet nerve over and over, making you coat his cock in creamy slick.

”Al-Alastor! Ha! Nggh ooh fuuuck me!” You cried, tears forming in your eyes as he pounded your count.

”You would think after all this time, I wouldn’t blink when you’re in heat. But oh darlin’ you always know how to catch my interest.” He goated lightly, a claw coming up to your parted lips, his thumb pressing inside as you sucked subconsciously on the digit.

His eyes narrowed at you, pulling his hips back to snap them forward as a response.

”Do you know how divine you smell? Just walking around with a dripping cunt without a care. Many demons would kill to fuck a cunt this appealing”  a dark smirk curled on his lips when your cunt made a wet sound. “And Ill kill many demons to keep it to myself” he purred setting out a rough pace, claws on your round hips to pull you into his thrusts, keeping his cock nestled within your warm cavern.

Alastor was fucking you in your nest

A place sacred for only a doe’s mate

did that mean…was he?

Your brain was reeling. It couldn’t keep up with the sensations that were raking through your body. Your hands found purchase in the surrounding blankets as you let out moans that if you were in your right mind, would have left you embarrassed.

”mmhmm hmmm nngh Ah! Hhhaaa!” Your body jolted with his thrusts, the squish squelch noise of your cunt, echoing in your ears.

”Oh what a sweet doe you are my dear. I’ve always wonder what lied under that shy demeanor. And my my I wasn’t disappointed. A whore willing to spread her legs and be mounted.” You whimpered as he manhandled you onto your belly, knees barely supporting you as he slotted himself back inside you. You felt a heavy weight on your head, tugging to force your body to bounce on his cock.

when did your horns come in? 

You hadn’t realized it, but you had transformed into your demon form. 

and fucking hell were you gorgeous Alastor thought, hands wrapped around your slender horns and using them to control your movements.

Your tongue hanged out your mouth as your ass took the brute force of his thrusts. Alastor’s cock felt amazing.

Better than you could have imagined and so much better to scratch that lusty itch.

There was a puddle forming underneath you, soaking the bed, making the skin of Alastor’s thighs stick to yours.

Finally getting a look at your backside, Alastor felt his cock twitch as his eyes roamed down to where his cock was disappearing into you. His eyes zeroed in on your tail.

His hand dragged down your back, sharp claws cutting slightly to make blood ripple done your back. He wrapped his hand around your tail, softly twindling the tuft of fur before pulling.

A high-pitch moan left your throat. Your cunt clenched around him in response.

interesting he thought smiling as he used his grip on your tail to really make you take his cock deeper.

Your cunt was a soppy mess.

”Oh you like your tail pulled on dear? What a nautghty girl” Alastor chortled as he rocked his hips into you.

You were completely dazed with lust, that tingling knot forming in your stomach.

”please” you begged, pushing your hips against him, mewling as his hit the sponge that had you feeling sparks.

Alastor leaned over to your ear, never breaking his pace.

”hmmm? What was that dear?” He taunted cruelly.

”are you begging? What do you want doll? Cause I’m not going to stop til you’re filled with my cum. Is that what you want?”

You nodded “yes! Please please please let me cum! Cum in me- i w-want your cum please! Ha! Fuuuucckk” you whined, hand reaching underneath you to play with your clit.

”A-Al…please…breed me please i want it! I want it so bad!”

That had his cock twitch and hammer into you at record speed.

”oooh don’t worry your pretty head. You’ll get your fill”

Angled thrusts had your body jolting against the bed as you cried out, moaning so loud you were sure everyone in the hotel could hear you.

Alastor thought you were beautiful. How lovely you were covered in blood and sweat as he pounded you out. Your body went rigid before he felt your cunt flutter around him, milking him dry.

Your body slumped forward as he continue to ride out your orgasm.

”what a pretty doe, that’s a good girl. Milking my cock like a wanton slut. That’s it. I’m going to fill you up so good, I’m going to carve your cunt to only take my cock. You’ll like that wont you sweetheart? F-Fuck take it baby take it!” He grunted, snapping his hips into yours before he let out a loud growl, cock twitching before spilling his cum into you, painting your gooey walls white.

You let out a low whine feeling his warm goo fill you, before he pulled out, finally letting your body go.

You convulsed on the bed, panting as you felt his sticky spunk start to leak out of you.

Alastor sighed, rubbing your thighs as you came down from your high.

He chuckled “yes I think you’ll do just fine darlin”

Maybe heat cycles weren’t so bad after all…especially when there was a Doe ready to be filled with cum.

”Lovely”

[buckyalpine]

18+ af, minors dni. Dub con elements, please ignore if it's not your thing. Back at it with a dark Bucky who has the biggest corruption kink and loves to manipulate the sweet doll across the hall who makes him have the most unholy thoughts. He can't help how badly he craves for her to take care of him, comfort him, all while he pretends he has no idea what's happening with his body after all the abuse from Hydra. His mind is too fried. He's just too innocent with so many big feelings. So many big, thick, achy, leaky feelings-

Oop-

It started off with small things. Patching him up after a rough mission. Making him dinner. Feeding him. Falling asleep in her lap. Seeking her out when he has bad dreams. Calling her mommy when he was especially needy and just wanted to be held. Feel extra close. Around her, he's just a clingy little baby Bucky who loves to nurse from his pretty mommy for comfort.

It's all perfectly innocent. Sometimes after a nightmare. Sometimes before bed. Her nipples are so warm against his tongue, his pink lips sealed around every bit of her peaked bud. Who was she to deny him with the way he cuddled his face into her chest with the quietest "Mommy, please?"

Of course she lets him take her top off, it's nothing sexual, purely to comfort him, his gentle gurgles quickly turning into soft snores within minutes.

She'd always take care of him.

Like now when you were watching tv, lounging in a loose tank top. He splays himself across your lap and you idly play with his hair while he gets comfy, only wearing his boxers. He’s so cute and precious, reaching up to latch onto your breasts, tugging at your top so you'd take it off. He nuzzles his face in, struggling to maintain his facade of just needing to be held, no longer able to ignore the way his cock needed attention too.

You're so used to letting him take what he needs, you don't notice his extra squirming, still focused on your show until he takes your hand to show you where he actually needs you.

"Mommy, it’s hard" he whines while your eyes grow wide. It's always fuckin' hard around you, pretty girl.

He’d never done that before, spreading his thighs further so you could see where he needed you most, blinking up at you innocently while his thick cock pressed against the fabric, rubbing your hand over his bulge.

"B-Baby?"

"Mommy, help" he continues to pout before going back to sucking while shoving your hand down his boxers to his achy erection. You feel your heart beat out of your chest with your hand now wrapped around his velvety shaft, absolutely torn over what to do. It wasn't his fault his body was reacting this way. He was asking the one person he felt safe around to take care of him. He obviously didn't know any better.

God, you felt awful over how frustrated he would have felt not knowing who else to turn to when he was in such a cloudy headspace. You stay frozen until he puts his hand over yours, showing you how to touch him, stroking up and down with just the right pressure.

"S-sometimes I do this by myself" He moans between tugging your nipples between his lips, lifting his hips up to take off his briefs. His balls are heavy between his thighs, full and aching after waiting months for this very moment. "It feels good, is it bad?"

"No sweet boy, it's normal" You coo, giving him exactly what he wants while his body runs hot, his hips rutting up to chase more of your soft hand, "I got you, don't worry, relax Jamie" You pet his hair while stroking his cock, his mouth working between your breasts, lost in his own world. Even now, he looked so innocent, a deep blush on his cheeks while you made him feel good, it was going to take years to help him remember-

"It feels good here mommy" He wraps your hand around his dripping, swollen head, his hips pushing up, eyes nearly rolling back at the way his cock feels in your hand. He knows he's gonna blow-

"R-right there, m'gonna-make a mess" He moans between a shy pout and of course you reassure him you'll clean him right up because he's doing nothing wrong and all of this was perfectly natural. His body was responding to touch exactly the way it had to, he was safe with you-

"MMPHHHH" He cries out as the first stream shoots out, load after load still pouring out of his stiff cock. You wipe him down and he spends the rest of the night cuddled up with soft blankets, hiding his smirk with his face tucked into your neck while you rub his back.

I could stop here but just imagine what happens when he decides to get more bold.

"Do you ever feel like this?" He asks innocently and you nearly squeak in surprise. He waits intently for an answer and you pause before answering, carefully considering your words.

"Um, sometimes baby"

Liar, he thinks. I hear you pretty girl, always playing with that pretty pussy thinking I can't hear you.

"Can I help you?" You swear his voice drops an octave and so does your stomach. It felt so fucking wrong, why were you responding to him like this, he wasn't thinking clearly and you were getting turned on-"Like how you helped me?"

"No! No Jamie, you-you don't have to"

Oh, but he wants to because you're so good to him and it's not fair he doesn't help you too. That's how he manages to get you naked and spread out on his bed, shoving his cock in your pussy.

"M'I doing it right?" He still looks at you with the sweetest lost expression but you can't help but notice there's something darker in his eyes. His whines melt into groans, his pace growing faster. "M'so hard mommy"

"J-Jamie, I-" You're so confused over what to do, moans escaping your lips, your pussy swallowing his cock back in each time he thrusts.

"Tell me to stop mommy" You swear you hear a smirk in his voice, his movements suddenly more calculated, his hips perfectly rolling to hit that spot your fingers can never reach, "Tell Jamie to stop"

"St-Jamie, oh God" You pant, your orgasm barreling towards you and you want to scream stop because something is off but his hands snake between your bodies and he finds your clit- "Please!"

"M'gonna think about this when I touch myself, mommy" He rubs you faster, needing you to cum instead of worrying your pretty head, "Can I? Can I think of you when I make a mess? M'gonna make one now, I-

He couldn't wait for you to tell him why your belly would be getting bigger and bigger over the next few months.

Lord I'm sorry.

[blondieeu]

shy. gojo s.

satoru gojo having a shy girlfriend definitely includes him always complimenting you, just to watch you get all nervous and hot for him.

satoru already knew you were a pretty shy girl from the first time he’d even met you. pretty and kind. the type to break eye contact and cover your face when complimented, just what he liked.

you enjoyed lots of poetry and books, so he picked up the reading habit as well— trying his best to be your dream man, just so he could make you blush some more.

one of satorus favorite times of the day to compliment you were in the early mornings. when the sun had just barely risen from the horizon and the sleep hadn’t been rubbed out of either of your eyes yet. he was always the one to wake up first, so while he waited he’d just stare at you, until you woke up not too long after.

“hi.”

“hi”

the mornings were one of the only times satoru could stare without you asking him dumb questions like; “why are you staring” or “haven’t you had enough of my face?” he could never get enough!

but eventually of course satoru would have to ruin the moment by saying something beautiful. the kind of thing only men in books would say to their lover, and it was only because they were written by women.

“i wanna be with you for the rest of my life.”

a bashful smile would spread onto your face, all before your cheeks would start to feel all hot and you’d turn away from him, trying to hide it. your boyfriend never took offense to it though, instead he laughed and pulled you closer kissing at your neck, tickling you and gathering quiet giggles from you. he thought he could die a happy man, right in this moment.

“im gonna propose soon, so be ready.”

“you can’t joke around like that satoru!”

“i already bought the ring”

the giggles quickly came to a halt as you turned towards him, his crystal blue eyes meeting your own in all seriousness.

“you’re for real?”

“marry me.”

blondieeu xx

[brokenmenswhore]

Hi! I see you wrote that you’re going to start writing for Marauders? I was wondering if maybe you could write a fic where the reader is dating one of the boys and they keep doing stuff in front of the others, and the others are all frustrated and horny? You can decline if you want!

don’t look | poly!marauders

pairing: poly!marauders x fem!reader, remus lupin x fem!reader

warnings: smut (MDNI 18+), voyeurism, language

part 2

────── ☾ ──────

Remus was never shy around his friends, but he wasn’t decent, either. He didn’t understand what the big deal was about fucking you when they were around. He wanted what he wanted, when he wanted it, and he didn’t care if James or Sirius heard you, as long as they didn’t look.

He started touching you when they were around, causing you to blush and push him off of you.

“Relax, Y/N, they don’t care,” he said.

“I care,” you retorted, “you aren’t gonna rub me off in front of everyone in this dorm room.”

“Why not?” he pouted, continuing his actions no matter what. It felt too good to stop him, and besides, what did you have to be ashamed of? You always spoke of sex positivity, and it isn’t anything the other boys haven’t heard before.

When Sirius and James started to hear your whimpers, they looked over at you from their beds, and Remus glared at them.

“What the fuck are you two looking at?” he asked, slowly inserting a finger into your hole.

“Fuck do you mean?” James asked, “you’re fucking her in front of us.”

“Doesn’t mean you’re allowed to see her like this,” Remus replied, and that was enough to make it clear to the boys that they were not to look at you when they heard Remus work you up.

But there you were, spread eagle on the couch, Remus’s tongue inside of you while his thumb circled and flicked at your bud.

You couldn’t stop the moans that poured out of your lips, your hands pulling at Remus’ hair, causing him to moan into your hole.

“Shit, Rem,” you sighed out, whines and whimpers filling up the room.

Sirius was sat across from you, trying his hardest to keep his attention on the books in his lap.

You let out a particularly filthy moan, and Sirius couldn’t help but sneak a peek. You threw your head back, your chest rising and falling rapidly. He thought you looked so pretty.

Remus had his back turned to Sirius since he was kneeling on the floor in front of you, so Sirius saw no issue in keeping his gaze on you.

Remus ate you like a man starved, gripping your thighs to keep them open as you pushed his head closer to your cunt.

Your moans were growling louder, and you were completely unashamed of it. “Rem!” you squealed as the feeling grew and grew.

You tilted your head down to watch Remus eat you, and your eyes caught Sirius’ on the way down. He was looking straight at you. You thought about maybe signaling to Remus, but you honestly didn’t care. “Don’t look” was Remus’ rule, not yours, and besides, Sirius was hot.

You whined as you stared Sirius, Remus’s fingers moving faster and faster as you began to clench around his tongue. Your high hit you like a train, and you fought to keep your eyes open and trained on Sirius.

Sirius shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable in his pants, as he watched you come and then come down from your high. Your breathing started to still and Remus looked up at you, noticing you staring forward. He whipped his head around, making direct eye contact with Sirius.

“Sirius!” he screamed.

Sirius shot up and leaped over the couch, running out of the room as Remus chased him.

[4unnyr0se]

❥ timeskip! haikyuu captains matching with you on tinder | tetsuro kuroo

warnings: timeskip! kuroo, fem! reader, reader is his secretary, riding(?), unprotected sex, rough sex, implied multiple orgasms (f! receiving), reader acts innocent but is actually a slut, implied size kink, kuroo is rich asf argue with the wall

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 904

Sports promotions was an easy job once you knew what you were doing and who you were working with. Kuroo, being a former captain of a powerhouse team, already knew the trade fairly well. His division of volleyball promotions worked closely with people he once had games with, it was always a treat to mess with them over an expensive dinner that his company would pay for. There weren’t many women in that field, so whenever one was hired it caused a stir. Kuroo thought that the stir you were causing was stupid, but that was before he saw your pretty face.

You were behind a desk, typing away at your computer. You looked so innocent, humming a little tune as your tiny fingers typed away. He approached your desk and offered you a smirk, introducing himself. He noticed how you blushed when he looked at you, like a fawn being spotted by a wolf in the forest. Fuck, Kuroo thought that was so fucking hot. But he couldn’t do anything about that, he had too much respect for you. You were just so innocent, how could he defile you?

Turns out, you weren’t as innocent as he thought. Kuroo was mindlessly swiping on Tinder when your profile popped up, displaying your curves that were barely concealed by a little red clubbing dress. ‘Only on here for some fun <3’ was all your bio said, and that made Kuroo practically jump out of his bed. His finger slid right on the phone screen and the two of you matched, causing his cock to throb in his sweatpants. Finally, he had a in. 

The harsh cracking of Kuroo’s hand against the supple skin of your ass filled his penthouse apartment, acompanied by the squelching noise of your pussy struggling to take his massive cock deeper. You had barely managed to get the tip inside, using all your strength to hover yourself above his lap. Kuroo leaned against his padded headboard, the same smirk from earlier adorning his face as he watched the lewd display in front of him. You had talked a big game in your earlier messages, so why were you struggling now. Perhaps you had bitten off more than you could chew when you decided to swipe right on his profile. “What, you’re having trouble taking all of me inside you? C’mon now baby, don’t be like that. Getting all shy again?” his words were laced with sarcasm as you shook your head, feeling your quivering legs about to give out. “I-I can take more, promise!”

Kuroo shook his head in disagreement, shifting his hands to they rested on your hips. “You looked so fucking slutty in those photos,” he teased, slamming your hips down further onto his cock. He gave you no time to adjust to his girth of length, breathing in your wanton and painful cries of pleasure and pain. “Gonna fuck you like a slut now, okay princess? Making me do all the work, typical.”

His hands slammed you up and down on his length, using your body like his own personal fleshlight. Your head was thrown back as your eyes focus on the ceiling above you, the chandelier sparking in the candlelight of his bedroom. Your tongue rolled out of your mouth, saliva dripping onto your swollen tits that were so carefully marked with Kuroo’s teeth. Just enough that you could still wear revealing clothes to work, showing the tiniest bit of cleavage.

His cock hit your G-spot perfectly each time, your sobbing cunt pulling him in deeper with each thrust inside of you. “Fuck, you’re fucking milking me baby,” Kuroo groaned, smacking your ass once more. “You want me to fill you up, huh? It that it princess? C’mon now, lemme hear you beg for my cum. Can you be a good little slut and do that, yeah? Don’t keep me waiting.” he punctuated his sentence with an incredible thrust, a wanton moan falling from your bruised lips.

“K-Kuroo! Wan’ your cum, fuck! P-please, please!” you patheically cried out, fingers scrambling for purchase in his mess of black hair. Your moans were so pretty and wet, how could he refuse his adorable little secretary? His release painted your insides with a roar, the warm sensation filling your stomach. He stopped bouncing you on his length, hands falling limp against his sides.

“Fuck,” was all that Kuroo could muster, smiling to himself as you collapsed onto his chest with his cock still nestled deep inside your creamy core. “I never knew you would be such a slut, you know? Thought you were a virgin or something.” he chuckled, kissing the side of your cheek.

“I might as well have been one, you’re fucking insane,” you mumbled against his skin, lifting your face up to look into his golden eyes. Your mascara was running and your hair was a damn mess, but Kuroo thought you had never looked as pretty as you do now. “You gotta give me some mercy next time, okay? Most girls aren’t used to your massive fucking cock.”

“Oh? There’s gonna be a next time?” Kuroo smirked and wiggled his eyebrows at you, causing you to roll your eyes in mock annoyance. 

“Hell yeah there’s gonna be a next time, that was the best sex I’ve ever had.” you smirked, playfully nipping at the cartilage of his ears.

“I can’t wait.”

[pastryfication]

fan interactions | oscar piastri

pairing: oscar piastri x shy!reader

summary: you tend to shy away from all interactions and oscar has never had a problem with that. he can’t deny that seeing you interact with his fans isn’t a sight he enjoys, though.

warnings: none!!

every race weekend you are able to attend follows a familiar pattern for you: you arrive at the track with oscar, your heart pounding with excitement and anxiety as the noise, the crowds and the high energy overwhelming you. sticking close to your boyfriend’s side, holding onto his arms or hand is the best comfort you can get. oscar’s presence beside you acts as your shield, your safe haven in the whirlwind of it all.

today is no different. as you walk through the bustling paddock, you stick close to oscar, basically hiding behind him. he holds your hand reassuringly, his touch grounding you in the chaos and you enjoy being able to cling to him. you know he understands how you feel, always making sure you’re comfortable, never pushing you to interact more than you’re ready for, and you appreciate it so much. all of your life, people have tried to force you into becoming more social, but it never helped you, only made you more uncomfortable, so oscar’s understanding means the world.

today, though, something unexpected happens. as you pass by a group of fans, one of them, a young girl with a friendly smile, catches your eye. she steps forward, her excitement palpable.

“hi!” she exclaims. “you’re oscar’s girlfriend, right?” her are eyes wide with admiration as she questions you.

you nod shyly, trying to force your voice above a whisper. “yes, i am.”

the fan beams at you, reaching into her bag. “i made this for you. it’s a bracelet with oscar’s racing colours and his number! i hope you like it.”

she hands you a beautiful bracelet woven with intricate patterns in orange and gold. your heart swells with warmth at the kind gesture. “thank you so much, it’s lovely,” you say softly, your fingers trembling slightly as you take the bracelet and slips it around your wrist.

“can i take a picture of you wearing it?” the fan asks, her eyes sparkling with hope.

overwhelmed by the attention, you try your best to seem calm and confident, but your hands are shaking slightly as you nod your head.

the fan takes a quick photo while you muster up your best smile. her gratitude is evident in her eyes as she thanks you. “thank you so so much! you’re so sweet.”

you manage a small genuine smile in return, feeling a mix of nerves and happiness. as the fan takes a step back, you turn to catch up with your boyfriend. when he feels your presence besides him, oscar turns to you, his eyes full of pride.

“you handled that so well,” he says, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “i know it’s not easy for you, but you were amazing.”

you blush, looking down at the bracelet. “i was so nervous,” you laugh awkwardly. “but she was really nice.”

oscar chuckles softly, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “you were adorable. i think it’s cute how shy you get. and i love seeing you smile like that.”

your heart flutters at his words, butterflies forming in your stomach. being with oscar made you feel so special. something about his intense attention and affection makes you feel like the most important person in the world. moments like these only work to further remind you just how deeply he understands and appreciates you. you lean into him, wrapping your hands around his bicep as you continue walking into the paddock.

“thank you,” you whisper, grateful for his constant support. “i really don’t know what i’d do without you.”

he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. “you don’t have to do anything alone. i’m always gonna be here for you.”

his promise makes a brighter, even more beautiful smile appear on your face. walking towards the mclaren hospitality, feeling his soft skin beneath your fingers reminds you just how lucky you are. the luckiest girl in the world perhaps.

[exphhoria]

Sweet as a melody

How the genshin men sound ft. Albedo, Childe, Scaramouche, Kazuha, Venti, Zhongli, Gorou, Cyno, Bennett, Aether, Xiao, Tighnari, and Kaveh

CW : Dom!reader x sub!character, Childe / Scara / Kaveh are brats, Bennett is aged up, penetration ( characters ), mention of penetration!receiving ( Childe ), light degradation ( Kazuha ), choking ( Venti ), semi-public ( Kazuha / Venti / Gorou ), overstimulation ( Zhongli ), dacryphilia ( Cyno / Bennett / Xiao / Kaveh ), breeding ( Aether ), spanking ( Zhongli ), praise ( Gorou ), edging ( Kaveh )

Albedo is all quick breaths, sharp inhales, and quiet groans, but when he’s thoroughly fucked out ( think- after an orgasm or two ), he lets out prettiest, unrestrained moans. He has a small dick that flushes pink at the tip and it’s so sensitive. Frot against it, and he’ll quickly be gasping and biting down on your neck to quiet his moans.

。。。

Childe is mostly curses, your name, and grunts and groans. After a few rounds, he can’t speak properly so all that comes out are sounds vaguely resembling words. “F-fuck y/n- do-don’t stop” “Shit, you’re tight” P.S. brat right here ! Fuck his brains out until he can’t remember any of his usual cockiness. Childe acts like he’s all that, but it doesn’t take much for him to unravel under you, begging you to let him cum.

。。。

Scara tries to act all tough at the start, putting on an act of defiance. Soon enough his “Fuck you”s and “I’m gonna kill you”s turn into loud, choked moans and pants of “a-ah! Right there” and “S-shit harderfsggs!” His pride only holds up for so long before you thoroughly ruin him ( he’s such a brat, pls put him in his place )

。。。

Kazuha has high, breathy moans. They’re not extremely loud, but not quiet either. He’s also very mischievous and not shy about telling you how you make him feel. He’ll often whisper into your ear in public, describing to you all the things he wants you to do to him. Get back at him by wrapping your arms around his waist and toying with his nipples, discreetly rubbing the sensitive buds. He’ll turn into a blushing mess, squirming and stuttering. Just know that you’ll have to take responsibility for what you started ! Pull him into an alleyway to fuck him silly. “Better keep quiet, love,” you’ll mutter, “or do you want everyone to hear what a slut you are?” He’ll do his best to keep quiet, biting down on his lip in the most seductive way as you make quick work of him.

。。。

There’s a certain bard who does not know how hold back in the slightest. Of course, this mischievous little bard is Venti. He moans like a whole ass pornstar. He’s so loud. If you don’t have sound proof walls, you’ll need to either choke him or gag him with your fingers to keep him quiet ( lest you want the whole neighborhood to know what you’re up to ). Kiss him until he’s gasping for air and his legs buckle underneath him. Venti wants everyone to know how good you make him feel, always leaving the windows open just in case someone walks by, only to see him pushed up against a wall with his legs spread wide and tongue lulling out while you pound into him.

。。。

Zhongli tries to hide his lack of composure, but when you’re filling him up so perfectly, it’s hard to keep quiet. He has these low grunts and moans that come out all pretty and broken when overstimmed. He looks so gorgeous with his back arched and ass in the air just for you. Slap it, hard, and don’t apologize after. If you spank him in public, he’ll only glare at you sternly, secretly hoping you don’t notice the subtle tent forming in his pants.

。。。

Gorou tries to stifle his moans at first, after all, he has a reputation to maintain, y’know? Especially because you always seem to want to embarrass him, dragging him into his tent and fucking him right there in the camps. It’s so hard for him to keep quiet when you’re making him feel so good, but he’ll try his best to be a good for you. Tell him how well he’s doing, staying quiet despite taking your cock and he’ll cum right then and there from the praise. When you’re alone, that’s when he can finally let loose, clawing at the sheets, your back, anything he can reach and moaning and gasping like he’s within an inch of his life.

。。。

Cyno has these soft, airy moans that drive you absolutely insane. If you’re not already, hearing his pretty little whimpers make you want to completely ruin him until the only words on his tongue are your name and his face is streaked with tears. He’s so obedient for you, not cumming unless you give him the command. It’s not his fault if he messes up and cums all over himself, not when you hit that perfect spot inside of him. Take pity and don’t punish him, okay? After all, such a good boy following your commands.

。。。

Bennett was definitely a virgin before meeting you. He cries really easily too and has these pretty little whimpers that make your dick twitch while still inside him. It doesn’t take much until he’s babbling out a broken, “A-agh! To-too much… can- can’t cum any- ah m-mmgh more.” He passes out after just a few rounds bc he can’t handle all the sensations of how good you make him feel. Manhandle him pls, he loves the feeling of losing control and letting someone have full power over him.

。。。

Aether is very vocal in bed, not bothering to mask how loud he is. His moans are high pitched and mellow, sweet as honey. He’s always trying to tell you to go faster, but he’s so far gone that the only sounds that come out are his incoherent babbling interrupted by gasps and moans as he chokes on tears. He’s such a slut, not satisfied even after cum is leaking from his hole and dripping down his thighs. Pls breed him until he’s so filled with your cum, there’s a visible bulge on his stomach. With how rough you are, he can only come up with so many excuses before his colleagues start to wonder how he’s always losing his voice !!

。。。

Inexperienced Xiao ftw !! He’s another one to have very breathy moans, lots of gasps and grunts too. In all the years he’s lived as an adeptus, he’s never had his insides so utterly wrecked. You’re just so big ! He can’t help the tears that stain his face nor the way his eyes roll back when you kiss his prostate so exquisitely. He’s quick to pass out, cum spilling out of his hole as he clenches on nothing. Keep fucking him while he’s unconscious and his eyebrows will furrow is the most beautifully delicate way.

。。。

Oh my gosh- Tighnari is so needy. You don’t have sex often, but when you do, it’s rough. After being pent up for so long, he wants to be fully ruined. He’ll whine and pant, begging you to go faster, to let him cum. He’ll claw at your back, leaving countless love bites on your neck and shoulders. The only thing he can do to stop from screaming is biting down on your tender flesh and whimpering into your neck. He’ll be too dazed to speak, only loud moans and whines coming out from his marred throat. He won’t be satisfied unless he’s cum at least 5 times. He’ll try to get up early to groom himself and get to work so you’ll just have to keep fucking him until it’s dawn and he’s passed out from pleasure.

。。。

Kaveh whimpers btw. He’s a brat too, he’ll pretend he’s tough and doesn’t like it, but when he’s close to cumming, he’ll be too busy chasing his release to keep pretending. He’s another clawer, be prepared to have your back covered in scratch marks for the next few days. It’ll look like you got attacked by a hilichurl ( or a cat ), best to just let people believe that’s the case. He likes to tease you in public so you’ll just have to punish him later by edging him until he’s sobbing and begging you to please let him cum. “P-please hic, I swear I won’t- mmMgh do it again”

©2023 exphhoria ; do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim, plagiarize, or use in any form of ai

[chamomiletealeaf]

Thinking about big dicked Simon Riley who knows how big he is and loves to tease you about it.

It's always a hassle to get you ready for him, his tip and nearly a whole bottle of lube stretching you out for what seems like forever just to take him.

He's very patient and smug the whole time while you whine frustratedly wishing you could just ride him already.

"Aww it's ok love, I know. We'll get that cute, tight, little pussy all stretched for me. Promise I'll fuck you baby." He coos with a smirk on his face. He loves being so big and making you dumb for his fat, thick cock.

When he finally gets himself inside you fully, you gasp and whine at the sudden feeling of your cunt sucking the rest of him in, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

He would definitely take pictures of how big his dick looks inside of your sweet pussy and how you take it so well for him.

When you can finally move, you start to ride him, finally being able to loosen up more than the death grip your cunt had on him not allowing either of you to move. You start to bounce on him and the two of you watch how his cock bulges your tummy.

He feels so fucking good stretching you out and hitting every spot no normal size dick, dildo, or your fingers ever could.

You bounce on his cock, eyes rolling back while tears roll down your cheeks from the pleasure while your cunt makes a sucking noise, sucking him right back in after pushing him out.

"Ooh yeah, that's a lot of fucking cock isn't it love. Taking it so well for me in that tiny little cunt." He praises with the most smug smirk on his face, watching as you near lose consciousness from how stupid his cock makes you feel.

Sucking him off and feeling the weight of him on your tongue is enough to soak your panties. He loves to tease you and smack your tongue and cheeks with his cock and how big it is making you moan.

When you finally start to suck him off you can barely even take it halfway he's just so thick, so you have to use both of your hands to take what you can't fit.

"Cock too big for that pretty little mouth? C'mon you can take it. That's it. That's my girl. Swallowing my cock down so good for me like that."

OR

Big dicked Simon Riley who is shy and self conscious about the size of his cock because he thinks it would be too difficult for someone to take :(

But as you straddle him on the couch, kissing up his neck and cooing at him, trying to convince him that he won't hurt you and you can take it, he feels a little bit more confident.

He blushes and hides his face with his arm thrown over his eyes when he feels you pull out his cock as well as the little gasp that came from you as you realized that he wasn't lying when he said he was big.

You pull him out from his jeans and he's already hard, his cock so heavy it thumps against his tummy if you don't hold it for him.

"W- We don't have to if you changed your mind, I know it's big so I could jus-" He tries to avoid eye contact with you trying to come up with another solution on how you two can still fuck but you shush him by shoving your thumb in his mouth.

He immediately quiets and sucks on your thumb as you start to pump him.

"Shh, none of that. I can take it. Gonna make you feel good honey don't you worry." You say reassuring him, and you laugh when you feel his cock twitch at your words.

He's such a sweet boy :(

[endearng]

Firsts

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Summary: You and Spencer navigate through your firsts throughout your life as childhood friends.

WC: 6k

Warnings: death, grief, use of drugs to cope with grief, uhhhh i guess that's it

A/N: HELLO!!! It's been so so long and I'm sorry I took forever to update — uni's kicking my ass but now I'll try to write a bit more during holidays season. I hope you guys enjoy this one <3 Feedbacks are highly appreciated!

| masterlist

"Do you think we'll stay friends?"

"I'm sure we'll stay friends."

For a genius, your best friend, Spencer Reid, never seemed to notice some of his speech patterns — he would echo you sometimes, which you honestly found adorably funny, and he also had a tendency for rambling, even if it wasn't that appropriate at times. When you two were alone, you didn't mind; in fact, you encouraged him and let him talk to you all the way. When there was someone else, like either of your parents or a teacher (these were your regular companions), you would try to tap him on the arm subtly so he would know when to stop. Although it broke your heart, he said himself once that he appreciated when you helped him look more normal.

Right now, things are everything but normal. Spencer had graduated high school at the age of 12 while you were still in seventh grade and he was leaving to study at Caltech. You didn't dare to compare yourself to him, but you would definitely miss him around, since he was the first person you saw everyday (besides your parents, of course) and the one who walked you to school and then went on the way to his. Right now, you are sitting on the floor of your front porch, while Spencer is laying his head on your lap and you have your hands on his hair. You always said to him that he's got nice hair, no matter how he styled or decided to cut it. He blushed every single time.

"You know… I'm gonna miss you, Spencer."

"I'm gonna miss you. But you'll still be in my life."

"Will I?"

"I'm leaving, but I'll try my best to keep in touch. We can call each other. I'll spare a couple hours of my week so you can talk to me." A small grin stretched on his lips when he mentioned talking to you. A crease made its way between your brows when you thought you'd only talk to him weekly.

Trying to play it cool, you asked, just to be sure, just to check if the pang in your heart felt less intense, less hurtful. "Will you?"

"Yes, I will."

Despite having him in your lap, you couldn't see his eyes, for they were closed in delight from your gentle touch. You saw him smile softly and you could see just how relaxed he seemed with this big change — honestly, if you were him, you'd be terrified. Quickly trying to get rid of your sad and fearful thoughts, as you ran your hands through his hair, you poorly fought the urge to chuckle when you thought about braiding his hair. He felt the air that left your lungs hit his face when you did.

Curious, as he always had been, he inquired, "What is it?"

"You'd look good with braids."

"I'm not letting you braid my hair," even if his tone was one of mock offense, a chuckle made its way out of him.

"I didn't ask to."

You saw as he bit back a grin. Little did you know, but he's is heaven, here in your presence. In dire need of some place safe to just be, without the expectations and the big things that are expected from him and to happen to him. As you unknowingly soothed his thoughts with your gentle touch, he thought about how strange it is having someone touch him and not being utterly opposed to the idea. He also thought about how, for one time in his life, he didn't know something, which was the feeling spreading on his chest. Nevertheless, there was a ghost of a small, shy smile on his face as his shoulders relaxed.

He was happy.

—

As you made your way home from your sixteenth birthday dinner, something felt odd. Looking out the window, the city lights seemed to run from how fast your dad is driving. In the backseat, all alone, you tried to figure out what made you feel so empty all night long. As the car went over a bump, you instinctively looked to the side, and then everything made sense. Spencer wasn't there. Usually, after whatever family celebration you'd go to, he would be there (because you'd insist on taking him with you), by your side in the backseat of your dad's car, laughing at whatever funny thing had happened during the event. He was your company to every single thing you did, and you had been missing him quite more often as the contact between you two became more and more scarce.

Turning to look out the window again, your mom saw the frown on your face and sighed quietly, knowing precisely why you weren't chatting like you normally did. The specific pair of ears that you wanted to be listened by were not here. And she didn't blame you one bit.

As you got home, your frown was quickly replaced by a hopeful feeling on your chest and in your features when you found a voicemail addressed to you.

Hey! I hope you get home before midnight so that you won't think, not even for a minute, that I have forgotten about you. I'm so sorry I couldn't make it! I'm really stressed right now because there are too many things happening at the same time and I'm here all by myself, so... I guess you know, better than myself, how I feel. You… You know me so well. It is nice to be known by you. Anyway... Um... I'd like to wish you a happy birthday and, ah, I also would like you to know that I wish I could have been with you today. I'm really sorry because I know how much you love your birthdays. I'm sending you a gift, but I'm not sure if it will arrive on time. I miss you. I miss you and whatever Taylor Swift song you were always humming when we were walking back from school.

Anyway, er... I miss you—hah—I don't think I'll ever be able to tell you how much I miss you. And how much I miss our time together. Uh, happy birthday!

You didn't know when, but you had teared up at some point listening to him. You didn't know whether the cause was hearing his voice again or because he remembered you or because he told you he missed your time together or that he remembered the silly songs you'd sing when you were walking back home together. Before going to bed, you let your bedside table lamp on, as you always did before so Spencer knew, from the house beside yours, that you were up or you didn't care if he called you in the middle of the night. Either way...

You were happy.

—

Underneath the Christmas tree, the glow of the warm white fairy lights you and your mom had picked out was almost blinding. Yet, you and Spencer couldn't care less. You were both too infatuated by the blinding brightness that punished your eyes to care about having problems later. Closing your eyes, you smiled to yourself, happy to be doing something so ordinary, so dumb, with your best friend. Behind your eyelids, the light was not as relentless and it granted some relief from the current sight, which sort of looked like a kaleidoscope of... white. You heard when Spencer turned his head to look at you, but you missed his soft grin.

"It was overwhelming me," you explained.

"I know." He replied, still looking at you.

Your profile, under the yellowish glow, looked almost ethereal. The slope of your nose, the curve of your lips, everything was forever ingrained into his memory. By now, Spencer could map out every single freckle on your face — especially the particular one on your lower lip. He sighed at the sheer thought of your lips. You were now seventeen and so was Spencer. Puberty had been way gentler on you than it was on him and he noticed with a blush that you were growing up, just as he was. You were a little taller, for sure, and you had put on some weight in all the right places, not to mention your style that matched your personality. As for him, he had that voice pitch swing that he hated greatly, still wore thick glasses and overall went with the nerdy stereotype that everyone picked on him for… while you looked like you were glowing.

You opened your eyes and turned to look at him. You were so close that it almost hurt. Inches separated Spencer from what he thought would be the best feeling of his life. From the person that had him lying awake for hours, tossing and turning on his bed until the sun began to rise. "I can't wait to give you your gift. I think you'll love it!"

He grinned. "I'll be happy with anything." From you, he meant to say, but he didn't finish.

You closed your eyes again, a grin of your own on your face. He wondered... What if he got closer? What if he kissed you? What if you pulled away? What if you didn't pull away? What if you cut him off?

Almost unconsciously, he inched closer and closer to the point your breaths mingled together. You didn't pull away, not even for a second. Instead, you leaned in, getting ever closer to him than you ever had been before. The fairy lights made you look even prettier than before. You looked like a dream.

"I was thinking..."

"About what?" He asked. Despite his gaze being lost in you, he was acutely aware of the words coming out of your mouth.

God, your mouth.

"It's stupid..." You muttered, looking away from his eyes.

"You know you can talk to me." It's not stupid if it's you.

"Okay... okay." You breathed in. "Me and the girls were talking about first kisses. And I felt so, so embarrassed because I haven't had mine yet."

Spencer felt dizzy. Even if he wasn't the best at social cues, if he was reading this right, you wanted him to kiss you too. He exhaled softly, trying to clear his thoughts. His voice was weak when he asked, "And?"

"Have you had yours yet? I know we talk about everything and all that, but... have you?"

He chuckled at your question. How could he, the scrawny little nerdy boy have had his kiss and you hadn't? "You're joking right?"

"I'm not! I'm genuinely curious."

He didn't know, but your heart was in your throat, too scared of a positive answer.

"I haven't had my first kiss yet."

Somehow, that did nothing to calm your racing heart. Inching even closer, you muttered, "we could have it together."

If Spencer didn't pass out with your words, he was sure he would be unshakable for the rest of his life. Whatever life threw at him, it wouldn't matter as much as this moment of sheer strength and self-control, because he didn't pull you in immediately. "Are you sure?"

"I'd be fine with kissing you. You're my best friend. I—I know you won't judge me and you know I won't judge you either. And—and... even if things are... embarrassing... i—it will still be a good memory in the… future." As your soft voice reached his ears, he felt like he was in heaven.

Your arguments for kissing him made him wonder if you had spent that much time considering it as he did. "Okay, you've got a few points. I'm—I'm not... opposed to the idea."

Your heart burned. You both inched closer and closer, a hair width separating your lips. As your eyes fluttered closed and you placed one of your hands on the back of his neck, both hesitantly and surely, Spencer mimicked you and pressed his lips to yours with the lightest pressure as his hand found your waist tentatively. Your lips felt so soft and sweet. He knew he would feel you for days — and hoped you'd feel him for days, too.

Encouraged by him, you pressed your lips a bit harder against him. He gasped softly and you took the opportunity to capture his lower lip between yours and kiss it gently. Spencer could feel his heartbeat drumming on his ears and he tightened his hold on your waist the tiniest bit. Internally, he thought he died and went to heaven and that's how he was welcomed there. Your lips fit together so nicely and he felt his heart burning for you and he knew back then that he would do anything you asked him to in a heartbeat.

You pulled back to lick your lips and fitted them into his again. He sighed, again, moving to your accord as he tried focusing on how good it felt to be kissed by you rather than how you could regret it later. Distancing yourself, your eyes slowly fluttered open, finding his dazed ones already looking back at you. You grinned at him. Another secret between the two of you; but this time, it wasn't an embarrassing one.

He smiled back.

Later that day, Spencer sat on his bed, touching his lips, feeling the tingle yours had left behind. Smiling like an idiot, he wrote that date on the wood of his nightstand, black marker holding the evidence that tonight had actually happened, if he were to ever forget. If anyone asked, well, he would have to come up with something to hide the fact that he was relentlessly in love with you, but he would replay the best memory of his life in the back of his mind as his mouth stuttered out a little white lie.

He was so confused. And screwed. And so utterly happy.

—

At Caltech, at the ripe age of eighteen, on a working day, as usual, Spencer typed aggressively on his keyboard, writing an academic paper on a topic that had come to his mind during one of his classes and later inspired fully by a conversation with this one professor. Looking at the time on his computer screen, he cursed. It was already time he was supposed to be on his way to class, which was unlike him. There was a reason, though.

Last night, he had gotten home late. He had lost track of time talking to a girl whose name was Alex. They were both at the university library, and they hit it off immediately talking about Literature and then more mundane things — he had found out that she was a high schooler having classes with grad students, just like himself a few years back. Getting home late, his entire schedule for the day ahead had been ruined, so everything felt odd as he tried to navigate through his last obligations. He had gone to bed later than usual and overslept for some reason unknown to him.

As he got up abruptly, he knocked his knee on the desk, which was now getting very small for the size he had grown into. Shutting his eyes and suppressing a whine, he breathed in. As he opened his eyes, his line of sight caught glance of one of the two only photos he had hung up on his wall. The first was him and his mother, Diana. The second was you and him.

It was short after your fifteenth birthday, and he finally had had the time to go visit. You had greeted him with a very warm hug. That very same day, you had dragged him to your bedroom, which now didn't have the pink walls and the posters of the bands you liked so much anymore. Now, the walls were a cool tone of sage green and your walls were cleaner, the posters being replaced by photos of you and your friends from school. He had felt a tinge of jealousy, noticing just how much he was missing out on your life. Despite the lingering feeling, he tried to not let it get to him.

You thanked him so much for the gift he had given you, one of those polaroid cameras. He had spent so much time saving money to get you that present. The excited, happy tone in your voice during the phone call you had made to thank him made him feel like it had been worth it to spend that much.

"Hey, here she is! I named her Marie. From Marie Curie, of course." You explained, holding your camera carefully as you both entered your bedroom

"You named 'her' Marie?"

"She has a special place on my heart."

He chuckled. "You're so material, sometimes."

"You gave it to me!"

"I gave it to you." He whispered, a hint of a smile dancing around his features.

You smiled. "Come on, let's take a picture. It's her first. I waited a whole month so you'd be here to take this photo with me. It's only fair you're the first person to be photographed with me by Marie."

"Oh... okay..."

Holding the camera with both of your hands, you held it out so that it would capture the two of you. "Smile." You said, and, without checking his pose, you pressed the button, a big grin on your face, for the photo, of course, but also from being so madly happy that you were with him again. Spencer didn't know what do to, frozen on the spot because you were so, so close. He just looked at you, dumbstruck gaze on him as he watched you smile so beautifully at the camera.

His heart was doing somersaults.

After the flash in your face, you blinked rapidly, chuckling to yourself. "Oooh. That's uncomfortable, heh." You open your eyes and the first thing you see are his beautiful hazel ones, looking straight at you, as if he didn't even blink upon the bothering aftermath of the light on your faces. You nearly had to gulp under the intensity of his gaze. Then, you quickly regained consciousness and started fanning the small piece so that the picture would appear faster.

The result was the one now stuck to his wall: you, with the biggest smile on your face and he, lovestruck, dumb, lost gaze as he looked at you.

Sigh.

Spencer quickly shook his head, not meaning to be later and even more stressed than he already was. He missed you, though. And he let himself relish in that feeling of longing for a minute. Glancing at the photo, he couldn't help but think you were already eighteen. And that he had loved you from the first time he saw you — when he was twelve.

He sat on his bed, having removed the photo from the wall. As he held it delicately between his fingers, he thought of you. He always did. In spite of being late, in spite of everything telling him he had to go through his days, he felt something tugging at his heartstrings, a longing feeling that he should be somewhere else, something that told him something, so he knew.

It was time to go.

—

Back in his hometown, even the air felt different, despite exuding an aroma that reminded him of his younger days. It had been some time since he had visited, and the distance between you and him only grew further. Driving past your house — the state of California had finally issued his license —, he saw a somewhat big crowd of people, all dressed in black.

He felt like the noise around him didn't fully reach his brain. Like he was under water.

Robotically stepping out of his car, he approached the house cautiously. Almost as instantly as your mom welcomed him, he saw you across the room, dressed in black. Bloodshot eyes found him instantly, and a flicker of relief passed your expression — unable to muster up a smile, but oh so willing to show him that you were grateful for his presence. You felt frozen to the spot and had been standing in that corner for hours. A man placed his hand on your shoulder and that's when you looked away from Spencer. He noticed it, of course, and was obliged to acknowledge the blonde man by your side. You didn't smile at him either.

Spencer approached, somewhat relieved that you were okay, but so confused and overwhelmed by the entire situation. Almost unwilling to believe whatever bad thing had happened, because he had been so happy with you in that house.

Once he was within your earshot, you greeted weakly, "Hi."

"Hi."

Silence.

"Can we talk?"

Something about the look in your eyes told him that you desperately wanted, no, needed, craved it from him, his presence. With a subtle nod, you excused yourself from the man and lead him to the backyard. Sitting on the same bench you did when it was too late and you talked about the stars together, you reveal softly as you stare into the distance, "Dad's gone."

Spencer felt like he had been punched and all the air had left his lungs after your confirmation of something he was suspecting already. Finally, he blurted out, sitting down by yourself, "W—what?"

"He didn't wake up."

"He didn't wake up?"

"No... Last night, Spencer..." You begun, your voice thick with emotion, "he said that everything was alright." You frowned, tears streaming down your face, "That he... loves... loved me and mom... and that... that had been his role on Earth."

He stood quiet, waiting for the rest of what you had to say, still shaken by the news. Your broken voice and distant gaze were enough to skyrocket the pain he felt. Spencer absolutely adored your dad, and he was one of the few that Spencer confided in wholeheartedly when things got too rough for him to bear by himself. Even though your dad was the quiet type, Spencer would go as far as saying that he was somehow his dad as well.

With your silence, he had a little time to see past the pain. Analyzing your figure, he knew. He knew you had to leave. If you decided to stay, you'd be rooted to the spot and you wouldn't be able to grow any further, forever stuck into the never ending, relentless force of grief. Spencer knew that because, besides knowing you better than anyone else, he had left in hopes to escape the person he thought he was doomed to become. Your voice brought him out of his reverie. "I laughed. I thought he was joking."

"Maybe he was joking."

"Maybe he knew he was leaving."

Silence.

You look up at him. Asking for answers. For something. For comfort.

Sitting down beside you, he held your shaking shoulders as you let tears fall freely and you lost your breath and you choked on your own saliva. An ugly, guttural, desolate crying. Spencer held you through it all — he was ready to scream at anyone on the garden if they had the nerve to go there, but, actually, in that moment, you didn't care that somebody could see or hear you. The effect of the pills your mother had given you had started to wear off and you felt things way more intensely than when she first broke the news.

Dad's gone, was all that you could hear her voice say as Spencer turned his body to fully embrace you, placing your head on his shoulder and sobbing your pain as an effort to quell the ache of your loss.

It took every single ounce of self-control for Spencer not to break down with you, because in that moment, he preferred to swallow his own pain so that he could be your safe space instead. As your sobs slowly subsided, you sighed, squeezing your eyes shut as if that would make the pain that invaded your whole body go away.

"I think..." you started, but never finished.

Silence.

"I think you should move away."

You looked at him, baffled, puzzled, hopeful.

"What?" You whispered softly.

"I think staying won't do you any good. And you know I'm right." His gaze never faltered.

You took a deep breath. "M-my mom... Spencer... she doesn't have anyone else. I-I can't do that... to her..." You gulped. The meer thought of leaving felt exhilarating, but you had to stay. You were rooted.

"Your brothers are always around." He replied.

"Not anymore. Much has changed since… since you... left."

"I didn't leave." He said, defensively.

"I didn't accuse you. At least I didn't mean to. I'm sorry."

He pressed his lips into a thin line. "Would you consider it? Leaving, I mean?" Please, say yes. Please, say yes. Come with me.

"I would... I don't know, Spencer." Your voice was broken. "Too... too much is going on. I can't just... go."

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"There's dad. And now mom. And that stupid college... I don't know where I fit." You fit next to me, he wanted to scream at you, but he realized it wasn't fair of him to demand anything from you at that moment. "I don't know what path to take without my dad here to guide me." A wet chuckle made its way out of you. He hugged you again.

On a sudden wave of boldness, he stated, "If you stay, this will be your life. If you go, you'll have somewhere to come back to if things go wrong. I—I… I know, um, that I sound very insensitive right now, but that's the truth. Why do you think I went away?"

"I can't." And your tears began again, even harder this time.

He sighed, holding you against his chest once again. Despite the unbearable pain of not being able to help, to persuade you, he decided to respect your decision.

“My father's in a casket. I have got no plans.” You muttered softly. His heart broke for you all over again.

“You've got me. And I've got you.”

Looking up at him, your eyes glimmered with hope. Desperate to believe him, desperate to leave. With him, if he'd have you.

But that wasn't how it worked.

You buried your face on his chest again, willing the tears to stop, to have some control over yourself again.

He held you through it all. He was there for you.

Spencer's stay didn't last long, even though it was filled with an unspoken, desperate beg for you to come with him, even if he didn't quite know how things would work once you accepted. After some thinking, he realized he was asking too much of you for the sake of trying to protect you from what he knew was going to happen. Losing his own father, albeit for a different reason, had changed him permanently and he was scared that you, losing yours, would turn into a different person too. The mere thought of losing you to grief was too much to handle, even if he understood that his pleas were unfair to you, not to mention absurd.

Spencer's brain was turned into a whirlwind of thoughts, all of them desperate to find a way out of this situation, to find a way out to get you out of that place — both physically and mentally. As he stood by your side during your dad's burial, he let you squeeze his hand as if that would somehow make the pain less intense for you. It didn't, but it felt nice to have someone to carry the weight with you.

—

Spencer had joined the FBI at the age of 23, when you were graduating from college. The difference was staggering and it made you laugh the same as it had when he was going to college and you were going to seventh grade. It had been years since you had last met in person, after all, Diana was the main reason he'd go to Vegas, and he didn't go there much because he was often too busy with his studies and his career. Once, he had confided in you, saying that he secretly wished that it would be enough of a good excuse to avoid seeing his mother in a facility and saving them both from the pain. Tonight, though, that would change. You were visiting him in Virginia.

A little nervous, you knocked on his door. Once he answered, you took in his appearance and your heart swelled at the sight. In your eyes, he'd always looked the prettiest, but now… It's like something had shifted: Spencer was all that you saw. And you didn't want to look at anything else anymore.

“Hi,” you greeted in a weak voice. Perhaps the intensity of your smile stole away your will to speak properly.

“You're here.” Spencer muttered, eyes filled with many emotions, but that you decided to read as relief.

“I am.”

“God, it's been so long,” he says, closing the gap between you and him, wrapping his arms around your torso, resting his head on your shoulder, not so subtly trying to smell your perfume. And failing to hide the overdrive when he noticed it was the same from all those years ago, from when you had first kissed.

Pulling away slightly, you cupped his cheeks with both hands and took in his shiny eyes, the ones that you adored so much and now met yours with a new perspective on everything. Once entering his apartment, you found that the place screamed his name, from the scattered books and the endless piles all over his living room. His TV had a documentary in a foreign language on, and you smiled to yourself. Spencer had never changed and, at his core, was still the boy you were once close friends with.

Spencer filled you in on the things you missed. You knew they were mostly about his job because he wasn't one to step out of his comfort zone — not that you'd judge him for it. “I miss having you around, tapping my arm so I know when to stop,” he revealed softly as you two shared a tub of ice cream.

Forget germs, forget pathogens, forget viruses, forget everything. She is here.

You giggled. It set his heart on fire. “Ah, Spencer… You know I only did it when other people were around. Other people are just other people. You're you. And rambling is part of who you are. Don't let that disappear.”

He smiled. You were still you.

“In fact, I have something to tell you.”

His heartbeat fastened, thinking of every possible scenario, reliving every single one of your experiences in the back of his mind. “You… you have something to tell me?” He echoed. He was still him.

Chuckling softly, “I'm glad you're still you, Spencer. I still say your name when people ask me who's my best friend. It's an excuse to relive our favorite stories as I tell them all about you.”

Spencer was left speechless, bashfully looking away from you as he resumed to talk about his days at the FBI. He told you all about his team, the people and what they found on a daily basis. “Do you think it's weird that I study what I do study?”

“No, Spence. You've always had a curious mind. Why do you ask?” You inquired back.

“I don't know… sometimes I think that people find me weird.”

“You're not,” you said, simply. “Your interests are very diverse, and anyone who talks to you will find that out. Being a profiler is not weird.”

He grinned. Your words or arguments about his insecurities throughout your friendship weren't always the most complex, but he always felt better by talking to you. He was never ashamed, never too scared of admitting something or voicing his needs. You made him feel like it was okay to speak, to want, to be. Whatever his limitations were and whatever words he left unspoken, they were never your fault. You'd never frowned at him, not once.

As the night progressed, he filled you in on what he had been doing for fun, mentioning his current readings — one of them on his nightstand. Giddily, you went over to his bedroom to find the novel that he was talking about, so that you could hear him talk about it and recite, by heart, quotes that illustrated his points and interpretation from the book. Upon entering his bedroom, you smiled to yourself. So Spencer. The sand-colored walls, the neat and clean floor, his slightly wrinkled bedsheets, a pile of laundry on top of his bed, a few scattered items on his nightstand — which, by the way, was the same in his mother's house. You had always found it amazingly pretty, the light wood and the black paint that covered the iron of the drawer pulls.

As you reached the piece of furniture and removed the book, you found something scribbled right under where the object had been lying. You were ready to give him a piece of your mind and you opened your mouth, ready to tell him not to ruin the perfect nightstand, but as you turned on the lamp to try and find out what was written there, the writing in black ink made you shiver. You fell silent. It was the date of your first kiss.

Time stopped. Why was that date written there? And why did the possibilities both scared and thrilled you so damn much? You felt someone behind you. “So, you found the book or what?” The question made its way out of his lips in a teasing tone. But, as you turned around softly, the book still clutched tightly in your hands, your eyes questioned him back. Not accusingly, only… curiously.

When he realized what you had discovered, the air left his lungs and he tried desperately to come up with an excuse. It turns out that he hadn't been asked by many people about the meaning of that date — and it's not like he had many visitors, anyway. “I… You… You… Did you… see it?” You managed to nod, weakly.

“What does it mean?” You asked, eyes never leaving his.

Looking away, he replied, “I was scared to forget.”

“Forget?” You inquired, shifting your weight.

“About it…. That night, I mean. about… us.” You gazed at him understandingly once he answered.

“About us?” Funnily enough, now you were the one parroting him. It would have made you chuckle if the situation wasn't that serious.

He breathes out, “Yeah, us.”

A beat of silence. You take a step towards him, and his breath hitches. “Have you forgotten?”

He searches your face. Upon finding nothing but support, he reveals, “There's not a single day I don't remember that moment.” You gulp and he takes a step closer, which makes your grip on the book tighten even more. You closed your eyes — a silent invitation, but it makes him falter once he doesn't have your eyes to navigate him through what he's supposed to do.

I'm glad you're still you, Spencer.

Encouraged by the memory of your words from moments ago and the presence of you, he closes the distance between you, once and for all. There's nothing that could hold him back from loving you once your lips touch and press together in a kiss that makes the book fall to your feet as your hands find their place on the back of his neck.

On any other day, Spencer Reid would be pissed upon seeing someone drop a book, let alone a considerably heavy one, on his feet — that's absurd. That moment, though, he couldn't care less as he squeezed your waist, as if trying to convince himself that you were there, that it was real, and that he finally got to do what he has always wanted.

Spencer and you had been through many firsts during the time you've known each other; some good firsts and some pretty bad firsts. But, there was a quote, from ‘Doctor Who’, that you always reminded him and yourself whenever things got too tough:

"The way I see it, every life is a pile of good things and bad things. The good things don’t always soften the bad things, but vice versa, the bad things don’t always spoil the good things and make them unimportant."

As long as he had you to soften the bad things and had your company during the bad things that made the good ones unimportant, Spencer figured that life would be a pile of more good than bad things.

[0mg-bird]

i would love it if you did a fic about bob finally introducing his shyer!girlfriend to the daggers! cute teasing, fluff, all the works <3

unrelated, but would you ever consider making a masterlist?

Hi! Thank you for the ask! And yes, I will be working on a master list soon, it just takes too much work for me to do as of this moment 😭. Bear with me y’all! I’m new at this! Anyway, here’s the story, hope you don’t hate it <3

Bob Floyd x Shy!Girlfriend Reader

“No.”

“Sweetheart.”

“Absolutely not, Robert.”

Bob sighed, leaning against the door while he watched you comb your hair. He’d brought up the idea he’d been toying with all day, only to get the answer he suspected he was going to get from you.

“Honey, it won’t be horrible. Look, the squad wants to meet you, and I want to introduce you to them."

He's hard to resist, looking at you with those puppy dog eyes of his. You understood his reasoning, but the idea of being surrounded on the beach with a bunch of cocky aviators...well, that was something you didn't really like the idea of.

You groan, looking at his reflection in the mirror before fully turning to face him. You give him a pouty look, one that makes him come forward and hold your face in his hands. "They're not gonna like me." You say, muffled from the way your cheeks are squished in his hold.

"Yes they will." He says.

"I'm boring."

"Your the most interesting thing in the world, honey."

He was always so sweet with his words, he calms your nerves every time. You know it means something to him to have his squad know who his girl is, so you try and be brave, pushing your worry out of your mind. You smile reassuringly. "Okay." You say. "It's a date."

Bob smiles, leaning down to kiss your lips, then your forehead. "It'll be a good day, I promise."

As you get into his bed, surrounded by the scent of him, he pulls you closer. "Maybe then they'll stop saying I'll never get laid." He states, making you look at him with disbelief.

"What, are we in middle school?" You ask.

He lightly chuckles. "You're gonna see the level of immaturity these guys have on Saturday, then you'll understand."

And when Saturday came, you gripped onto his hand like your life depended on it. You wore a white baby doll dress over your bikini, your sandals in your hand as you walked across the sand. As the two of you come closer, you see the group of pilots all gathered, setting up camp.

"Well, look who showed up." One of them call out as you come to join them.

You immediately blush at the amount of eyes on you They all look you over, almost like they were detectives and you were a case they needed to crack. You get introduced to them and quickly come to learn just what Bob meant, this group of the best fighter pilots in North America were no better than kids.

"I uh, I brought some snacks if y'all want some." You say, laying out multiple floral tupperware containers that were filled with homemade goods. Immediately, the boys were on it, fighting over who got what. They reminded you of seagulls.

Natasha, who was the most excited to meet the girl who Bob spoke about non stop, is yelling at the boys to mind their manners. "You wouldn't even think they were functioning adults." She jokes, making you smile.

You wait till the last minute to take your cover off, looking at the well built bodies around you made you retreat to modesty as a defense. You didn't put on your usual bathing suit because Bob said you should wear his favorite one. One that showed more skin, one that drew more attention to you. Stupidly, you agreed with him and put it on. You regret that decision now.

"Aren't you hot?" Nat asks as she pulls her tank top off.

"Oh no, I'm good." You say, giving her an awkward smile and then dig in your bag for the bottle of sunscreen.

You didn't really think it'd be embarrassing to pursue the routine you always have with Bob when you come to the beach, so as he, Hangman, Coyote and Rooster stand, talking about something way above your pay grade, you come to Bob's side. You try not to interrupt their conversation, but words slowly start to slow and they get distracted by the way you pull Bob's glasses off his face. You squirt some of the sunscreen out and into your hands, then you gently apply it to his face. The three others stop and watch, faces full of amusement as you make sure he has an even coverage. Bob doesn't mind, he was never one to be embarrassed of the loving acts you do for him, so you find it strange when you turn around and see the guys watching you.

"That's awfully sweet of you." Coyote comments, and you make the mistake of taking him literally.

"Bob, do you get your mom to fly in and do it for you when she's not around or do you just risk the sunburn?" Hangman teases, making the other two laugh.

You look at the tall aviator. "Sunscreens important, Jake, do you need some? I could help you with it or I'm sure your boyfriend here could do it for you." You say, motioning to Coyote.

Rooster bursts with laughter, wheezing at the joke you make, and behind you, Bob stands with a proud and smug look on his face.

Jake fumbles with his words, in disbelief that you’re being outspoken.

Back at your beach blanket, you clip your hair up and look around, making sure no eyes were directly on you as you pull your dress off and drop it into your bag. Any previous jokes that some of the boys made about Bob finding a goody-two-shoes for a girlfriend, are immediately regretted when they see how great you look in a bikini.

Payback looks ultimately confused. "Anyone else wondering how Baby on Board gets to sleep with a girl like that?" He asks out of ear shot from you.

"Probably because he's not a total dick like you are." Nat suggests.

"Bobby?" You get his attention as you lay on the blanket, holding up the sunscreen, silently asking him to get your back so you can tan for awhile.

At the sound of the name, some of the boys laugh, making you blush.

"Hey, Bobby, will you get my back next?" Fanboy teases, making Bob glare as he sits beside you. "Did he just glare at me?" He asks, in utter disbelief that Bob was capable of it.

Bob undoes the back of your suit, gently running his hands over your bare skin. "Are you good here for awhile? We're gonna play a game of dog fight football." He asks.

You turn your head to look at him. "I'll survive."

He ties your suit back together, then meets your lips as you lean up to kiss him.

It was peaceful, laying and watching the aviators goof around, running up and down the beach. You had no idea that the questions being asked between plays were all about you.

"What'd you do in order to win her over?" Rooster asks, grunting as he throws the football.

"I'm still trying to figure that out." Bob huffs, blocking Fanboy so he can't intercept.

"She's cute, doesn't talk much though." Fanboy adds.

"She does, just not to people she barely knows." Bob defends.

As Hangman runs by, he pauses. "Be honest with us, Bobby, you ever get bored of her?"

Bob looks at him like he's crazy. "Never. One of these days, Hangman, you'll learn that crazy bar girls don't make girlfriends. Maybe my girl's shy but she's a whole lot better than whatever new girl you can't make stick around."

The ones around them laugh at Hangman getting called out for the second time today.

"Jokes aside." Rooster says. "I'm happy for you, man, she seems good to you."

Bob looks back at you lazily reading a book, your feet kicking back and fourth in the air behind you. "Yeah, I really like her...actually I'm gonna ask her to move in."

They all gasp.

"We'll say a prayer for you man." Coyote shakes his head.

At some point, you had rolled onto you back and let your hair down, sunglasses on your face as you rest your eyes. Though, your sun is covered by a shadow after a while. You open our eyes, gazing up at the man who's standing above you. You prop yourself up on your elbows.

"Hi." You grin, watching as Bob pulls his sweaty shirt off, revealing his toned upper body. You move your sunglasses down your nose to get a better look, then take them off entirely.

"Hey, you ready to go into the water?" He asks, making you shake your head.

"I'm good on dry land, sailor."

Bob gives you a smirk. "Now, that's just not going to do."

"I'm okay here, Bobby, go have fun with your squad, they're already in the water." You say.

"So you want me to join them and leave you here?" He asks, making you nod in agreement.

He hums, pausing before leaning down and scooping you into his arms. You gasp, flailing in his hold but his grip is too strong. "Bobby, no! Put me down!"

"Not a chance."

You form a death grip, arms holding tightly around his neck as he makes it to the water with you. "Don't do this." You laugh loudly.

"Are you ready?" He asks.

"No! Bobby!"

He loosens his grip, pretending to drop you, making you yell and tighten your grip around him even more. The dagger squad starts chanting ‘overboard’, and you feel the cool water slosh up against you as Bob walks further in.

“Bobby!”

“One.”

“No, baby, please.”

“Two.”

“Robert Floyd!”

“Three!”

He falls sideways into the water with you, making you sink under before you pop back up, wiping your eyes. You can’t help but laugh, splashing him as he pops up in front of you.

“I can’t believe you.” You say, wrapping your arms around him.

He grins boyishly. “Sorry, honey.”

The squad watches as the two of you swim beside each other.

“So…Bob is getting laid.” Coyote says.

“He’s the only one who is.” Rooster adds.

[inkdrinkerworld]

spencer with an alt gf who's got tattoos, piercings, dyed hair and all that. i don't really mind what you do with it im just yearning for my man rn

Spencer introduces his gf to the team.

“Spencer stop fidgeting, you’re making me nervous.” You and your boyfriend are sat in a restaurant waiting for his teammates to arrive.

Spencer and you had hit the year mark and he’d finally felt it was time for his team to meet you.

They know he has a girlfriend, of that he’s never been shy about flaunting, but they’ve never actually met you.

“Sorry, sweetheart. Want another lemonade?” You shake your head, leaning into him to kiss his cheek.

“I’m okay Spence, it’s gonna be great.” You hope it will be. You want his friends and coworkers to like you but even you can realise how different you and Spencer are appearance wise.

Spencer’s all sweater vests and cute ties and cardigans, and you’re all visible tattoos, bright colored tops that stop over your naval to reveal a pretty piercing with a shell dangling on it and distressed jeans.

“Well hello pretty boy!” You recognize him as Derek. “And hello, pretty boy’s girlfriend.”

“Hi, Derek right?” He nods and you introduce yourself, Penelope right behind him and she can’t contain her grin.

“Oh you’re a badass, I already know it.” She says, pulling you in for a hug that you eagerly reciprocate.

JJ and Emily are next and then Hotch and Rossi.

“Where did you two meet?” Rossi asks and Spencer begins recalling the details of how you bumped into him on the subway, headphones on and how he’d helped you steady yourself while giving you all the details of how that was dangerous.

“It probably wasn’t the best first impression but I took his advice. And then we saw each other at that cute cafe and I had to give him my number because it was clearly not coincidental.”

Hotch smiles as you talk, a silent message passing between him and Spencer.

“It doesn’t bother you that he’s always away?” Derek asks and you shake your head.

“I’m not always easily available either,” his team frowns. “Spencer didn’t tell you?” You turn to him and find him blushing and you smile.

“I’m a linguist so most days I’m studying or teaching a class about what I’m studying. I also teach little kids a second language of their parents’ choosing. It’s a hard balance, but it’s fun.”

Rossi and Derek’s smiles are probably the widest. “You’re badass.” Derek says and you smile, cheeks hurting from his sincerity.

Emily chimes in for the first time, “Where do you get your tattoos done? They’re pretty cool.”

You grin again, Spencer chuckling when you say, “They also deter cannibals.”

Penelope and Hotch smile, “So you’re a not so secret nerd?” You shrug, not really knowing if you’d qualify.

“I mean, Spencer tells me crazy facts that I whip out sometimes but mostly I just have a couple things I like.”

The night ends spectacularly and Spencer can’t stop smiling as he walks with you. “So they’re nice,” you tell him and he nods.

“They all love you.” You feel your nerves release at that. “I think the girls will be inviting you to their monthly girl’s night soon enough.”