#i gave you nothing as that's how i roll now

[mggslover]

learning sign language so you can make inappropriate comments to spencer while at work and you sign “want to suck your cock” and spencer just looks at you all bewildered like “since when did you know ASL?”

dirty talking to spencer in ASL genre: sfw with sexual innuendos word count: 1,8k a/n: a lil something while i'm working on kinkfest :)

Spencer Reid is a man of many talents. People say — well, specifically, Spencer once told you that learning a new skill is easiest around the age of ten and how the process will be more difficult once you reach the age of eighteen. Something about neural connections forming rapidly, the unconscious system, the critical period… To be honest, you lost your focus the moment he mentioned the new skill he’d learned: sign language. 

Spencer was excited to tell you about this new skill. He already knew a handful of languages, from Russian to Yoruba, but what appealed to him most about ASL was the hand motions. How he didn’t need to pronounce any of the words. You still chuckle to yourself when the memory of him pronouncing a Spanish sentence pops up in your head. How vividly you could picture Elle correcting him. There was nothing funny about him using ASL, though. In fact, you remember the way your throat tightened and your cheeks heated when his hands started moving — long fingers, decorated in veins, flexing into different symbols at a speed that other beginners would envy.

“That means ‘I love you, and that sweater looks pretty on you’.”

You had laughed. Had leaned in to press a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you,” you replied. A hot pink flush made its way onto his face, a shy smile tugging on his lips. 

“Does this mean you’ll be speaking to me in sign now?”

Your comment was meant as mere teasing, but Spencer had taken it as a challenge. He’d made sure to at least communicate a couple of ASL sentences to you every day. You could imagine it being a good way of practice for him. For the both of you, actually. Because over time you started to recognize some of the movements. A sign you had mistaken as rock and roll before, you had now concluded meant I love you. A swipe of his hand over his face? Pretty. There were a few others you could recognize, but as the sentences grew longer and his signs faster, you gave up.

You had always assumed everything Spencer signed to you was something sweet. You’d smile, kiss him as a thank you, and forget about it, assuming he was complimenting you. That was until Derek caught Spencer in the act, signing something to you before the elevator doors closed in front of him, ready to head over to the lab for another case you were on. 

“My man,” Derek chuckled heartily, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe what had just happened.

Your brows furrowed, the smile that had lingered on your face moments before dropping instantly. “What?”

He kept laughing, not noticing the clear confusion you were in.

“Derek!” you said, giving a soft punch to his arm to catch his attention.

“Oh, you don’t-” He raised an eyebrow, pointing to you and the closed elevator doors before laughing even harder.

“Stop it!” You cried, getting embarrassed by the scene you were causing in the middle of the bullpen. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, pretty girl,” he started, taking a deep breath to recover, still grinning widely. “Pretty Boy over there should be getting the title of Dirty Boy from now on.”

Your mouth opened, then quickly closed when no words came out. “I don’t understand.”

Derek looked around the bullpen, finding no one near. Still, he leaned in, shielding his mouth with his hand as he recited Spencer’s words to you.

You gasp, hand clutching your chest dramatically as if starring in a soap opera. “He didn’t,” you say in full disbelief.

“Oh, yes he did,” Morgan smirked in full pride.

“How would you even know that?”

“My buddy works at a youth center. I teach the kids football from time to time. Some speak ASL.”

You scoff. “Kids have taught you these words?”

Derek shrugs. “What can I say? It’s the dirty words that are most fun to learn.”

-`♡´-

You had struggled to think of anything else after that encounter, your mind wandering to every possible naughty sentence when Spencer signed to you from then on. It was frustrating, really, how he must be gleaming knowing you had no clue what he was saying. As long as he knows that you’re also up for a challenge. 

After work that day, you told Spencer you’d be home later, having to pick something up from a friend’s house. It wasn’t completely a lie — you had to pick something up, just from a different location. You parked your car in the parking lot in front of the public library, feeling like a criminal as you knocked on the glass doors. A woman in her late sixties greeted you, her kind beady eyes framed by thin glasses that hung low on her nose.

“You’re the one who called? From the FBI?”

You nodded, smiling. “Hi, yes, that’s me. I am so sorry to be bothering you at this hour, but we’ve got a killer on the loose, and it’s very urgent.”

The older woman cringed at the mention of a killer, muttering some words under her breath, and turned to grab an entire stack of books. You reached your hands out, accepting the heavy weight of the books, the title A Beginner’s Guide to ASL written on the top one. 

Her hand trembled lightly as she tapped the front cover. “This one comes with a DVD.”

“Oh, that’s perfect. Thank you for your help.”

“You better catch that bastard!” You nodded confidently in response as you turned on your heel.

-`♡´-

Unfortunately, Spencer was right: learning a new language as an adult was far from easy. Especially with the lack of time you had because of working a demanding job. You had to make do with the rare free weekends and some late nights during the week to study as much as possible.

You were tucked underneath a blanket on the couch, laptop in your lap, as you were watching a YouTube video Derek had recommended: “Sign Dirty to Me: A Guide to Dirty Talk in Sign Language”.”

“The next sentence we’ll be learning is ‘I want to give you a blowjob’.”

“A what?” 

You screeched, lifting yourself up on the couch at a speed that made the laptop fall on the ground with a thud. You mutter a string of curses as the video continues playing, using your foot to stomp the laptop shut.

“Jesus, Spencer, can’t you knock?”

You turn your body, spotting your boyfriend's tall figure leaning against the open bedroom door, an amused smile lingering on his lips. “I think you’ve forgotten that you’re in my house.”

You groan at his smug grin, trying to find an excuse. 

“What were you watching anyway?” He asks in curiosity before you could explain.

“Nothing!”

He takes a stride toward you, and you scramble from the couch to grab the laptop, holding it tight in your arms as a safety measure. Spencer leans on the plush frame of the couch, appearing rather relaxed as a gleam sparkles in his eyes. “Don’t tell me you were watching-”

“No!” You exclaim in offense.

“I wouldn’t mind it if you were.”

“I was not watching anything.”

The content look doesn’t fade from his face. He looks rather pleased by the scene you’re making. The tips of his fingers brush against the bare skin of your arm. Those damn fingers. “I don’t mind, angel. I would just offer you my help instead.”

You swallowed. He was distracting you, and you were not going to fall for his dirty ploys yet again. No way.

“I’m good,” you squeak, hurriedly standing up from the couch. You point at him while your other hand clutches your laptop. “I will go to the bedroom now, and you will stay here. Don’t even think about moving an inch.”

Your words were only making you sound more suspicious, but you didn’t care. It would be worth it in the end.

-`♡´-

Two weeks had passed since you and Derek had exposed Spencer’s dirty, little secret. Two weeks in which you had spent all your free time learning ASL. You had been nervous all morning while getting ready for work, trying to resist the urge to sign something to him. But you wanted to do it in the bullpen; you needed to see him get flustered in a crowd. 

Your fingers had been nervously tapping on your desk, eyeing Spencer at his desk opposite yours. You were waiting on Derek, who you had promised could be there for the “big moment”. 

“Where are we going?” Penelope’s voice sounded through the bullpen as Derek grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the desks. You throw your hands up in frustration, it wasn’t the plan to make it that big of a show. “Are you kidding me?” You mouth toward Derek.

“Now,” he mouths back as he stays at a safe distance against the far wall.

Here we go.

A single kick to Spencer’s shin was enough to grab his attention. “Ouch! What did you do that for?”

Biting down on your lip to hide your smile, you began moving your fingers, a little exaggeratedly, to make sure he understood. 

Look what new skill I learned.

Spencer beams, smiling brightly as the realization dawns upon him. “Hey! Since when did you know ASL?”

You don’t give him an answer right away, not wanting to get out of your flow, so you continue signing the variety of sentences you’ve learned, each one even dirtier than the last.

You knew you were doing a good job when a few snorts came from your right at certain words, Derek understanding what you were saying. Looking at Spencer confirmed it — his eyes stood wide open, red blotches of heat forming on his neck as his lips moved in a struggle to find the words.

Stop it. Right now. He eventually signed.

You grin, pride washing over you as you can understand him. This new method of communication truly opens up worlds.

But I mean it. You sign back.

He hides the small smile that forms on his face, tugging away a piece of hair before finding the courage to respond back to you.

What else would you like to do, then?

Penelope nudged Derek, looking puzzled. “What are they doing? Are they…? Oh my god, they’re trying to get in each other’s pants? Right in front of us?!”

Derek threw his head back laughing. “That’s right. They’re not so innocent anymore, huh?”

“But dirty talk is our thing!” Penelope protested.

Derek shakes his head. “I hate to break it to you, baby girl, but they’re outdoing us.”

[willowsnook]

could you write something cute about the reader and Lando please, maybe something funny where the reader says "oh yeah I'll do this but for that you'll buy me a Porsche" and Lando actually buys her a car

lando norris x gf!reader

—————————————————————

“I’ll do it if you buy me a Porsche,” you said exasperated after having the same argument with Lando. His eyes widened at your statement before a mischievous smile snuck up on his face.

“Done,” he boasted and you rolled your eyes before muttering a ‘whatever’ and going back to reading your book.

For months, Lando had been begging you to come skiing with him, Max, and Pietra. You did not want to go at all; nothing against anyone going, but you just weren’t interested in learning how to ski. Your family was a beach family; not adrenaline junkies like Lando was.

A few days later you had forgotten about the argument all together until you came into the kitchen to find Lando smiling like the cheshire cat.

“You look like a creep, what’s wrong with you?” You asked and he shrugged off your insult, holding a bag out to you.

“For you baby,” he said and you could tell he was doing everything in his power to contain his excitement. You took the bag warily, opening it to find a pair of gloves along with ski goggles.

“No,” you said simply, handing him the bag back but his grin didn’t waver.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he said, wagging his finger at you. “Look in the garage.”

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously at him before making your way to the garage, Lando following closely behind with barely contained excitement. When you opened the door, your jaw dropped. There, in the middle of the garage, was a sleek white Porsche with a giant red bow on top.

"You didn't," you whispered, turning to Lando with wide eyes.

"I did," he grinned, dangling a set of keys in front of you. "A deal's a deal, right?"

You snatched the keys from his hand, still in disbelief. "I was joking, Lando! You actually bought me a Porsche?"

"Well, technically it's a Porsche Taycan. Fully electric, better for the environment," he explained, watching as you circled the car in awe. "I figured if I was going to buy you a car, you’d want it to be something like that.”

“God you are unbelievable,” you muttered as you came back over to him. “Good thing you’re pretty.”

Lando smirked and wrapped his arms around your waist. “So… does this mean you’re coming skiing?”

You gave him a look. “No. It means I’m driving the Porsche to the mountain lodge and then sitting by the fire with a book and a hot chocolate while you launch yourself off cliffs.”

He pouted. “You have to ski at least once. You said—”

“I said I’d go skiing,” you interrupted, holding up a finger. “Not do skiing. Words matter, Norris.”

Lando opened his mouth to argue, then paused. “You know what? Fine. I got you the car. You show up, wear the goggles for five minutes, and I’ll count it as a win.”

You leaned up and kissed his cheek. “See? Look at us. Compromising. Growing.”

He sighed dramatically. “I should’ve just bought you snow boots and lied about the Porsche.”

You laughed, slipping into the driver’s seat to admire the interior. “Too late now. This baby’s mine.”

[riddlesrizzler]

𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚, 𝙇𝙪𝙘𝙠, 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙇𝙖𝙙𝙮𝙗𝙪𝙜𝙨

pt. 2 of Girl in the Bumblebee Tights

summary: Mattheo Riddle never cared for luck, until he met a certain Hufflepuff

characters: mattheo riddle. hufflepuff! reader. mentions of slytherin boys

warnings: none, just cute fluff of matty falling for a hufflepuff.

word count: 2.0k

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

Mattheo was not the type of guy to go out of his way for anyone. If he wanted something, he took it. If something-or someone-intrigued him, he made them come to him. That was just how it worked.

Until you.

You, with your whimsical clothes and dreamy expressions, drifting through the halls of Hogwarts like a soft breeze, entirely unbothered by the sharp edges of the world.

You, with your quiet hums and distracted little twirls, always getting lost in your own thoughts.

You, with your absurd collection of trinkets, bumblebee-striped tights, and firm belief that certain objects could bring fortune.

And now, Mattheo-a boy who prided himself on never chasing-was actively seeking you out.

At first, he told himself it was just curiosity. Something about the way you floated through life made him want to get closer, to see what made your mind tick.

That was before he started doing utterly ridiculous things just to get your attention.

Like wearing socks that didn’t match.

Today, they were obnoxiously bright-one orange with tiny broomsticks, the other purple with crescent moons. A hideous combination, and yet, you had complimented them the moment you slid into your seat beside him in class.

“Oh!” You had gasped, eyes widening as you pointed at his feet. “Those are brilliant.”

Mattheo smirked. Hooked you. “Yeah?”

You nodded your head with excitement before asking him where he had purchased them, so you could get some of your own.

And just like that, he was completely gone for you.

The next week, he made it a point to sit next to you in every class. Not that you seemed to notice what he was doing.

No, you just gave him that same sweet, absent minded smile every time, like he had always been there.

Then he started showing up in places he didn’t normally go.

The greenhouses. The library. Merlin help him, he even went to Divination, sitting stiffly in a chair while you babbled excitedly about tarot cards and the movement of the stars.

-

Draco, Theo, Enzo, and Blaise had a field day teasing him.

“You’re pathetic,” Theo drawled, watching as Mattheo not-so-subtly followed you out of class.

“I think it’s sweet,” Blaise smirked. “Our little Mattheo, whipped.”

Mattheo shot them a glare but didn’t deny it.

Because it was true.

But then he found out about Neville Longbottom… it seemed like all hell would break loose.

“Wait,” Mattheo said flatly, cutting Theo off mid-sentence. “Who?”

Theo snorted. “Neville Longbottom. You know, the Gryffindor? The one who keeps fumbling through Potions?”

Mattheo rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I know who he is. What about him?”

Draco smirked. “Oh, nothing. Just that he’s been following your little Hufflepuff around like a lovesick puppy.”

Mattheo stiffened. “What.”

“Seen them chatting between classes,” Enzo added. “She likes him, I think.”

And just like that, something hot burned in Mattheo’s chest.

Because, oh no, no.

You were his.

-

Mattheo needed help. Which meant doing something he never thought he’d do-asking Luna Lovegood for advice.

Luna, your best friend, was just as whimsical as you were. Maybe more. She drifted through life like a ghostly little moonbeam, spouting strange facts and wearing radish earrings.

She also, unfortunately, knew everything about you.

Which made her the perfect person to go to.

Mattheo found her in the courtyard, seated on the grass, reading upside down.

“Lovegood,” he greeted.

Luna slowly turned her book the right way. “Mattheo,” she said serenely.

“I need information.”

She blinked at him, expression unreadable. Then, without missing a beat, she said, “You want to know how to win her over.”

Mattheo scowled. “Am I that obvious?”

Luna hummed. “Only to those who see things others don’t.”

“Right,” Mattheo muttered. “So? Got anything useful?”

Luna studied him for a long moment before smiling. “She loves luck.”

Mattheo frowned. “Yeah, I know that.”

“But do you understand it?” Luna tilted her head. “She sees luck in the little things. Socks. Stars. Coins on the ground. The world is full of lucky signs, if you just notice them.”

Mattheo considered that.

Luna continued, “If you want to make her happy, get her something lucky. She'll take it as a sign.”

Mattheo’s brain spun.

And then-an idea struck.

-

Usually, Mattheo Riddle did not do gift-giving.

It wasn’t that he couldn’t afford it-his family had more than enough money-but the idea of getting something heartfelt for another person was just… foreign. He had never needed to try before. People fawned over him regardless.

But you? You were different.

Which was why he was standing in the middle of Hogsmeade, scowling, as he mentally went through everything Luna Lovegood had told him.

"She loves luck," Luna had said. "If you want to make her happy, get her something lucky. She'll take it as a sign."

That had been maddeningly unhelpful. Mattheo wasn’t some mystical force of fate-he was just a boy with a sharp tongue and an even sharper wand.

But you-you saw the world differently. You found meaning in the smallest things. The moon on a pair of socks, the way the wind blew through the trees, the way certain numbers seemed to follow you.

You believed in luck.

And he wanted to give you something that made you light up.

But what the hell was lucky enough?

He sighed, dragging a hand through his hair as he strolled down the street. Every shop he passed seemed wrong.

Quidditch gear? No. Jewelry? Maybe, but you weren’t the type for expensive trinkets. Chocolate? Too simple.

He needed something meaningful.

Then, he saw it.

A tiny, tucked-away shop with an old wooden sign that read Brood and Peck. The windows were cluttered with mismatched objects- crystal balls, antique books, potion bottles of questionable origins.

It looked like the kind of place that probably sold cursed items alongside regular ones, but it also seemed like the type of place you would love.

Mattheo stepped inside, the bell above the door chiming.

The shop was dimly lit, the scent of old parchment and dried herbs filling the air. He wandered through the shelves, scanning the odd assortment of items.

And then-he saw them.

A neatly folded pair of red tights with black spots.

Like a ladybug.

His lips twitched.

He could hear your voice in his head, bright and excited: "Do you know how lucky ladybugs are? They’re extra fancy luck!"

It was perfect.

He grabbed them immediately, heading to the counter where an elderly witch peered at him over her glasses.

“A fine choice,” she said, eyeing the tights with a knowing look.

Mattheo rolled his eyes. “Just ring me up.”

She chuckled but did as he asked, wrapping them carefully before handing them back.

As he stepped outside, the cold air biting at his cheeks, he found himself smiling.

Because he knew-the moment he gave them to you, you were going to light up like the bloody sun.

And maybe, just maybe, you’d finally realize how much he adored you.

-

Later that day, Mattheo found you in the courtyard.

With Neville.

Mattheo narrowed his eyes as he approached, heart thudding as he caught the tail end of your conversation.

“…ladybugs,” you were saying, voice warm. “They’re good luck, you know.”

Neville chuckled nervously. “I-I didn’t know that.”

Mattheo cleared his throat, stepping between you both with an easy smirk. “Sorry, Longbottom. Borrowing her.”

Neville blinked. “Oh. Uh-”

You tilted your head, blinking up at Mattheo. “Borrowing me?”

Mattheo threw an arm around your shoulders, steering you away before Neville could protest. “Yup.”

Neville frowned. “Oh, um. Alright then.”

Once Neville was out of earshot, you looked up at Mattheo, entirely unbothered. “Was that necessary?”

Mattheo grinned. “Extremely.”

You didn’t argue, just hummed thoughtfully. “Well, what are we doing?”

“I got you something.”

Your eyes widened. “A gift? For me?”

“Obviously.”

Mattheo reached into his pocket, pulling out a neatly wrapped package. He handed it to you, watching as you carefully unwrapped it.

The moment the fabric was revealed, you gasped.

“Mattheo!” you squeaked, holding up the tights. “They’re red with black spots! Like-”

“Like a ladybug,” he finished.

You beamed, eyes practically glowing. “Do you know how lucky these are? Ladybugs super lucky! I was just talking about this with Neville! It must be a sign or something!”

Mattheo smirked. “Figured you’d like them.”

“Like them? I adore them!”

And then, before he could react, you threw your arms around him, hugging him tight.

Mattheo froze.

Then, slowly, he wrapped his arms around you, sinking into the warmth of you.

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him with wide, happy eyes. “These are better than my bumblebee tights!”

His heart stuttered.

“Yeah?” he murmured, voice rough.

You nodded, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.

And Mattheo...

Mattheo knew, right then and there, that he was completely and hopelessly in love with you.

[lechrts]

I Wait For You. ✷ Paige Bueckers

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Roommate!reader

Summary: When she comes home and overhears a certain conversation not meant for her ears.

Word Count: 900+

Disclaimer/s: fluff. I guess. idk i’m just gay i was geeked.

Vera’s Voice! PLEASEEEEEE i love this trope. I ABUSE IT. okay yeah. enjoy. Smooches. Happy Elite Eight. go huskies. i love you Usc but that natty is HERS. ALRIGHT. please (Ok knocking on wood bc i don’t wanna jinx anything idk please kill me km stressed. Also another paige blurb should be out ina but too. Yeah. Ok byyyeee

Paige was exhausted.

Practice had run late—again—pushing her body to its limits, leaving her legs aching and her shoulders tight with fatigue. By the time she finally made it home, all she could think about was a hot shower and sinking into bed.

The shared apartment was quiet, dimly lit by the glow of a single kitchen light you had probably forgotten to turn off before retreating to your room.

Paige kicked off her sneakers near the door, dropped her duffel bag carelessly in the hallway, and stretched her arms over her head with a quiet groan.

She knew you were still awake—your bedroom door was cracked open, a faint sliver of warm light spilling into the hallway.

Normally, she would’ve called out to let you know she was home, but the soft hum of your voice gave her pause.

It wasn’t the usual idle chatter she heard when you were on FaceTime late at night. There was something different in your tone—something soft, almost wistful. Paige hesitated for only a second, then took a step closer, just enough to hear.

“I don’t even know why I think about this stuff,” You muttered, the frustration in your voice clear. “Like, my brain just makes up these dumb scenarios, and then I wake up all flustered like an idiot.”

Paige felt curious.

What were you talking about?

More importantly, why did the idea of you waking up flustered because of someone else make her stomach twist?

Your friend’s amused voice crackled through the speaker. “Okay, okay, but what was the dream?”

A pause.

Then, finally, a groan. “It’s so dumb.”

Paige bit the inside of her cheek, waiting.

“We were at this drive-in movie,” You admitted, voice lower now, like you were reluctant to share. “One of those old-school ones, with the huge projector screen and string lights. And we had, like, a whole setup in the back of a truck. Blankets, snacks, the whole thing. And she—” You hesitated.

Paige barely breathed.

“She kept doing that thing where she acts all smooth, but it’s, like, genuinely cute.” Your voice softened at the memory, like you could still feel it. “She’d steal my popcorn, bump my shoulder, put her arm around me like it was nothing.”

Paige’s pulse spiked.

She?

She.

“Wait who? Paige?!” The other of the end call spoke up—and at that point. The blonde in question was geeked.

You shushed your friend, nervous at how loud her end of the call was but you were still convinced you were home alone…

Little did you know though.

Paige had to bite back the grin threatening to creep onto her face, her exhaustion momentarily forgotten.

“And girl.. like, right at the end, when the credits were rolling, she just—ugh, it’s so cringe.”

Your friend snorted. “She what?”

“She kissed me,” You admitted. Quiet. A little breathless. “Like, not even in a dramatic way. Just soft, easy, like it was the most natural thing in the world.”

Oh.

Oh, shit.

Paige felt like her heart had just stopped.

She knew she had been flirting with you. At least, in the way she could—casual teasing, lingering touches, stealing your snacks just to get a rise out of you.

But she had never been sure if you picked up on it. If you even wanted to pick up on it.

But this?

This was confirmation in the best way possible.

You had dreamt about her. About being with her. And not in some vague, meaningless way—you had imagined the details. The way she’d hold you, touch you, kiss you.

Paige had never felt so pleased with herself in her life.

Before she could get caught standing there like an idiot, she forced herself to move, slipping into the living room and collapsing onto the couch like she had been there the whole time.

She flicked on the TV, pretending to be lost in the NBA game flashing across the screen, even though her mind was racing.

A minute later, she heard your bedroom door creak open.

Then—soft footsteps padding toward the kitchen.

“Oh!” You seemed startled. “Didn’t know you were back.”

Paige barely spared you a glance, keeping her expression cool and relaxed, trying to act nonchalant. “Yeah, got back like five minutes ago.”

You hovered for a second, nodding with a simple shrug before slipping into the kitchen, opening the fridge, pretending like your hands weren’t shaking as you reached for something.

Paige let you stew in it for a moment, just because she could.

Free will and all that.

Then, right as she heard the fridge door close..

“Hey, by the way—”

She didn’t turn, but she knew you froze. She could feel it.

“There’s this drive-in movie showing tomorrow a couple towns over,” She said, voice casual, almost bored.

Like this wasn’t about to wreck your entire world.

The silence stretched. “If you’re down, Im down.” Paige bit her lip, barely holding back her smirk.

“And I can kiss you during the credits, if you’d like that too.”

And everything around you literally crumbled.

Oh my god.

likes, comments, & reblogs are appreciated! ^_^ and pls Lmk if you wanna be apart of my permanent tag list for wbb!!!!

tags! @halfwayhearted @pedriache @wdcbox

[hitomisuzuya]

Hi! :D can I request a smut for Scara being the personal knight for the princess with him now being in charge unlike the day when he has to follow the princess's orders? Sorry if something is confusing I'm not very confident when I write in english

scaramouche x fem!reader. smut. thigh riding. scara drunk on power. very very minor degradation.

don't worry, i understood your request perfectly ❤️

only the strongest knight in the land could be the personal knight for the princess. scaramouche did his job, and did it well. all while falling infuriatingly in love with you.

but eventually, he snapped and decided enough was enough. it's not that you treated him badly or anything. oh no. he just wants it all, the throne and you. and he remembers the night he decided he wanted it all.

you'd just got gotten into a fight with your father, and once you fled to your chambers afterwards with him in tow, you'd looked at him with tearful eyes and said in the sweetest voice, "please, make me feel better."

as your knight, he couldn't refuse a plea from his princess. scaramouche spent a long and blissful night with his head between your thighs, licking and tongue fucking your cunt until you passed out from orgasm. tasting you, lapping at your release like a starved dog made him realize he wanted it all. badly

he also has a forced arranged marriage to stop. you poor thing, you are only now just realizing you are nothing but a political bargaining chip for your father to sell away.

scaramouche couldn't fucking have that.

he planned his coup d'état very thoroughly, and it had been surprisingly easier than he thought. and killing two birds with one stone, your "fiancee" got erased. planned collateral damage. dealing that blow with his own hands had been incredibly satisfying.

too bad for your dearly departed father, the stupid fool who dared try taking you away from him didn't know a thing. not even about the stolen kisses in the gardens. or about the time you wanted to repay your precious knight for making you feel better that night by sucking his cock dry.

scaramouche supposed fool always die in ignorance.

and now, sitting on the throne that he thought quite frankly was made for him, he is reaping the fruits of his labor.

you are sitting naked, straddling his thigh. your pussy lips open and drooling on his thigh, it is remarkable to him how fast you are soaking on it. the only help scaramouche gave you was a steadying hand on your hip, the other one teasing and pinching your nipples.

it's intoxicating to him to sit back and witness just how badly you want him. his cock aches, leaking precum watching you grind your pussy into a soaking wet mess on his thigh.

you mewl as he rolls your hardening nipple between the pads of his fingers. "this is how it always should've been, no?" he purrs, taking his hand off your hip and curling an elegant finger under your chin.

though it stretches his ego to see your eyes hungrily plastered to his thick cock, he need more from you. "look at me, my pretty queen," he directed your gaze to his eyes, grinding his thigh on your throbbing clit. "i want to see the desperation to cum well in those gorgeous eyes."

the look of adoration in your eyes only pools deeper for him. your back arches as your hips jerk to grind your clit on his thigh. "can i cum on your cock now, my lord?" you bring your head in kitten lick his mouth submissively, "my king. i..i really need it."

scaramouche's cock throbs stronger at your words. his hand tightens on your chin. "patience, patience. i am having way too much fun with my newfound power," he gives your nipple a firm pinch, sending strong shocks of pleasure to your clit. "now, i believe your king has issued you an order, have i not?"

a blush dusts your cheeks as you nod, a new pool of wet seeping onto his thigh. "cum all over your king's thigh. make yourself gush as an offering to me," his words send a whole new coil of arousal through you. "whimper with need for me behind those pretty, slutty moans."

a whine keens from your throat. your walls are spasming around nothing. "mmph, but i want you so bad," a smack on your ass echoes through the throne room.

scaramouche grits his teeth. how dare you sound so cute and make him break his composure. "hold onto me," he orders, smirking when you loop your arms around his neck without hesitation. "i want to make you cum, so be a good girl and relax."

he smirks hearing you moan louder at being asked to be a good girl. his words make your pussy pulse stronger. "o-okay," you moan is whimper tinged, just like he asked for.

keeping his hands on your hips, he guides your pace, soaking in every last noise you make for him as he edges you closer to cumming. the amount of control he has, right down to the pressure of his thigh on your clit is intoxicating. "good girl, good girl. you are so close," he croons seeing you begin to twitch as your thighs quake.

he squeezes your hips before he stops all your motion, holding you still while he grinds his thigh on your clit. your gasp of pleasure rang out with your loud moans echoing around the throne room. yes, this is how it always should've been. every servant in the vicinity could undoubtedly hear you moan like a bitch in heat for him.

[womanofwords]

Everybody's Favourite (Part 12)

Now that they knew how painful it was to be discarded and compared to the villains they faced, it was time for everyone to step up the pace. Naturally, you wouldn't be going outside or reading the news. You didn't need to know what people thought of your family.

Surprisingly, it was Damian who was first to attempt bonding. He picked his moment perfectly, accosting you just before you retired to your room at night. "Y/N," he sniffled, arm in a cast and cheeks streaked with tears. He'd even gone to the trouble of wearing age-appropriate Batman pyjamas. "I keep worrying about you. The villains you hang out with scare me."

"You're . . . worried about me?" You looked down at Damian, who looked nothing like the hardened, heartless demon child you'd always known him to be.

"Yes." Fresh tears bubbled up and out, and he hugged you tightly. "I wanna stay with you, Y/N! Please, say I can stay with you! Please! Just for one night!"

"OK, OK," you said. It was only for a night, you told yourself.

Damian crawled into your bed and wrapped himself into your blankets. "Y/N, your room is cold," he said.

"I've asked Bruce to fix the ventilation issues in here, but he said it was frivolous," you said. "I've been using blankets when it gets super cold. I'll get you some."

"Shared body heat is preferable during cold stretches." You felt Damian latch onto your body, nuzzling closely. "I learned about it in school. Can I tell you something else?"

This was getting way out of hand, but you had to say something in reply. "Sure, what is it?"

"You're my favourite sibling, Y/N."

You gasped. "Oh, that is so sweet of you, Damian!" You toyed with a spike of hair as he nuzzled so close. "Can I tell you something?"

Damian was internally celebrating. "Of course, Y/N!"

You leaned in close. "I know about you being Robin, Damian. I know about everyone's secret identities. This is all an act you're putting on, and I know it."

You allowed yourself to fall asleep, while Damian stayed awake, shivering in a cold room while covered in blankets. He wasn't going to be sleeping tonight.

You, however, would be sleeping like a baby.

_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Damian wasn't the only one to attempt to infiltrate your life. Tim teamed up with Barbara to get into your room while you were taking a shower. The target? Your diary.

"It has to be in here somewhere," Tim groaned. "Where do they hide their stuff?" He flopped onto your bed in frustration, only for his head to hit something . . . hard underneath your pillow. "No. No, it can't be. Is that what I think it is?" He flung your pillow away and chuckled. "Come to Papa, diary!" Using a bobby pin to unlock the little heart-shaped lock on the sides, he opened up the book with glee.

He got a face full of black powdered paint.

"AAAAAAAAAH! MAYDAY!" Tim screamed. "BABS! BABS!"

Within the bathroom you had made your base, you rolled on the floor laughing.

_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

"Baby bird . . . where did you get that umbrella from?" Dick asked.

"Papa gave it to me. He doesn't want me to catch cold when I'm out." You cradled the umbrella lovingly. "Isn't my dad the sweetest?"

"Very nice," Dick said. His stomach rolled and twisted, but he couldn't tell whether it was from the envy or disgust at Penguin being referred to as his baby bird's adoptive father.

"Anyway, I'm going to go upstairs. I have plans to make about the Ice Block and then I'm hitting the hay. See you in the morning, Grayson."

Grayson. You didn't even call him by his name. He wanted to grab you, or follow you, or something. And then he spotted the umbrella, the one that your 'papa' had given you.

It was mocking him. That umbrella was a literal inanimate object, and yet it was mocking him. It mocked him with its proximity to you. He had to end this madness.

"You think you're so special, huh?" Dick grabbed the umbrella and shook it. "You're a present from Papa, and Papa's so sweet! Well, we're in Gotham, and umbrellas in Gotham don't last long!" Ignoring every piece of superstition he'd ever heard, he opened the umbrella indoors . . . and was coated in a strange powder. "Great, a prank. Hardy-har-har, Y/N. Colour me amused."

Dick was about to go upstairs and clean himself off when he first felt it.

The itching.

The umbrella had been filled with itching powder. As Dick scratched and contorted himself into impossible configurations for the sake of relief, he wondered who could possibly have rigged your umbrella like that. Penguin was a strong contender, but Scarecrow and Riddler were also some of his biggest haters now, both in and out of costume. One of them had sent you home to Wayne Manor with a bobby-trapped umbrella in the hopes of getting one of your negligent family members. He was going to find out who did this and make them pay.

"Damn those villains," he cursed, as he itched like a flea-infested dog.

You listened from your room and laughed.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12 <- You are here

Part 13

Taglist: @tinybrie, @enchantingarcadecreation, @hopingtoclearmedschool, @sh4rk-k1d, @prorpy, @angelicbear, @sulleha, @sirenetheblogger, @omgfangirlland, @heather-hutchcroft, @wannaflyaway, @jaybunsblog, @sugarrush-blush, @redkarmakai, @asillysimp, @type-ink, @jellyedkazoo, @lonely-nerd-sodaholic,

[joecoolburrow]

Seduction Playbook

Joe Burrow x wife!reader

Joe is spending so much time on his film study, he's neglecting his horny wife (you). So you come up with a play of your own.

SMUT! Warnings: a tiny bit of angst, use of the word slut (affectionate), unprotected sex, p-i-v, and explicit sexual content. 18+ only MDNI

My masterlist

Half-asleep, you subconsciously reached over to Joe's side of the bed. Announce bubbled in you as you were met with only bed sheets. With one eye open, you peeked at the clock and saw it was 2:20 AM. Why the fuck wasn't your husband in bed yet?!

You decided to make him answer that question. Throwing on a bath robe and slippers, you begrudgingly got out of your warm sanctuary and stomped off in frustration.

Down the hall, a blue light emanated out of Joe’s office. You could hear muffled commentary from ESPN hosts as you marched toward the room.

Joe was sitting crisscross applesauce despite being in an ergonomic chair. He was hunched over a notebook, scribbling fervently, only glancing up at the screen every few moments. He didn’t notice you in the doorway.

“Ah hem” you cleared your throat, hoping to get his attention.

Nothing.

Hands on your hips and jaw clenched you called out to Joe, “I guess I’m sleeping alone tonight.”

He finally looked at you, but instead of an explanation or an apology, a little nod was the only acknowledgment you got.

“JOE!”

"I couldn’t sleep. I’m getting some important work done.” He spoke without looking up from his notebook.

“The tape will still be here in the morning.”

Joe ignored your words.

You were getting mad. It wasn't just tonight, Joe had been spending every evening and increasingly long hours of the night studying film. The season’s tough loses weighing heavily on him, as a leader of the team he felt responsible for finding a way to win. You love Joe’s work ethic and competitive drive, but lately it had consumed him. This wasn't healthy for him or your relationship.

You approached Joe. His eyes were puffy and his button lip was chapped like he’d been stress biting it again. But in his eyes were the same determined hunger you knew so well.

"Joe,” your voice softened as you knelt beside him, trying to be sympathetic to his pain.

He met your gaze but said nothing.

“I’m worried about you, babe. You know how important sleep is. Please come to bed.”

“I don’t feel tired.” Joe shrugged.

“You’ve been up since 6 AM, had a workout, practice all day, and you’ve been studying for at least 5 hours. You have to be tired.”

Joe wasn’t in the mood for reason. “I’m just not.”

You were unconvinced and Joe knew it. But, he didn't have a good argument, so he stayed quiet.

“I feel like I barely see you.” You pouted.

The whine in your voice was a little exaggerated, but the statement was true. You and Joe weren’t getting much quality and you missed your husband.

Joe gave you a half-hearted smile.

“I know, darling. I’ll make it up to you during the off season.”

Now you were exasperated. You dropped your head in your hands, tired physically and tired of this conversation.

“Joe-” you started, but he cut you off.

“Are you hungry? I can order us some delivery. That pizza place we tried a few weeks ago stays open late. We can have a little pizza date right here.”

He was trying. But holy fuck that was the least romantic thing he’d ever suggested. You looked at him, unsure if you were going to laugh or roll your eyes.

"A pizza date in your office? At 3 AM? Watching the Ravens and Bears game from 3 weeks ago?” You hoped when Joe heard it he'd understand why it was ridiculous.

“Ok, why don’t you go back to bed and I’ll be there in a couple hours?”

"A couple hours?!" You repeated.

Joe gestured at the screen and then to his notes. “I'm making progress! I have to keep going."

“You have to rest!”

“Y/n,” Joe’s voice was stern. “This is my job. You’ve always known how much it means to me. I told you there would be tough times when I had to focus more on the game than anything else. You said it’s one of the things you love about me.”

This time you stayed quiet. It was true. But it didn’t make this any easier.

Joe saw your pain. He took your hand and kissed it. You missed his touch, his affection.

“I love you. I'm sorry we haven't had a lot of time together lately. I’m going to finish soon and then I’ll come bed. I promise.” He said earnestly.

Too tired to keep arguing and seeing how it was only causing Joe more stress, you relented.

“Ok. I’ll be waiting for you in bed.”

Jos pulled you in for a kiss. It was supposed to be a chaste, goodbye kiss. But, you drew him in. Your lips were intoxicating. You swirled your finger over the short hairs on the back of his neck, sending chills down his spine. It was a silent plea for him to follow you.

While he still had an ounce of strength in him to resist, Joe pulled away.

You made your way out of the office, turning once to look back at Joe. He was already engrossed in his film study.

Your bed felt so big and so cold without him to share it with. Despite feeling tired, you tossed and turned, unable to sleep. Soon you accepted that sleep was a lost cause. You considered watching something on TV when you found yourself looking at the dresser. It gave you an idea. You sprang up and opened the bottom drawer, your favorite drawer.

It was where you kept your lingerie. Lace panties, plunging bras with little bows, thigh high stockings, and-one of Joe's personal favorites- a babydoll nightgown that wasn't quite long enough to cover your butt.

You changed into your sexist lingerie and went to the mirror to admire yourself. You felt very sexy. Your pulse was racing. You were getting hot just thinking about the look on Joe's face when you show up in the office this time. To finish the look, you put on a pair of strappy red stilettos that were tall enough to put you and Joe at equal height. You puckered her lips and applied a dark red shade of liquid lipstick.

'Show time!' you thought to yourself as you fixed your hair.

Your heels clapped against the floors as you made your way down the hall. This time Joe knew you were in the doorway though he still didn't look up.

"Give me one more hour." He said, face buried in his notebook.

You smirked. It wasn't going to be more than one minute. You walked in front of Joe's chair, blocking his view of the screen.

Joe looked up slowly, eyes widening as he realized how you were dressed (or undressed). He dropped his pencil.

Finally, you had his attention.

"I thought I could help you study." You said in her most sultry voice.

You sat on the edge of his desk and put one foot on the armrest of his chair to show off your leg.

Joe was struggling to maintain composure. "W-What are you doing?"

"Just waiting for you." You purred.

"I need to finish my film study."

"Go ahead." You folded your hands in your lap in feign innocence. Your arms were pushing her boobs together, making them a little more prominent.

Joe tittered. He looked you up and down, considering his options for a moment. Would he choose his stubborn pride and tell you to go back to bed? Or would he do the right thing and take you to bed?

You licked your lip and looked at him, confident he'd make the right choice.

"Damn it, Y/n."

Joe reached out to touch you. You intercepted his hand before he could and made him caress your cheek. Slowly, you moved his index finger across your bottom lip and slipped it into your mouth.

Your tongue swirled around it. Joe no longer looked tired or stressed. The gleam in his eye was unmistakably of amusement.

His other hand journeyed up the your leg, feeling the firmness of your calf, the softness of your stocking, and finally, the smooth warmth of your upper thigh. You let out a little moan at the feeling of his big hand making it's way towards your panties.

You pulled his finger out of your mouth with a pop. You moved his hand down your chest and settled it on your breast.

Meanwhile on your leg, Joe's hand was inches away from your panties. He noticed there was a little shiny spot in the center, making him even more eager to get there.

As desperate as you were for him to get there, you wanted to tease him a bit more. You put your leg down and leaned your body back along the desk.

"I hate being in bed without you, Joe. It's so lonely." You whined. "You can't just leave me there, so needy."

Joe wanted to tease you right back. "I should've known a slut like you couldn't go too long without getting fucked by my big cock."

He got up. Standing over you, burning with desire. You were getting wetter and wetter. He spread your legs and stepped between them.

"I want you so bad, Joe." You gasped. "I need you."

He massaged your inner thighs and pushed up the your babydoll. He left a trail of hot kisses along your pelvis.

"I'll always give you what you need, baby." He whispered as he slid your panties off.

You ran your hands through Joe's velvety curls. He threw your legs over his broad shoulders. His hands snaked underneath you to unclasp your bra, then quickly pulled it off. He ran his hands over your body, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

"Please Joe." You begged.

One of his fingers swirled around your center, gathering your wet heat. He rubbed you gently, torturously slowly. You squirmed trying to get more friction.

"Mmm, you really are desperate for me."

There was no denying it even if you wanted to. You grabbed at Joe's sweatpants and urged him on. You could see how hard he was.

"I'll take care of that, darling." He said, batting your hand away. He undressed quickly and put his hands back on your sides. He leaned his body over yours. His mouth went for one of your breasts. First grazing his lips over the hardened peak, then giving it a slight tug with his teeth.

"Oh fuck, Joe!" You cried.

He sucked and teased your nipple, while sliding one hand back to your center. One finger entered you. You clenched around him and he pushed in another.

Your head was spinning when Joe suddenly pulled his fingers out and leaned up. You whined in protest, lustful eyes looking up to see him lick your arousal off his fingers.

"I told you, you make me so wet, Joe." You breathed.

"And I left you laying in bed, horny and lonely."

"Aching for you!" You added.

Joe shook his head as his finger danced over your clit.

"Begging for me?" He baited you.

"Yes! Please Joe. God, I need to feel you inside me. I need you to fuck me, please!!!"

He kissed your neck.

"With pleasure." He hummed against your skin.

Joe positioned himself and slowly pushed inside you. You inhaled sharply. He was so big, no matter how many times he fucked you, you still needed to adjust.

Before moving, Joe kissed your lips, deeply, lovingly, giving you time to stretch. Then, his dick retreated and slammed back into you. You yelped in pleasure.

"You like that?" Joe whispered in your ear.

You couldn't answer. You threw your head back in ecstasy as he thrust into you again and again.

Joe held you in place with one hand on your hip. The other used his long fingers to delicately work your clit till you were a writhing mess underneath him.

"You feel so good, baby." Joe praised. "I missed your perfect, tight little pussy."

Joe soon brought you to a trembling, quivering, orgasm.

"That's right, cum all over my cock." He encouraged.

Your back arched off the desk and tears formed in the corners of your eyes. You cried out Joe's name as you came down from your high.

Your pulsating walls took Joe to his delight. He came right after with a throaty moan.

As you each caught your breath, your eyes met.

Joe blushed, he typically got shy after sex. You smiled as your legs melted off his shoulder. You pulled him into a kiss. 

"You were right." Joe admitted. "I needed that."

"So did I."

"I'm sorry for the way I've been. I won't leave you alone in bed anymore. And I'm going to make more time for us to spend together. You're the most important thing to me, not football."

You appreciated the effort. As you wiped a sweaty curl off his forehead you reminded him, "I understand it's really important to you. I know you won't be satisfied until you win."

Joe smiled. "I'm pretty satisfied right now."

You giggled as he pulled you to sit up.

"I'm ready to go to bed now." Joe said.

"Took you long enough."

[chuhees]

WASHING MACHINE ★ SJY

𝗟𝗔𝗖𝒪𝗡𝗜𝗖 ──── 𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖺 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖿𝗎𝗅 𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗄 𝗈𝖿 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗀𝖾

◜ᯅ◝ 【 𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐈𝓞 】 for sjy + fluff 𝟐𝟐𝟐 && no warnings ⟢ cl𝓲ck

𝘀𝗮𝘃: i’m back woah.. i didn’t think i’d be but.. there’s gonna be a lot of changes coming with this blog. so be patient with me :)

you weren't sure what was worse-the fact that you had two exams next week and barely understood the material, or the homesick in your body that was worsening as the days went on. either way, college was harder than you thought. it didn't help that it was now 10pm on a monday night, and you were up doing laundry.

the laundry room was quite lively for it only being 10pm. the machines hummed softly, the scent of dryer sheets and detergent filled your nostrils. you sighed against the counter, waiting for your clothes to finish in the washer.

that's when you heard a whisper, nothing too faint, but nothing too loud.

"first year?" the voice asks.

you turn your head slightly, making contact with a boy. the boy's hair was covering his eyes, a basket of laundry in his hands. he had looked like he just rolled out of bed, a hoodie covering the messy bed hair beneath.

"is it that obvious?" you asked, turning back to the machine.

"kinda. you look like you're questioning life right now."

you huffed out a small laugh. "that's because i am."

"rough week?" the voice asked.

"you have no idea.'

"try me"

so you did. you ranted to this random stranger about how much you missed home. you told him about all your exams, and not understanding the material. you expressed sadness, the boy could tell. all he did was listen, he nodded along, and gave you the reassurance you needed.

"i felt the same way my first year." he admitted, hoping it would make you feel any better. "it gets better, i promise. take it one step at a time. maybe you just need a solid routine, and a friend."

you smiled. "a friend."

the boy grinned, his hand reaching out. "i'm jake by the way. since we both have chaotic schedules, let's make this a regular thing."

"yeah.. a regular thing." you shook his hand, feeling weights remove from your shoulder.

[freyito]

✭ pairing(s): mydeu x gn reader

★ in which: you convince mydei to wear a maid dress for your... 5 month anniversary.

✩ omurice + chicken katsu + icecream float w/ mydei!

✦ entry for my 1k follower event, Freyito's Maid Cafe!

✧ a/n: yesss yesss... would mydei in a maid dress be a blessing (big manly man in a maid dress) or a curse (covering up his big naturals).

🗒 cw: gn reader, once again i know nothing about sewing, embarassed mydei, not proofread (i finished this at 2am so)

✎ wc: 2k

ᴏᴅᴅ ᴄᴜꜱᴛᴏᴍꜱ | ꜰʀᴇʏɪᴛᴏ'ꜱ ᴍᴀɪᴅ ᴄᴀꜰᴇ !

Mydei might say there is no word for ‘romance’ in the Kremnoan language. He assumes it must be a word, that it must be spoken. You, however, have noticed that the word might not exist, but the actions do. That being said, he’d do anything for you. Cooking, cleaning, pampering you, he would do it all, at any given moment. Even die for you.

When you come to him with quite an odd request, he is quite… confused. Shocked, maybe? Or, embarrassed. That seems about right. Some would say you have a death wish, if they did not know just how well you have Mydei wrapped around your finger. Coming to him, with a request like that. A man of his stature, strength, and recognition. Wear a maid dress? All because you asked him to? 

It’s more likely than most would think, actually. He could grunt and huff and roll his eyes all he wanted, but he was quite weak to your charms. He was enraptured by you, foreign not only to Kremnos, but to Amphoreus, all your quirks and your manners bewitched him. Someone from beyond the sky, with such differing customs than those on Amphoreus, so, who could blame him for taking such a boyish interest in you?

If he knew then what you would’ve gotten him into, he’d stop himself and preserve his dignity. Well, that’s what he thinks at the moment. Unfortunately, wearing a maid dress is included in ‘anything’, as embarrassing as it is. That doesn’t mean he won’t put up a fight, though. No matter how much you beg and plead, he’d cross his arms and huff, gracing you with a simple ‘no’.

You are so adamant, despite his pushback. Following him around Okhema, like a puppy, promising you’d do anything to see him in a maid dress (rather loudly, which would earn you a blush and a hushed ‘stop, please’, which you couldn’t just ignore). You had begged him so much that you almost forgot what (who) gave you the idea in the first place.

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

“Wait, so how long have you been dating Mydei?” March and Stelle were crowded around you in the parlor car, while you were going through your phone gallery, showing pictures of the man in question to March.

“Uhm, like… Five months? Lemme check…” You swipe through your gallery, til you find the very first picture you took of Mydei. He was pouting, arms crossed, looking down at the camera, a slight flush dusted his cheeks. You look at the date the photo was taken– your first date. “Yeah. Exactly five months.”

“Whaaat!?” Both Stelle and March chirp, looking absolutely astonished.

“And you haven’t celebrated yet!?” March pushes at Stelle to get up closer, hands balling into fists as if she’s holding herself back from grabbing you. “Five months and you’re up here, with us!?!?”

“You should be down there! Going on some fancy date with him!” Stelle chimes in, pushing back at March. The two women crowd your space, and all you can do is blink.

“... Well, I mean, uhm,” You find yourself unable to form a sentence, partially feeling bad for not realizing it had been an anniversary, but also feeling a little caged in by the girls. “I dunno… what to do…”

“Well, Stelle just gave you an idea!” 

“Yeah I did! Something classic and fancy is the way to go!”

“Yeah, but, now that I think about it, I kinda wanna do something a lot more fun…”

Both girls fall silent and lean back, Stelle tapping at her chin while she thinks. March, however, seems to have an idea almost immediately.

“Well, why not dress up? It’s a fun little couples activity…” March hums, leaning back with a satisfied smile.

“Oh, oh! Make him dress up as a maid!” Stelle adds–

“Like we did with Caelus–” The two sync back up again.

“That’s Caelus, though… I don’t think I could convince Mydei to…”

“Sure you could! I mean, I’ve seen how he looks at you in those photos Stelle and Dan Heng took–”

“– You took pictures of me and Mydei?–”

“– I’m totally sure you could convince him to wear a maid dress!”

The thought doesn’t escape you. You quite like the idea. But, could you really convince him? It seemed like a stretch.

“Make it a whole thing, maybe?” Stelle chimes in, completely ignoring your earlier question. “Like… make him cook for you!”

“... His cooking is good…” With that, you make up your mind. What’s better than dinner and a show?

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

“Ah! Mydeimos!” You rarely use his full name, which makes him practically spin on heels to look back at you. “It’s our five month anniversary! Well– a little later but, that doesn’t matter right now!– It would mean a lot to me if you wore a maid dress to commemorate the date!”

Mydei had not thought of that. While he was aware of the monthly milestones (which he would be embarrassed about if you were to point it out), he took notice of how you didn’t mind– not that he knew you had forgotten–, and figured that you might be okay with skipping over such occasions. Now, he feels almost bad, thinking he had unknowingly missed out on something that could be important to you.

With a sigh, he deflates, the tips of his ears warming with embarrassment. To think this is what would get him to finally crack. You take notice of this, quick to swoop in and wrap your arms around his, tugging at him.

“... Fine.” He finally groans, trying his very best to act unbothered, avoiding your gaze. “I suppose we can talk to Aglaea for the… dress.”

You beam up at him, and he feels his heart stutter. Before he can allow you to weaken him further, he looks back away with a huff. Before he can calm himself down, you start to drag him away to find Aglaea, despite his protests.

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

Aglaea has outdone herself this time. Granted, you’ve always thought every single piece she’s come up with is quite beautiful. But when you are presented with the dress for Mydei, you can’t help but swoon over the work. She had gone the extra mile to keep the dress a secret from you until Mydei could (would) show it off for you.

What a shame to cover up his assets, but ah, what heaven this is. The cutesy frills of the apron and the bonnet are a stark contrast to his handsome face (which was twisted in a permanent scowl, but the pretty pink blush dusting his cheeks was enough to sell the maid look). The pink fabric stretched deliciously over his biceps, and the skirt of the dress was long enough to be modest, but just short enough that you could get a peek of his toned thighs. 

The way you were ogling Mydei, well, it could be called ‘objectification’ outright. Seeing the way your eyes drag from his face, to his arms, to his chest, he groans, looking away from you as his blush burns brighter.

You don’t know what to say, really. If you let your eyes travel anymore, either further down or further up, you might be seen as crude. So, instead, you compose yourself, turning to Aglaea. She stood quietly, arms crossed as she waited for your appraisal of her work. You could catch a faint smirk on her lips, something you never thought you’d see from her, even in the short time you’ve known her.

“Lady Aglaea…” You speak almost breathlessly, looking back at Mydei. He’s still pouting, most likely doing his ebay to will away his embarrassment. “It’s beautiful… if I knew it’d be this–” You can’t help but laugh, “– cute, I would’ve commissioned one for myself, as well.”

Mydei cringes at the word ‘cute’.

“Why thank you,” Aglaea responds, her smirk softening into a smile. “If you don’t mind being patient, I could take your measurements. Though, of course, if you’d rather run off with your… maid, we can always schedule for another time.”

“What do you think Mydei? Wanna match?” You look back at him, and he seems to shrink awya from your gaze.

“Eugh.” He growls.

“Alright, let’s do it Aglaea!”

.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

Mydei sat on a rather luxurious chair, arms crossed. Every now and then, Aglaea would ask you to turn around while she fit the fabrics around you, and you were, in turn, greeted with a frown or a pout, red cheeks, and his goddamned signature manspread. If he were a member of the fairer sex, perhaps he would understand the importance of crossing his legs. But alas, he is not, and you are given a front-row seat to a view of his boxers. You do your best not to comment on it, given the fact that he’s already been thoroughly embarrassed, but that doesn’t stop the warmth that spreads across your cheeks. He definitely notices, yet does not comment.

Aside from pouting, he had a hand in the design of your dress. Black fabric, frills– lots of them, actually. With this, he had chosen a lolita-style dress for you, with puff sleeves, and the frills he picked out sewn onto almost every edge they could; the hems of practically everything. Your skirt, your apron, on the cuffs. He had to make sure you had the cuter dress out of the two of you, even if he wouldn’t say it out loud.

It takes quite some time for Aglaea to finish. You expected this, of course. What you didn’t expect was Mydei to be so complacent. Despite his huffing and puffing, he didn’t make any move to take off the maid dress. Even after Aglaea came back with the finished product seven hours later (of course, you two could’ve done quite a lot in that time, but he made it known that he was not leaving in ‘this damn dress’, no matter how much you pleaded), he stayed. You were surprised when you came back after Aglaea had helped you into the dress, and he was still there. Perhaps you have misjudged his devotion…

Still, when you stand in front of Mydei in the dress that he had helped with, a small, imperceptible smile graces his features, softening his face for the first time today. You give him a little spin, while Aglaea watches on.

“What do you think?” You speak once you finish your spin, fidgeting with your hands.

“There are no words in the Kremnoan language to describe your beauty,” He huffs, standing up. For once, he uses that damn line in what you’ll take as a compliment. 

“Well, I’m glad. I think,” You smile, pulling out your phone almost immediately. Mydei’s face falls at this. Then, he steps back. Now he looks like he's about to bolt. “Awh, c’mon, I just want one picture. Just one. Please?”

Mydei tenses, grimaces, and after another minute (reminding himself that this was all for your… five month anniversary), deflates with a sigh. Then, he slumps back down onto the chair, groaning softly. He gives up, he truly cannot understand your odd customs. Who would willingly put themselves through this? Was this torture? It seemed like it. You had seen a million more worlds than he ever will, he would not be surprised if you had picked up this particular method of torture from one of them.

You take a seat on the arm of the chair, opening your camera app, holding it above you two as you throw out a peace sign. He only looks at the camera, but doesn’t give you a smile, a gesture, anything. You end up looking like a ray of sunshine, while he looks like he might be debating several trips to Castorice.

“Is this truly what you wanted for such an occasion…?” He grumbles, his mind truly broken. The way he looks at you, eyes devoid of life, as if the simple act of wearing the dress has crushed his very soul.

“Ah. No, I was gonna ask you to cook, actually–”

“What.”

“– But a couples outfit is so cute, no?” You beam at him all too innocently. “Unless you’d like to act the part–”

“No.”

© freyito, 2025 | maid cafe event | maid cafe masterlist | masterlist | queue | kofi | discord server | strawpage | star header by roseschoices , dividers by cafekitsune , headers by yours truly

DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN, REPOST ON ANY OTHER PLATFORM, OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[straows]

Gojo who…

—Loves when you get jealous. Because at the end of the day, he gets just as jealous as you do.

A/n: this is short as shit but I love it idc idc idc

The bar was loud, with shots clicking the table, cheering, and laughter. But nothing, and I mean nothing, was louder than the sound of your inner monologue screeching.

You were dressed up, all cute with your hair and makeup done up. You wore a simple long skirt with a slit in the mid-thigh, and a cute little green tube top that was cropped at the naval.

Gojo, bless his heart, wore a black button-up and jeans. With the same fuckass shoes he always wore. Before leaving, he’d said “It’s okay babe. I’ll look because you make me look good.” Before kissing your cheek.

And damn it, he was right. Because now not only was he surrounded by a bunch of guys secretly eyeing you as they spoke to him, but women seemed to find it a competition to get to him. And Gojo was already popular with the ladies, you beat them off with a stick.

You were leaning against the bar, glaring absolute daggers as Gojo awkwardly tried to tell a girl to fuck off without telling her to fuck off. Quickly, you tapped the shot glass against the table before downing it in one fell swoop. The burn in your throat only adds to the anger you were jelly.

Walking over, you grabbed Gojo by his collar and pulled him down, smashing your lips against his.

Gojo, shocked at first, just grinned into the kiss and wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close. He knew exactly what you were doing. And he fucking loved it.

He peaked his eyes open and saw that yours were open as well, glaring daggers at the woman as you basically made out with him. It only made him hard.

The fact that you were so territorial over him? Hot. Soo fucking hot. Because as much as he loved showing you off, he was also getting tired of the stares you were getting from men. Knowing you were just as into him as he was you? Oh lord he was eating you out so good later.

However, when you tried to pull away, Gojo only deepened the kiss. It was definitely not a kiss meant for the public eye, seeing as his tongue was invading your mouth, and it didn’t help that you were leaning into it.

Yep, you two were a match made in heaven.

Because Shoko was cackling at the both of you in the corner. Nanami simply rolled his eyes at the two of you and went back to talking with his wife.

“Well damn,” Gojo groaned against your lips, using you to hide the absolute diabolical boner in his pants. “Feel better, pretty?”

“Mhmm.” You nodded with that same smug little grin that he adored. “Although… I think I need something else,” slowly, your finger trailed down from his collar and ended at his belt before pulling him into you.

Gojo flashed you that mega watt smile, “Mm, that so? You know she’s gone, right?” He quirked a brow, tilting his head slightly.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about. I just wanted to come and show my handsome husband how much I love him,” running your hands back up his chest, you wrapped your arms around his neck, your lips hovering near his, “is that so wrong?”

“Not wrong at all, sweets. Not wrong at all.” He murmured, before leaning in for another kiss, just for you to pull away. Giggling as he chased your lips.

“How about, you take me home?” You knew just how to press every single one of his buttons. Of course you did. Your been married for a year and dating for much longer.

“I like the sound of that, Mrs. Gojo.” Gojo kissed your cheek, before wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

After saying your goodbyes, the two of you headed to the car. He gave you a slap on the ass as you got into the passenger side.

...

Gojo who...

...had you bent over the kitchen table. That cute long skirt you wore was ripped down the ass, your panties just pushed aside as he fucked into you like a madman.

Moaning and groaning about how good you feel, leaving bite marks all over your back. He had a bruising grip on your ass, his fingers white as he would yank your hips back against him as he’d fuck up into you. Pushing you up on your toes.

“Ba-babe!” You’d moan, all pitchy and desperate. Your nails clawing into the table, back arched as you let him pull you every which way.

“Fuck— you,” thrust. “are” thrust. “mine.” Each word punctuated by his cock slamming back into you, your poor cunt molding to the shape of his cock.

Eyes rolling back, you breathlessly moaned as you came around him. Cunt tightened around him like it didn’t wanna let him go, milking for all he was worth.

“S-shit— pretty girl you can’t- oh fuck,” Gojo was all pretty and breathless. Sweat dripped down his brow, blue eyes practically fucking glowing as he reached up and wrapped his hand around the front of your throat, bringing you up so that your upper back was pressed against his chest, giving you a perfect arch. “You can’t squeeze like that” he’d whine, before ultimately blowing his load inside you after a few more thrusts.

He wrapped an arm around your waist and hips as he pulled against him completely. Slowly fucking his cum deeper into you, “so good, did so good for me.” Breathless and sweet whispers against your neck as he rested his forehead against your shoulder.

[willowsnook]

Stay with me part 2? Jack Hughes!!

PLEASE I NEED

Stay with me pt. 2

pt. 1 here

jack hughes x atheltictrainer!reader

——————————————————————-

Jack went home after his surgery and texted you nonstop. At first, it was just questions about his recovery or updates about how he was feeling. Then it turned into something more: trading memes back and forth, him interrogating you about your day, talking about sports news, etc. A week ago, texts turned into Facetime calls, and you pretty much knew that every day would end with you and Jack talking for an hour.

“I’m coming back to Jersey tomorrow. Will I see you?” Jack asked on your nightly call. You had the phone set against the mirror as you took off your makeup and started your skincare routine.

“Maybe,” you said, looking over at your phone. Jack was snuggled up in bed, his eyes dropping as you knew he was fighting sleep to talk to you. “You’ll be with Darren, but I’ll try to stop by to say hi.”

“Why can’t I be with you?” He pouted and you chuckled.

“Your current state is a little out of my pay grade buddy,” you told him. “You’ll be back with me when things get a little better.”

Jack sighed, adjusting himself in bed. "I miss you though," he admitted softly, his voice taking on that vulnerable quality that always made your heart flutter.

"I miss you too," you replied, surprising yourself with how easily the words came. "But protocol is protocol."

"Screw protocol," Jack mumbled, a sleepy grin spreading across his face. "I bet Darren doesn't make me laugh like you do."

You rolled your eyes, dabbing toner onto your face. "Darren is one of the best physical therapists in the league. You should consider yourself lucky."

"Yeah, but does he know that I hate ice baths but will do them if bribed with chocolate protein shakes? Or that my left side is always tighter than my right after a workout?" Jack's eyes were fighting to stay open now.

"No, but he will after I brief him," you chided and he rolled his eyes. “Now please go to sleep, you have a big day tomorrow.”

After hanging up, you climbed into bed, picking up your book to get a little reading in before you went to sleep, but your mind was distracted. Throughout this season, you and Jack had drawn nearer, teetering on the edge of becoming something more than friends. Yet, with each step toward crossing that line, a wave of uncertainty would pull you back. It wasn’t necessarily against any rules to be involved with a player, but it was usually frowned upon. Maybe it wouldn’t even get to that point.

—————————————————————

Jack was in a mood.

He was exhausted doing physical therapy and he did not like Darren at all. He was too serious, professional, void of any emotion. The exact opposite of you.

“Who pissed in your cereal?” Luke asked, stopping by to check in on how Jack was doing.

“I’m fine,” Jack muttered, but the look on his face and his arms crossed tightly over his chest only made Luke smile wider, turning to give a knowing look to Nico who had tagged along.

“Sure seems like it,” his captain chirped. “Nothing to do with a certain Devils’ employee not checking up on you yet?”

Jack glared at his friends causing them both to laugh.

“She’s out there talking to Darren, so you’ll be happy soon,” Luke teased and Jack froze.

“She’s talking to him?” He asked nervously and Nico gave him a curious look.

“Well yeah,” he said puzzled. He understood quickly what was going through Jack’s mind when you stormed into the room. The glare that you were giving Jack caused both Nico and Luke to wince.

“Just had an interesting conversation with Darren,” you said coldly and Jack felt his cheeks redden.

"Yeah?" Jack mumbled, fidgeting with the edge of his shirt like a scolded child.

"He said you've been difficult. Refusing exercises, complaining about everything, and generally being a pain in the ass." You crossed your arms, your professional demeanor firmly in place. "Care to explain?"

Luke and Nico exchanged glances before backing toward the door.

"We'll just... leave you to it," Luke said, failing to hide his amusement as he and Nico slipped out.

Once they were gone, Jack's shoulders slumped. "He's not you, okay?"

"That's not an excuse to be unprofessional, Jack." You moved closer, lowering your voice. "This is your career we're talking about. Your recovery."

"I know," he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I just... I don't connect with him the way I do with you.”

Your irritation started to fade as you let out a sigh. “You need to let him do his job okay? Look at it this way, the better you do with him, the faster you get back to working with me.”

“I’ll be better, I promise,” he said, looking at you with earnest. “Can I sit by you tonight?”

“Don’t you want to sit next to the team?” You asked.

“You’re better company,” he flirted, that charming smile you missed gracing his face.

“Only if you do better here today,” you bargained and he nodded.

Apparently that was more than enough motivation because Darren caught you in the training room later. “Complete 180 that kid, don’t know what happened during the break but it was like a different person.”

“That’s good,” you said, trying not to roll your eyes at Jack’s behavior. Sure enough Jack was grinning widely at you from the spot next to yours on the back bench.

“I think I deserve this spot,” he said cheerfully and you laughed.

“Yeah, yeah, I heard you were a good boy for me,” you said without thinking. His eyes darkened at the praise and you felt a slight blush take over your face.

“Say that again sweetheart and we’ll have to miss the first period,” he murmured, quiet enough for only you to hear. Your breath caught in your throat as you met his gaze, electricity crackling between you. Before you could respond, the announcer's voice boomed through the arena, introducing the starting lineup. Jack's eyes never left yours, that dangerous smirk playing at his lips.

"Behave yourself, Hughes," you whispered, trying to sound stern despite the flutter in your chest.

"No promises," he replied, settling back in his seat as the crowd roared.

Throughout the game, Jack's thigh pressed against yours, his commentary in your ear sending shivers down your spine. You tried to focus on the plays, on your professional responsibilities, but his proximity was intoxicating.

During the second period, your phone buzzed with a text from Darren about a player's treatment schedule. Jack glanced over, frowning slightly.

"Work stuff?" he asked, a hint of jealousy in his tone which made you smirk.

“Nah, it’s personal,” you lied and his jaw tightened. He focused back on the ice and didn’t say a word to you for the rest of the period. As the players headed into the locker room for the quick break Luke gave you a puzzled look after he was given a one-worded answer from Jack about something.

“Don’t worry about him,” you told Luke. “He’s just throwing a fit because he thinks I’m texting another guy.”

Luke's eyes widened in understanding, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Oh, is that what's happening?" he chuckled. "You two are something else."

You rolled your eyes. "It's not like that."

"Sure it isn't," Luke replied, clearly unconvinced as he headed back toward the locker room.

When the third period started, Jack was still giving you the cold shoulder, his body angled slightly away from yours despite the limited space on the bench. You let out a sigh, nudging him gently.

"Darren was texting about Bratt's treatment schedule," you whispered. "Happy now?"

Jack's expression immediately softened, a hint of embarrassment coloring his cheeks. "Oh."

"You're cute when you're jealous," you whispered, immediately regretting the words as they left your mouth.

His expression transformed instantly, that cocky smile returning. "Oh yeah?”

You shook your head with a soft laugh. “Don’t let it go to your head, Hughes.”

“I think it already has,” he said, bumping his shoulder into yours, that boyish glint back in his eyes.

The game wrapped up not long after, and while the players filtered out of the locker room, you lingered by the tunnel, checking in with one of the assistant trainers about a player’s icing schedule. You didn’t notice Jack sneaking up behind you until his voice was right at your ear.

“Come over,” he said simply.

You turned, arching a brow. “Excuse me?”

“Come hang at mine and Luke’s,” he clarified, his tone casual but his eyes hopeful. “Nothing crazy. Just some food, maybe a movie. You’ve been working nonstop and I think you’ve earned a break.”

Your gaze flicked to Luke who was leaning against the wall a few feet away, shooting you a double thumbs-up behind Jack’s back. You snorted.

“I don’t know…” you teased, drawing it out as you tapped a finger to your chin. “What’s in it for me?”

Jack leaned in slightly. “Pizza. Couch cuddles. Me—being charming and irresistible.”

You bit your bottom lip to hide your grin. “One night. No funny business.”

He held up his hands. “I’m a gentleman. Promise.”

“Fine,” you said with mock exasperation, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “But if Luke tries to make us watch that weird documentary again, I’m leaving.”

“No documentaries,” Jack said, looping his arm around your shoulders as the two of you walked out together. “Just you, me, and whatever rom-com you pick to torture me with.”

“And don’t you forget it,” you smirked, already settling into the comfort of his presence. As you walked toward the players' exit, Jack’s hand brushed yours—once, twice—before gently lacing your fingers together.

Yeah, maybe it was something more than just friends. And maybe… that didn’t scare you so much anymore.

[cheynovak]

Crossing the line

Jensen Ackles x y/n F/Reader

Summary: Jensen and y/n have been friend since childhood. She always loved him didn't dare to tell him. But what happens when Jensen visits her on the night before his wedding?

Warnings: nothing much, little teasing towards spice.

English isn't my first language

Please do not copy my work. Comments, likes and sharing are appreciated.

Under no circumstances do I wish to harm the Ackles familie.

The soft glow of the television flickered against the walls of Y/N’s small apartment bedroom. She was half-asleep, wrapped in her blankets, when she heard the familiar click of her front door unlocking.

Jensen.

She didn’t even stir. He had a key—he always had a key. And when he didn't he'd found a way.

As little kids their parents were friends, they had sleepovers and play dates and barbecues.

In high school he crawled through her window to have movie nights or just nightly conversations on her bed, he often fell asleep next to her.

And when he moved out, following his dream, and since became the Jensen Ackles, the famous actor, she gave him a key to her apartment, so he'd still have a way into her little world. She supposed that meant something.

The bed dipped beside her, the scent of whiskey and Jensen’s cologne filling her senses. A lazy grin tugged at his lips as he flopped down beside her, fully clothed.

“Jensen?” she mumbled sleepily, rubbing her eyes.

“Hey, sweetheart.” His voice was slightly slurred, his green eyes hazy yet warm as he looked at her. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

Y/N sighed, shifting to sit up. “You’re supposed to be at your bachelor party.”

“I was.” He grinned lazily, stretching his arms above his head. “But it felt wrong, you know? My best friend wasn't there."

"Did Jared bail on you?" She joked

Jensen bumped her arm. "Fine, I meant my best girl wasn't there."

Her heart clenched at his words, but she pushed the feeling away. This was Jensen, her best friend since high school. The man who always found his way back to her, no matter how high his star rose. And tomorrow, he would belong to someone else.

She scooted over, making room for him. Without hesitation, he slid under the covers beside her, his body warm against hers.

The movie on the screen played out a familiar trope—two best friends secretly in love, dancing around their feelings until fate intervened.

Jensen snorted, watching the main characters exchange longing looks. “Come on. This is so unrealistic.”

Y/N smirked, glancing at him. “Oh, because love is so logical?”

“No, but—” he gestured at the screen. “Boy and girl, best friends. Cute, but why do they always have fall in love? That’s Hollywood nonsense. Why can’t they just be friends? Why does one always have to ruin it.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, ever the romantic. “Maybe some people do fall for their best friend. some people don’t realize what’s right in front of them. It’s not about inevitability, it’s about feelings. Real ones.”

He was quiet for a moment before smirking. “We’re living proof it’s fake. Look at us. Best friends for, what, fifteen years? Never crossed a line.”

Something about the way he said it made her chest tighten. “Yeah,” she murmured, voice softer now. “Never.”

After the movie ended Jensen exhaled deeply, turning onto his side to face her. “Remember that camping trip senior year? One tent, freezing cold.”

She smiled at the memory. “We had to share a sleeping bag. Because someone planned a last minute camping trip and forgot his bag.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, and you kept complaining that I was hogging all the warmth. I was just trying to survive. You were a human furnace, Y/N. I had no choice but to steal your heat.”

Y/N felt her face heating up remembering how it felt to sleep in his arms that night.

His eyes darkened slightly, though his smile remained. “Still. We never crossed a line. That means something, right?”

She hesitated. “Want to watch another movie?” Turning away from him so she could grab the controller.

She scrolled mindless through the movies she knew Jensen would liked.

He exhaled heavily, staring up at the ceiling. Then he turned back to her, his voice quieter now. “Do you think I’m doing something wrong?”

Her breath hitched. She stared at him, her mind racing. Did he mean being here with her tonight? In her bed, on the eve of his wedding?

Her heart screamed ‘no’— because she want him there, because she knew he belonged with her. And if he'd give her a change she would do her best to make him feel loved and happy.

“Jensen…” She hesitated, then finally whispered, “Maybe a little... I-I mean..."

Her voice broke."If you were my boyfriend, I wouldn't want you to stay at a girls house, specially not the night before our wedding."

A shadow passed over his face, his lips pressing into a thin line mumbling. "Yeah, the wedding.”

She frowned. “What?”

He exhaled heavily, staring up at the ceiling. “I meant… do you think I'm doing the right thing... marrying Danneel.”

Silence blanketed the room. Y/N’s pulse pounded in her ears as his words sank in. She had spent years locking away feelings she had no right to have. But now, here he was, lying beside her, questioning the biggest decision of his life.

“Jensen,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “You love her.”

“I do,” he admitted, turning onto his side to face her fully. “But it doesn’t feel the way it should. It doesn’t feel like… this.”

Y/N’s breath hitched. "L-like this?"

His fingertips brushed against hers under the covers, the smallest touch, yet it sent her world spinning. "Save."

Y/N kept looking at him, unable to read his expression. Was he teasing her? Did he meant it? Or better yet, how did he mean it?

“Say something,” he murmured, searching her face for answers.

She wanted to. God, she wanted to tell him everything—that her heart had been his since high school, that she had been waiting for him to see her the way she saw him. But what could she say now, on the night before his wedding?

“You’re drunk, Jay,” she whispered, though even she didn’t believe the excuse. “You should go to sleep.”

But Jensen didn’t want to. He whispered, his fingers still tracing hers. “I just… I always thought I’d find a girl who’s a little more… you.”

She swallowed hard. “Why?” she whispered, barely able to form the word.

“Because everything comes so natural with us,” he admitted, his voice rough with honesty. “I don’t need to think about what to say. I don’t need to watch what I do. I don’t have to work out to look good enough, because I know you'll love me as I am. I can just be me.”

Jensen moved to lean on his elbow, almost hovering over her.

His words poured out, unfiltered, raw. “You know me better than anyone. You see all my flaws, all my screw-ups, and you still let me in—hell, you still let me into your bed."

"You trust me, blindly. And I feel safe with you, safe enough to tell you anything. Even the fact that I'm afraid that I'm marrying the wrong person tomorrow. Maybe I need a girl like my best girl."

Jensen seemed to lean in, clsoing the space between them. But Y/N placrd her hand resting on his chest.

Y/N tried hard not to look at his lips while stumbling over her words.

“Maybe… you were never meant to find a girl like me. Because you don't... I mean... you chose her and, you know find her well... attractive. And I’m… me. And girls like me look like me.”

Jensen frowned. “You are beautiful.”

She pulled her hand back from his chest, looking up at him.

“Exactly. You would call your sister beautiful. And your girlfriend, I don’t know, hot, sexy... attractive?"

Jensen's smirk did nothing to ease her beating heart. "My point is, Jay. You'd never want to be or do... things, with a girl who you see as a sister."

His frown deepened as he stared at her. Then, his voice dropped to a whisper, barely audible in the quiet room. “Would I want to do this to my sister?”

Before she could process his words, his lips brushed against hers—soft, hesitant, but filled with something she had never dared to believe in.

He pulled back just slightly. Y/N’s lips parted, her breath uneven, his eyes locked onto her, searching a reason to stop, but she didnt look angry or upset.

Her mind screaming at her to say something—anything—but before she could, he kissed her again.

This time, her hand moved to the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as the last of the space between them disappeared.

The kiss deepened, slow at first, but quickly unraveling into something more. Jensen’s hands roamed, his fingertips tracing familiar yet uncharted territory.

One hand gripped her waist, pulling her against him, as if closing the distance that had always existed between them.

He felt her hand tracing his chest, soft and unsure, but he needed to feel more of her touch. His free pulled the fabric of his shirt, tugging it over his head before tossing it aside. Before his hand grabbed the inside of her knee, so he could nearly melt against her.

That same hand tracing her thigh, her hip, feeling the soft cotton underwear while he make his way over to her stomach.

His breath was warm against her skin, his lips teasing against hers, lingering—testing. He hovered above her, eyes dark, questioning, waiting for any sign to stop.

But Y/N didn’t pull away, not this time. Instead, she pulled him closer, her own body betraying years of restraint. And for once giving in, not caring about the consequences, at least not tonight.

No. Tonight, the line had been crossed, one they could never undo.

So why stop now, right?

--

Jensen: @jackles010378 @libby99hb @winchesterwild78 @suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @deans-baby-momma @ancles @tulipsvanilla @thesilmarillionblog @jays-bonnie-on-the-side @kr804573 @kamisobsessed @hobby27 @globetrotter28 @kindollss @muhahaha303 @shadysoulangel @lyarr24 @spxideyver @impala67rollingthroughtown @panickedbitch @deansimpalababy @livya99 @yvonneeeee @ladykitana90 @stoneyggirl2 @imsiriuslyreal @panickedbitch @roseblue373 @n-o-p-e-never @ariasong11 @lmpala1967 @sherlockstrangewolf @spnaquakindgdom @writtenbyhollywood @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @healojane @star-yawnznn

[wroetolando]

𝙾𝚏𝚏 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚍 | 𝙲𝚂𝟻𝟻

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: carlos sainz x doctor!reader

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: the one where carlos is absolutely smitten with his doctor, but she keeps rejecting him because of professional boundaries

𝗺𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗰: little bit more - suriel hess

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: none!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

Carlos Sainz was used to being in control. On the track, his instincts were razor-sharp, his confidence unshakable. Every decision, every maneuver—it was all precise, calculated.

But lying in a hospital bed, recovering from an appendectomy, he felt utterly powerless.

The only thing keeping him entertained—aside from the occasional messages from teammates and fans—was you.

Dr. Y/N L/N was the attending physician assigned to his case, and if Carlos had been in a better condition when he first met you, he was sure his reaction would have been far less subtle. You were stunning, but more than that, you had an air of quiet authority, an intelligence that made every conversation with you far more interesting than any medical report.

Unfortunately, you also seemed entirely immune to his charm.

Carlos had tested the waters with a few well-placed compliments, a grin here and there—nothing over the top, just enough to gauge your reaction. Nothing. Not a single blush, not a flustered glance. Just a polite but firm professionalism that both frustrated and intrigued him.

He loved a challenge.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

The First Attempt

“How are we feeling today, Mr. Sainz?”

You walked into his room, clipboard in hand, scanning his vitals as you spoke.

Carlos, propped up in bed, gave you his best, most charming smile. “Much better now that you’re here.”

Your gaze flicked up from the clipboard, unimpressed. “You know that line won’t work on me, right?”

He grinned. “I don’t know what you mean. I’m just being honest.”

You sighed, setting his chart aside. “Your recovery is progressing well. No fever, no signs of infection. If everything stays on track, you should be discharged in a couple of days.”

“Great,” Carlos said. “That means we should celebrate. Dinner, maybe?”

You let out a quiet chuckle but shook your head. “Carlos, I am your doctor.”

His eyes gleamed with mischief. “Not forever, though.”

“Doesn’t matter.” You crossed your arms. “I don’t date patients.”

Carlos feigned a dramatic sigh, pressing a hand over his heart. “Are you saying you wouldn’t date me even if I wasn’t your patient?”

You arched an eyebrow. “That’s not relevant.”

His grin widened. “So you’re saying there’s a chance.”

You shook your head, already making your way toward the door. “Get some rest, Carlos.”

His laughter followed you down the hall.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

The Second Attempt

By the third day of his recovery, Carlos had found new ways to occupy his time.

“Dr. L/N,” he greeted when you walked in, his voice dangerously smooth.

You gave him a suspicious glance. “What is it now?”

Carlos tapped his fingers against his chin, looking thoughtful. “I was thinking… it must be exhausting, running around all day saving lives.”

Your lips twitched. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“But I would,” he said seriously. “You work so hard. You deserve a break.”

You sighed, knowing exactly where this was going. “Carlos—”

“A dinner, perhaps?” he cut in smoothly. “With a charming Spaniard who happens to owe you his life?”

You exhaled. “You had appendicitis. I wouldn’t call that ‘saving your life.’”

“But what if I had ignored it?” He widened his eyes dramatically. “I could have suffered terribly. You saved me.”

You rolled your eyes, checking his IV. “Your vitals are looking good. You’ll be discharged tomorrow.”

Carlos smirked. “Perfect. That means you can’t say no to dinner anymore.”

“I can, actually.”

His grin faltered for a fraction of a second before he recovered. “But you won’t.”

You fought back a laugh as you turned to leave. “Goodbye, Carlos.”

“I’ll be waiting for my yes,” he called after you.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

The Third Attempt

Carlos was more than ready to leave the hospital by the time you walked in with his discharge papers.

“Well, Mr. Sainz,” you said, flipping through the forms. “Everything looks good. You’re officially free to go.”

Carlos took the papers, but instead of immediately signing them, he tilted his head. “So… that means you’re not my doctor anymore, right?”

You hesitated, glancing up at him. “Technically, no.”

A slow, victorious grin spread across his face. “Then, Y/N, will you go to dinner with me?”

You sighed, rubbing your temple. “Carlos—”

He held up a hand. “Before you say no, just think about it. No more professional lines to worry about. Just two people, having a good meal, getting to know each other outside of a hospital.”

You stared at him for a long moment. He had been relentless. Patient, even. And now, finally, there was nothing stopping you.

A slow smile tugged at your lips. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Carlos beamed. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

You grabbed the discharge forms from his hands and signed off on his release. “Fine. One dinner.”

Carlos grinned, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “That’s all I need.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

Dinner

Carlos picked a quiet, cozy restaurant—a place tucked away from the usual F1 fanfare, somewhere intimate but not overwhelming.

You had to admit, despite your initial reservations, you were enjoying yourself.

Carlos was easy to talk to, his energy infectious. He told stories about racing, his childhood, his ridiculous adventures with Lando Norris. And in return, he listened—really listened—when you spoke about your work, your journey into medicine, the parts of the job that weighed on you and the ones that made it worth it.

At one point, he leaned back, studying you with an expression you couldn’t quite place.

“You know,” he said, voice softer now, “I wasn’t just flirting in the hospital to mess with you.”

You raised an eyebrow. “No?”

Carlos shook his head. “I meant it. From the moment I met you, I knew I wanted to see you again. You’re different from anyone I’ve met.”

Something warm settled in your chest. You had spent days resisting him, convinced that he was just another charming athlete who was used to getting what he wanted. But this felt real.

“…I’m glad I said yes,” you admitted.

Carlos grinned. “Me too.”

And for the first time since you met him, you weren’t thinking about hospital rules, professional boundaries, or the dozens of reasons you had told yourself to keep your distance.

You were just you.

And Carlos was just Carlos.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

masterlist

[writtenbyan-aries]

I was wondering if you could please do a bsf colbyxreader where the reader’s depression has been awful and he takes care of her, leading to more than friends?

🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

Taking Care of You - Colby Brock

Summary: Colby worries about reader after not hearing from them for a few days

Warnings: depression [please read with care], mostly fluff

Word Count: 1065

・┈┈・┈┈・┈┈ ・┈┈・┈┈・┈┈・┈┈・┈┈・┈┈・

You were in bed, half asleep when you hear your bedroom door creep open, “Go away.” You mumble from under the covers.

“Glad to know you’re still alive.” Colby’s voice is soft, “I was gonna ask if you’re good, but from the looks of it, you’re not.”

“What gave that away?” You shoot back, your tone plain, “the fact that I haven’t talked to you in three days or the fact that I didn’t care who was coming into my room?”

You feel the weight of Colby sink down on the side of your bed, “All of it.”

It’s silent for a second before he sighs, moving to lay next to you, “Come here.” He lays his arm over your waist, “How long has it been bad, y/n?”

You don’t fight him, you move back next to him, tears instantly filling your eyes because you can hear the genuine concern in his voice.

“Few weeks.”

“A few weeks?” Colby’s voice break quietly, “Sweetheart..” he tightens his grip on you, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” You sniffle, “You’ve been filming, that’s more important than-“

He cuts you off, “I swear to god if you say that anything is more important than you I’m going to be pissed.” He slides his hand up, brushing hair from your face before swiping a tear away with his thumb, “Nothing, to me, is more important than you.”

You don’t say anything.

“Your head.. it’s a dangerous place right now, sweetheart.” His thumb gently drags over the skin of your arm, “But I mean it, when I told you call me, text me, show up at my house, whatever, I meant it. I’m here for you. I don’t care if I’m getting my ass handed to me by a spirit on the other side of the world, if you need me, I’m answering that call or catching the first flight back to you.”

His hold tightens on you as he places a kiss to your forehead, “You’re important. So, so important to me.”

You roll over, shifting around so your cheek is pressed to his chest, “I just..” you sniffle, “it’s just been bad thought after bad thought.” You shrug, “I’m in a rut, a deep, rut. I don’t know how to pull myself out of it.”

“That’s why I’m here, sweetheart. I’m going to help. I want to help.” Colby rubs your back, “We’ll go at your pace, whatever you need, I’m here.”

He presses another kiss to your forehead, “I told Sam not to schedule anything for a few days because I just had a feeling you were gonna need me.” He chuckles and you smile, “Yeah, even if I don’t admit it, I always need you.”

“That’s okay, you’re just stubborn. But that doesn’t mean I love you any less.”

“I love you.” You whisper back, “So much more than I probably should.”

There’s a silent pause, both of you taking in each other’s words and Colby nods, “You can love me all you want, you’re who I always think about first.” He glances down at you, “Just didn’t want to push you, you know?”

You shift around, looking up at him, “You really mean that?”

He nods, “‘Course I do.” He smiles, “You’re who I want, but I was waiting for you, guess I should have pushed just a little bit, huh?”

“Couldn’t have hurt anything.” You laugh slightly, giving him a smile and Colby smiles, “There she is.” He reaches up, his hand brushing along your cheek, “I really do love you, you’ve been there for everything for me, how can it not be you, you know?”

You nod in agreement, “exactly how I feel about you, Colby.”

His eyes search your face, taking in the moment, “You know if something were to ever happen to you, I don’t know what I’d do, but I know it wouldn’t be good.”

“Nothing is going to happen to me, Colby.” You run your hand down his arm, “I’m right here.”

“I know, I just..” he sighs, “I know.” He pulls you closer to him, pressing a kiss to your head, “I got you, if anything happens to you, it’ll have to happen to me first.”

You smile, wrapping your arm around his waist. You lay there with him for a little bit, just taking in the moment which is helping pull you from the trenches.

“I need a shower. I don’t know how you’re this close to me.” You admit, “I haven’t showered in three days.”

“Doesn’t bother me.” Colby shoots back, “But, if I must let you go, you can go shower.” He loosens his arms and watches as you sit up, “I’ll be here. I’m not leaving anytime soon.”

After your shower, you walk back into your room to see Colby has changed your bedsheets and he’s finding something on the tv, “How do you feel now?” He glances up at you.

You nod, walking over to sit on the bed next to him, “Better, actually. A lot better.” You glance down, “Thank you for doing this.” You motion to the bed and he shrugs, “You don’t have to thank me, I like taking care of you.”

He extends his arm out and you move down to lay against his body.

“I didn’t know if you were hungry or not, but I ordered pizza anyway. I’ll be here in twenty or so.”

You nod, “Thank you.” You look up at him, reaching up to slowly turn his chin towards you and you gently press your lips to his.

His hand presses firm against your back, pulling you closer as his lips press to yours. He smiles within the kiss, “Sealing the deal, huh?”

“Something like that.” You laugh quietly, moving to rest your head on his shoulder, “I’m just.. really grateful for you, Colby.”

He nods, smiling as he looks back at the tv, “You’re literally everything to me, y/n. I know what you mean.”

・┈┈・┈┈・┈┈ ・┈┈・┈┈・┈┈・┈┈・┈┈・┈┈・

Going to try and push out some shortish one shots to makeup for lost time. I still feel like absolutely shit, but I miss you guys and I miss writing! 🖤 thank you so much for reading! I love you all so much. Catch you in the next one!

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[my-my-my]

Food for Thought - Chapter 2

Read Chapter 1 here.

Summary: You often wonder why you feel so alone even when you spend time with other people. An outsider even in a packed room. But a chance work project with Urahara Kisuke provides a strange comfort... so strange that you continue to spend time with him after your project is over.

CW: self-esteem issues, kissing, Urahara being a creep.

Read this chapter on AO3 here.

“My only request is that,” Urahara lowered his voice, bringing his face close to yours, “don’t invite anyone else – I want your undivided attention.”

You gave Urahara a confused look at his remark, “why would I invite other people? My kitchen is so small.”

A brief, yet awkward silence filled the space between you two before Urahara burst into laughter. When was the last time I laughed like this? He wondered to himself as he stopped. “I suppose you have a point.” He gave you a small smile, “so no surprise guests then, Ms. Popular” he teased, followed by a light chuckle.

You smiled fondly at his laugh. You noticed, since spending lunch with Urahara now, that he seemed more relaxed. He always gave a mysterious air around him, almost as if he was assessing everyone he interacted with, even you, but today felt a bit different.

No, I’m just overthinking things. You told yourself. You quickly checked your phone and saw your lunch break was nearing its end. “I’ll have to go now Urahara-san, but hopefully we can chat again tomorrow?” You asked, putting away your lunch.

“Sure,” he replied with a slight grin, “don’t keep me waiting.”

You waved him off as you headed back to your department. Your cheeks felt warm and your heart felt odd.

Sitting in your office chair, you sighed. I have a crush you thought with sadness. Of course you would have a crush on him, he was friendly, funny and intelligent. It didn’t help that he was handsome either. You wanted to reach out to your phone and text him something, anything, to validate your thoughts, until you heard your name.

You looked up to see Rukia there smiling at you, “I missed you at lunch today! Where have you been?” She asked, noticing the shocked and embarrassed look on your face.

“Oh, sorry.” You apologized, “I had lunch with Urahara-san today.”

“You’re not done with that project with him?” She asked, folding her arms. “It’s not like you to delay something like that.”

You shook your head, “oh it’s nothing like that”, you began to fiddle with your fingers, avoiding her gaze, “I appreciate his company so we have lunch together sometimes.”

Rukia clicked her tongue, “ahh, I see. He’s not being weird with you, is he?”

Your eyes widened with surprise, “not at all! He’s quite funny actually.” Rukia narrowed her eyes, but let you continue on, “he’s really insightful. I like talking to him.” You gave her an earnest smile.

Rukia sighed, “alright, but just keep your wits about you, ok?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “sure, mother.” You said sarcastically. Rukia huffed, but you broke into laughter, “I know you’re concerned, but Urahara-san is quite normal.”

“Well I didn’t come here to talk about him,” she admonished, “I wanted to double check if you were still free for lunch tomorrow, you know the one that Ukitake-san is treating us to?”

“Oh right, thank you for reminding me!” You said, completely shocked that something like that slipped your mind.

“And I’m also here to show you something…” Rukia said, before reaching into her pants pocket, “ta dah!” She held out a pristine, limited edition Chappy keychain in the palm of her hand.

“You managed to find one!?” You gasped, “how?!” As you delicately picked it up with your hand, as if it would crumble with even the gentlest of touches.

Rukia grinned, a satisfied smile on her face, “I managed to win it in a blind box. Lady Luck favours the bold, you know.”

“And no one is as bold as you, Rukia” you chuckled. “But it’s cute, congrats!” You smiled at it, giving it a soft squeeze before handing it back to Rukia.

But before you and Rukia could continue with your conversation, your manager Hiyori peeked her head, giving you two a glare. Rukia gave you a polite smile, leaving you with your work… and your phone’s messaging app open on your texts to Urahara.

I’ll just let him know about tomorrow. It’s the least I can do. You thought to yourself as you began to type.

Kisuke mulled around in his laptop, losing interest in the code in front of him. His mind was preoccupied with thoughts of you. Spending time with you, as innocuous as lunch was, left him feeling uncomfortable and anxious. It was an uneasy feeling that he didn’t want to dwell on, but at the same time, he also craved your attention.

Maybe tomorrow he would be firmer in his approach with you. He would test himself. Maybe he was drawn to the physicality of your presence rather than mental chemistry building between you.

The line of code stared back at him while his brain ran through iterations of plans. He’ll have lunch with you tomorrow, maybe he would buy a pre-made lunch and lie that he attempted to make it for dinner. He would have you taste it; you would be amazed and proud, and he would lean in for a kiss.

Yes, that’s what he would do. He would test you to see if you would reciprocate. After all, most people wanted him for something, he would figure out what was your deal anyways.

Kisuke slowly began to type his code, until his phone vibrated in his pocket. It was a message from you. His heart quickened, which he just as quickly dismissed. His fingers immediately opened the text you sent, and his heart churned.

You sent an apology about tomorrow’s lunch, something about a director treating your unit. You sent a sad emoji to express your disappointment but then followed it up with “please send me a recipe when you have the time!”

Kisuke leaned into his seat. He was a patient man; he would figure your game out eventually.

Your heart raced as you sent the message off to Urahara. He had read receipts on, so you kept your phone glued to you as you waited for his response.

Why does it matter if he responds or not? I can’t change tomorrow.

But you felt strange, you quickly grabbed your phone and reiterated that the weekend was still on and reminded him to send you a recipe. You saw he read the message, but gave no response. Sighing, you leaned into your seat. It’s fine. It’ll be fine. There’s nothing going on.

Director Ukitake was a kind and generous man. He wanted to keep morale up in the company and occasionally treated units to luncheons. Sometimes they were catered if it was a larger unit, but a smaller division like your own would often be treated to the private section of a restaurant. And today was no exception.

You mingled with your colleagues as you saw in the corner of your eye Rukia talking with Kaien Shiba and Director Ukitake. The three of them seemed closer than you remembered, but you were proud of her. You knew Rukia worked hard to make a name for herself rather than relying on her brother-in-law’s connections. And it seemed that Director Ukitake and Shiba-san recognized her effort too with the way the three of them chatted away about proposals and projects coming.

You, on the other hand, felt slightly removed today. For some reason, you felt like you were miles away from everyone. Your mind wandered to what Urahara-san was doing. I hope he’s having a proper meal. You thought.

It was then your phone chimed, and you saw a reply from him. It was a link to a recipe for chicken and vegetable curry with udon. You couldn’t help but smile at your phone and send a reply, “this will work great! Bring some Tupperware” as you ended the text with a smile emoji.

Again, no response, but you saw the notification that he read your message. You felt a bit sad, but it wasn’t until Hanatarou waved his hand over your phone, that made you aware that you needed to get back to reality.

“Sorry, my brain’s been everywhere but here today.” You smiled sheepishly to Hanatarou.

“It’s alright, I hope it was something good! You seemed a bit sad today.”

You felt guilty for making Hanatarou worry, “no, I’m totally fine. Sometimes you just wake up on the wrong side of the bed, you know?” You laughed it off, trying to show him that you were ok. “Besides, it’s hard to be mad with food this good.”

Hanatarou chuckled, nodding his head in agreement as he watched you bite into your meal.

Maybe it was a good thing, but for the rest of the week, work had been more demanding than normal as of late. Your brain and thoughts were too preoccupied with incoming projects and deliverables, so you didn’t have time to dwell on Urahara-san.

But at the same time, it did hurt a tiny bit that he also didn’t text you either. Yet you tried to remind yourself that there was nothing more from this. He was just an acquaintance, a work friend at best. The two of you got along great, but an hour of conversation, with an occasional 15 minute coffee break, wasn’t really anything special. You kept reminding yourself there was nothing more and nothing less. You were doing him a service by teaching him how to cook… not to get your hopes up.

The debate between your mind and work and your feelings left you feeling exhausted. When the weekend rolled in, all you wanted to do was sleep and relax, completely forgetting that you didn’t tell what time Urahara-san could come by today.

You jolted awake and scrambled for your phone. “It’s been a busy week, but I hope you can still make it!” You texted him, followed by your address. “Let me know how much I owe you for groceries.”

You immediately noticed that he read the message, and just as quickly, he replied with “don’t worry about it.”

Your heart fluttered as you began to clean your home. Should you get drinks? A dessert? Your stomach was in knots at the thought of Urahara-san in your home. You felt jumpy at the slightest of sounds, from the hands ticking away at your clock, to the low humming buzz of your kitchen lights.

I need to relax. There’s nothing to worry or be anxious about. You told yourself repeatedly. You sipped some water when your phone beeped; Urahara had entered your buzzer code.

You felt your heart thump loudly in your ears as you waited for him. You splashed cold water on your face as you tried to relax. You looked over your counter and made sure knives and bowls were ready to prep food, and your stock pot was on the stove ready to be used.

You jolted again at the quick raps at your door. Peeking through the eyehole, you confirmed it was Urahara. You couldn’t help but laugh, was he wearing a bucket hat?

You opened the door and greeted him, surprised by his outfit of choice, a dark green shirt with grey sweats, with a large tote filled with groceries. “Green is a lovely colour on you.” You smiled at him, “I like your hat too!”

“Oh this ol’ thing? Had it for a long time now and it hasn’t let me down yet.” Kisuke chuckled, taking his hat off. “Thanks again for having me.” He smiled at you.

“Of course, it’s my pleasure.” You smiled politely. “Why don’t I take the groceries from you?”

“It’s fine, just lead me the way.” Urahara said as he motioned you forward.

Your kitchen was only a few steps away from your entryway, and as Kisuke placed the groceries on the table, you felt your cheeks warm realizing how large he was in comparison to your small kitchen.

Has he always been this big? You felt flustered, as he washed his hands. You noticed immediately the way his shoulders rolled under his shirt, and the muscles in his arms slightly flexing.

“Why don’t we get started then?” You asked, as you took out the contents of the tote.

“Tell me what to do and we’ll be done in no time.” Kisuke replied, giving you a smirk. You felt your cheeks grow even hotter.

“I think we should cut and marinate the chicken.” You stammered, avoiding his gaze, “everything else will be pretty easy afterwards.” Kisuke nodded. You ushered him to your cutting board as he took out the packaged chicken.

You stood next to him as he began to cut the chicken into bite-sized pieces. You were impressed by his knife skills.

“Are you sure you don’t know how to cook?” You remarked, as you watched him easily debone the chicken leg. “Your knife skills are impeccable.”

Kisuke shrugged his shoulders, “I’ve learned some surgical skills in my line of work.” As he quickly nicked a tendon off a joint, “I guess it’s a type of applied learning?” He tried to joke. But you didn’t laugh. It caught him off guard at how intensely you were watching his hands.

Next you instructed him to peel the potatoes, onions and carrots. The potatoes and carrots were done in relatively no time, but the onions were another story. You weren’t even the one cutting them, yet your eyes watered immediately. But Kisuke was unphased, as he sliced them away.

“What is your secret?” You asked, as you patted your eyes dry.

“My secret? For the onions?” He teased, “aren’t you the teacher? You’re supposed to be giving me tips.” He chuckled, finding it cute when you pouted at him.

“Fine, keep your secrets. I’ll find my own way.” You huffed.

With all the ingredients prepped and ready, you brought Kisuke to the stove and instructed him to turn on the heat to a particular setting. You explained the process and steps needed now, and how quickly it’ll come together. He nodded along, slightly hovering his hand over the pot to feel its heat. Once he thought it was ready, he put the chicken in to sear.

You were calm and patient with him, as he asked questions about certain steps. You were, to his surprise, not flirting with him, not teasing, or trying to seduce him. You were yourself and… he was enjoying it. He loved the way your eyes would look as you calmly explained a cooking technique to him, or why certain ingredients go in at certain times. Your patience was another surprise for him. He was certain the questions he asked would annoy you, but you took them in stride.

“Are you sure you don’t have a boyfriend?” Urahara teased, knowing full well you don’t after he researched you. “I’m sure you’d cook for him like this.”

Your cheeks felt warm again, “no…” you whispered, as you watched him sauté the vegetables. “I would like to though if I had one.” Urahara’s eyes perked up, but he remained collected.

“Well, more for me then.” He laughed, trying to put you at ease.

“I’m surprised you didn’t ask your partner to teach you, Urahara-san.” You replied, gaining the courage to look at him.

Without missing a beat, Kisuke responded with a chuckle. “I don’t have one.” He opened the curry roux box and broke in some pieces as you told him to, “lucky us, right?”

You were surprised by this. Why isn’t someone like him in a relationship? But before you could dwell on the thought further, you instructed him to slowly pour in the chicken stock. Soon your kitchen began to smell of fragrant spices of Japanese curry. Your mouth beginning to water at the thought of dinner soon to come.

“Good job, Urahara-san!” You smiled at him, then placed the lid over the pot. “We can let this simmer away.”

“You can call me Kisuke.” He replied, giving you a slight smile. “I’m in your home, no need for honorifics.” He grinned.

“Oh…” your cheeks might as well be sore with how flushed they were becoming, “if you insist!” You nervously chuckled, “why don’t I make us the udon and a simple salad while you have a seat?”

“Actually, if you could just tell me where the bathroom is, that would be great.”

You turned him around to your hallway and pointed him in its general direction. Kisuke nodded and took off, leaving you with your thoughts for the time being.

Ok, that wasn’t so bad! You realized.

While you were lost in thought, cutting vegetables for the side salad, Kisuke snuck into your bedroom.

It was wrong of him to be here, but he was curious. He was also never one to deny himself from his curiosity. He inspected your room and looked at what held your interests. He already took note of what books lined your shelves and what artwork was placed in your cozy home. Little things that would tell him more about you. He saw on your bed was a laptop. Exactly what he was looking for. He inserted a flash stick into its port and turned on the computer. Maybe your computer would tell him more.

Once his flash drive had run through the code, allowing him remote access on his end, he turned it off and placed it back on your bed. He took another look around your room, a thoughtful look on his face as he inspected everything.

Kisuke already thought you were a curious woman. A woman with many interests judging by the books and art pieces you collected. He looked at your vanity and saw different skincare products laid across, with dainty pieces of jewelry in a small dish.

A dark part of him also wanted to find something else. He pulled a drawer and saw your underwear neatly arranged. An assortment of panties, briefs and thongs. Kisuke couldn’t help but smile at the thought of you in nothing but a thong in the kitchen waiting for him.

Speaking of which, he knew he had to return before you went to get him.

Kisuke made his way back to your kitchen, watching your back as you stirred the pot. He wondered what you were thinking about as you stood there. He crept behind you quietly, before wrapping his arms around you, “it smells delicious.” He whispers into your ear.

You jolt immediately, deeper into his embrace. You were completely caught off guard by his presence, “I didn’t noti—”

With the way your head was angled to look up to him, Kisuke took his chance and pressed his lips against you. Your eyes widened in shock before he pulled away. “My cooking can’t be that bad!” He laughed, seeing the expression on your face before grabbing your wooden spoon out of your hand. He stirred the pot as you reeled in disbelief over what had happened, brushing your fingers across your lips. “And I see you already made the udon and salad.” Kisuke nodded his head approvingly, “thank you.”

You nodded your head, unsure of what to say.

“Why don’t you sit?” Kisuke asked, “these are the bowls we’ll be using, right?” Again, you nodded.

Kisuke prepared your bowl first, placing it right in front of you. He sat next to you at your small table, waiting for you to take the first bite.

You hesitantly picked up a piece of chicken with your chopsticks, blowing off the residual steam from it. You still were unsure of what to say, maybe food in my mouth will make this less awkward. You immediately shoved it into your mouth and your eyes went wide.

“This is delicious! You did a wonderful job” You exclaimed, as you went for another piece.

“Well, I had an amazing teacher.” Kisuke smiled, placing his hand on your thigh. You didn’t recoil at the touch, but your body felt a bit tense.

What should I do? You wondered, trying to understand what was happening. You hesitantly placed your hand on top of his, giving it a squeeze. “Or maybe you’re just an excellent student.”

“My teachers and professors would beg to differ, but I’ll accept your compliment nonetheless.” He chuckled, before eating his share.

The two of you ate in silence. You were too preoccupied with what had happened, and Kisuke was enjoying the look on your face.

“Ura—I mean Kisuke” you murmured, placing your chopsticks into your empty bowl, “why did you do that?”

“Do what?” He smiled.

You stared at him, disbelief washing over your face as your mind began to race even faster. “You kissed me!”

“And?”

“Why?”

“Why not?” He laughed.

“I – we’re not dating”

“So let’s date. I want to keep kissing you.” Kisuke teased, leaning into you.

Your face felt hot once again, “how about we have dessert” you tried to quickly get out of your seat. “I have some ice cream in my fre—”

“I brought a dessert for us to share actually.” Kisuke smiled, going back to his nearly empty tote. “I bought this chocolate cake for us to share.” You were shocked to see the bakery’s name, it was a fairly expensive and highly coveted store that sold limited pastries.

“I always wanted to try one of their cakes!” You remarked.

“Then let’s dig in.” Kisuke smiled, already knowing where you kept your forks. Kisuke opened the box and cut a piece of the cake with his fork, before putting it to your face, “you should have the first bite.”

You were embarrassed but opened your mouth as you ate the piece of cake. Your eyes widened at the rich flavour of the chocolate, and the moist layers of cake.

“It’s that good?” Kisuke smirked, enjoying your reaction. You nodded your head and took a forkful for him, placing it by his mouth.

He closed his eyes and leaned forward, wrapping his lips around the utensil. You couldn’t look away, but felt dirty at what you had just seen. Flustered, you put the fork down, but saw that Kisuke had a smudge of icing near his mouth.

“Oh you got some on you,” you murmured, and out of habit, you reached towards him to wipe it away. But as soon as you held up your hand, Kisuke pulled you into his lap, causing you to shriek… except that it was muffled, with his lips on you once again.

Kisuke’s grip around your hips was firm, as you stilled in his lap. You didn’t know what to do, as you clung on to Kisuke as he pressed his lips against yours. You felt his tongue swipe at your mouth, causing you to gently open your mouth. You tasted the chocolate off his lips, before you pulled away. You took deep breaths as you saw Kisuke’s cheeks grow a tint of pink.

You licked your lips, unsure of what the feeling was coursing through your body. The only thing you knew was that you wanted more. With a jolt of courage, you placed your lips gently on Kisuke’s. Your thoughts were racing, but you didn’t care.

You felt wanted. With Kisuke’s warm hand slipping under your shirt, you also felt needed, and you were just as needy. You pulled away from him to catch your breath. Kisuke’s grey eyes were transfixed on you, staring directly at you with such intensity you had never seen before.

It scared you. And your anxiety crawled its way back into your brain, as you got off his lap.

Laughing nervously, “well this was fun!” You immediately went to grab the bowls and utensils and place them in your sink. “I’ll pack the rest for you to take home.”

Kisuke narrowed his eyes, watching your demeanour shift. You weren’t exactly cold with him, but he sensed a wall that no amount of kissing or flirting would break.

“I’ll help,” Kisuke calmly said, as he went to wash the dishes. “It’s the least I can do.”

“No, you’ve done plenty!” You exclaim, “I can’t make a guest do the dishes.” As you tried to pull him away from the sink, but he was surprisingly strong and sturdy.

Kisuke chuckled as he steady your body, “it’s fine.” He gave a quick peck on your forehead, your face heating up once again, “you having to pack the food away is more than enough.”

“Ok…” you sighed, resigning to portion out the rest of the food.

You ensured Kisuke had everything he brought back in his tote, making sure he didn’t forget anything.

“Thank you for the cake and company tonight.” You murmured, avoiding his gaze.

“And thank you for teaching me how to make curry udon.” Kisuke smiled, “hopefully we can do this again?”

You nodded your head.

“I’ll see ya at work tomorrow then.” Kisuke grinned, his bucket hat covering his eyes, leaving you unsure of what look he was giving you. The two of you waved each other off as he departed down your elevator.

Locking your door, you slumped.

You were so exhausted, and now you had to deal with work tomorrow! At least you didn’t need to worry about lunch.

Thank you for reading!! I want to thank @worldsetfree for beta'ing this chapter for me. The smut is coming soon!!

[kittyykattxoxo]

talk so pretty but your heart got teeth (part 1)

pairing : rhea ripley x fem!reader

summary : you and rhea became quick friends after you joined the wwe, opting to travel and train together, but along the way you developed feelings for the eradicator. after a mix up with your reservation that leaves you without a room, rhea offers to let you stay with her. will you be able to survive the night? who knows.

word count : 1714

content warning : just a bit of a heated makeout session...this time ;)

The heavy hotel door clicked shut behind you as you tossed your duffel bag onto the nearest chair with a tired sigh. The day had been long - meet and greets, interviews, and hours of travel. Your muscles ached with fatigue, but the real reason that you were on edge had nothing to do with the schedule and everything to do with the other woman tossing her own bag down across the room.

Rhea Ripley.

You’d been friends for years - traveling together, training together, celebrating wins and comforting each other after losses. Hell, she’d been the reason you made it from NXT to the main roster in the first place. She’d become your rock, but somewhere along the way, you’d fallen for her. Hard.

You’d been able to maintain your composure for the most part, keep on a mask of indifference when it came to your real feelings, but lately it had been getting increasingly difficult to keep it bottled up. The signs were there in the way your heart tripped over itself whenever she flashed you her wicked grin, or in how your gaze lingered just a second too long when she peeled off whatever oversized shirt she was wearing and revealed her toned, tattooed body. 

And now, as if fate was having a laugh at your expense, the two of you had wound up sharing a hotel room before the next day’s event - one bed, of course. The hotel had somehow had a glitch in its system that left you without a room and, being the amazing friend that she was, Rhea had offered to let you stay with her. You’d thought about turning her down, but you were so tired that searching for another hotel seemed like too much of a hassle, so you’d agreed. After all, it was just one night, right?

“Hell yeah,” Rhea groaned, her voice filling the silence that had been in the room as she stretched her arms over her head, her shirt lifting just enough to show a tantalizing glimpse at her toned abdomen. “I need a shower or I’m going to pass out smelling like the airport.”

You barely heard her of course, too busy staring at the thin sheen of sweat still clinging to her collarbone, but eventually you managed to pull yourself together enough to let out a chuckle, trying to pretend that the sight of her exposed skin wasn’t driving you crazy.

Of course, she caught you looking. “See something you like?” she teased, a coy smirk on her lips.

You snorted, trying to play it off as if everything was just fine. “Nah, just admiring your dedication to hygiene, mate.” She laughed, rolling her eyes as she reached for her toiletry bag and sauntered toward the bathroom. As she moved, your eyes stayed on her a beat too long, drawn to the powerful curve of her thighs and the slight sway of her hips. When the door shut behind her and the sound of running water filled the room, you gave a sigh of relief.

“Get a grip,” you muttered under your breath, shaking your head, though the traitorous throb between your legs let you know that you most certainly weren’t getting a grip.

You sank onto the edge of the bed, staring blankly at your phone, but it was impossible to focus when your mind kept conjuring images of her beneath the stream of warm water - her head tilted back, droplets gliding down her toned stomach, over her tattooed arms, between her breasts.. “Fuck,” you cursed softly under your breath as you squeezed your thighs together, the images sending a heat between them. When the bathroom door finally swung open twenty minutes later, steam poured out, curling around Rhea like something out of a fantasy. She strolled out in nothing but a thin black sports bra and a pair of sleep shorts that barely covered the swell of her ass. Her damp hair hung in wild waves around her shoulders, strands clinging to her glistening skin. Your stomach tightened and more images flooded your mind. She was a walking sin, created just to tempt you. “Your turn,” she spoke, oblivious to just how hot and bothered she was making you. You swallowed hard and made a beeline for the bathroom, needing to put distance between you before you did something stupid. You opted to take a cold shower, but the cold water did nothing to cool the heat burning under your skin. You stayed under longer than necessary anyways, forcing yourself to calm down. When you finally emerged nearly thirty minutes later, you found her sprawled across the bed, flipping through channels on the tv. Her legs were stretched out, one bent slightly at the knee, her foot tucked under the opposite thigh. The pose was casual, but on her it drove you insane anyways. “Anything good on?” you asked, clearing your throat as you approached the bed hesitantly. “Nah, just the same old crap,” she replied, though as she looked your way a smirk crossed her lips and she patted the empty space beside her. “Come on, I don’t bite,” she said, arching a brow mischievously. “Unless you want me to, of course.” It was enough to make your stomach do a slow flip. You hesitated still, but then a dramatic pout came across her face. “Seriously? You’re gonna make me cuddle myself over here?”

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head as you tried to wipe away all hesitation before finally crawling into the bed beside her. At first, you kept a polite distance, but Rhea didn’t seem to be having it. With a playful huff, she hooked her arm around your waist and dragged you closer until you were pressed against her side. Your heart stuttered when her fingers absentmindedly started tracing slow, lazy circles along your lower back. The warmth of her skin seeped through your thin sleep shirt, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. You told yourself to relax - to enjoy the moment without overthinking it, but then you felt Rhea’s hand slip lower, her fingers brushing the curve of your hip and lingering there. You felt your breath catch.

“Rhea…” you whispered, but it came out as more of a plea than a warning.

Rhea hummed softly, her lips so close to your ear that you felt the warm puff of her breath. “Hmm?” Her fingertips grazed the bare skin beneath your shirt, slipping just under the hem and suddenly there was no more questioning whether it was an accident or not. You knew it wasn’t and so did she. You shivered slightly, her fingertips leaving a trail of light goosebumps over your skin. Your pulse quickened, the heat beginning to build low in your stomach as her hand continued to move, tracing lazy patterns over your skin. “You’re tense,” she murmured, her voice low. “Want me to help you relax?” You turned your face toward her, and suddenly you were far too close. Her eyes were hooded, but you could see how the stormy blue hues of her irises had darkened with lust. Her gaze flickered to your lips - she was giving you the chance to stop her. But you didn’t. Instead, you whispered, “Please”, almost as if pleading with her for more. That was all it took because within milliseconds her mouth crashed against yours, hot and insistent. You let out a soft, startled gasp, but she swallowed the sound eagerly, her tongue slipping past your lips. The kiss slowed after that, almost as if she were teasing you, her teeth nipping lightly at your lower lip before her tongue would follow to soothe it, allowing you to feel the cool metal of her tongue piercing. You melted into her, your hand moving to grip the back of her neck and pull her closer. She growled softly into your mouth at the motion, the low and primal sound sending a shiver through you.  Without breaking the kiss, Rhea rolled on top of you, straddling your waist. Her thighs bracketed your hips, warm and firm, as she pinned you down with just enough weight to make you squirm. She broke the kiss then, her lips moving first to your jaw before she began trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses along your neck. You arched into her touch, whimpering softly when she bit down lightly on your skin before proceeding to soothe the mark with her tongue.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” she rasped against your skin, her breath hot and uneven. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this - I thought I was going to become an old maid waiting for you to make the first move.”

Your face burnt with heat at her admission, thinking of all the times before that you’d certainly wanted to take things further with Rhea, but had easily talked yourself out of them. You didn’t think she’d ever be interested in you, but you’d obviously thought incorrectly.

Rhea’s hands slid under your shirt, slowly dragging the fabric up, her dark nails lightly raking over your stomach. She leaned back slightly, her eyes still dark with lust, as she tugged your shirt over your head, discarding it on the floor nearby.

Her gaze raked over you hungrily afterwards, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. “Fuck,” she muttered, almost reverently, before she lowered herself, her mouth latching onto the sensitive skin just above your collarbone. She sucked lightly, her sharp teeth grazing your skin just enough to make your hips twitch beneath her.

You let out a shaky moan, threading your fingers through her dark hair and tugging slightly. She groaned into your skin in response, the sound vibrating against you. Her hands began to slide down your sides before gripping your thighs firmly. Rhea spread your legs slightly, moving to settle between them. You replied by arching up instinctively, your hips rolling against her, desperate for more friction.

Rhea pulled back at the motion, just enough to meet your eyes. Her thumb brushed over your lower lip, her eyes hooded and smoldering. “No more running” she murmured.

You reached up to cup her face, nodding your head. “No more running.”

And then her lips were on yours again, the kiss slow, deep, and utterly consuming.