#i spent the better half of my weekend on this

[chaoisurmaster]

geto can’t take the hint

Wrote this probably a year and a half ago. Kind of proofread. Enjoy!

[9:48 p.m] You: I don’t like where this is going anymore. We’re over Suguru. Do not contact me.

One task for your Friday night was to break up with your current bae. You spent 20 whole minutes trying to type out a quick break up text. It shouldn’t have been this difficult, but you knew that no matter what, Suguru was not going to take it well.

You press send on your screen and quickly go to block his number. “That’s finally done.” You breathe a sigh of relief. “And I packed up all his shit in a box and I’ll give it to Satoru on Monday so he can give it to him. Works out perfectly.” You walk out of your room and head to your front door. You’re in the process of grabbing your coat and purse when there’s a knock on your door.

You’re frozen in place. Your heart rattling inside your ribcage. ‘There’s no way he would show up here that fast, right?’ Slowly and quietly, you move to the front door to look out the peephole, your chest heaves up and down as you open the door.

“Shoko! I said I would meet you at the bar!” You compose yourself. Calm washes over as she starts to tell you that she was in the area and decided to meet you so you can go to the bar together. “Geez, are you okay? You look like someone stomped on your hamster.” She teases as you two are seated and served your first drink. You thank the waiter.

“How would you even know what a person looks like after their hamster gets stomped on?” You quizzically glance at her as you sip your amaretto sour. She shrugs, “I have lore.” She takes a big chug of her beer. You laugh and roll your eyes at her. You two start chatting more about your work week and what each other has planned for the weekend.

“Oh look who just walked in. Over here!” She waves. You’re cursing yourself for being in the seat that has your back to the entrance. ‘Oh God, no.’ A large hand pats your shoulder and you turn, the panic subsides again, “Hey Yuki! Hi Utahime! Oh my gosh, Haibara!” You stand up and hug each one of them. You’re even shocked that somehow, Kento was talked into going out. “Wow, I’m gonna buy you a drink just for succeeding in what we fail to do Haibara!” You giggle.

Kento playfully rolls his eyes. “Have I really turned down everyone’s offer to go out for drinks before?” He asks. You all reply in unison, “Yes!” You’re feeling so much better as you get up to go to the bathroom. As you’re washing your hands, Utahime walk in. “Oh hey, Dumbass and Suguru just showed up. He’s ordering you another drink right now.” She casually mentions as she slips into the stall.

Your stomach drops to your ass. You just nod your head and dry your hands. You quickly rush out of the bathroom. ‘Fuck!Fuck!Fuck!’ You start to tell yourself that you can grab your things and slip out without being noticed. Your eyes widen as you get closer to the table and see Suguru, all smiles and making the group laugh. ‘Oh fucking hell.’ Satoru spots you and waves his lanky arm in a frantic manner, ‘Why is he so fucking insufferable?’ you think.

“There’s your girlfriend Suguru. You can stop crying now.” He laughs and Suguru shakes his head. “Hi pretty.” He purrs at you, as he stands up and kisses you. You’re like petrified wood and stupidly, you kiss him back. “Oh I took your seat.” Satoru throws in. “That’s okay Satoru. I ca—” Geto cuts you off, “Sit on my lap.” He sits and pulls you down. You fit perfectly on top of his thick, muscular thighs.

He snuggly wraps his arms around your waist. Such powerful arms, you know you can’t wriggle away. “Suguru…” you dip down and whisper in his ear, “Did you not get my text?” You ask. He looks up at you and smiles. “I did.” You’re equally confused and shocked. “Then what are you doing?” You ask. “I’m having a fun night out with my beautiful girlfriend and our friends. Oh look, here’s your drink I ordered for you.” He thanks the waiter and hands it to you. “And don’t worry, you can drink as much as you want tonight. I know you had two stressful presentations to finish at work this week. I’ll get you home safely and stay the night with you.”

He kisses your cheek. The group lets out a chorus of “Awes.” You sheepishly smile and sip the Long Island iced tea he handed you. He runs his hand up your back and softly places it on the back of your neck. You freeze. He seductively whispers in your ear, “I know you’re just stressed babe and your text from earlier didn’t mean anything. It’s okay. I’m not mad. Matter of fact, finish your drink and I’ll take you home and pamper you for the rest of the night. You deserve it.” He kisses your temple and you lock eyes with him.

You cannot, for the life of you, read him right now. His body language is relaxed, he doesn’t feel tense. His face has no signs of upset. He genuinely looks happy and unbothered. It’s scaring you. “Would you like that?” He asks as he rubs your back. You nod your head and quickly down your tea. “Ready?” He takes note of your empty glass. “Ye-yes.” You stutter. You two say your goodbyes to everyone. He takes your hand in his and you both walk to his car.

Being the gentleman he is, Suguru helps you in the passenger seat and buckles you in. He places a kiss on your forehead as he shuts the passenger door. Your hands are sweaty and your throat drier than when you and Shoko share two blunts to blow off steam. Suguru places his right hand on your thigh and you flinch a little. ‘Be fucking calm bitch!’ your inner monologue screams. “I’m sorry sweetie. Is everything okay?” His words were laced with concern. “I’m fine.” You quickly smile at him and look out the passenger window. “Don’t worry, love. I’ll take all that stress away as soon as we get to your place.”

He drives quickly and parks in your complex parking lot. You two take the elevator to your floor and make it to your front door. You go to search for your keys but Suguru takes his spare out and unlocks the door. “After you.” He smiles sweetly. You mumble a ‘thank you’ and step inside. He helps take your coat and shoes off. You hang your purse up. He places his hands on your hips as he comes up behind you and kisses the nape of your neck. The shivers that get sent down your spine could have frozen all the circles of hell.

You step forward and turn around. You put your arm out, an attempt to put some distance between you and your ex-boyfriend, er boyfriend? “Suguru, what are you doing?” You wish you sounded confident but your question came out so shaky that it’s pathetic. Suguru feigns innocence, “I’m here to help my girlfriend relax. Honey, I told you, I’ll help you de-stress tonight.” He takes a step forward and you take a step back. You run into the kitchen island and he puts his arms on either side of you, caging you in.

“That text I sent you earlier, I meant it. I meant every word of it!” You try to raise your voice but it comes out as soft as a whisper.

“Oh did you?” He coos, you nod your head. “You meant every single word of it?” he hisses as he presses himself against you, his lips mere centimeters from yours. Your bottom lip shakes and you’re fighting off the tears that threaten to cascade down your hot cheeks. Suguru notices it all and he pouts, he would never cause you harm.

You are the one shining piece he has in his life. He’s so utterly in love and devoted to you. Infatuated with you to the point where some people might think it’s unhealthy. Not him though. He adores you and anyone who says he’s obsessed in a bad way, just has never been madly in love before. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong? Did I do something to upset you?” He gingerly brushes the tendrils of hair from your face, “Talk to me pretty. Is it just work that’s bothering you? Am I not being a good boyfriend? Tell me what I did and how I can fix this?”

His words come out coated in saccharine. You swallow hard and shake your head to free you from the trance he had started to put you under. “This! I hate when you do this! You treat me like a goddamn 6 year old!” You push him away and you only are able to because he lets you.

You walk towards your room and continue, “You think I’m this delicate piece of glass that can’t tie her own shoes! You don’t even let me order what I want when we go out for dinner!” You scream as you turn around to face him. Suguru furrows his brows and puts his hands up, “Baby, I thought you liked when I catered to you like that. You’ve never said anything before,” he saunters to you, “You’re just so important to me, the most important person actually. I just want to make sure you’re taken care of to my standards.” He wraps his arms around your waist and looks down at you. “Wouldn’t I be a bad boyfriend if I didn’t take care of the love of my life?” he questions as he kisses your forehead.

You place your hands on his shoulders, “I didn’t say you’re a bad boyfriend—” he cuts you off “Then you don’t like when I spoil you?” He knows what he’s doing and unfortunately, you’re falling for it. “No! I love when you spoil me. I just—” he interrupts you again. “I spoil you too much then. Okay, I’ll dial it back.” He kisses the crook of your neck and kneads your ass with his hands. “Suguru, no that’s not it.”

A soft moan comes out of you as he pulls your skirt up and palms your ass. “Hmm okay so then I keep on doing every single thing I’ve been doing and don’t change a thing? Got it.” He rips your lace panties off you and you gasp. “I don’t thi—” his lips crashing against yours end your sentence. Suguru lifts you up to lay you on your bed. He discards the remainder of your clothes and his as he settles himself in between your legs.

“Suguuu...” you whine as he harshly spreads your legs wide open. He has a perfect view of that leaky pink pussy he loves so much. His mouth waters and he gets a little upset. Earlier you had believed you had ended your relationship with him and that means you would have taken away this sweet cunt from him. He makes a mental note to punish you another time for that. This time, he has to be sweet to remind you that there’s no one out there better for you than him.

“Mmmm there’s that pretty pussy I’ve been thinking about all day. My pretty pussy.” He places the pads of his thumbs on either side of your throbbing slit and spreads your folds open. He looks at you, “Isn’t that right love? She’s still mine?” He asks in a condescending tone but that’s lost on you cause you’re under his spell. You’re akin to a fly caught in a spider’s web. Fixing to be spun in silk and have life sucked out of you. You arch your back a little and whine. “Yes Sugu, she’s yours. All yours.” You bite your bottom lip. He bends down and softly blows air on your bundle of nerves. A louder whine slips out from your mouth.

“Princess…” he starts as he takes the head of his dick and taps it against your pulsing clit, “did you really mean what you said in that text earlier?” Suguru questions tenderly. You shake your head and whine at the slow taps. “Words pretty girl. Gotta use your words.” He sweetly tells you. “No Sugu. I didn’t mean it.” He slowly slides himself inside you and presses down on your womb at the same time. “Fuck! Ah ahaa!” You whimper at how he slowly fills you up.

“Then why did you say that to me baby? You trying to hurt my feelings?” He fakes a pout as he fully bottoms out. Suguru groans, “God, this pussy feels heavenly. She was made just for me. Only for me.” He breathes out. “Answer me, Princess.” He softly places a hand under each thigh and pushes your knees up by your ears. You moan out, “Sugu! Ngh—ah ah ah fuck!” Your eyes roll back as Suguru starts to propel into you at a snail's pace. You quickly look at him and shake your head, he gets mad when you don’t answer him, “I wasn’t trying to -oh shit- hurt your feelings. I promise.”

Satisfied with your answer, he thrusts a dial harder. “No baby? Then why did you say that? Have these three years meant nothing to you?” He questions again. He takes one hand off your thigh and licks his thumb, he starts using it to rub your clit. You close your eyes and arch your back again, the sensation causing your toes to curl.

Suguru smirks and he presses his thumb harder into your sensitive bud. “Answer me.” He demands. “I was just stressed!” You blurt out as tears pool in your eyes, “Just stressed from work! I’m sorry Sugu! So sorry. Please don’t be mad at me!”

He hums and takes his thumb off your clit and shoves it in your mouth. You comply and suck it, always so obedient for him and you don’t even know it. He takes his thumb out and goes to tweak a nipple of yours with the same hand. “I thought so Princess. I knew that’s what the problem was.” He starts to thrust deeper and harder. You can’t control the sweet sounds leaving your mouth and they’re the most beautiful harmony Suguru has ever heard. The louder you are, the better and don’t you dare try to cover your mouth.

“I’m — aah shit— sorry Sugu. Please don’t be mad —ah ah fuck, right there— at me.” You blubber out as the fat tip of his dick pummels your cervix. “Shhh Princess. I’m not mad at you. Not at all.” He leans down and kisses you sloppily. He can see you’re going crossed eyed. “All you have to do is just quit your job. Okay?” He rolls his hips and you can feel every vein on his dick rubbing against your plush pink walls. The squelching is getting louder and louder. “You hear me Princess?”

He looks at your face. You’re so fucked out already but some piece of you snaps you back and you answer him, “Yes Daddy. Qu—quit my job.” You grab onto his shoulders and he comes down to kiss you again. He presses his forehead against yours. “Feels s-so good. Feel so fu-full.” You moan out as he slams harder into you. “Yeah baby? Daddy making you feel good? You like that?”

He kisses you again. “Yes Daddy. Love it.” You’re babbling and he knows he’s won, “Love it when Daddy fucks me like this.” Your toes curl more and you clench around his thick length.

He groans and can tell you’re almost reaching your climax. “Just be a good girl for Daddy and he’ll fuck you like this every day.” He hisses as you clench tighter around him. “I’ll be good. I’ll be your good girl.” Your hands tighten their grip on his shoulders, nails digging into his skin and leaving cresent shapes. “I’m cumminggg.” You whine out and Suguru starts slamming his hips harder into you.

“Cum for me Princess.” and that’s all it takes for you to be pushed over the edge of ecstasy. Your orgasm snaps and cascades over you in waves. The squelching is embarrassingly loud. “Fu-fuck!” You whine out and squeeze your eyes shut. “I’m cumming too princess.” Suguru groans as he sloppily thrusts in and out of you. “I fucking love you.” He kisses you. “Fucking love you so much. God, your pussy feels so amazing. Wanna live in this pussy.”

And he releases his personal ribbons of white inside you. You both are breathing hard and covered in sweat. Suguru slowly pulls out and you whine at the loss of his big dick. He stares lovingly at the mixture of your juices and his. A beautiful mess that only you two get to make together.

He lays down next to you and wraps his arms around you. You snuggle up to his chest and kiss it. “I love you.” You softly say. Suguru looks down at you and smiles, “I love you more princess.” He tenderly kisses your forehead.

As you’re drifting off to sleep you swear you hear him asking if you want him to cook breakfast for you both in the morning. You let out a hum that he takes as a ‘yes.’ Suguru smiles triumphantly. You have just, unknowingly, agreed to move in with him so he can always make sure you’re taken care of the right way, his way.

a/n: I had alot of fun when I wrote this! I love Suguru that refuses to accept a break up.

[stray-cat-with-internet-access]

Nighttime visitor

simon "ghost" riley x reader tags: fem reader, medical/wounds descriptions, brief mention of period, burns, he´s scary but nice, fluff kinda, english is not my first language

this is inspired by a personal experience in one of my many stays in hospitals, enjoy

For the tenth time, you check your phone.

12:15am, is not that late.

Sleep is determined to elude you, the plastic covers over the thin mattress scratch the skin on your back and the distant beeps are about to make you lose what little sanity you have left. There´s no TV to not disturb the rest of the patients so that isn´t an option either.

“This is stupid”

Kicking off the covers, you stuffed your feet into your Crocs and grabbed your hoodie from the corner of the bed, almost knocking over the IV pole and pausing for a few seconds to mutter a curse.

This is so stupid

You spent a day and a half in observation, “perks” of being admitted on a weekend. Yes, you fainted at work, no, it's no big deal, you just burned yourself out as usual, but combined with the lack of sleep and the surprise arrival of your period, your brain decided that it had enough of your shit and just turned off the lights in the middle of your office.

Is this a cry for help from your body? Maybe, you've decided that's a conversation for another time, right now you're sick of this damn hospital.

You leave your room as casually as possible. The nurse at the end of the corridor hasn't seen you, or has simply decided to ignore you.

Right now there is only one place in your mind: the open space with a view of greenery in the middle of the visitors' area.

However, as soon as you walk down the stairs to the second wing of the hospitalization area, something catches your attention.

Is that music?

The area seems deserted, so a room with a soft glow coming from the gap between double doors and the big NO VISITORS sign stands out.

Curiosity won and you changed course to take a peek. There was a man in bed. One of his legs was propped up by some sort of medical pillow, and bandages covered some parts of his body. There was a laptop on the overbed table, and there seemed to be a film playing.

You were so engrossed in trying to figure him out that you almost jumped out of your skin when his voice reached you.

"You're not staff"

His voice is a deep baritone. He sounds relaxed and not at all scared of your presence. His eyes are sharp even in the dim light and the room feels small for him.

"Ah shit, I'm sorry!" You try to talk in a low voice, poking your head through the door. "No no, I'm from the third wing, I'm just stretching my legs, sorry to bother you"

Pausing whatever he is seeing in the laptop he assessed at you for a moment.

"Come closer"

Despite being in such a vulnerable position, his voice is commanding and it feels that the only reason he is asking you to come is because he can't do it himself in his state.

An accent colours his words. British?

You entered the room with measured steps, the smell of alcohol and cleaning products is particulary strong. Stopping at the end of his bed you can get a better look at him: huge, menacing, like a wounded lion, no matter how battered it still send chills down your spine. One of his arms is in a sling, there´s some cuts and abrasions in almost every part of his body and his good arm, covered in tattoos, is wrapped with the IV and the blood pressure cuff. But his leg is the worst. The wound is extensive, the skin is angry red and swollen at the edges.

He notices your staring immediately.

"It's burned. Needs to be kept raw for it to heal and isolated to avoid infection"

His tone sounds bored and unimpressed while he shifts on his pillows, trying to get some comfort in his seated position.

"I'm sorry, it's just that I heard your laptop... I thought we couldn't keep stuff like that here"

There´s a glint of amusement in his eyes.

"They don't like to confine me with other patients, I make them nervous, so they let me have some privileges"

“How…?”

He suddenly extended his good arm to loudly drag closer a chair, interrupting your question and making you flinch at the sound.

"You can stay if you keep silent"

He pressed play on his laptop, repositioned himself in bed and his eyes glued to the screen again, as if you weren't there at all.

The hairs in the back of your neck stands up in alert, but something in his voice tells you that comply with him will always be the best option, so you moved closer to him and sat down next to his bed, tucking your legs.

The first minutes passed with you stiff in the chair, but time went on sliding in a comfortable silence, actually enjoying some of the movie.

By the time you started to doze off it was almost 2am, his cold fingers on your neck what woke you up, making you gasp softly.

He laughs hoarsely, definitely enjoying every time he can get a scare out of you “Movie´s over birdie, go to your room”

You blink the sleep off, getting up abruptly and remembering that you willingly secluded yourself with a stranger in the middle of the night just because you were bored.

“Yes, you must be tired, I´ll go” You grab the chair to returned it to its previous position when his hand closes tightly around your wrist.

“Ask for Riley”

“What?”

“From now on, at visiting hours ask for Riley, they´ll bring you to me”

He doesn't let go, he waits for your answer and your mouth dries up with fear, you don't know this man, he's scary, hell, you'll be fired soon. But once again something urges you to say yes.

“I though you didn´t want visitors”

“I changed my mind”

THANK YOU FOR READING dividers are from @thecutestgrotto

[emdeejaydraws]

figured this one could use an update, so here it is in all its full colour glory

click for better quality

[cheswirls]

short asl thing based on @where-does-the-heart-lie's modern au :) i started this over a year ago but the beginning is all dialogue and felt more like a script to me i suppose??? which deflated my desire to work on it. anyway i checked it over recently and it's completely fine lmfao, self-confidence restored here we go !

-

"Yo. Aren't you usually in the middle of your shift by now?"

"I've been banned from the hospital."

"Like, for life?"

"No. For the next, uh.. Twenty-two hours."

"That's oddly specific."

"It was twenty-four, but I fell asleep after leaving the building."

"That wouldn't have to do with why they kicked you out, at all?"

"Hmmm. I'm too sleep-deprived, apparently."

"Ah. And, um, you called me because...?"

"I pressed a random number in my call log after waking up. Lucky you, I guess."

"Yeah. Right. Lucky me. And your car keys are...?"

"Confiscated."

"Ah, right, of course."

A beat of silence. Two. Three, then "Look, if you're busy, then–"

"No, no.  You called me, so I'll be there. Give me twenty minutes."

"Alright. Thank–"

"Thank someone else. Also, if you fall asleep in my car, I'm taking it as express permission to drive you around wherever I want."

"Ugh, go die. I don't even know why I bothered."

"LUCKY YOU, I guess," sounds off way too loudly in his ear. "No take backs. See you in ten."

"I thought you said–" Sabo breaks off as the call ends, leaving him staring blankly at his phone's too-dim screen. He squints, turns the brightness all the way up, and still squints as the sunlight proves too strong for the display.

Ace shows up in more than ten but decidedly less than twenty minutes. Sabo doesn't waste much brain power on it, only climbing into the passenger seat and yawning into his palm while his other hand fixes the seatbelt into the buckle. Not a second too soon, too, as Ace roars the engine to life and peels away from the curb at record speed.

Ace fiddles with the radio. He turns the music up, then dial it back down to inaudible. They hit the expressway and he leans over the steering wheel, frowning with his eyes fixed on the road far ahead. Sabo yawns again and this appears to be the limit to his patience. 

"Hey, so, I had a thought after you hung up on me."

Sabo grimaces. "You mean you–"

"Today's Wednesday."

He doesn't elaborate. Sabo is too tired to process. "Yes," he follows, after a second. He glances at the sky out the front window. "What time is it?"

"Oh, uh." Ace fumbles with hand placement so he can lift his watch to his face. "Nine forty."

Sabo takes a couple beats to try and process this, moves his eyes away from the skyline, and sighs as he pulls his phone out. 2:47 is what the display reads, which sounds much more believable.

"How did the minute hand get off?" he mutters to himself, chancing a look at Ace's busted wristwatch. Ace raises a brow, taking his gaze off the road to scrutinize Sabo. "No, it doesn't matter," he mutters to himself once more, sliding his phone away back on his person and out of his hands.

"My point is," Ace continues, like he hasn't just been interrupted by a whole thing. "Your timeout will be done midday Thursday. Did they switch your days off?"

"No." Sabo sighs. "They technically gave me the next thirty-six hours. Technically closer to forty. Something like that. I go back in on Friday. Sometime.” He tries to smile and it turns out very lopsided, from that he can make out in the rearview mirror. “Can you tell I’m tired?”

“I don’t think ‘tired’ is an accurate description,” Ace quips. “When did you eat a proper meal last?”

“Uh, yesterday. Maybe.”

“Maybe??”

“A ‘proper meal’ means different things to the two of us,” Sabo huffs. “On my account it was yesterday. I’ve had food since then, of course.”

“Alright, so here’s the plan,” Ace announces before absolutely whipping it around a curve. Sabo is his passenger in the passenger seat and had fully prepared to be so when he got in the vehicle, but he’d been vastly underprepared for this sudden course of action, which is how he ends up halfway out of his seat with his cheek slammed into the cold window. Ace doesn’t quite notice his brother’s terminal velocity until the car is once again on the straight and narrow, and only then it’s because of the audible thunk Sabo’s face makes when it collides with the glass.

“Aw shit. You good bro?”

“Ow,” Sabo mutters. “If I have broken bones I’m suing your ass.”

“Well, if you’re good enough to make jokes, I think you’re better than you’re letting on.” Ace keeps the wheel steady with one knee while he takes both hands away to crack his fingers. When he glances over at Sabo again, he looks even more pathetic – like he’s becoming one with the glass. “Anyway, as I was saying.

“I’m taking your ass home. You’re going straight to sleep and while you crash, I’ll make you something decent to eat and stick it in the fridge for you to heat up later. I’ll even make you two servings to eat two different times, since you clearly can’t be trusted to take care of yourself correctly.”

“Ouch.”

“I want you to conk out for as long as your body allows. We can reset your sleep schedule tomorrow, alright? Put your phone on silent; do not answer any calls. In fact, you know what, just give it to me.

Sabo glances over to see Ace’s hand held out to him, palm up. Fingers wiggling expectantly. His lips pull up into a grimace. “I’m not doing that.”

“Fine.” Ace takes his hand back. “But you will comply with everything else.”

“Wow! It’s so funny, I didn’t realize you turned into my mother overnight! Really tapped into your mom potential, huh? Anything exciting happen in your life that would cause that? I guess I wouldn’t know, since I’ve been a zombie for the past two days.”

“There’s nothing wrong with acting like your older brother, you dipshit, especially if you keep putting yourself through the wringer like this. You go home. You sleep. You wake up and eat. You go back to sleep. Then we do laundry. Does that sound agreeable?”

“That’s negotiable, at the least,” Sabo mumbles. “I will accept good food as a form of bribery.”

“Oh, nice, because I’m flat broke at the moment.”

Sabo makes a mental note of that, and then they’re pulling into the driveway. Ace lets him exit the vehicle by himself and then promptly manhandles him all the way onto the couch where it will be easier to force his body to relax than in a real bed. Ace knows this, so he calls him weird before chucking a loose blanket at his head. Sabo is almost too tired to function at this point, so he lets Ace have the last laugh in favor of finally closing his eyes.

Coming to is a surreal experience, especially since the sun is still out. He must make a noise because Ace is suddenly within view. His limbs are tangled in the blanket and still so heavy that he doesn’t bother moving. “Thought you would be gone,” he half-groans, eyes slipping shut again for a moment.

“I did leave,” Ace confirms. “I had to go pilfer some stuff to make stew with. It’s almost done, so I’ll hang here until then.”

Pilfer. That could mean any number of things. Sabo chooses to believe in the option where Ace is an upstanding citizen, and then remembers Ace saying earlier that he had no money. He frowns and squirms on the cushions enough to where it looks like he’s checking his pockets. “Where’s my wallet, Ace?” he bluffs.

“Somewhere around here,” Ace pipes up. “Your stomach will thank you for your contributions to the Portgas Household’s pantry!”

“Ugh, I got robbed,” he complains. “This sucks. ‘m going back to sleep.” He rolls over so his back is to Ace.

“Yeah, you do you, bro. Stew will still be here later. I’ll see you when you’re back in the world of the living.”

—

Luffy comes in late that night and slams the front door shut as loud as humanly possible. When he appears in the main room, he doesn’t seem to be upset, so Ace writes it off as a Luffyism. Sabo hasn’t stirred at the noise, so it’s all good.

Realizing this, Luffy pads closer to Ace’s side and looks at Sabo’s unmoving body warily. “Why is Sabo passed out like a corpse? Is he sick?”

“No, he’s not sick, he just can’t take care of himself. Which is why we are going to let him sleep for as long as possible.”

Luffy just nods to this, but it’s the uncomprehending Luffy-nod that means he’s just going to end up doing whatever he wants to regardless. Ace sighs, then jerks his head towards the kitchen. “He ate a little earlier, but I want him to eat again when he wakes up. There’s stew in the fridge if you want it – just leave him a little. Got it, Monkey D. Luffy?”

Luffy throws him a salute and then runs off in his socks. “Yippee! Ace made stew!”

“Think of your brother, Luffy, and make good choices!” Ace calls after him. “He’s a pathetic man who needs food to feel better or he’ll end up sleeping through Laundry Day!”

—

Sabo does not sleep through laundry day, but he does sleep for sixteen whole hours, so it’s just around noon when he forces himself up off the couch and into a warm shower.

Ace is around, which is mildly unexpected. But he’s still half-asleep, so everything is at least a little unexpected. He glances up from playing video games with Luffy to see Sabo leaving the steam-filled bathroom with his hair hanging around his shoulders. “You look like a wet cat,” he calls.

“Sabo’s awake!” Luffy cheers. “Ace thought you died at one point.”

Ace elbows Luffy in the gut, making him hunch over. “I did not!”

“He totally checked to see if your heart was still beating!”

“I’m undead, actually,” Sabo says completely seriously.

“Does that mean you don’t need to eat anymore?” Luffy questions. “Because I ate all the stew last night.”

“I saw that coming and made extra.” Ace finger-guns in Sabo’s general direction. “That’s why I bought two sets of ingredients. With your money!”

“With my money,” Sabo echoes, because it’s such a wild statement to have to deal with this early in the day. Well, early for him. “Fuck you.”

“I mean, I can tell Luffy where I hid–”

“Thank you, Ace, for agreeing to share your quarters with both of your brothers so we can all do laundry today on your dime!” Sabo raises his pitch so his voice is mockingly squeaky when he says this. He starts moving down the hall before Ace can start to argue, letting his and Luffy’s voices bleed into the background.

When he comes back out, now dressed, it smells significantly better than before. “I reheated the stew,” Ace announces, gesturing for Sabo to take a seat at the kitchen counter. “Let’s all have lunch before we head out.”

“You have to drink this too,” Luffy tells Sabo, sliding a Gatorade across the counter so it sets in front of him when he finally does take a seat. “Ace’s orders.”

“Gotta get those nutrients back somehow.”

“Aren’t we so considerate, Sabo?”

“Do you even know what ‘considerate’ means?” Sabo asks, lips quirking up into a half-smile. At Luffy’s shrug, it turns into a real smile. “Well, thanks anyway. Both of you.”

“No sweat. And look!” Ace brandishes a five dollar bill for both to see. “I found this baby for us to use on coins! It’s all on me today–”

“Where’s my wallet, Ace?!”

[therealvalkyrie]

bath + asparagus time

[i9messi]

Don't break up with me — Oscar Piastri

Because of a misunderstanding, Oscar thinks you want to break up with him. Signals made him suspect he was right, but in fact, you just want to surprise him with a new puppy.

word count — 1,3k

note: i promise you this is pure fluff and romantic stuff. oscar here loves reader soo much, so I hope you enjoy it!

MASTERLIST

Oscar started to think about the last half of the year. Everything in your relationship had been so wonderful in those last few months, almost too perfect to be real.

You went to support him to his races every weekend, had romantic dates in your favourite places, went to museums and book stores and enjoyed ordinary things such as going together to the market. You had a beautiful relationship, where you supported each other and talked about your concerns as well as your future. Having known each other since you were teens, you and Oscar had talked many times about what you wanted to do in the future: to get marry and start a family.

Your families were very close, his mother loved you and you loved her, even spent time with her when he was not around. Your side of the family adopted him as their son, showing love to him.

There was no way you would break up with him. It made no sense.

However, the signs were there. That morning before heading to the circuit he had called you and you interrupted him, saying you were busy. That would have made sense and it was fine, except then he talked later to his mom and she told him you had been texting her all morning. Why didn’t you want to talk to him?

It was bad. That couldn’t be happening.

“Oscaaaaaaaaaaarr.” Someone shouted and that made him come back to reality.

Lando was in front of him, while he was sitting on the couch. Oscar used to be the most calm in your relationship. He took things easy, used to think before taking action, but now thinking so much was turning him into a person full of insecurity.

“What's wrong?” Lando asked, realizing that his teammate was acting differently than usual.

“Nothing.”

“Is this about your girlfriend?”

Oscar didn't try to hide the truth, not with him. “I think she’s going to break up with me.”

Lando was silent for a moment, until he burst out laughing.

“Don’t laugh, I feel bad. I’m devastated.”

“She’s not gonna break up with you, mate.”

You didn’t live together yet, you hadn’t taken that step in your relationship yet, but you practically lived next to each other. Your apartments in Monaco were only a few meters away. Yesterday he had invited you on a date and you told him that you couldn’t go. Lately it was as if you didn't want to spend your time together, as if his mere presence was annoying to you.

“How are you so sure?”

“Because you're the perfect couple. You love each other, you show the world how adorable you are, and then make everyone else feel miserable.”

“I don’t think that’s true anymore, Lando.”

“Go talk to her, then. Crying and feeling bad about it won’t solve a thing. Go and win back your lady.”

Oscar listened to his teammate, knew he couldn’t waste time or the opportunity to talk with you. He found you just a few minutes later and you hugged him, while he left a kiss on your forehead.

“Baby, I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Oscar. Congratulations for the race, I'm very proud of you.”

That had to mean something, didn’t it? If you hadn’t missed him and if you didn’t want him more in your life, you wouldn’t have answered that. Oscar was trying to convince himself that he still had a chance with you.

“Let’s go to my house.” he suggested, as you raised your head and looked at him with a face that showed no feelings.

“We better go to mine. We need to talk.”

Damn. You were going to break up with him. You never spoke like that, you had never said those words before.

On the way to your apartment in Monaco, he drove quietly. Oscar noticed you were nervous. You ran your hand through your hair and barely spoke. You were acting strange. He was increasingly convinced that once you arrived at your home, you would tell him that you wanted to break up with him.

The road was eternal and the worst of the worst. You arrived and stayed in the living room.

“Would you like some water?”

“Yes, please.”

You went to the kitchen to get a glass of water and came back a few seconds later. He drank the water in a single instant, too thirsty and nervous.

“Is something wrong, Oscar?”

“Do you want to break up with me?”

You stayed silent, until Oscar spoke again. His eyes were shining, his hair was messy from all the times he had passed his hands over it.

“Don’t break up with me, please. I don’t know what I would do without you in my life, you're my everything. I love you, that’s all I know. If I did something wrong just tell me, I'll try my best to not make the same mistake again."

“Oscar, baby…”

He hesitated, but he walked a step closer to you. Oscar was trying to not lose his mind.

“We can’t break up."

His supplicant gaze begged you not to leave him, not when he needed you so much.

“I love you and my life would be shattered without you.”

And something happened. You smiled.

“Oscar, I’m not breaking up with you. I don’t know what made you think I would.”

Calm made Oscar relax, but he remained confused. He was very sure of all the signs he had seen, he wasn't crazy and he was not imagining things. You had been acting strangely in those last days.

“Then why have you been acting so weird?”

“Wait for me, I’ll be right back!”

You left and came back a while later with something in your arms. A little puppy.

“It’s for you, honey.”

Oscar couldn’t help but come closer to you to see the puppy. The animal looked at him with a little mistrust, but once his hand came to caress the dog, the puppy began to move his tail with happiness, while you saw him with a smile on your face.

“A dog? For me?”

“It was a surprise. I talked with your mum about it and she even helped me. When you'll be busy with work stuff, I will be taking care of him.”

Your boyfriend grabbed the animal in his arms, the puppy ran his tongue over his face and Oscar squinted his eyes, while he couldn't stop feeling his heart beating frantically in his chest.

“l didn't expect this, thank you.”

“I would never break up with you, Oscar. You make me happy. That’s why I thought of adopting a puppy for you.”

“Then why were you acting so weird?”

“Because I wanted it to be a surprise. Yesterday I went to get him and that’s why I canceled our plans. Today the puppy peed in the clothes I was going to wear, just when you called. Also, he started barking and didn’t want you to find out. It was my little secret.”

Oscar had never been so happy, he left a kiss on your lips. Your mouths joined and he smiled so happily.

“I love you, you made me the happiest man in the world.”

“We have our little family now, Oscar. We are parents of a dog.”

Even as you planned to start a family when you were old enough, sharing the life of a pet was everything to him. Sharing the care and affection of a puppy made his tender and loving part appear.

“I love you and I love this animal. I will take care of you and him for my whole life.”

You weren't breaking up with him, that was the best part of all.

[spencerreidenjoyer]

insatiable | spencer reid x reader

Spencer learns how amazing sex is with you, but gets caught up with work. You show your boyfriend how good it can feel even if you’re not together physically, and he shows you how much he misses you when he gets back.

part 1 - addicted to you | part 2

wc: 4.6k, rating: 18+/explicit

tags/warnings: established relationship, phone sex/video sex, mutual masturbation, public (bathroom) sex, brief mentions of typical BAU stuff (not in detail), meeting the family (literally reader meets the BAU), brief mentions of alcohol, making out, vaginal sex, getting caught (not in the act but afterward lmao)

a/n: this is what an insane person does when they're sick for two days and have nothing better to do over the summer. this is a second part to addicted to you (you don't have to read the first part but it does provide some context for some details within the fic), with inspiration taken from a lovely comment I got on ao3 that made me feel kinda crazy. i included some textfic elements in this fic as well which i hope reads well (bold text is spencer)! also I know early seasons spencer technically sets this around 2005-2007 but they have smartphones and video calling (aka present day) so please suspend your disbelief for the length of this fic lmao (p.s this fic is also on ao3!)

Your boyfriend gets whisked away for work sooner than you expect. Spencer’s supposed to have time off the rest of this week, but you suppose killers aren’t exactly respectful of an FBI agent’s time off of work. It’s downright cruel when he’s called in to work on a Friday evening, when you have dinner and wine set at the table, having gotten ready to spend a quiet, romantic evening in with Spencer. 

“I’m so sorry,” he says, rushing to change out of his sweatshirt and joggers into his typical work attire. You stand in the doorway of his room, mildly amused while Spencer panics to put an outfit together. “I know you had a whole evening in planned, but–”

“Don’t be, baby,” you assure him. “You have a killer to catch. Oh, that one– the blue cardigan looks good with those pants. It matches your socks.”

Spencer smiles as he looks up at you, reaching for the navy blue cardigan to his left. He tugs it on rather hurriedly, comes up to you and presses a kiss to your forehead. “You’re the best. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

You shake your head. “Just find the bastard quick and come home to me.”

“I know. I will,” Spencer says.

After the both of you found out just how much Spencer liked fucking you, you were really hoping that your weekend together could be spent in his bed, but duty calls. Technically, JJ had called him in, but you’re not concerned about specifics right now.  

You spend the evening alone in Spencer’s apartment, half of the wine finished and his TV playing reruns of some show you haven’t been paying attention to. Your eyelids feel heavy, and Spencer’s bed is so comfortable you can’t bring yourself to leave it. That is, until your phone buzzes on Spencer’s nightstand, and you’re suddenly very alert.

I miss you, darling. > hey, i’m surprised you have the down time to text. i miss you too I’m really sorry I had to leave so suddenly. We’re on the jet right now.  > i told you it’s okay! i’m surprised the jet has wifi lol Taxpayer money, I guess? We land in LA in a couple of hours and we’re heading straight to the PD to work on the case. > my poor boyfriend is working so hard instead of cuddling me in bed :( How you tempt me, lovely. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Are you going to sleep soon? It’s late. > yeah i’m staying at yours for the night and maybe until you get back? really miss you already Okay, that’s good. I know. I’ll call when I’m in the hotel and settled for the day? :-( > yes please. also stop sending emojis with noses they aren’t supposed to look like that!!! They aren’t anatomically correct without them. The way you send them > babe they’re emojis it’s ok if they’re not anatomically correct Hahaha I love you. > lol i love you too! Goodnight, love. > goodnight spence <3 <3

You can imagine, especially from the way Spencer recounts it, how his coworker Derek must be teasing him about smiling at his phone, about how pretty boy’s lucky lady must be one hell of a woman to get Spencer so smitten. 

You would say you’re rather independent, especially in relationships, but Spencer has you acting like a clingy girlfriend. You can’t help but feel an ache in your chest as you long for him while he’s away, feeling like a military wife whose husband is out instead of being normal. To be fair, being with Spencer has never been “normal” – he always has something interesting up his sleeve, or some quirk that makes you even more enamoured with him. 

Your Saturday is relatively uneventful, milling about Spencer’s apartment. You laze around in bed for way too long, enough where Spencer would’ve definitely hauled you out of bed himself an hour ago if he were here. You make yourself breakfast, unsurprised that Spencer only has cereal in his pantry and almond milk in his fridge. You sit down with one of his very sophisticated literature books but you don’t get very far with it, and opt to clean Spencer’s apartment instead. 

It’s when you’re sweeping the floor that you realise just how much you like Spencer, feeling so strongly attached to him already. You’ve said your ‘I love you’s, given him his firsts. You were staying in his apartment even while he was away– hell, you’re even cleaning his apartment for him. 

Just for a moment, you let yourself fantasise about this being your apartment – yours and Spencer’s; about waking up to him every morning, about making breakfast for the both of you that isn’t cereal and almond milk, about coming home to each other instead of an empty apartment. 

You sigh and get back to cleaning.

You’re settled into his bed, surrounded by the comforting scent of him when Spencer finally does call. You almost drop your phone in your excitement to pick up. 

“Hey! Hi, Spence,” you say, unable to help the smile that’s forming on your face. 

“Hello, love,” Spencer answers. He sounds a little tired. You can imagine the little furrow in his brow, obviously exhausted and dissatisfied from a full day’s work of catching some bastard in LA, and you wish you could be there to kiss his frown away. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too, Spencer. Long day?”

“Absolutely,” Spencer sighs tiredly. “This UnSub is so slippery. No convictions, no paper trail, nothing, and he’s killing every other–” Spencer starts to ramble but he catches himself. “Sorry. I won’t talk about work right now. It’s pretty grim.”

“It’s okay,” you hum. “Do you want to talk about work right now?”

Spencer makes a little noise. “No, no. I don’t want to bring that to you. Let’s talk about you. How are you, honey?”

Honey. The name makes your insides feel all gooey, soft and warm and lovely. “I’m- I’m okay. I stayed at your place, cleaned up around here. I’m thankful it’s not as much of a man cave as I thought.”

Spencer laughs through the phone, a breathy chuckle. “Thank you for cleaning up for me, love. It’s just a lot of nerdy stuff, huh?”

“Yeah. It’s endearing. I tried to read one of your books earlier and could barely get past the first ten pages.” You tell him, garnering another chuckle from Spencer. “I like your place a lot.”

“I miss you,” Spencer says again. “Waking up to you and having you around is so much nicer than this dingy hotel room I’m in.”

“Aw. Taxpayer money couldn’t upgrade you to a better room?” 

Spencer snorts. “No, but I lucked out on getting the room all to myself.”

There’s a pause as you figure out what to say, and Spencer is quick to follow up, “I didn’t mean–”

“Does this have something to do with you missing me, baby?” You can’t help but grin. Spencer makes a distressed little noise over the line.

“Well, I– Maybe, but we don’t have to–” Spencer stammers, unable to find the words. He’s absolutely adorable. 

“I want to, Spence,” you coo. “I miss you so much.”

You hear Spencer exhale shakily. “What– What do I do?”

“A genius like you hasn’t forgotten how to touch himself, has he?” you tease, Spencer whining on the other end at your words. “Does that eidetic memory of yours come with an overactive imagination too?”

“Surprisingly, no. Hyperphantasia is more of being able to visualise different types of situations in one’s mind, and that’s what usually is associated with an overactive imagination. Having an eidetic memory is more about high-precision recall after seeing something even just once. I think having an eidetic memory pretty much ensures you don’t have aphantasia, or the inability to see and create mental images, but yeah.”

Ah, even his nerdy ramblings turn you on. 

“So does that mean you can recall the way I looked in bed a few nights ago?” you prod, and you wish you could see how red Spencer must be by now.

“Well, yes. Of course I can. How could I ever forget how beautiful you looked then?” Spencer’s words are sweet, earnest, and you melt. 

“Then picture that,” you barely get the words out because you’re so smitten. “Imagine I’m right there with you, Spencer.”

You hear the rustling of the sheets, and Spencer’s little telltale whine as he wraps his hand around himself. “O-Oh–”

“I miss you, Spence,” you drawl. “Miss the way your cock fits inside me. You miss my tight cunt, baby?”

“Your mouth is filthy,” Spencer laughs breathily. “But yeah, I do. You always feel so good around me.”

“You’re touching yourself, yeah?” you ask. You get a little whine from him as an affirmative, but your imagination is running wild – you want to see him. “Can you show me?”

“Yeah, I just– Do you wanna switch it over to a video call? I can’t–”

You laugh at your boyfriend’s lack of technical prowess, tapping at your phone screen until the top half of his face comes up. “Hey, I’m just trying to find a good angle–”

“Don’t just flip the camera and show me your dick, please. That would be so unsexy.” You say.

Spencer furrows his brows. “I was not planning on doing that, for the record.” 

You watch the phone move until Spencer comes into frame, the phone likely propped up at the foot of the bed and exposing all of Spencer to you. You might be drooling right now.

“This is… a lot,” Spencer laughs nervously. “I feel so naked.”

“You’re mostly clothed,” you quip. 

“Ha ha,” Spencer laughs dryly. “I’ve just… I’ve never done this before.”

“Phone sex? Or calling your girlfriend so you can jerk off for her?” 

Spencer gives you a deadpan look. “Both, honey.”

You grin. “I’m glad to be your first. Now, show me how you make yourself feel good, baby.”

Spencer’s cheeks are a gorgeous rosy red when he takes his cock into his hand again, his tip leaking as he strokes himself slowly. With his eyes fluttering shut, Spencer’s lips part as he indulges himself in his pleasure. Like this, you indulge yourself in admiring all of Spencer – the flush on his cheeks that runs down to his neck, his breathy panting as he touches himself to the thought of you.

“Spence,” you sigh. “You’re so pretty.”

His eyes shutter open as he looks at you, somehow even redder than he already was. “You’re the pretty one, darling. Are you– Will you touch yourself for me?”

You hold back your moan as you nod. You were already in your underwear when you had slid into Spencer’s bed, but now all it takes is you sliding your fingers past the waistband to feel how wet you already are between your legs. “Oh, Spence.”

“Do you feel good, love?” he hums, voice only a little bit strained from his immense pleasure. 

The embarrassingly loud squelch that results when you sink your fingers into yourself is enough of an answer. Spencer grins, and you’re red in the face as you rock your hips down onto your own fingers. “Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything, honey,” Spencer laughs. “But I wish I could feel you right now.”

“I know, I miss the way you feel inside me,” you pant. “Please, Spencer–”

“Take off your underwear,” Spencer’s voice is breathy as he pleads with you. “I want to see you.”

You prop your phone up so your angle matches Spencer’s, both of you on full display for each other. You watch the way Spencer’s eyes widen when you slide your panties off, the way his eyes are trained on your figure through the screen. He says, “You’re so wet…”

“All for you, baby,” you sigh, leaning back as you slide two fingers back into yourself. You scissor them rather hastily, craving the hurried way Spencer fucks you. “It’s not the same without you here.”

“I know,” Spencer hums. “You look so good like that. I wish I could make you feel good right now.”

You moan, pushing your fingers into yourself deeper, barely hitting where Spencer reaches easily. The squelch from between your legs is obscene. “You do, baby. You’re making me feel so good, just thinking about you.” 

In practically a whisper, Spencer admits, “I want to fuck you so bad right now.”

You let out a weak cry, impossibly turned on by your boyfriend’s filthy admission because you didn’t even think he had it in him to say it so bluntly. You slide your fingers in and out hurriedly, your palm giving you the friction on your clit that you crave so desperately. “Spencer–”

Spencer lets out a strangled cry, muffled behind his hand, when he comes. It’s sudden, Spencer’s load painting the soft skin of his stomach, his cock twitching. You moan as you follow suit, wetness drenching your hand as you ride out your own orgasm, imagining his cock inside of you. 

“Oh, fuck.” Spencer gasps, head thrown back as you watch his chest rise and fall as he breathes heavily. His forehead and neck are covered in a light sheen of sweat, and his cock out against the rest of his rather soft, innocent looking outfit is making you giggle just a little.

“You look really hot right now,” you say instead, wishing you could be laying next to him while he recovers.

“I think I should be saying that about you,” Spencer laughs. “You’re gorgeous. You’re so stunning.”

“How long are you going to be away?” You pout. “I like it when I can actually kiss you after you compliment me.”

Spencer smiles sympathetically. “I’ll be back soon, my love.”

“I’ll take phone sex with my boyfriend as a consolation, then.” You wink, making Spencer laugh. 

“Remind me not to get too loud, though. I think Emily is in the room next to me and I really hope these walls are thick enough.” He says, sounding vaguely concerned.

You laugh, and stay on the line a little longer just to relish in a peaceful moment with Spencer.

The next day, when you’re out getting groceries to stock up Spencer’s fridge, you get a text from Spencer.

I don’t know how much Emily heard last night, but she’s been looking at me funny all morning. > lol oops? If we call again tonight, we might have to keep it down.  > if? not when? :) I love you so much. > i know and i love you too :) and you should probably apologise to emily about last night Well, if we’re calling again tonight then maybe I should just give her one big apology when all of this is over. > good idea. now go catch your killer so we can go back to having sex irl Okay!

Unfortunately, Spencer gets too busy to call you again that night, the team working overtime to catch their UnSub, whose kills were escalating exponentially. You don’t find yourself bothered by it, by Spencer disappearing for the night with nothing more than a message sent your way, instead relishing in the fact that it’ll feel even more rewarding when he comes home. 

You’ve never felt this way before, craving Spencer so desperately while he’s away at work. While you’ve only been together a couple of months, you respect that Spencer’s work takes up a lot of his time. It doesn’t mean you don’t miss him, though, as much as you enjoy your alone time.

All of the team’s hard work pays off, though, because they’re storming into the UnSub’s lair by Monday afternoon, and Spencer texts you when you’re just clocking out of the office.

Great news! We caught the guy. We’re packing up at the PD and coming home soon. > omg!!! that’s so great The team wants to go out for celebratory drinks.  > you should totally go ahead and celebrate with them spence! you guys worked your asses off on this case We did. But I’m telling you because I want you to join us. I want you to meet the team too.  > oh? i would love to but are you sure they want me there? Of course, sweet girl. Derek wants to know who has me smiling at my phone half the time, and Emily is asking who I’m calling in the middle of the night. > omg so she did hear you … I think so, love. > … i will apologise to her tonight then I’ll send you the address. Love you > love you too spence <3

There’s just enough time for you to get home and change into a nice outfit – a tight, red dress that hits your mid-thigh, your hair curled and your makeup touched-up before you head to the bar Spencer’s sent you the address to. While you know Spencer’s team is lovely, you do want to make a good first impression.

You see Spencer’s gangly form at the bar when you get there, the rest of his team facing away from you as they get their drinks. You see Spencer’s face brighten as he spots you, raising his hand and waving to you excitedly. The rest of his team notices, and turns to look at you too. You would be shy at all the attention, but Spencer’s unabashed adoration of you, especially in front of all his friends, is giving you more than enough confidence to walk up to the group.

“Hello,” you smile, and the warmth you feel from the team makes you feel welcome already. “It’s nice to meet you all.”

You shake hands with Hotch and Rossi as you introduce yourself. While you had heard of Hotch as a rather cold, serious Unit Chief, the way he warmly smiles at you makes you feel at ease. “So, you’re Spencer’s girlfriend. It’s great to finally meet you.”

“It’s great to meet you too, sir,” you answer rather instinctively, making both Rossi and Hotch laugh heartily. 

“Aaron might be Reid’s boss, but he certainly isn’t yours,” Rossi chuckles. 

Before you can feel embarrassed by it, you get pulled into a tight, warm hug by Penelope, and when she lets you go, JJ hands you a drink, and Derek and Emily are regarding you with knowing smirks. 

“Reid, you are one lucky man,” Derek says, after pulling you into a welcoming hug. “Don’t mess this up, lover boy.”

“I know,” Spencer says, his hand reaching for yours. You lace your fingers with Spencer’s, squeezing his hand comfortingly. “And I won’t mess this up.”

“Lover boy is right, considering what I overheard the other night,” Emily says, looking at you and Spencer pointedly. JJ also has a knowing smile on her face, and you feel your cheeks get hot.

“I’m really sorry about that, Emily,” you smile sheepishly. “I hope Spencer’s apologised for it too.”

“Again, I’m sorry you had to hear that,” Spencer says, purposefully avoiding eye contact with Emily. “I would say ‘We won’t do it again’, but…”

You shriek amidst the laughter of Spencer’s coworkers, Spencer laughing along as he holds onto your waist. You feel adored, so readily welcomed by Spencer’s friends, and you feel like you belong, by Spencer’s side.

After you chat with the rest of the team for a little more, they eventually disperse to do their own things, leaving you and Spencer alone. Spencer looks at you with such adoration in his eyes and you feel like you’re going to melt. “Hi,” he says warmly.

“Hi, Spence,” you say. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Spencer smiles. “But I’m here now.”

“You are,” you breathe, giddy with excitement, and lean in to kiss him. It’s a quick peck, but Spencer pulls you back in like you’re the air he needs to breathe. He kisses you deep, eager, pouring every drop of himself into you. His hands cup your face sweetly, kissing you until you feel breathless. 

“Oh my God, Spencer,” you giggle when he finally pulls back, eyes wild as he regards you. “You really missed me, huh?”

“You have no idea,” Spencer laughs. 

“Do we need to pretend to keep our hands off each other or do you just want to go and make out in the bathroom?” You say simply. You don’t expect Spencer to be down, considering how quickly he’d rattle off the statistics about the germs in a public bathroom, but Spencer smiles at you and pulls you toward the single stall.

You’re thankful it’s a relatively big, clean-looking single stall bathroom, Spencer locking the door behind you as you lean back against the sink. Spencer’s taller figure crowds you in with ease, and you feel swallowed up by him as he kisses you again. He’s desperate, eager as his tongue slips into your mouth, his little noises so deliciously sinful as you kiss him back.

“Spence–” you gasp, in between kissing Spencer back. “Oh, baby–”

“What we did over the phone wasn’t enough,” he murmurs, eyes unblinking as he gazes at you. “I need you right now.”

Sure enough, Spencer’s hard in his pants. He pushes his hips forward, pressing his erection against your thigh. You whimper, drawing your lower lip between your teeth. “Please, Spence. You can take me right here, right now.”

You feel just as desperate as Spencer seems, his hands eager as they roam up your body. He’s eager to touch and squeeze and grope whatever he can get his hands on, and you relish in the way his large, sturdy hands grab your thighs, your waist, your breasts.

“You look so good tonight, my love,” Spencer grunts as he presses his face to your neck, his lips kissing up the column of your neck hurriedly. “So gorgeous. Letting me show you off to all my friends too– Thank you, you’re so perfect–”

“Spencer,” you gasp, hand sliding down to rub at his hard-on. You’re so turned on by how aroused Spencer is already, from just kissing you, from just touching you. “Fuck me, please?”

Spencer exhales shakily, lifting you up slightly so you can sit back on the countertop, your legs spread to accommodate Spencer between them. You’re soaked through your underwear, and you watch Spencer marvel at the sight. His hands are shaking slightly as he undoes his belt, pushing his pants down just enough to get his cock out. He’s hard and heavy and leaking, and you find yourself drooling as he strokes himself momentarily.

Spencer’s biting his lower lip in utter concentration, pushing your dress up and out of the way. You expect his hands to slide your panties off, but instead his fingers push the fabric aside, revealing your slick, wet entrance that he presses the head of his cock to. “Oh–”

“Like this,” Spencer says, breathless, his sentence not even fully coherent but you understand, especially when Spencer pushes the tip of his cock into you. You muffle a sob into your hand, feeling so on edge as you accommodate Spencer’s length. 

The burn is perfect, the slow drag of his cock inside of you teetering between pain and pleasure. It’s a primal urge the both of you desperately need to fulfil, and the way he presses into you satiates you so perfectly. Your arms slung around Spencer’s neck, you cry out weakly as he rocks his hips into you, already brutal and hurried with the pace. 

You’ve never felt this undone, so desperate that you’d let yourself get fucked in a bathroom stall. You barely have any alcohol in your system, for you to feel reckless enough to do something like this. Hell, Spencer hadn’t even taken your panties off before he’d started fucking you. The fact that prim and proper Spencer of all people is making you like this makes your head spin. 

“Oh, fuck, baby,” you whimper into his shoulder. “So good, Spence, oh–”

“You feel so good,” Spencer groans, hips stuttering as he tells you just that. “You’re so perfect. I love you.”

“I love you so much,” you hiccup, feeling Spencer drill into you, the muffled slap of his thrusts hitting the back of your thighs. You’re so overwhelmed, pleasure zipping through you from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, as Spencer fucks you like you’re the only person in the world that matters right now. 

“I’m close,” Spencer gasps, pace growing uneven, hurried, as he chases his pleasure while trying so hard to make you feel good too. “Please, I–”

You cry out as your orgasm hits you, too sudden, too quick. You clench around Spencer as your body shakes, Spencer fucking you through it with desperation. You don’t expect to come so quickly, but you suppose missing Spencer has an effect on you. 

You squelch obscenely with your release as Spencer continues to fuck you, needy and hurried, moaning in your ear as he stumbles into his orgasm too, wracking through his body like he has no control over it. You feel his load spill inside of you, hot and messy, his hands trembling as his thrusts slow.

“Oh, fuck,” you say, laughing slightly. “Holy shit, Spencer. We just had sex in a public bathroom, this is crazy.”

“We just had sex in a public bathroom,” Spencer echoes, sounding mildly panicked. “Oh, my God.”

“It was very fucking hot.” You assure him, holding his face in your hands to look him in the eyes, stopping him from overthinking. “But we should probably go home, because I’m a fucking mess between my legs right now.”

“I might need to take a shower,” Spencer says, his voice wavering slightly. “The sink is technically the most germ-ridden surface in a public bathroom, the damp environment makes it a–”

“Spencer, I love you so much, but for your sake and mine, let’s not talk about germs right now.” You shudder at the thought. “I think I need to take a shower after that too.”

“Let me clean you up, and we can go home.” Spencer, despite his germ anxieties, is rather sweet in cleaning you up. Your panties are ruined with fluids, and you’re starting to feel Spencer���s load trickling out of you when you stand back up, but you relish in the fact that you’re going to be back at his apartment soon enough. 

(The fact that Spencer hadn’t corrected you when you called his place home, makes your heart sing.)

You clean up your makeup and make your hair look as presentable as it can be, especially after your boyfriend has literally fucked you in a public bathroom, and when you both look presentable enough, you try to slip out of the bathroom casually.

Unfortunately, Derek and Emily are right there, catching you in the act of leaving, obviously noting the way you and Spencer look absolutely dishevelled. 

Derek raises his eyebrows, grinning. “Damn, lover boy.”

“Shut up,” Spencer retaliates weakly, his voice slightly shaky. 

“We’re heading home first,” you say with all the confidence you can muster, trying very hard not to feel extremely embarrassed in front of Spencer’s very smug friends. You’re still holding Spencer’s hand, and you feel a little less afraid. “It was fun getting to meet you guys.”

Emily shakes her head playfully, smiling. “We’d love to hang out more with you another time. Maybe when Reid isn’t so desperate to get alone with you?”

Spencer makes a displeased noise, but you smile and nod at her. “Definitely.”

Derek and Emily let you slip out of the bar without saying much else, and you hope that the rest of Spencer’s team doesn’t hear about it. 

As you and Spencer step out of the bar and into the cool, evening air, you kiss his cheek once more. “I love you. Now, let’s get home so we can shower. And then we can have sex again in the comfort of your bed?”

Spencer grins, any earlier embarrassment seeming to melt away. “That sounds perfect. God, I love you.”

[throttleheart]

⸻ ⸻ ⸻ Lucky Charm 

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Slow Burn, Light Angst

Word Count: ~3.1k

Summary: You’ve just started your dream job as a performance analyst at McLaren, determined to stay professional. But when Lando starts treating you like his personal good luck charm, lines blur, and feelings get complicated.

⸻ ⸻ ⸻

Your first month at McLaren is a whirlwind of data reports, race simulations, and trying not to trip over your own feet in the garage. You’ve worked too hard to get here—countless nights spent studying telemetry, endless practice interviews, a degree that felt like it stretched a lifetime. And now? Now you’re standing in the middle of the paddock, heart pounding as the team rushes around you before qualifying.

You’re supposed to be focused, analyzing Lando’s sector times, but then—

“Hey.”

You look up just in time to see Lando grinning down at you, still in his race suit, hair damp from the heat. His blue eyes flick over your tablet screen before settling on your face. “Anything good in there?”

You clear your throat, suddenly hyper-aware of how close he is. “Uh—yeah. Your Turn 3 exit is a bit sketchy, but overall, you’re—”

“Fast?” He wiggles his eyebrows.

You roll your eyes, shoving the tablet against his chest. “Decent.”

He laughs, bright and carefree, before giving you a casual tap on the shoulder. “I’ll prove you wrong.”

And he does.

Lando qualifies P2.

After the session, he finds you again, a little breathless, still in his suit, curls sticking to his forehead. “Told you.”

“Alright, alright.” You shake your head, unable to stop the small smile tugging at your lips. “Maybe you’re not completely hopeless.”

The next time he talks to you before a session, he places P3.

The time after that? He wins a race.

It becomes a thing. A ritual.

Before every session, Lando seeks you out. A quick chat, a joke, sometimes just a simple fist bump. And every time, he performs well. The team jokes about it, calling you his good luck charm. At first, you play along, chalking it up to coincidence. But then—

“You know,” Lando says one evening after a particularly chaotic race, “I think it’s actually working.”

You glance at him, raising an eyebrow. “What is?”

“This.” He gestures between the two of you. “Talking to you before a race. Feels… right.”

Your heart stutters in your chest, but you force a chuckle. “So what, you’re just using me for luck?”

His smile falters for half a second—so quick you almost miss it. Then he shakes his head. “Nah,” he says, softer this time. “I think I just like talking to you.”

And suddenly, it doesn’t feel like a superstition anymore.

It feels like something else entirely.

Something real.

⸻

Lando’s words linger in your mind long after he’s left.

“I think I just like talking to you.”

It shouldn’t mean anything. He’s a driver, you’re an analyst, and the garage is always buzzing with adrenaline and post-race emotions. But something about the way he said it, the way his voice softened, makes your heart beat just a little too fast.

You try to shake it off. Professional. You need to be professional.

But Lando doesn’t make that easy.

⸻

The next race weekend in Monza is a blur of heat, strategy meetings, and endless streams of data. You tell yourself to keep your distance, but Lando doesn’t get the memo.

“Where’s my lucky charm?” he calls out before FP3, scanning the garage until his eyes land on you.

The team laughs. You roll your eyes. “You realize this isn’t real, right? Your performance is based on skill, not—”

“Blah, blah, blah.” He waves you off with a smirk before leaning in slightly, just enough to make your breath catch. “But just in case, got anything for me today?”

You huff but play along, pretending to inspect him. “Mmm… helmet’s a bit crooked.”

His hand flies up instantly, adjusting it. “Better?”

“Perfect.”

“Good.” He grins before jogging off to his car.

The worst part? He takes P2 in qualifying. Again.

⸻

By Sunday, the entire paddock seems to be in on the joke. Every time Lando does well, someone—whether it’s a McLaren engineer, a journalist, or even another driver—mentions you.

“Guess we know who to thank if Lando gets another podium!”

“You traveling to every race now, or just the ones where he wants to win?”

You laugh it off, pretend it doesn’t affect you, but Lando? He leans into it.

After a chaotic race, he finishes P3. Instead of celebrating with the team first, he finds you. Sweat-soaked, grinning, energy still buzzing from the adrenaline rush.

He stops right in front of you, eyes bright. “Told you it works.”

Before you can respond, he pulls you into a hug—quick, warm, and entirely unexpected. Your breath catches as his arms tighten for just a second before he pulls away, still grinning.

“Thanks, lucky charm.”

Your face is burning, but before you can say anything, he’s pulled away by his engineers.

You tell yourself it’s nothing. Just Lando being Lando.

But then, later that night, your phone buzzes.

Lando: Dinner? Just us? No luck involved.

Your stomach flips.

Maybe… maybe this is more than just a superstition after all.

⸻

Your fingers hover over the screen, heart hammering.

Dinner? Just us? No luck involved.

Lando’s text stares back at you, casual yet completely not casual at the same time. You should say no. You should remind him that you work together, that you’re supposed to keep things professional.

But your thumbs betray you.

You asking as a friend or as a driver trying to secure another podium?

The response is almost instant.

Lando: What if I’m asking as a guy who just really wants to take you out?

Oh.

You swallow, staring at the message for longer than necessary before typing back:

Fine. But if you lose the next race, I’m blaming your bad dinner choices.

Lando: Deal. Pick you up at 8?

Pick me up? We’re literally in the same hotel, Norris.

Lando: Details, details. See you soon, lucky charm.

⸻

You spend way too much time trying to figure out what to wear. It’s not a date. It shouldn’t be a date. But when you open the door at 8 p.m. sharp and see Lando standing there—hoodie, jeans, hands stuffed into his pockets, but with that ever-present grin—you start to think maybe it is one.

“Ready?” he asks.

“As I’ll ever be.”

He takes you to a small, tucked-away Italian restaurant, far from the usual tourist spots. It’s dimly lit, cozy, the kind of place where the staff greets him like they’ve known him forever.

“You’ve been here before,” you note as you slide into the booth.

He shrugs, smirking. “I like to keep my secrets. Besides, had to impress you somehow.”

You roll your eyes, but your stomach flutters anyway.

Dinner is… easy. Surprisingly so. Lando makes you laugh more times than you can count, telling ridiculous stories from his karting days, his voice animated, hands gesturing wildly. You talk about work, sure, but also about everything but work—movies, music, the worst travel mishaps you’ve ever had.

Somewhere between the second glass of wine and Lando dramatically recounting the time he almost missed a race because he lost his passport (“Listen, I had one job, and I still screwed it up”), you realize something.

This is dangerous.

Not because of the job, not because of the jokes about being his good luck charm. But because this feels natural. Too natural.

And natural things have a way of turning into something real.

⸻

As you leave the restaurant, the cool night air hits your skin, a welcome contrast to the warmth still lingering in your chest. You walk side by side, and for once, Lando isn’t filling the silence with jokes.

He nudges you lightly with his elbow. “So… does this mean I get extra luck next race?”

You shake your head, laughing. “I don’t think it works like that.”

“Hmm.” He pauses, then looks at you, more serious this time. “What if I just wanted an excuse to take you out?”

Your breath catches.

“You wouldn’t need an excuse,” you admit softly.

Lando’s eyes search yours for a moment before a slow smile tugs at his lips. “Good to know.”

And then, without thinking—without overanalyzing like you usually do—you reach for his hand.

Maybe this is more than superstition after all.

⸻

Lando doesn’t let go of your hand.

Not when you weave through the quiet streets back to the hotel. Not when you step into the elevator, the air between you thick with something unspoken. And definitely not when you reach your floor, lingering in the hallway like neither of you really wants the night to end.

His thumb brushes over your knuckles absentmindedly, and you wonder if he even realizes he’s doing it.

“So,” he says, voice softer now, “are you gonna admit it?”

You blink up at him. “Admit what?”

His grin is lazy, teasing—but there’s something else beneath it. Something real. “That maybe, just maybe, I was right about you being my good luck charm.”

You roll your eyes, but your heart isn’t in it. “I think you just like having an excuse to talk to me.”

Lando steps in just a fraction closer, the space between you vanishing. “Maybe,” he murmurs. “And maybe I don’t need an excuse anymore.”

Your breath catches.

This is it.

That tipping point between something playful and something real, between superstition and whatever this is.

And then—

The sound of distant voices echoes down the hall, a group of engineers heading toward their rooms. Lando takes a small step back, exhaling like he’s resetting himself.

“Guess I should let you sleep,” he says, but he still doesn’t let go of your hand.

You squeeze it lightly before finally pulling away. “Night, Norris.”

“Night, lucky charm.”

You don’t miss the way he watches you as you walk away.

⸻

The next morning, the paddock feels different.

Maybe it’s just you. Maybe it’s the way your skin still tingles where Lando’s fingers brushed against yours, or the way your mind replays the moment in the hallway over and over again.

Or maybe it’s the way Lando keeps looking at you.

It starts early. During the strategy briefing, he sits directly across from you, chin resting on his hand, watching you with an infuriating little smirk. When you finally glare at him, he just winks.

Then, during practice, he makes a beeline for you the second he hops out of the car, barely even acknowledging the engineers first.

“Alright, how’d I do?”

You glance at your tablet. “You lost three-tenths in Sector 2.”

Lando groans dramatically. “Maybe I should’ve held your hand before the session.”

Your breath stutters, but before you can respond, one of the mechanics chimes in. “Careful, mate. If you start relying on her too much, you’ll have to bring her on the podium with you.”

Lando’s grin is immediate. “Not a bad idea, actually.”

The team laughs, but you can’t shake the way he’s still looking at you. Like he’s already decided something.

Like this is more than just a joke to him.

⸻

Race day comes faster than you expect.

You tell yourself to focus, to push aside whatever’s happening with Lando and just do your job. But then—

“Lucky charm!”

You barely have time to turn before Lando jogs over, race suit half-zipped, curls slightly damp from the heat.

“You’re really sticking with that nickname, huh?” you tease.

“Obviously. It’s science at this point.” He leans in slightly, voice lowering just for you. “Besides, it’s the best excuse I have to talk to you before every race.”

Your chest tightens.

“Lando—”

“Just—wait here a sec.”

Before you can ask why, he jogs off. You watch, confused, until he returns seconds later—this time holding his spare driver’s cap.

“What are you—”

He lifts it, placing it carefully on your head. His fingers linger at the brim as he tilts it slightly, like he’s adjusting it just right.

“There,” he says, stepping back to admire his work. “Now it’s official.”

You blink up at him. “Now what’s official?”

His smile is softer now. “You’re part of the pre-race ritual.”

Your heart is definitely beating too fast now.

“You better win, Norris,” you manage to say.

Lando just grins. “For you? Always.”

And then he’s gone, jogging toward his car, leaving you standing there in his cap, completely and utterly screwed.

Because if it wasn’t obvious before…

It sure as hell is now.

This isn’t just a ritual anymore.

This is real.

⸻

Lando wins the race.

Not just a podium—a win.

You barely register what’s happening when he crosses the finish line first, the team around you erupting into cheers, engineers shouting, mechanics throwing their arms in the air. The McLaren garage is a blur of orange, people hugging, champagne already being popped somewhere.

And yet, in the middle of the chaos, all you can think about is him.

The moment Lando climbs out of the car, he’s swarmed—by the crew, by cameras, by the world. But then his eyes find you, and it’s like everything else disappears.

You barely have a second to react before he’s running toward you, still breathless, still high on adrenaline.

“Lando—”

But you don’t get to finish, because suddenly, his hands are on your waist, lifting you off the ground, spinning you in a dizzying circle.

“You’re actually insane,” you laugh, gripping onto his race suit.

“Insanely fast,” he shoots back, grinning.

When he finally sets you down, his hands linger—one resting against your back, the other still holding onto your arm, like he’s making sure you’re real.

His voice lowers, just for you. “Told you it works.”

Your heart stutters. “Lando—”

“Let me have this moment first, yeah?” he murmurs, eyes flicking between yours. “Then we’ll talk.”

There’s something unspoken in his gaze, something that makes your stomach flip. But before you can respond, the team is pulling him away, dragging him toward the podium.

You stand there, dazed, as you watch him climb to the top step, the anthem playing, the trophy lifted high. The whole world is watching him—but he keeps looking at you.

And you realize, in that moment, that this was never just a superstition for him.

Not even close.

⸻

The celebration lasts all night.

The McLaren team floods the paddock club, drinks flowing, music blasting. Lando is in the center of it all—laughing, dancing, letting everyone pour champagne on him. But every so often, his gaze flickers to you across the room, like he’s making sure you’re still there.

You try to keep your distance. Not because you want to, but because you don’t trust yourself. Not after what happened in the garage. Not after the way he held you like that.

But Lando doesn’t let you avoid him for long.

“You’re hiding,” he accuses, sliding into the seat next to you.

“I’m sitting,” you correct. “There’s a difference.”

He tilts his head, studying you. “Why are you sitting alone?”

“Just needed a breather.”

His lips twitch. “From me?”

“From everything,” you say, but you both know that’s a lie.

Lando leans in slightly, his voice quieter now. “You remember what I said earlier? About talking after the race?”

You swallow. “Yeah.”

“Still want to avoid that?”

You hesitate. “I just… don’t know what you want me to say.”

Lando exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. For the first time all night, he looks nervous. “I don’t need you to say anything,” he admits. “I just need to know if I’m the only one feeling this.”

Your stomach twists.

“Lando…”

“You don’t have to give me an answer right now,” he continues quickly. “I just—I need you to know that this isn’t just some joke to me. Or a lucky charm thing. It’s you. It’s always been you.”

Your breath catches.

He watches you carefully, as if bracing himself for rejection. But there’s no hesitation when you finally reach for his hand, intertwining your fingers.

“You’re not the only one,” you say softly.

Lando’s grin is immediate, relief flooding his face. He squeezes your hand, pulling you just a little closer.

“Good,” he murmurs, eyes shining. “Because I was really hoping I wouldn’t have to fake another superstition just to keep talking to you.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “But you like me anyway.”

And for once, you don’t argue.

⸻

Lando doesn’t let go of your hand for the rest of the night.

Not when the team drags him back onto the dance floor. Not when champagne is spilled (multiple times). Not even when he’s pulled into photos, making sure you’re right there beside him, his arm slung around your waist like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

And the thing is? It is.

By the time you both escape the party—slipping out onto the quiet hotel balcony overlooking the city—it’s well past 2 a.m. The celebration is still raging downstairs, but up here, everything feels still. Peaceful.

Lando leans against the railing, exhaling deeply. “Think I still have champagne in my hair.”

You grin, reaching up instinctively, fingers brushing through his damp curls. “Yeah, you do.”

He watches you carefully, eyes flickering between yours. “You gonna fix it for me, lucky charm?”

You roll your eyes, but your heart stutters all the same. “You have to stop calling me that.”

Lando hums. “Mmm… nope.”

Before you can protest, he turns slightly, facing you fully. The teasing fades just a little, replaced by something quieter. More serious.

“I meant what I said earlier,” he murmurs.

You know exactly what he’s talking about.

“I know.”

Lando shifts, his hand finding yours again, playing with your fingers absentmindedly. “You still sure I’m not imagining this?”

Instead of answering, you take a small step closer. You don’t know if it’s the leftover adrenaline, the buzz of the night, or just the fact that you’ve wanted this for far longer than you ever let yourself admit.

But when you finally tilt your chin up and press your lips to his, none of that matters anymore.

Lando freezes for half a second—like he can’t believe it’s actually happening—before he melts into you completely, his free hand sliding to your waist, pulling you closer. The kiss is slow, unhurried, like neither of you are in any rush to let go.

When you finally break apart, his forehead rests against yours, breath uneven.

“Yeah,” Lando whispers, a grin tugging at his lips. “Definitely not imagining this.”

You laugh softly, fingers still curled into the fabric of his hoodie. “Good.”

He presses another quick kiss to your forehead before pulling back slightly, eyes twinkling. “So, does this mean I get extra good luck now?”

You groan, shoving him lightly. “You cannot make this a racing superstition.”

Lando just grins, catching your hand again. “Too late. You kissed me before the next race weekend. Pretty sure that means I’m winning again.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“And yet,” he says, voice dropping, “you kissed me anyway.”

You huff, but you don’t deny it.

Because, well… he’s not wrong.

⸻ ⸻ ⸻

[neeeooon]

Heyyy could I request Isagi, Reo and Yukimiya confessing their feelings to their crush, but the crush is so shy and insecure that at first, they don't believe the boys and instead, they think it's like, a prank or a bet because the guys are like, cool athletes ? thaanks !!

omg so cute!! yes tysm for the request! 💞

when they confess their crush on you

hs athlete!bllk x shy gn!reader

isagi yoichi

-> when isagi yoichi, aka the best player on the high school soccer team, ran up to you after the final bell rang for the day, sirens immediately went off in your head

-> he barely got the word “date?” out before you clutched your books closer to your chest and shook your head. “i’ve heard about the boys on your team who ask people out as bets and pranks just to humiliate them. i didn’t think you were like that, but i guess i was wrong.”

-> “… eh?” “that’s why you’re asking me out, right? to make your friends laugh?” “EH?!”

-> it takes a lot of convincing, and most of it is isagi stumbling over his words because he was not expecting you to say that. bachira spent twenty minutes hyping him up, repeating that “the worst thing y/n could say is no.” this was worse than that

-> the combination of his stammering, nape rubbing, and pink cheeks is enough to prove he’s genuine. “okay… we can hang out this weekend..?” “this weekend works!”

mikage reo

-> mikage reo. wealthy, intelligent, great at sports, and used to getting what he wants. so, when he sets his eyes on you, he thinks asking you out will be a breeze

-> “uh, no thank you…” you politely decline after reo asks you to eat lunch with him. it takes a moment for your rejection to sink in, but once it does, reo is all sorts of confused. “wait, no? why not?”

-> his voice doesn’t sound as accusatory as his words, so you shrug and duck your head to hide your flaming face. “you’re only asking me out because bored… so no thank you.”

-> he’s flabbergasted because what?? reo thinks you’re the most attractive person he’s ever seen, and anytime he gets the chance to talk to you, you’re always kind. plus he likes the sound of your voice; how could he not have feelings for you?!

-> before you can move around him, he’s stretching himself out like a sea star. “wait! i’m rich! i’m never bored! wait, that came out wrong..” rubbing his purple hair aggressively, reo pulls a small box of chocolates from his book bag and holds them out for you. “i like you. i have for a while, and me asking you out isn’t because i’m bored, it’s because i want to get to know you better!”

-> though you’re still a bit hesitant, chocolates are your weakness. you timidly take the box from his hands and offer a half-hearted smile. “okay… we can hang out after class tomorrow.” “it’s a date!”

yukimiya kenyu

-> he asked karasu and otoya to give him advice on how to ask you out, which was a huge mistake

-> those two followed you around school for a week before you finally broke down and begged them to leave you alone. when yukimiya went up to apologize and explain, you immediately shut him down

-> “i-i’m sorry! i don’t know what game you and your friends are playing, but i don’t want to be a part of it!”

-> he needs a moment to think after that. “game?” “you know, how you ask people out and ditch them? or worse, trick them into thinking you like them before insulting and laughing at them…” yukimiya is genuinely hurt that you’d think so little of him and his friends, despite not knowing a thing about them. was that their reputation?

-> “i’m not playing a game with you, y/n.” “… you’re not?” “no. the reason karasu and otoya were ‘following’ you was because i wanted to know what you liked so i could surprise you when i asked you out on a date..” “a date?”

-> part of you is still unsure, because why would yukimiya, the soccer model, as you out? but his eyes look genuine, and his smile makes you feel fuzzy, so you decide to risk it. if he breaks your heart, so be it. you only live once, anyway. “okay… um, here’s my number. text me?”

[lavenderspence]

Missing the happy hormone | S.R.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Content warning: emotional reader, period mention, fluff

Word Count: 1.8K

Summary: Apparently Spencer Reid could make anything better - even the emotional disaster of being on your period

A/N: First, huge thank you to the cutie that sent in this request, you literally caught me while on my period so this was born. Also, here’s to my inability to write short fics, this is your only warning that i can make and will make anything long, lol. Also, my titles suck omg. And shoutout to my crazy bestie for making me a Mamma Mia girly, she rocks.

But also, happy one month to this blog! When I carved out this little space for myself a month ago I wasn’t really sure how I’d feel being back here and writing again, but so far it’s been a treat. A huge thank you for all of your support and love and thank you to my mutuals and everyone that interacted with my blog. 💕 Here’s to many more months to come!

Request: spencer x fem!reader on her period/ovulating and shes in tears all the time?? Im ovulating and have been crying for hours and keep calling my mom lmaoo he’d been so lovely and sweet I know it I can feel it in my bones

masterlist

It was a slow day at the BAU. The most exciting thing in the 6 hours Spencer had spent at work was Rossi’s invitation to dinner the following weekend. 

Paperwork had piled high after their last 2 cases, so every team member was hunched over their desk, writing and revising reports. It was a never-ending cycle - finish a report, close the file, open a new one, and start all over again.

His eyes had started getting tired after four and a half hours, his hand had started cramping and he was down two pens so far, yet there was still a prominent pile on his desk.

He suspected Morgan and Emily might have pushed a file or two from theirs onto his load, seeing as he was getting done the fastest. Regardless, every few hours JJ was bringing even more to pile on top of everything that wasn’t finished, so buried in paperwork they stayed - no matter how fast he wrote or read, or how used to the load he was.

He was just thinking about getting up to prepare a fresh pot of coffee so he could function properly for a few more hours when his phone started ringing. He felt around the pockets of his suit jacket, where it sat draped on his chair, and then pulled it free. 

His display showed an incoming call, a picture of you as he hugged you, hands around your middle and face almost buried into your neck, a soft smile gracing both your faces. A scenery rich with reds, browns, and yellows stood behind you, the beauty of fall was nothing short of spectacular. 

The picture you’d taken last year when the team spent a weekend at Rossi’s cabin in the woods, surrounded by the beauty of landscapes and leaves, nature for miles. 

He accepted the call right away, a small smile on his face. 

“Hey sweetheart.” His voice was gentle, if a little raspy from misuse. He hadn’t talked much in the last few hours - just a distracted short answer here or a hum there. He was happy you were calling, though, welcoming the reprieve from the most recent report. 

It was silent for a few seconds, and he wondered absentmindedly if maybe you hadn’t called him on accident, and then there came a tiny little sniffle from your side. 

“Sweetheart?” He prompted, “Are you there? What’s going on?” Worry was starting to creep into the base of his spine, but he still remained calm and kept his voice gentle. 

“I’m here. Hi.” Another small sniffle, “All’s good. Just…I was just wondering how much longer you’d be gone.” Your voice was small,like you thought you might upset him by asking, and a little crackly, like you yourself were upset about something. 

His eyebrows furrowed, and he checked the time quickly - 3:57 pm. 

“Probably about two more hours, there’s a lot of paperwork we need to go through.” His eyes met Emily’s as she sent him a curious, questioning look. 

“Oh, okay.” The resignation was clear in your voice, “I’ll see you later then.” The call ended abruptly, and it took him a second to catch up.

He couldn’t help but feel like not everything was as good as you claimed it was. For one, you rarely called to ask when he’d be home - you knew his work could span into the late hours, or even stretch for days. You let him update you on any changes in his work schedule. 

In your interactions, your voice was usually upbeat and teasing - especially on the phone. Your kindness was always evident in your voice, as was your mood. You were a sunshine person, if he ever met one, that’s probably why you and Penelope formed such a close bond upon meeting. 

There was something that nagged him - a change in your mood he could pick up on just by your voice - too low, too small, and the cracks that he could now identify as he replayed your conversation in his head. You were keeping yourself from crying out, and yet there was nothing more apparent than the tears in your voice. And that made him worry. 

“Reid, are you okay?” Emily’s voice snapped him from the hard stare he’d been giving his phone in the last several minutes since the call ended. 

“I…I don’t know.” His eye twitched, and he cleared his throat before he tried and failed to articulate exactly what was happening - he himself had a hard time understanding. One thing he knew was that he needed to get home. “I..um, I need to go. Can you, please?” He asked, gusting at the remaining three files on his desk before he pulled his suit jacket on and grabbed his satchel. 

Morgan and Emily shared a mildly concerned look before they both nodded their heads, “Yeah, go. Text to let us know if everything is okay.” Morgan reminded him before he exited the bullpen with a fast step and tried to keep calm.

He was aware the situation wasn’t anything that he needed to be incredibly worried over - if something was really wrong, he knew you would have let him know. Yet, he couldn’t help the way his heart constricted by the sound of your voice, or the overwhelming desire to come home and gently hold you, see what could have caused this behavior. 

You were curled up on the couch, watching as Donna helped Sophie get ready for her wedding, the gentle melody of “Slipping through my fingers” filling the empty apartment. Your eyes were watering, to the point that everything was starting to get blurry. A shaky exhale left your lips.

Today has simply been a rollercoaster. Kissing Spencer goodbye this morning was the highlight of the day. What followed was nothing short of an emotional disaster. 

You’d teared up during breakfast, images of picking berries with Spencer flying through your mind. The desire to make it a reality was strong. 

Following that had come the overwhelming urge to bawl your eyes out, for no apparent reason whatsoever. Just cry and cry until you had it all emptied out and you could take a deep breath and continue with your day. So, cry you did, and then you’d finished with your chores for the day. 

Apparently letting it all out and emptying your tear supply hadn’t happened. Seeing as around 3:30 you’d started missing your boyfriend so much, the need to hear his voice had won out, so you’d called him. You felt the need to have him home to hold you because this month’s visit from mother flow was making you feel like a crybaby.

But then there was disappointment at the notion that you needed to wait close to 3 hours before that could happen. So you quickly ended the call before he could pick up on the tone of your voice, and then you shed a few tears. 

Now here you were, rewatching Mamma Mia because you really needed a pick me up, and once again, eyes shining as the tears started falling. At this point, it was a losing battle, so you let them fall, humming to the song with a broken voice. 

That’s exactly how Spencer found you, not a minute later. His keys were in his hand, the satchel on his shoulder, and he was just a little bit out of breath. 

The moment his eyes met you, they softened as he dropped everything and sat down next to you. His hand reached up and he cradled the side of your face, wiping your tears away. 

“Hey, sweetheart. What’s wrong?” He asked in a whisper.

“Look at Donna painting Sophie’s nails, it’s...” You hiccuped, another wave of tears washing over you. “And you’re home, why are you home?” Your question was met with a furrow in his brow, as his thumbs continued wiping underneath your eyes. 

“You called.” He answered simply. 

“But you said-” He stopped you before you could finish your sentence.

“I did, yes. But you sounded off and sad, so. Want to tell me what’s going on?” He prompted you gently as he pushed your hair back and pulled you into his lap after, feeling like you needed the physical contact. 

You weren’t ashamed to admit it, per se, but you were ashamed that your hormones had caused him to leave work and race home to be with you. 

“It’s my period,” you mumbled, hands wrapping around his neck as you hid your face in his chest, too tired to prevent your eyes from watering again. “It’s been going on all day. Randomly, I’d just get so emotional, and the tears would start. I was missing you so much too, and then hearing the song, bam, tears again. I’m so done with this Spence.” You sounded barely coherent, with your face pushed as close to him as possible. 

It all made sense now, you’d been cranky a few days ago, and then you’d told him last night your cramps were unbearable, so he knew you were on your period, but right now he felt like an idiot for not figuring it out himself. 

“It’s okay, everything is fine. The drop in estrogen and progesterone, following your ovulation triggered this. This in turn reduced the production of serotonin, your happy hormone. So, we just need to boost it a bit.” He whispered into your ear as you played with the hairs at the nape of his neck. 

“How?” You sighed into his chest, almost being able to pick up on the sound of his heartbeat.

He got deep in thought for a few seconds as you breathed in his scent, and a sense of calmness slowly overtook you now that he was home and holding you. One of his hands was running soothing circles on your back as the other held your hand, fingers interlocked. 

“How about we take a trip to the store and get you some snacks? We’ll pick up dinner on the way home and then I'll hold you some more and you'll pick a movie for us to watch.” He suggested, kissing the crown of your head once, twice, and many more times until you gave him an answer. 

“Yeah, yeah, I think that would help, but just having you here has done wonders.” You finally laid your head against his chest, looking up to meet his eyes. He smiled, and so did you. Having him here really had helped immensely, and when had it not? He was your other half, your rock, and even when your emotions ran rampant or you were feeling down, just his presence, his touch, and his understanding were enough to make it all okay. 

Later in the evening, Penelope sent you a photo of Sergio sleep-hugging a little plushy you’d gotten him, and the waterworks started all over again. Luckily, Spencer was there, wiping your tears and kissing your head, saying a thousand things without actually speaking a word.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Requests are open for both Spencer and Hotch if you want to send any!

[jamminvroomvroom]

everything.

ln x fem!reader

in which you’re his best friend until you’re something more

hi! here you go lmao. probs the fluffiest thing i’ve ever written and i am obsessed with the concept! thank you for being here and baring with me - i loved writing this one and i’d love to hear what you think! huge shoutout to my girlies @mcmuppet and @lavenderlando ily both!

songs that set the mood: pink and white by frank ocean, daylight by harry styles, angel by finneas, enchanted by taylor swift, hate to be lame by lizzy mcalpine

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, language, friends to lovers brain rot, slight corruption kink, readers first time, qatar angst

6.4k words

“do you wanna talk about it?” you whispered softly, your hand resting on lando’s sagged shoulder.

your eyes were fixed on the third place plaque on his table in front of you, his very much fixed on the floor.

“no.” his reply was short and sweet, his tone conveying exactly how deflated he was.

you’d only flown in to qatar this morning, the october sun hitting you hard as you walked into the paddock, drastically different to the london climate you’d grown accustomed to. lando had all but begged you to come, your evening before spent on the phone, and you knew that he needed a friend, otherwise he never would have asked you to fly halfway around the world.

friends. that’s what you were.

you’d hugged him tight and told him that the weekend had to get better, and then his teammate put it on pole and got his first win. so, yeah, maybe it wasn’t going to get better and not even the podium could cheer him up.

his radio messages had hurt your heart, your chest aching as he self deprecated in the cockpit. he owned his mistakes, sure, but he’d taken it a step too far and you knew you had a job to do. you’d do anything, quite literally anything, to cheer him up.

you’d always found a way to be there for eachother, your friendship spanning five long years after you’d knocked a coffee over a guy you quickly recognised as the new mclaren driver. both nineteen and awkward as hell, you’d um-ed and er-ed and danced around one another in the busy pret in central london, chucking tissues at him, attempting to mop up the frothy mess all over his white sweatshirt.

eventually you’d just burst into laughter, lando immediately following suit. your cheeks were hurting from smiling at the curly haired stranger, intrigued by the very way his faced moved when he laughed, and he’d looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky, not like someone that had just destroyed a brand new hoodie.

and just like that, a connection was born.

you’d gotten used to having a friend for only half the year, but he never let you feel the distance. paddock passes often fell through your letter box and you could usually be located in the background of his streams when he was home long enough to do them, the amount of times you’d been wrongfully accused of being his girlfriend a list as long as your arm. even in those moments of awkwardness, friendship prevailed and you both managed to crack up together about the conspiracy that you were more than friends.

and what an intriguing conspiracy it was.

“we should get you back to the hotel, you need to get some rest.” you told him, standing from the sofa and offering him your hand.

lando grabbed it, squeezing, his own special way of telling you he was grateful for your presence, and let you pull him up. as he tried to walk towards the door, you stopped him, hands on his shoulders. you wanted to shake him, tell him how fucking great he was. you didn’t think he’d appreciate that after an intense session in the car.

“hey, look at me. you got this, okay?” you smiled reassuringly, managing to get the smallest crack back from him, his lips upturning ever so slightly. something in his eyes told you that you’d succeeded, a small glimmer of an emotion that you didn’t know how to unpack.

friends.

that’s what you were.

-

you tried to ignore how touchy lando was being. you figured he just needed some comfort, physical touch not out of bounds in your friendship, but a new level had been reached.

on the entire walk through the paddock to his car, his hand sat comfortably on the small of your back, despite the endless amount of cameras pointed at you. his hand skimmed your thigh in the car, accidentally, you told yourself, and you had to avert your eyes when his hand graced your headrest as he reversed out of the parking space. knowing that he needed you in qatar so desperately that he’d flown you out was one thing, the way he was treating you once you got there was something else.

he’d opened your door when you pulled up at the hotel valet, helping you out of the car, his hand tucked in yours for a second longer than necessary. once again, his hand seemed to be glued to your lower back the whole way to the elevator.

the ding of the lift had you both shuffling out onto your floor, trailing towards your rooms in a heavy silence, something more left unsaid in the air.

you reached your door first, coming to a stop and shuffling around in your bag for your keycard.

“um, i need to be at the track early tomorrow. breakfast?” lando asked.

you turned to look at him, nodding your head profusely.

“of course, just drop me a message and i’ll come down and meet you.” you affirmed, your fingers finally grasping the piece of plastic that had, of course, fallen to the very bottom of your tardis of a tote bag.

you expected him to leave, but he lingered, as if there was something else on his mind.

“you okay?” you raised an eyebrow, unlocking your door. lando seemed to snap out of it then, awkwardly running a hand through his curls that had taken a brutal hit from the humidity. you liked the look on him, nonetheless.

“yeah, i- yeah, i think i just need some sleep.”

“okay, well, goodnight. let me know if you need anything.” you disappeared through the door then, the tension getting the better of you. you slumped against the shut door, wondering what he so clearly wanted to say.

-

the clock read 1:32am on your bedside.

a faint tapping had woken you up, and you groggily scanned the room, trying to find the source of the noise. you deduced that it was coming from your door, letting out a groan as you threw the cosy comforter off and trudged towards the disturbance.

you cracked it open, peeking through the gap and coming face to face with your best friend.

“lando?” you croaked, opening the door further.

“i’m sorry, can’t sleep. can i come in? it’s okay if not, i just didn’t know what to do.” he sounded so shy, something you didn’t recognise in the man stood before you, and you quickly swung the door open, ushering him inside.

“come, sit.” you waved for him to follow you across the room to the foot of your bed. he sat down beside you, the mattress dipping.

you patted your lap and he instantly knew what to do, laying down with his head in your lap. it’s something he did quite frequently when you were sprawled on his sofa at home, watching a shitty movie that neither of you were really paying attention to. you’d often be looking at him, praying he didn’t notice, and he’d be playing with your fingers, tracing the palm of your hand.

you couldn’t help yourself, running your hand through his curls. you didn’t mean to, stomach instantly twisting with embarrassment, but it was quickly twisting with something else. his eyes fluttered shut, a low groan falling from the back of his throat. it made your thighs clench, and he must have noticed, the tiniest smirk on his face.

“you okay?” lando asked, his eyes still shut, a look of relaxation finally on his face.

you coughed awkwardly.

“yeah, sorry. are you comfy?” you said teasingly, trying to cut the growing tension in the room.

“i am now, could fall asleep here.”

“you can, you know.” you whispered. his eyes flew open. your heart was hammering in your chest. this was new territory and you were worried you’d fucked up. sleepovers were also a norm, but one of you usually retired to a guest room, not the other side of eachothers beds.

“you want me to stay?” his voice rose in surprise.

“well, i mean, you can if you want, like, there’s space and-“ you rambled.

“do you want me to stay?” he repeated.

“is it gonna help?” you questioned cautiously.

“yes.” the confidence in which he replied did something to you.

“then stay.”

you crawled up the mattress, falling back into the place you’d so comfortably occupied just minutes before. you laid so still, watching with quiet curiosity as he slipped his hoodie off. his shirt came with it ever so slightly, riding up over his back, and you had to pry your eyes away, the ache between your thighs still ever present.

what on earth were you doing, allowing your best friend to crawl into bed with you? emotions were running so high, but it felt like a switch had been flipped ever since you hit the tarmac in qatar. every look, every touch was fuelled by something different to what it had been before and you weren’t sure if it was a good thing or not.

lando turned towards you, making his way back over to the bed. he looked apprehensive, as if he was thinking the same thoughts as you, wondering if there was any logic in what was about to happen. he seemed to come to the conclusion that this was, in fact, happening, crawling into bed beside you.

“is this okay?” lando breathed into the darkness of the room, his hand brushing yours. you were both as still as planks, mere centimetres separating you, the only light coming from the lamp beside the bed.

“yeah,” you took a deep breath, preparing for the words that were about to come tumbling out. “i’ve just never done this before.” you spoke quickly, sucking in another breath as you finished.

“you’ve never…”

“i’ve never shared a bed… like this.”

“like what?”

“with a… a guy?” your anxiety riddled words came out more like a question than an answer.

“oh. oh.” it seemed to dawn on lando then. “so, you’ve never… oh. i mean i can go if you’re uncomfortable.”

“lando, no, i just wanted you to know. i’m always comfortable with you.” you said, quietly baring your soul to him.

you weren’t sure why you’d basically told him you were a virgin. it held no relevance, he was just here to sleep, for some friendly comfort. he was not here for any other reason. and yet here you were, spilling the beans, all over the bed you found yourself sharing.

“i didn’t come here to, you know. i just needed you.”

you tried to ignore the pang in your chest and the annoying, minuscule butterfly springing to life in your belly.

“god, yeah i know! i didn’t think that you wanted to, well i mean not with me because why would you want me like that anyway, i get why you’re here, lando.” you rambled into the empty air. you heard yourself, groaning in embarrassment and dragging the cover over your face. lando laughed, pulling it back so he could see you again.

he was leaning over you, perched on his side, resting on his elbow.

“trust me, i’m more than happy with any part of yourself that you wanna give me.”

“don’t tease me, lando.” you scoffed. he was joking, right? right?

“i’m not! i promise, this is the one place i want to be.”

“why? why with me? i mean you could’ve called max. all he does is stream when you’re not home, think he misses you.” you were half joking, half deadly serious.

“come on, it’s you. it’s just… its been so hard this year, being away from you so much more. and then you came all the way here…” lando trailed off, averting eye contact.

you turned on your side to face him, placing your hand over his affectionately.

“you needed me.”

“exactly. i needed you. you.”

he gave you a look, one that you didn’t recognise, but you understood what it meant. it said more than anything had done since this confusingly beautiful interaction began. you got it, then, why you were here.

“lando-“

“i know that i shouldn’t tell you this and i can’t just spring this on you in the middle of the night, but i-“

“lando!”

“what?”

“kiss me.”

and god, he kissed you. the air was sucked out of your lungs, dragged out of you by the way he put his hands on your body, so urgent.

you sunk back into the mattress, his body over yours, a hand cupping your cheek while the other rested on your waist, stroking the skin there, exposed from your ridden up top. your hands were in his curls, and you revelled in the way that you could shamelessly touch them now.

he paused for a second, nose brushing yours, breathless and grinning down at you, a knowing smile that was so beautiful that it rendered you speechless.

“you have no idea how long i’ve waited for this.” lando breathed, scanning your face as if he was trying to take it all in. you, panting beneath him, coy smile, cheeks flushed. you’d never looked so gorgeous to him.

you leaned in to kiss him again, slower this time, relishing in the moment. you were lost in him, thinking back to the very first time you’d locked eyes and how you never thought it would come to this. this, the way he was holding you, was the best surprise.

lando pulled away, peppering your flushed cheeks with kisses, a dazed giggle passing your swollen lips.

he flopped onto his side, grinning at the ceiling mindlessly. you hadn’t seen him smile that big all weekend.

“are you tired?” you whispered, lips brushing his cheek, his light stubble rough against you. you wondered how it would feel elsewhere, scratching over your bare skin.

“no.”

“then why did you stop?” you asked, the words falling off your tongue slowly, sinking all over him like honey. you felt the way he tensed up, the suggestion that laced the seemingly innocent question making you tingle.

“i didn’t come here for that.” he reiterated.

“and i didn’t let you in for that. but here we are.” you weren’t ashamed of what you were asking, the moment was right, the one, and you knew it.

“it’s too soon.” lando was apprehensive. he was always overly protective of you, previously as his friend, but this, god, this was an entirely different ball park and he was proceeding with caution, against every natural instinct in his body screaming at him.

“says who?”

“it’s your first. it needs to be special.”

“everything about this is better than i could have ever imagined.”

“are you sure you want it to be me?” there it was again, those unrecognisable nerves that made everything inside of you flutter.

“lando, there is no one else i could ever want to do this with more than i want to do it with you. i want it to be you.”

“but… now? are you sure? i don’t want you to regret this.”

“the only thing i regret is that this didn’t happen sooner.”

“one last time. i just need to hear it one last time.”

“i want you, lando.”

and with that, the air changed, charged with a different kind of tension. lando pulled you on top of him, hands firm on your body, the action itself gentle. you steadied yourself, hands on his shoulders, his resting on your waist.

“can i take this off?” he tugged at the hem of your shirt. you nodded profusely. “words, sweetheart. i need you to use your words.” lando cupped your jaw as he said it, squeezing ever so slightly, enough to turn you into putty in his hands.

“please. yes.” you said shakily.

he smiled softly, slowly peeling the material off of your body, up over your head and tossed carelessly onto the floor. he kept his eyes on yours, despite the fact you were now left bare, aside from the white cotton panties that separated you both. he pawed at your sides, kneading gently at your soft hips.

“we’re gonna start slow, okay? gonna take my time with you.” he muttered, eyes on yours before they trailed slowly down, across your face, neck, collarbone, further and further until he was taking all of you in. he began to stroke the underside of your breast with his thumb, watching the way your body tensed under his feather-like touch.

“okay.” you choked out, head tipping back as he placed a kiss to the base of your throat.

his kiss trailed further down your body, peppered in the valley of your breasts, and then you stopped breathing, the air caught in your throat because he was looking at you, really, truly looking at you, as his tongue found your nipple. you couldn’t take your eyes off of him, not when he was looking at you like that, not when he was making you feel this good already.

lando pulled away, just for a second, just so that he could shift you from his lap onto his thigh. he was still fully clothed beneath you, totally in control, and you craved him in a way you didn’t know was humanly possible, so much so that you didn’t need the encouragement he was giving you to start rolling your hips, pussy grinding down on his covered thighs, the friction of your underwear driving you insane.

“oh, baby. you want me so badly, don’t you? should’ve asked me sooner. m’gonna make you feel so good.” his hands were on your hips, guiding you backwards and forwards on him.

“it feels so- oh, god.” you whimpered, fingers tangling in his curls, back arching further into him as your thighs clenched around his. he licked over your collarbone oh so slowly, a shiver running down your taut spine.

and then he was kissing you again, tongue slow over yours, his fingertips surely leaving marks where he was controlling your pace. the kiss was filthy, untameable, and you found yourself dragging against him slower, harder.

“i need you.” you panted, forehead falling on his shoulder as you pulled away from his lips, goosebumps pricking your sweat slicked skin. you were so close to an orgasm, desperate to feel him everywhere.

“i want you to come for me like this first, okay? can you do that for me, baby?” he cooed, bouncing his leg ever so slightly. “look at me.” and you did, somehow mustering the strength to pull yourself back up and find his darkened eyes.

you were a mess of curses when you let go, your body convulsing, collapsing into him as you came. you were throbbing on his thigh, one glance down at where you were grinding against him displaying your slick. his arms went around your body, flipping you onto your back so that you were resting against the mattress.

“you did so well, baby.” lando crooned, resting over you on his forearms. you stared up at him in awe, blinking away the haze. “do you want more?”

“i want everything.” you breathed, pulling him against you. you smoothed your hands over his shirt until you reached the hem, dragging it up over his back. he helped you take it off, and then it was lost to the room. you grabbed at his shoulder blades, smooth, muscular planes of bronzed skin so warm under your touch. you felt insatiable, like nothing was enough, totally intoxicated by him and everything he was managing to make you feel.

lando’s hand slid down your body, searching for the band of your underwear. when he reached his destination, he toyed with the lacy edges, letting them snap against the pudge of your belly, teasing you. you bucked your hips, frustrated, and he used the opportunity to cup your pussy, feeling where you’d soaked through the cotton. the groan he let out was carnal, animalistic, almost needy. he could feel all of you, how you ached and dripped, how you needed the everything that you’d requested.

“you’re so fucking good for me, god.” lando almost slurred his words, voice lower than you’d ever heard it. you keened at the sound, pushing your hips further into him.

lando didn’t give you much time to dwell on it, mouth latching onto your underwear where it met the crease of your thigh. he was so close, so tantalising close to where you were aching for him and you were just about levitating off the bed when his teeth grazed your inner thigh. you couldn’t see him looking at you, losing it, inhibitions out the window. your eyes were already squeezed shut when he began mouthing over your cloth-covered pussy, spit further ruining the sodden material.

“take them off.” you cried out, tugging hard at his curls that you hadn’t even realised you were clutching for dear life. and lando was a good listener, because he complied immediately, tearing the lace down your legs like a starved man.

his tongue was on you then, everywhere all at once, running through your folds and over your clit. you didn’t know if you were dead or alive, a different kind of pleasure than anything you’d ever experienced coursing hot through your veins. lando switched between long, slow licks, his tongue flat against you, and rapid kitten licks, burying his face in your cunt.

everything was moving in slow motion, your hands grasping frantically at anything you could reach; his curls, the sheets, his shoulders. you could barely make out what he was saying, his words muffled, lost to the soft flesh between your legs. it seemed to echo, every lick, stroke, word. you snapped out of it, finally, when he pulled away.

“more? you want my fingers, baby? gonna get you nice and ready for me.” you just nodded, voice lost to the air of the room.

one arm locked around your thigh, pinning you still, and the other snaked up your leg until he reached the mess between your thighs. he took a moment to take it in, how wet you were, how fucked out you looked, knowing full well he must have looked the same, unhinged as he gave into your shared desire that he’d tried his best to keep hidden. he’d never felt more stupid in his life for holding back, as he took in the ethereal delight sprawled under his touch.

when lando slid the first finger in, your stomach twisted deliciously. he watched you carefully, searching for discomfort but all he could find was sheer bliss, written all over your face as clear as daylight. he worked the digit in and out, nice and slow, curling against your walls. he could feel how tight you were, clamping around just one finger and he thought his head was gonna explode. he added another finger, watching the way you took him in, twisting his fingers.

“are you gonna let go for me again, sweetheart?” lando punctuated his words by putting his mouth back on you, teeth grazing your clit as he sucked.

you were thrashing, a silent scream building from the fire in your belly. you could just about make out the way he was spurring you on, his mouth running as you spilled over the edge, covering his fingers. you saw white, maybe god, ears ringing, and when you finally mustered the energy to look at him, you could have come for a third time. lando looked feral, lips red and coated in everything you had to offer him. his eyes were glazed over, a hazy grey that sent a jolt through your body, the aftershocks of the orgasm setting in.

“christ.” was all you could sigh out. a lazy smile painted your face, your eyes blown out, everything a little blurry. everything except him.

you could feel him scaling up your body, crawling over you until he was level with your face. he placed a kiss to your throat, your jaw and finally your lips; when he pulled away all that was left was shared giddy smile, both of you suddenly shy. you couldn’t stop the roaming of your hands, exploring all the parts of him that you could reach. when you found the waist band of his joggers, your hand grazing his abs as you did, he sucked all of the air out of the room, a sharp inhalation making him tense up.

“you still want all of me?” he breathed, his shaky breath fanning your face. lando was obsessed with hearing you say it, obsessed with how you wanted him as much as he needed you.

“all of you. lando, this is… you’re perfect.” you admitted, lips brushing his. your hands pushed the material down his hips, nails raking over him as you did. he couldn’t seem to wait any longer, kicking them off the rest of the way, his boxers quickly following suit.

you couldn’t help but stare, all of him bare against all of you. your nipples brushed his chest, his hands holding you close, your hands threaded through his curls. it was like you were sussing each other out, eyes watching lips and hands getting lost. you stayed like that for a moment, pressed together, closer and closer, until he was slotted between your legs like he was coming home. lando searched your face one last time, hunting for a smidge of discomfort.

“are you ready for me?” he whispered.

“yes.”

the initial stretch burned, but he slid into you smoothly, his cock slipping through your folds with ease. he felt you clamp down on him, his head thrown back as far as it could go, thick neck exposed to you. you bit down on his shoulder, where it met the base of his throat, trying to mask the gasp of pleasure that sent your eyes rolling back in your head. he grunted at the sensation, enjoying the sting.

“oh, fuck.” he was shuddering, trying to keep himself in check.

“don’t, oh god,” you started, meeting the roll of his hips. “don’t hold back.”

“we gotta go easy.”

“i don’t want easy.” you tightened around him then, and he saw stars.

“you’re so fucking good.” lando groaned, an edge of excitement in his voice, and then he unleashed everything that he’d held back. how much he wanted you, and a bittersweet weekend of frustration versus success came crashing down and he couldn’t do anything except give himself to you exactly how you wanted.

lando was a delicious weight on top of you, the drag of his hips slow, meeting yours hard. the pressure made you lightheaded, his body moving against yours like the thick drip of honey, smooth and sweet. you couldn’t make sense of it, of how fucking good he felt, grinding deeper and deeper into you like he’d found buried treasure. the overstimulation had your third orgasm building nice and quick, waves of pleasure making you dizzy.

“you like it like this? like when i fuck you nice and hard?” yes you did. “don’t think i can go without this now, you know that? such a good fucking girl.” you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, just let his words wash over you. “so beautiful, taking me so well.”

you couldn’t process that this was your best friend lando. this was a different person, it had to be. yet, somehow, it made sense that the man you knew, the one who spoke his mind, mischievous and troublesome, would be like this, a god above you as he fucked deeper into you with every thrust. he was filthy and gentle, brutal and sweet. it didn’t make sense, but it also just did.

“are you gonna come for me? one more time, baby. need to feel that perfect fucking pussy.” well, his wish was your command, because then you were gushing. the one thing you could feel was him, none of your other senses worked, you couldn’t see past the tears that fell, couldn’t get any words past your lips. maybe you screamed, you weren’t exactly sure.

lando was kissing you everywhere. each hip bone was met with his lips, your stomach, over your ribs, breasts, clavicle, neck. your face was covered in kisses next, your cheeks, forehead, a dainty peck to your nose.

“can you look at me?”

your eyes cracked open slowly, the exhaustion hitting as you came back to reality.

“was that okay?” there he was again, this shy version of lando that you couldn’t get used to.

“okay? lando that was…” you shook your head in awe. “that meant everything to me.”

he smiled then, that gorgeous, gorgeous smile, the one with the crinkles by his eyes and his teeth on full display. you melted.

“me too. you’re fucking beautiful. so, so fucking beautiful. should’ve told you sooner.” he murmured.

his words made you think, way too hard for your current state. what happened next? lando had said some things, some pretty big things that you didn’t know how to comprehend. it was crazy, how scared you were to bring it back up to him, considering he’d just been inside of you.

“sooner?” you whispered, hardly audible. lando was midway through tucking you both into bed, pulling your flushed, naked body into his own under the duvet.

“yes. a lot sooner.” he replied, not a trace of doubt in his voice.

‘how much sooner?’ you thought to yourself, unable to stay awake any longer to agonise over it, your dreams haunted by the way he touched you so well. it was magnificent to fall asleep in his arms, and you couldn’t help yourself from wondering when it would happen again.

-

you woke up tangled with him, fingers stroking your cheek, smoothing your hair out of your eyes.

lando was always so warm, but now his tanned skin radiated sunshine, a beacon of light in your bed. you smiled, eyes still shut, shielding yourself from the streaks of light casting over the room from the crack in the curtains.

“what time is it?” you croaked, bringing a hand to your eyes to rub away the sleep.

“gone eleven. i need to go, baby.”

baby.

you hadn’t gotten a chance to take my notice of the things he’d called you last night, too caught up in the way he played with your body. now that you heard it, in the calm after the storm, it made you swoon.

“already?” you tried to hide your disappointment, not quite ready to detangle yourself from him.

“need to get to the track. i think i’m already late. i just wanted to be here when you woke up.” lando sounded so soft, not as groggy as you, and you wondered how long he’d been awake, watching the soft rise and fall of your chest.

“thank you.” you knew that you’d have spiralled waking up alone, and you were immensely grateful that he’d stayed.

lando began to get up, wincing at your whine of protest.

“i’m sorry. i’ll have someone pick you up later, okay? i’ll see you soon, i promise.”

you knew he had to work hard today, knew how much analysis he needed to do before the race. he was starting further back than anyone would have liked, and he had something to prove as well, oscar starting too close to the front for lando’s liking. there were places to make up and hard work to be done to get back to the front.

“don’t apologise. i hope it goes smoothly today.” you smiled at him, watching him collect his long forgotten clothes. you were entranced by the way his body moved, the lines and shapes that tensed and rippled as he dressed himself.

“i’ll message you.” he promised, creeping back over to the bed. you weren’t sure what to expect, but the soft kiss to your lips, almost apprehensive on his part, could have killed you off, your heart pounding.

your grinned like a fool when the door shut behind him.

-

the shower was burning hot, loosening up your muscles. you cleaned yourself slowly, examining your body, the same one that you’d given to lando. he’d taken you apart, piece by piece, and put you back together, the traces of him that he’d left behind delectably apparent.

you followed the trail of marks he’d left, starting with the love bite below your right breast that you couldn’t even remember him leaving, making your way to the litter of fingerprints that were tattooed into your hips. your fingertips ghosted over your swollen lips, the kiss that he’d left at the junction between your neck and your shoulder, reminiscing the evening. you seemed to ache everywhere, the dull pain setting into your bones so nicely.

you prayed it would happen again. you felt like it would, everything between you had changed now, changed from any possible return to the norm. you wanted it to change, you couldn’t fathom the idea of staying friends when the lines had blurred like this, when he’d kissed you so deeply, touched you so intimately.

the shower was much needed, refreshing your body that was now tainted by him in the best way. you tried to keep a clear head while you got yourself ready, taking your time to make yourself presentable to the paddock. the time of your departure was looming, the pink and white sunset outside your window indicating that the race was only a few hours away. the air had cooled slightly, and you knew you needed to make your way to the lobby.

your phone dinged in your hand as you were packing your essentials into your bag. you glanced down at the device, unruly smile gracing your face.

see you soon, the text read, an orange love heart punctuating the short but sweet text. it was safe to say that the butterflies in your belly were well and truly alive.

-

the screen beeped as you scanned your paddock pass, and you slipped through the gate, making your way into the paddock. it was beautiful in qatar, they’d outdone themselves with this structure, the glass ceilings and jungle of greenery an expression of wealth and elegance.

you made a beeline for the mclaren garage, greeting lando’s pr officer who smiled warmly at you. you recognised oscar smirking as you appeared in the garage, and as you got closer you realised why.

“nice to see you. looking for lando?” his monotonous voice held an amused twang.

“hey oscar, great job last night!” you said, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “yeah, is he around here somewhere?”

“yeah he’s just doing press i think. extra spring in his step today.” oscar gave you a knowing look, one that made you blush.

“what do you know?” you deadpanned, fighting back laughter.

“i know that this was a long time coming.” he smiled, and then he was gone, lost to the bustle of the garage.

you stood there, probably in the way, lost in thought about what oscar had just said. he was right, this was a long time coming.

you jumped a bit when a hand landed on your waist, relaxing instantly into lando’s body when he pressed himself against you, head on your shoulder.

“i’m so glad you’re here.” he whispered, pressing a secret kiss under your ear, and then he, too, was gone, before you could even react.

your nerves were shot, ushered to the back of the garage where you found a headset. you chewed your nails, anxious about it all. the race, the changes that you were surely coming. you wanted it, wanted everything from him that he’d give you, willing to commit to all of it, to him. the distance, borrowed time, chaos of his world. last night had changed everything and you couldn’t have asked for more.

eventually the lights went out and the fight was underway. you found your hands clasped together, sweating in the dry heat and the anxiety. you clapped every time he made an overtake, storming through the field. when he made it into p3, picking the pace up on oscar, the nerves resurged and you prayed for a clean end to this race.

lando’s radio messages flooded your ears, and your leg bounced uncontrollably, your shoe slapping against the floor.

“be sensible, lando.” you muttered under your breath, resting your chin on your tightly clasped hands. he would be on the podium, but you knew it wasn’t enough for him, it never was. would you be enough for him?

eventually he agreed to hold position, thank fuck, and you could breathe again. he’d driven a beautiful recovery drive, bringing the car onto the podium, and you rushed out with the team to congratulate him. you lingered at the back of the pack behind the metal barriers, watching in quiet admiration as he jumped out of the car. he slapped oscar on the back, hugging his younger teammate before bounding towards the team. his head was darting around as if he was looking for something, but you couldn’t make it out with his helmet still on. and then the helmet came off and it became clear.

he was looking for you.

lando pulled away from a hug with a mechanic, leaning over the barrier right in front of you. you gravitated towards him, somehow moving through the swarm of team members until you were pressed against the metal too. he was beaming, eyes brighter than they had been all working weekend, and then his hands were on you. the hug he pulled you into was tight and you clung to one another for a moment, unbothered by his damp race suit, or the tickle of his sweat slicked curls.

the kiss he pressed to your cheek was far less secret than the one in the garage, so was the one he pressed to your forehead, but the one he pressed to your lips, as quick as it may have been, was the one that really took the cake. you were blushing when he pulled back, a mischievous grin on his face. you shook your head in disbelief at his boldness, unable to tame your bewildered smile.

“what are you doing for dinner, baby?” he called out to you as he walked away. the podium high had clearly set in.

nothing, you mouthed back, not quite confident enough to shout across parc ferme.

“good, we’re going on a date.” lando winked and then he was gone, pulled into the chaos of post race duties.

tears pricked your eyes when he stood on the podium, a much happier man than the one you found when you’d arrived. you couldn’t put it into words, how one night had changed everything, giving you everything you didn’t realise you wanted.

then again, lando was always good at beating expectations.

-

hehe the end

-

taglist

had to remove some tags that aren’t working! let me know if you wanna be added or removed xo

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[xiaominghao]

Write's block

Genre: very domestic fluff.

Pairing: Seungcheol x writer-reader.

Warnings: none.

Yuin's note: Am I using my writer's block for my benefits? Hell yeah. Am I ashamed of it? Hell no.

You sighed, both of your elbows were resting on the table as you grabbed your head with both hands, murmuring something out of frustration. You turned off the computer to jump from the desk, leaving the bedroom toward the living room, and you let yourself fall heavily onto the sofa.

Seungcheol heard everything from the kitchen and came to see what was going on, only to find you sprawled, changing channels on the TV with apparent disinterest, as you flipped through them quickly.

He approached and leaned over the sofa, resting his crossed arms on its back, just to stay there for a few seconds without saying a word, which, given the moment, was actually a bit annoying.

"How much longer are you planning to do that?" you said with no enthusiasm.

Seungcheol chuckled softly. "I can stay here all day if necessary… Or until you turn to look at me."

You turned your face toward him, and there he was, his calm smile somehow a bit irritating; you weren’t in the mood to smile—you just wanted to be alone. Still, he didn’t flinch.

"Do you want me to sit, and talk for a while?" his voice was so soothing that it was impossible to get mad at him. You felt how, with just those simple words, your body relaxed a little.

Silently, you sat up to make a space for him, and Seungcheol took a seat next to you, turning off the TV so there wouldn’t be any noise to distract any of you.

"I have writer’s block and can’t write anything," you said before letting a deep sigh, a hint of guilt in your voice causing Seungcheol to get a bit more serious.

"Oh, I see," he rested his hand on your knee, stroking it gently, "you hadn’t told me. How long has it been like this?"

"A week, maybe?" You scratched your head in frustration, as if that would somehow help you think better. "I don’t know. I just know that if I don’t have something ready for this weekend, my boss is going to kick me out of the publishing house."

Seungcheol stayed thoughtful for a few seconds when an idea came to his mind, so he patted your knee to get your attention.

"Write something about me," he said with a big smile that lit up his face. You raised an eyebrow as if asking where on earth he had come up with that. "Well, about us. Maybe it won’t help with work, but it might help with the block."

“But… What should I write about?”

“Well…” his eyes wandered, trying to find a coherent answer, “probably a date? Like… Try no narrate it as if you were a narrator. A third person.” He chuckled as if he said the most embarrassing thing in the world, “I don’t know, does that make sense?”

You blinked repeatedly, analyzing what he had just said. At first glance, it didn’t seem like a bad idea, and after thinking it over for a moment, it even seemed like the solution to your problems.

"…I hadn’t thought of that before," you said, contemplating the idea. "Cheol, you’re a genius. I’ll start writing something right now."

"Wait, don’t you plan to rest?" Seungcheol grabbed your wrist to stop you from getting up. "You’ve been working all afternoon."

You could see on his face how he was trying to convince you in a rather shameless way, with his contemplative eyes and his grip—firm but not harsh. You frowned, feeling a bit indignant.

"Don’t look at me like that," you pointed at him with your finger, but Seungcheol just shrugged on his seat. "Cheol…"

"It’s not fair! It’s my day off, and I haven’t spent a minute with you," he complained, grabbing your wrist with both hands and laughing. "Stay with me and rest for a while."

"But I have work to do!"

"They won’t fire you for taking a half-hour break."

"You know it won’t be just half an hour. Cheol, let me go!"

[tojikai]

SUNDERED

Pairing: Gojo x reader

• Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Alt. Ending

Sundered+ (COMMISSION)

Genre: Angst

tags/cw: angst, mean!gojo(kinda), babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, arguments

word count: 3.2k

One woman’s life lesson is another woman’s better man.

❧ babydaddy!Gojo intentionally runs into you when you’re buying groceries just to show you his girlfriend. The woman was your classmate from high school. At the first meeting, she was shy and tried avoiding your gaze but Satoru just had to call you and ask something about your daughter. Completely unnecessary but he’s just that much of a jerk. Once was considered an accident. But when it happened two, then three times, you already know that you have to change your shopping schedule.

❧ babydaddy!Gojo picks up his daughter from your house an hour late, rubbing on your face that he overslept because he spent “some time” with his girlfriend last night. Distasteful and disrespectful, but you let it slide cause he seems happy. You don’t want to be a killjoy, right? You were never his girlfriend, to begin with. Just someone he got pregnant from a one-night stand. 

❧ babydaddy!Gojo posts pictures of his day out with his daughter online. His girlfriend carrying your kid as the three of them wear matching Mickey and Minnie Mouse headbands. You could only scroll past and continue your work to busy yourself. Maybe you should stop lurking around social media and just use your phone for important messages. Maybe you should also lose feelings for someone who never harbored genuine ones for you in the first place.

❧ babydaddy!Gojo always lets his girlfriend open the door for you when you’re picking up your daughter from his house on weekends. He leans back on the couch, watching you grab your daughter’s things, opening his arms to cuddle with his girlfriend before you even get to walk out the door. It made you feel pathetic and small but what can you do? There’s simply no place for you in that house.

❧ babydaddy!Gojo insists that you spend more time together for the sake of your daughter. You agreed to it and now, you had to sit in the back of the car with your daughter as he drives his girlfriend to work. It made you feel sick and nauseous that you were only able to spend half a day with them before you decided to go home and sleep the day away. Maybe when you wake up, you’ll find it in you to hate him.

“Mommy? Call her, love.” Gojo used a higher voice to encourage his daughter to call you. He knows that he was foul for what happened earlier. But what is he gonna do? He can’t reject his girlfriend’s request, plus it was only a ride. It’s not like she was with you for the whole day. Still, he doesn’t think it’s the reason why you left early. You might be feeling…tired. Even if it was Saturday yesterday and you have no work. You might still feel fatigued on Sunday, right?

“Mama!” The little girl mimicked pointing upstairs. Satoru sighed placing her little bag on a nearby chair as he made his way upstairs. He figured that if you’re still asleep, he could just wait for you to wake up and just look after his daughter here. You’re a single mother for 4 days a week, and on top of that, you also have work. You literally don’t have time to rest. He told himself that he needs to stop messing around just to get a reaction from you. 

Reaching your room, Satoru knocked on the door three times, calling out your name when you didn’t answer. “Wait a second.” You voiced out from the other side, “I’m just gonna call my mom, can you wait for her?” You suppressed a cough at the end of the sentence but it didn’t go unnoticed by Satoru. “Are you sick? I could take her back to my house, we’ll look after her until you feel better. ” The suggestion made your stomach churn. They get to play house with your kid and here you are, being miserable.

You shook your head, realizing how bitter you sounded. She wasn’t unkind in any way to your baby but something in you hurts when you think of them giving your daughter the family experience that you cannot provide. You and Satoru tried to work things out but you just can’t get on the same page. Instead of trying to be better for you and your daughter, he decided to fuck around and date someone else instead. 

You wouldn’t say that your name was clean. What with a couple of threats such as finding someone who could act right. You just didn’t think that he’d really leave. It hurt but now you’re getting yourself used to the feeling. Maybe he just couldn’t act right with you. Because why is he so good with his girlfriend now? She tamed him, as he once boasted to you during a fight.

“I’m stuck with a child that I have with you, but not with you.” He pointed out, leaving a searing pain in your chest. “There’s no way I’m letting that happen.” Tears were starting to form in your eyes as the words come out of his mouth. How could he say something so cruel to you, the mother of his child? All you did was tell him that his girlfriend was getting kind of too much after she told you what to do with your child. And now he’s making you the villain.

“I just told her that—” You tried to explain, voice starting to shake. “If that’s all you did, she wouldn’t come to me crying, Y/N.” You just can’t believe that you’re fighting over this. You already have so much to think about and now this, you also have to be cautious about his girl. “She told you herself, I just didn’t want her telling me how to raise my child!” 

“Of course, she wouldn’t tell me that you’re being harsh to her. Unlike you, she’s actually kind and considerate of other people’s feelings.” You looked down, letting out a strangled sob escape your throat before quickly wiping away the forming tears in your eyes as you turn away from him. Why was he never this defensive of you? He didn’t even try to fight for you when his girlfriend convinced him to take your daughter with them on a trip. Without your permission.

And now he’s talking as if you’ve been nothing but a disturbance in his relationship with her. Everything's just unfair. Yet, you just let it slide because you wanted nothing but peace for your baby. “I don’t want to have this conversation with you anymore, Satoru. You’ve said enough.” You sniffed, walking to your daughter’s room to check if the noises woke her up. Satoru was left standing there, processing all the things that he said.

He watched you disappear into the dark hallway of your apartment, shoulders shaking with your head hung low. Even if he can’t see your face, he can tell that you’re crying and it made him feel like shit. He went overboard, didn’t he? “Fuck.” He threw his keys on the couch, running his fingers through his hair. He wanted to apologize but at the same time, he wanted to prove his point. His girlfriend was only trying to help and you took it the wrong way.

At that time, Satoru thought that maybe she was right. You’re just getting kinda jealous that she could spend time with your daughter and Satoru more and now you’re being too sensitive, letting out your irritation on her. She said that it was a natural feeling for a mother to feel that way but Satoru can’t let you treat his girlfriend like shit just because of your pettiness and jealousy. You have to learn to adjust and accept that some things are gonna be the way they are because of your setup. 

As for you, you felt hurt. Neglected even when you know that you’re not supposed to receive as much attention, much less protection from him. His priority is your child, but not you. You have no choice but to talk and work everything out with them for the sake of your daughter. You know that you could start dating someone of your choice but you wished that it would be that easy. You just want to focus on your daughter and if you’re gonna find someone, you want them to love her as much as you do. 

You wonder what you lacked that couldn’t soften him the way he did to her. You started to think that you’re the problem and that is why you couldn’t fix him as easily as she did. 

You stood up, opening the door for him seeing your two-year-old reach out to you. “Mama’s sick, love, sorry.” You covered your mouth, blinking away the heaviness in your eyes. Satoru watched you pack your daughter’s things. “If you’re gonna be busy, just tell me. I’ll just contact Mom. She can be with you for a few days, just until my cold is gone.” You murmured, counting the diapers to put in her baby bag. 

You don’t want to be away from her, but letting her stay with you when you’re like this puts her at risk and that’s the last thing you want. You can’t stand seeing your daughter through pain and you’re pretty sure it’s the same for his dad. Begrudgingly, you placed the bag in front of Satoru before reaching over for her favorite toy. You smiled at how she squealed when she saw it.

“You know we’re never too busy to take care of her. Just rest, so you’ll get better soon.” You swallowed, nodding your head slowly as you thought of what else they should take. “Yeah, I’ll be picking her up.” You kept your distance from her, sitting down as you felt your head spinning a bit. “Do you...do you have medicine, though? I could get some if you want,” Satoru can tell that you’re really sick and despite his situation with you, he can’t just let you be when you’re like this. You’re still the mother of his child. 

“No, it’s fine. I have some here. Just take care of her.” Your voice was hoarse and your daughter was starting to reach out for you again as if sensing that something was wrong so you urged Satoru to get going. “Be good, okay?” You waved as she watched you with her curious eyes but waved back, nonetheless. You wouldn’t admit it but you feel envious that they could be happy together with her. You’re afraid that one day she’ll prefer being with them over you.

As for your feelings for Satoru, you hated thinking or talking about it. You’re obviously in love with him, but you wouldn’t acknowledge that yourself, either. You fought too much, you hurt each other too much. Other than that, there’s no point for your feelings now that he has someone he really loves and truly cares about. 

You never experienced the boyfriend-girlfriend stage with Satoru. It’s like one day, you just woke up and you’re already parents. You can’t blame him for not having real feelings for you. You do your best to be as civil to them as you can be but sometimes his girlfriend’s just out of bounds. And after a couple of painful fights with Satoru regarding her, it just became too much for you. 

You’re just tired of feeling like a wedge to someone’s healthy relationship. That’s how Satoru makes you feel and you just can’t take any ache from that. 

Another thing that you deny to yourself is the hope that you might fix this all. There are always what-ifs in your mind, and you would never tell Satoru about them. He’ll probably laugh at you and your threats that you’re gonna be with someone who truly makes you happy. You would never destroy his relationship just because yours didn’t work. If you have to cover your eyes, look away and pretend to be deaf every time they’re around you, you would. 

You often think about what it would be like if he settled down with his girl; if they decided to get married and have a family of their own. You don’t want your daughter to feel left out. You don’t want her to feel like she doesn’t have her own family in the middle of them. You also wondered if you’d have moved on by then. You hope so. You don’t want to be this pitiful and heartbroken forever.

------------------------------

After a couple of days, you’re finally feeling well. You got up early and sent Satoru a text that you’ll be picking up your baby in a few hours. You missed her and her giggles so much. The house was clean during the past days but you very much prefer it to be messy, as long a she’s there. You’ll never mind getting up in the middle of the night or waking up extra early for her. 

Arriving at Satoru’s residence, you rang the doorbell as you waited patiently for someone to open the gate for you. You were hoping that it would be your baby girl, extending her short, chubby arms to you but instead, it was Satoru’s girlfriend. “Come in, she’s still playing inside.” She smiled at you, opening the metal door wider. “Thanks, I messaged Satoru that I was coming to pick her up. Is she ready?” You asked her as you walked to their front door.

“She is, but she’s kinda fussy about it. Satoru bought her a huge playpen and she just wouldn’t get out of it. She’s enjoying a lot.” She tucked a hair behind her ear and you can’t help but feel conscious of how you look. Opening the door, you were welcomed by the sight of Satoru lying down with his daughter in the said enclosure. She was fiddling with a toy as they watched on the big screen. 

Her favorite toy was at the corner, and for some reason, it left a pang in your chest.

“Sweetie, someone’s here for you.” You hated the way she phrased it but you know that she doesn’t mean for it to be offensive or rude to you. The little girl looked up with her binky in her mouth, blinking before smiling at you. “Oh, you’re already here. She wouldn’t let me out of the playpen.” Satoru explained, probably thinking that you didn’t appreciate that it had to be his girlfriend opening the door for you. 

“It’s alright. I don’t mind.” This place always made you feel like you’re an outsider. Probably because you are and it didn’t help that they’re making you feel like it. “Mama!” She waved at you, pointing at the screen as she sat down. “That’s a nice show, love. Maybe we could just continue watching it at home?” You know that she doesn’t have a big playpen there. The screen isn’t that big, either. She suddenly lied back down, whimpering as she kicked her tiny feet. You felt like telling her that you’d work hard to buy her that too.

She doesn’t want to go home yet and that’s what you feared. 

“Baby, mom’s here. She missed you.” Satoru called out but to no avail. He came to lift her up, trying to see if she was just being too lazy to get up. Her eyes were glued to the television as she sucked on her pacifier. She was too into it, pointing the show to everyone before smiling at you. Oh, how you missed that smile. “Let’s go, now.” You cooed at her, softly clapping your hands.

When you tried to reach for her as Satoru leans her close to you, she started wiggling around. “Down, Mama! Wait.” Her cute language never ceases to make your heart swell with joy despite the fact that she’s trying to get away from you. She runs away, stopping to look around before going to Satoru’s girlfriend and hugging her leg. She was in awe when she picked up your daughter. 

So… she’s who your daughter’s referring to by…Mama. You could almost hear your heart shatter at the realization. Since when did she start calling her Mama?

“You don’t wanna go home yet? But Mom’s here.” She talked in her baby voice and you don’t know if you’re gonna be happy that she treats your daughter really well or jealous that she came running to her when she don’t want to do something. Satoru went up to them, leaving you standing a few meters away. You don’t like what you’re seeing aside from your daughter.

“It’s not good to ignore Mama.” Satoru tapped her nose with his finger which she cutely swatted away, eliciting a chuckle from him. “Y/N, I was thinking… maybe I could just, uh, take her home later in the day. This playpen just arrived yesterday and you know how kids are…” He laughed nervously, struggling to find a nice way to say that your daughter won’t be coming home yet.

“Yesterday, I was joking about giving her playmates and she was so excited, she was running around.” His girlfriend giggled as she shared. It was a simple story yet it was a thorn to your heart. Why does it seem like your every nightmare is coming to life? You just smiled at her, understanding that she was talking about giving your daughter siblings. Satoru was silent, but you didn’t dare look at his face. You know that it’s in their future plans and you don’t have to see him smiling about it too. 

“That’s adorable..” You don’t know what else to say, so you just nodded your head slowly, blinking quickly so as to bring yourself back to reality. His place was huge compared to your apartment. The playpen looks so much more comfortable than the crib she has at your place. She has new toys and a mom and dad by her side. So, now she doesn’t want to leave. Suddenly, you can feel the weakness in your knees from when you were sick starting to come back. You cleared your throat as you straightened yourself.

“J-just take her home later. I, uh, bought something for her.” You lied, knowing that you still have to go looking for something you can buy for your lovely child. You wanted to snatch her away from Satoru’s girlfriend, her other mom, but the giggle flowing out of her lips are too precious for you to ruin; the smile on her face as she tickled her tummy was too priceless. Look at them, you told yourself as you started to feel farther and farther away from their little world. They’re a picture of a happy family. 

“I’ll see you later, honey…” You whispered, giving her head a pat as she looked up at you with her big, cerulean eyes. You didn’t wait for any of them to walk you out, you just let your feet take you out of their home, not daring to look back for the fear of breaking down. Your fingers tremble along with your lips and the tiny droplets of rain felt like acid on your skin. Maybe what they say was true. We experience people differently.

One woman’s life lesson is another woman’s better man.

NEXT

[biteyoubiteme]

rosé

yeonjun x fem!reader warnings:🔞!!! tw:stepcest, don't like don't read!, vibrator use, no penetration, mentions of biting/teeth used, panty-fucking, prob forgot some sorry wc: 2.2k an: uuummm so look away I guess I still wont take requests for this kind fic and im not tagging my usual taglist so :p pls don't read if you don't like it

“You have to be joking,” your hand is still caught on the doorknob, frozen in place as you take in the sight of your childhood bedroom. Half the space was covered in boxes, labeled in the sideways handwriting of your step-mother. But everything else was frozen in time as the day you had left for college, frozen as the last holiday you had been back, ugly Christmas sweater thrown at the edge of your bed. Even the lone mattress on the ground from where a cousin had spent the weekend was waiting to be slept in. 

And that is where Yeonjun stood, his chuckle caught between shock and humor. He was holding a half-drunk bottle of rosé, the cap still screwed on the cheap glass. “You're not very good at hiding things,” he shakes the liquid enough to draw your eyes to it. 

“Going through people's things is childish,” you mutter, tossing your bag next to the bed, “shouldn't you be in your own room?” 

It wasn't new to see him around the times that you visited, he lived only a town over, closer than you had stayed when the two of you had dispersed from home. He wanted to stay close to his mom, loved to rub it in your face when you came back that he was the better child. Your parents hadn't gotten married until the last year of high school, too soon for you to really find a connection with your new step-mom in a way that yeonjun had found with your dad. 

“They turned my room into a gym,” he kicked at the boxes littering the space, “they haven't gotten around to clearing out yours but it's going to be the guest room from now on,” 

“No-” you groaned, falling back on your bed, “I don't want a roommate for the weekend, I wanted relaxation,” it's not that you care they are changing things around but it was less appealing to have to know every time you came home you would have to spend it in the same room as any cousin, family member, or, like now, stepbrother.  Some selfish part of you hadn't liked how changed everything had become since the added members in the house had become permanent, your room had stayed yours, and if you had anything left of before it was this. 

“You don't want me around? I'm good company,” you can hear the dip in his voice, the low murmur of it making you shiver. You sit up on your elbows, rolling your eyes at him. 

“Don't take that tone with me,” but it's weak, the both of you know it, testing the line drawn in the sand every time you two had the opportunity. Spending time in such close quarters didn’t help it in the slightest. The two of you had agreed, or you had told him, that you wouldn't push it further than the teasing, and yet… 

Yeonjun’s lip lifts in a smirk, just high enough to show his teeth, calling your bluff. You remember that hazy period in time when the two of you didn't have to keep apart, fumbling kisses shared at a party, hands finding places neither of you wanted to pull away from. It was only a few weeks later when you were told about the engagement, the shock was a bucket of ice water thrown over the two of you. Suddenly flirty glances in class turned to frozen glares and when you moved in that last year together it had felt suffocating. It had been a mix of teenage annoyance and rebellion to avoid him, and you did in the short few months you spent in his company. 

Then you had both gone to college, two separate universities on opposite sides of the city. It had been easy to ignore him but easier still to find it in you to heal the indifference into tolerance. But then you found yourself at a party, the lights low and his smile just like this one now. You couldn't blame drinking, couldn't blame anything except the fact that you wanted to kiss him again, needed to devour him in the way that he had consumed your mind anytime you thought of him. 

You had been the one to stop it before it had gone too far, in the backseat of his car, grinding on him, still chasing his lips even as you said ‘We have to stop’ his soft reply of, ‘We should’ without either of you pulling away. It had been on your mind every time you saw him again, especially now. 

“Fine, but I want a thank you, I found all your contraband that you wouldn't want them to find when cleaning your room out,” he lifted the bottle again, “how long did you have this stashed in the back of your closet?” 

You had forgotten all about the bottle, less so about most things sitting in your closet, drawers, or under the bed. You had moved out your important things, anything left was by mistake or unimportant. “Who cares we are adults, a little rosé is nothing to worry over them finding,” 

“And this?” you didn't know what to expect when he lifted his hand, another lone bottle of some other drink you forgot about was nothing to worry about and yet it wasn't that. There in his hand was a slim vibrator, pink and a foreign sight in his grasp. 

“Yeonjun-” you whisper shouted, the two of you were alone in the house, the bedroom all the way up in the attic space. But it felt like you couldn't scold him loudly, your face flushing, heat spreading all over you. And he chuckled, shoulder shaking as he flicked his finger over the button to turn it on, the soft buzz making you clench your thighs. “Put it away,” 

“Should I? I charged it and it would be a shame not to use it, if even a little bit,” he stalked closer, slow like a prowl, already having his sights set on eating you alive. “And you already look like you want it on you,” you watched the way his eyes flickered down to your thighs, rubbing together as you tried to deny that they were doing so. 

“We said we wouldn't,” you whisper, hands twisting in the sheets as he leans down nose so close to bumping yours, breathing in the same air. 

“We said we shouldn't, that never stopped us before,” the last syllable is pressed right to your upper lip, the ghosting of his mouth like sweet temptation against yours, “and all I could think about since the last time was that we shouldn't have stopped, because now you're all that's ever on my mind and you're never even around to rectify that,” he leans in closer, on hand bracing beside you on the bed while you try to keep even a hairs distance from falling into his trap because once you slipped up and found yourself caught you knew you wouldn't even try to escape. “Just one kiss, please,” 

“Just one-” You couldn't even get the words out before he was on you, pressing his mouth to yours, seeking to consume you. Your hands shot out, pulling on his shirt locking him in place as he fell on top of you hardly even trying to keep his distance but you wouldn't even give him that once his lips were on yours. The two of you worked so well together, every little touch was sending sparks up and down your body. You opened your legs instinctively for him, wanted him to fit against you, slot himself in your personal space even if it was only for the length of one kiss. But that wasn't what it was, this wasn't the simple peck but a feast of pent-up want and need reduced to a single moment as if you hadn't indulged before. 

He was hot and hard, grinding against you until you were gasping into his mouth, sloppy kisses now working down your throat as he nipped at your skin, teeth looking to find every sensitive spot you had. He wanted to devour you even if he shouldn't, and you were no better. It didn't matter if you said just one kiss, the two of you knew what it meant, you had said it before and you had him on the verge of finishing untouched in his jeans but he would finish this time, he wanted to reach that spot with you. 

And you wanted it too, not caring about your previous intentions as soon as he was pressed so close to you. He reached his hand down between you two, vibrator on as he pressed it right against your clothed clit, the vibration muffled with all the fabric and yet you gasped, hips bucking up to meet the sensation. “Oh,” his open-mouthed kisses warm against the skin on your throat, your hands sliding up to his hair, twisting your fingers in the strands. He pulls away for only a second, hands falling to the waistband of your pants, needing to get them off of you. “We can't-” 

“Please- I just wanna see how wet you are for me,” he begs, forehead pressed to yours feeling your nod more than seeing it. He pulls your pants clean off, leaving you in the nearly transparent white panties you have on. Yeonjun groans at the outline of you clear as day as the fabric clings to you. He doesn't hesitate to press the vibrator right back over your clit. You try to snap your thighs closed, the one less layer making it so much harder to not react. 

His free hand comes out to trace over your cunt, fingers circling up and down as you throw your head back, your nails digging into his shoulders. “Now look at that,” he runs one finger between the fabric of your panties and your aching center, the digit coming away slick as he lifts it to his mouth to taste, your brows scrunching together as you try to hold back your whine. It's a drawn-out moan that comes from him, “You taste as good as you look,” he presses the vibrator harder on your clit, “let me fuck you- please-” 

“We shouldn't-” you try but it's caught in your throat when he clicks up the vibration, free hand back to running up and down the outside of your panties. 

“Please,” he whispers like it's ripping him apart, not being able to sink into you when you look this good. He presses his pelvis closer to you, his bulge perfect for your grinding hips to try and find a steady pace on. “Please,” he lets his hips drag along with the word, your lip caught between your teeth as you try not to cry out but it's impossible to deny him, especially when he's promising to not put it in, and you know if you say no he will stop and if you say yes you wouldn't stop him even if he did try to do more. And all you wanted was more. 

You nod, needing more of him, needing to feel something more if anything at all. He pushes his hand into his pants, tugging out his cock, veiny and slick with bubbling precum, wrist working to give it a few loose drags. You're whimpering at the sight, wishing to say to hell with not having him just fuck you into the mattress. And you almost do say ‘fuck it’ the second he presses his tip right to your covered entrance, the slick of your panties only causing him to slip, the length of him rubbing over you. 

“I won't- I won't,” he's screwing his eyes closed, shaking his head as he convinces himself more than he's telling you. Just brushing against you, feeling the vibration hitting right under his tip as he grinds down on you makes it so much worse. Every sound he's making is desperate and whiny, echoing in the room as he presses his free hand into the mattress, keeping you pressed down and in the circle of his arm. He can't control the way his hips move, just chasing the high of wanting to be in you and the feel of you so close and yet so far. 

He tries to press his tip back in, properly fucking into your panties even if there is little give before he's back to slipping and grinding back down on your cunt, clicking up the vibrator until you can feel it sending sparks all over your body, the ache in your belly turning into a blinding light before you tremble, tugging him closer to you as much as you can get. “I'm- I'm cu-” It's only a moment before your orgasm crashes into you, your body trying to pull away from the vibration and yet being stuck in place with the weight of Yeonjun over you.

And he doesn't stop or pull away, whimpering as he jerks, cock twitching right before he's spilling ropes of white all over your stomach, t-shirt a mess of it. It's not until he pulls away the vibrator, clicking it off, that he's stopped the slow dribble of cum from shooting out. 

Both of you are breathing hard, Yeonjun's face now pressing into your neck to try and hide, hips still moving, languid as he softens. “Never again,” you try to say, but both of you know the truth, especially when you're running your fingers through the hair at his sweaty temple. 

“Of course, never again,” he mutters but he's leaning right back in to kiss you. 

taglist for those who asked lol @beomiracles @beombunni and im tagging the wonderful @thetxtdevil bc she is the one who came up with this idea and gifted it to me ily mae thank you so bad-

[planetaryupscaled]

Better Girlfriend

Male Reader x Kim Jiwoo (Chuu)

Tags: 4k, cheating, oral, threesome

The story is not ours, we alternate the original story to match our desired settings.

“For god’s sake Jiwoo, why don’t you just fuck him already!”

That was Jiwoo boyfriend and manager, Dohyun, we had been friends for several years now. We met while I was an intern at Blockberry Creative, but now I work for Modhaus while he works for ATRP. To cut to the chase, I’d always felt a little jealous of him. In many ways, but especially because he was dating Jiwoo. Heck, most of our friends are.

The majority of our friends were regular people, and we preferred to host house parties. It was simply too costly for us to go out every weekend. With the exception of Dohyun who had spent less time with us and more time with Jiwoo who preferred to go out. Until recently, Jiwoo was trying to be a ‘better girlfriend’ and was now hanging out more with us.

Jiwoo is a dorky, playful, and kind person who fits right in with the group. However, as time went on, Dohyun told me he began to suspect that what Jiwoo really enjoyed was having all of the other guys drool over her. While the other girls were also attractive, there was no denying that Jiwoo was one the hottest as she gradually began to dress sexier for each party, especially for tonight.

Tonight, me and my roommate Jiseok were hosting the party. It had been going on for about two hours. Aside from Dohyun, Jiseok, and myself, there were seven of our guy friends, three of their girlfriends, and, of course, Jiwoo.

Jiwoo wore a tight white crop top that revealed her toned midriff and the exact outline of her perky breast, paired with tight short shorts that showed her smooth thighs, making it clear that she was dressed to show off her body. Weeks ago, Dohyun liked the idea of showing off his hot girlfriend, but tonight, after a couple rounds of beer, he changed his mind, not too keen about the idea.

In the kitchen, our friend Minsoo, a constant flirt with Jiwoo while Dohyun was keeping a drunken eye on them from across the room. Minsoo said something that made Jiwoo crack up, and when she put her hand on Minsoo’s arm while laughing, and just like that, Dohyun snapped.

—

“For god’s sake Jiwoo, why don’t you just fuck him already!” Dohyun drunkenly yelled from across the room and the apartment fell in stunned silence.

“What?” Jiwoo questioned.

“Bro, what are you talking about?” Minsoo asked.

“Shut the fuck up!” Dohyun yelled as he stormed across the room. “Don’t act like you haven’t been flirting with my girlfriend whenever you think I’m not looking.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You know the deal, bros before hoes” Minsoo respond.

“Oh so now my girlfriend is a whore?”

“Dohyun you know that not what he…” Jiwoo started before being interrupted.

“And you…” Dohyun said as he turned and pointed at Jiwoo. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you’ve been dressing around my friends the last few weeks. I know what’s going on.”

“Alright come with me.” Jiwoo said, dragging Dohyun by the arm back into one bedroom. The door slammed shut, and we could all hear the two of them shouting back and forth. This lasted for a few minutes, But to all of us out in the living room and kitchen, it felt more like half an hour. When we heard the door open, it was Dohyun who came out, just as angry as when he entered the bedroom.

“Try to remember to wear some condoms when you all run a train on her later” Dohyun yelled out before leaving the apartment. We all stood in silence looking at one another for a minute, when finally, Jiseok broke the silence.

“Wait, he’s not driving, is he?” Jiseok asked. Once again, we all found ourselves looking at each other before Jiseok jogging out the door, trying to catch Dohyun before he got into his car. As he walked out the door, Jiwoo came walking back into the room.

“Jiwoo, you alright?” I asked.

“Yeah I’m fine” Jiwoo said and she actually did sound perfectly fine. “I just hope that Dohyun’s diva moment didn’t ruin the party for everyone.”

Jiseok came back to the apartment a few minutes later, saying that he was too late and Dohyun had already left. It took some time, but eventually the party did get going again. I kept an eye on Jiwoo all night, and she generally acted as if nothing had happened. She continued to joke with people and dance to the music, but I noticed she was always holding a cup.

At one point, I noticed her sitting alone on a step stool, legs splayed out in front of her. I walked over to her and squatted down.

“Hey Jiwoo, how you doing?”

“I’m good.”

“You sure you feeling, okay?”

“Yeah, I’m feeling really gooood.” She said lifting one of her legs and tapped her boot against my crotch. I wasn’t sure if she meant to do that or not, but I assumed she was just drunk and didn’t think about it. Standing up I went back to the rest of the people in the living room and Jiwoo soon rejoined us as well.

At around 2 a.m., when the party began to wind down. As people began to order cabs and head home, I went into my bedroom and changed into a t-shirt and sweatpants. At that point, I remembered Jiwoo said she left her phone in Dohyun’s car, so I decided to check to see if she needed a ride home. I left my room and called her name but received no response, so I went to check the apartment. The shared bathroom was empty, the door to Jiseok’s room was half open, and he was asleep alone on the bed; in the kitchen, our friend Mingyu was passed out sitting at the kitchen table; and finally, I checked the living room.

When I looked inside, I got the shock of my life. Minsoo was seated on the far side of the couch while Jiwoo was on all fours, giving him a blowjob.

“Oh god Jiwoo, I’ve been dreaming about this for so long” Minsoo said, with his pants around his ankles and a hand on Jiwoo head, moaned as his head leaned back, He was clearly enjoying the feeling of Jiwoo’s lips going up and down his cock.

“Holy shit” I said reflexively. Both of them immediately looked my way when they heard me. Jiwoo looking fairly surprised and embarrassed while Minsoo had the biggest shit eating grin on his face.

“Sorry, I was just checking to see if Jiwoo needed a ride home.”

“No, I’m fine. Though if you stick around, I might give you a ride” Jiwoo said flirtatiously.

99 times out of 100 there is no way I would mess around with my friend’s girlfriend, but I figured this might be my only shot with Jiwoo. Plus, she was already blowing off another of our friends, so what’s the difference, right?

“So what ever happened to ‘Bros before Hoes’, Minsoo?” I asked as I approached the couch.

“That rule only applies to girls that 8s or lower, and... fuck she really good at this.” Minsoo, who was clearly very drunk, lost his thought as Jiwoo returned to sucking his cock.

“…and also, celebrities are excluded from the rule if you’re a non-celebrity.” He added, but I’m pretty sure he just made that up. I also think most guys would probably agree to those terms.

Jiwoo went right back to sucking Minsoo’s - Meanwhile, I moved to the other side of the couch, positioning myself behind her. Reaching around her waist, I unsnapped her shorts and pulled them down to her knees, revealing a black lace thong firmly entrenched between her cheeks. Then peeling down her thong. It revealed two moist, perfectly smooth pussy lips between her legs. I still could not believe that this was happening. I slid my hand between her legs, rubbing her wet claim. Slipping a finger between her lips, her legs kicked up slightly, and she let out a muffled moan around our friend’s cock.

“Mmmfff…gluck…gluck…mmffaahh…”

Jiwoo’s pussy felt tight and hot around my fingertip. Pulling it out, I stuck my finger in my mouth to taste her juices. After cleaning my finger, I headed straight for the source. I bent down, stuck my head between her legs, and started lapping up her pussy.

“Nnhhh god, yes! Use that tongue…” Jiwoo called out as I ate her pussy. Jiwoo went to put Minsoo back into her mouth, but he stopped her.

“No, no. I’m close, and I’m saving it for that pussy.” he said.

Pulling my head out from the between Jiwoo thighs, “You’ll have to wait, I’m not stopping until I make her pop,” I told him.

“Sounds good to me” Jiwoo said. I then grabbed one of her legs and flipped her over onto her back. Pulling her shorts and thong all the way down, I split her legs wide open and dove down between them. “Oh wow!” Jiwoo giggled. “Oh Tae, you really know how to use your tongue.” Jiwoo cupped her own breast through her top while her other hand was on the back of my head to keep me in place between her legs. I enjoyed sucking the tangy nectar from her cunt, but I moved my mouth up and began sucking on her clit while finger fucked her. This drove Jiwoo insane, and she clamped her legs around my neck.

“Ahnn yes! yes! YESnghh!” Jiwoo was getting closer and closer to climaxing. Jiwoo gripped the couch tightly and pressed her hips hard against my face. “Uggghhhh yes, yes, fucknnh!” Jiwoo yelled as she squirted a generous amount of her love juice all over my face.

“All right my turn.” Minsoo announced before Jiwoo could catch her breath. He got up from the arm of the couch, desperate for a chance to fuck the girlfriend. Jiwoo offered little resistance as he flipped her around and got her on all fours so he could fuck her doggy style. Jiwoo and I were looking at each other face to face, with her on all fours and me sitting back up.

Once again, I felt as though I was not in control of my own movement as I took Jiwoo by the back of her head and drew her in for a passionate kiss. I had been wanting to do this for a long time. Jiwoo was just as into the kiss as I was, slipping her tongue into my mouth. She let out a squeal into my mouth as Minsoo buried his cock inside her cunt.

“Fuck, bro! Her pussy is amazing!” Minsoo said as he began fucking her. Breaking off the kiss Jiwoo looked me in the eye moaning softly as he fucked her from behind.

“Lose the pants” Jiwoo ordered. I quickly stood up, took off my shirt, and kicked off my sweatpants before sitting back down. “Oh Tae” Jiwoo said as her eyes beamed in surprise. She took hold of the base of my cock. “You’ve been holding out on me” she said as she slapped my cock against her cheek.

“What about me?” Minsoo asked as he slapped her ass, “How does this dick feel?”

“So good…” Jiwoo moaned.

“Damn right. Fuck. I’ve been dreaming about this moment since Dohyun introduced you.”

While that was going on, I positioned myself so that I had one foot on the ground, one knee on the couch, and my throbbing erection staring the Vocalist in the face. With Jiwoo being pounded from behind, she opened her mouth as she moaned, I shoved my dick in and began fucking her face, which she happily allowed.

If I had to think about it, I might have felt mixed feeling about what was happening. On the one hand, my first threesome is with my buddy, and my other friend’s girlfriend makes me look like a total asshole, but on the other hand, spit roasting the tight idol is probably one of the highlights of my life.

After a minute or two, Minsoo and I found a rhythm, basically sawing the beautiful idol while plugging two of her holes. When he pulls back from her cunt, my cock slides down her throat, and when I pull back, he pounds back into her. We carried on like this until Jiwoo fully pulled me out of her mouth so that she could lick her tongue around my length before sliding down to lick the base of my shaft. The whole thing felt fantastic, and it would have been perfect if Minsoo had just shut his mouth.

“Come on Jiwoo Tell me I’m better than Dohyun. Tell me I fuck you better than he does.” I don’t know if this was Minsoo just trying to talk dirty or if the booze in his system was unleashing some deep seeded resentment toward Dohyun, but either way he was obsessed with being told he was better. “Come on Jiwoo, I’ve heard him fuck in his dressing room. I know Dohyun is a quick draw. Tell me how much better I am than that jackass!” At this point Minsoo was hammering her pussy with everything he had.

Jiwoo also seemed to have become annoyed with Minsoo. “Fine! You’re better, happy?” Jiwoo dropped my balls from her mouth and turned her head around to say. “You fuck me better than Dohyun does.” she told him. Then in a real sultry voice she said “And Dohyun cums even faster when I let him fuck my tight little ass.”

“Wha… I...” Minsoo absolutely froze after Jiwoo said that. For a second, I thought he had a stroke, but apparently the thought of drilling her in the ass was way too much for him as he then pulled out and erupted all over Jiwoo’ ass and back. Minsoo collapsed and passed out in a drunken haze after covering her ass and lower back with his load. With his now gone, Jiwoo returned to me.

“I knew he would love that,” she said.

“Do you really do anal?”

“Maybe…” Jiwoo said with a seductive smile. “Now it’s time to take care of you.” She began to sit up, but I stopped her.

“Finish what you started. I want to cum in your pretty mouth.”

“Are you sure? Will you be able to fuck me afterward?”

“Trust me, after tonight, I don’t think I’ll be able to be around you without being hard.” Jiwoo grabbed my head and pulled me in for another passionate kiss.

“By the way, your dick is much thicker than either of your friends. I love how it stretches out my mouth” Jiwoo said as she went down to the floor between my legs before taking me back in her mouth. Now with her full attention focused on me, she was able to show off all of her blow jobs skills. I couldn’t help but moan as she deep throated me to the best of her ability keeping her gaze fixed on mine.

“You are really good at this” I told her as she ran her lips up the side of my saliva-coated shaft.

“We Idols like to compare notes and share tips while on set” Jiwoo explained before attacking my cock with her mouth once more. After another minutes of deep throating, she had me ready to burst.

“Gonna cum…” Despite the warning, Jiwoo did not slow down at all. I started firing my load into the back of her throat, and she swallowed as I filled her mouth. When I was finished, Jiwoo gave me a couple of hard sucks to ensure she had fully emptied my load. She then released my cock with a loud pop and opened her mouth, sticking out her tongue to demonstrate that she had swallowed my entire load.

Like I promised, my dick was still rock hard after cumming into her mouth. Jiwoo then stood up and stripped off her top, exposing her small, perky breast. She now gave me a 360-degree turn before striking a pose as she stood in front of me, showing off her body dressed only in black boots.

“Tell me, have you ever masturbated thinking about me?”

“Yes,” I confessed, “multiple times.”

“Well, I hope I live up to your fantasies.” Jiwoo spun around and took hold of my dick, ensuring it was pointing straight up as she sat down on my lap. She ran my crown along her wanting lips before finding the right angle and sinking down. Though I’m girthier than my friend, the freshly fucked Jiwoo had little difficulty taking me into her tight, wet pussy.

“Ughhh you feel even better than I imagined” Jiwoo moaned as she bottomed out on my dick.

“You’ve thought about this before?”

“Umhhmmm…” Jiwoo began working my cock with her pussy “You’re cute, you’re nice, and remember a couple of weeks ago when Dohyun was a total ass, he got so drunk that you had to carry him to bed and then drive me home?”

“Yeah?”

“That night, I was so horny that I spent over an hour with my toy thinking about you.” Jiwoo was starting to bounce on my cock reverse cowgirl style, and I could feel her hand rubbing against her clit as I thrust in and out of her. Hearing that Jiwoo had masturbated thinking about me was mind blowing. I grabbed her by the hips and began slamming her down on my cock. “Yes, yes, pound my pussy! Nghhh I’m gonna cum…!”

“Spin around; I want to see your face when you cum on my dick,” I told her and she reacted immediately. Jumping up off my dick, Jiwoo spun around and pounced onto the couch. She quickly slammed her hips back down on my lap and fucked me hard. I watched Jiwoo face contort in pleasure as she rode me until her pussy clamped down on my cock, her body seized, and she let out a silent scream while cumming.

“Ughhh...Tae that was good” Jiwoo said as she came down from her high.

“We’re not done yet.” I told her as grabbed her hips and continued to thrust in and out of her.

“Yes! nghhh, next time me and Dohyun get in a fight instead of calling my friends, I think I’ll just come here and take my frustrations out on your dick again.” Jiwoo said between breaths as I continued to pound her.

“If it means we can do this again, I’ll come to you and fuck you in front of Dohyun. I don’t care.” Jiwoo once again kissed me passionately after I told her this. The two of us made out while we grinding our crotches together. Cupping her perky tits as I teased her nipples.

Jiwoo pushed me hard up against the back of the couch. “Sit back and let me milk your thick dick for everything you got.” Jiwoo once again started working her hips up and down my meat as fast as she could, and I could feel her try to flex her pussy muscles around my dick as she rode me.

“Oh god Jiwoo, I’m going to cum soon” I warned her as she continued to bounce wildly on my cock.

“Me too.” Said a male voice that caught both of me and Jiwoo by surprise. We both froze and looked to the kitchen and saw Mingyu standing in the doorway stroking his dick. Jiwoo looked back at me and then gave me a smile before turning back towards Mingyu.

“Like what you see?” Jiwoo asked seductively.

“Uh huh. You’re so much hotter than I thought.” Mingyu drunkenly slurred as he continued to stroke himself.

“Then come here...” She told him. I let off a disappointed groan as Jiwoo dismounted off my cock. Mingyu staggered forward as Jiwoo grabbed my hand indicating she wanted me to stand up and follow her. The three of us all came together in the middle of the living room. Jiwoo then took hold of both dicks before sinking down to her knees. Looking up at me she gave the head of my dick a kiss, then she turned towards Mingyu and did the same.

As she began stroking me, she stuck out her tongue and began liking the dip of Mingyu’s cock. She kept her eyes looking up the whole time as she took him into her mouth and began sucking his cock. She continued like this, stroking me and sucking him, for about a minute and then she switched it. I looked down into her brown eye as she sucked my cock for about a minute or two before switch back. I don’t know for a fact that this wasn’t the first time that Jiwoo had blown two guys at the same time, but she seemed to have full control of the situation and seemed to know full well what she was doing switching back and forth between our cocks.

“Oh yeah, that’s it. That’s it” Mingyu said, leaning back as Jiwoo sucked his dick hard. It was obvious he was about to cum though, Mingyu, being as drunk as he was lost his balance and stumbled two steps backwards, pulling his dick out of her mouth. However, with his dick still in her hand and it aimed at her face, he blasted his load directly onto Jiwoo’ face.

“Jiwoo, turn to me, close your eyes, and smile” I demanded. Jiwoo quickly did as I said. Seeing here there with a big smile with streaks of cum across her face pushed me over the edge. She stroked my dick as I came hard. Jiwoo giggled as my cum splashed against her face.

—

Next thing I know, I'm waking up with a delightful sigh as the sun shines through the window. I don't remember how I got to my room last night, but I recall having a really vivid dream about having sex with my friend's girlfriend. As my hangover grogginess faded away I realized that it wasn’t a vivid dream I was still experiencing, but rather there were a real set of lips sucking on my morning wood. Moving the pillows behind me, I sat up, and I could see that someone was hiding under my comforter. Whipping the comforter off the bed revealed a nude Jiwoo. She was resting on her knees and elbows between my legs with my hard cock in her mouth and her ass sticking up in the air. I can only imagine the dumbstruck look on my face as I looked down at Jiwoo and she looked up at me. I could also see a small smile come across her lips and she gave me a wink as she continued to blow me.

The memory of what I thought had been a dream just a few minutes ago, flooded back into my mind. While I still had no recollection of how we made it to my bedroom, but I did remember walking in on her and my friend in the living room, spit roasting in a devil’s three-way, and having the former Disney actress rid me on the couch. With Jiwoo now using her tongue to play with my cock head in her mouth, I could not hold back much longer. I put my hand on the back of her head and pushed her head down my cock.

“Time for breakfast” I said before unleashing my load down her throat. Jiwoo actually choked up a bit halfway through me emptying my balls causing some cum to leak out of her mouth.

“Holy crap Jiwoo, I can’t believe that actually happened” I said after I finally came down from my high from cumming.

“I need a ride home and you were not waking up so” Jiwoo casually shrugged her shoulders while sitting up, giving me a great daylight view of her breasts. “Plus your boner was pressing into my ass most of the night, so I thought a morning blowy would do the trick.”

“Yeah but what about Dohyun? I mean I know what happened last night happened because you were drunk...”

“What?” Jiwoo interrupted me, “I wasn’t drunk last night.”

“But I saw you. You were drinking all night.” I was extremely confused.

“Hmm, but I was just drinking juice. I had a photoshoot later today and didn't want to get drunk and be all bloated and groggy.” She then wiped some cum from the corner of her mouth and sucked her finger clean.

“So, can you give me a ride home? If you get me home with enough time before I need to leave, I’ll let you shower with me...”

“All right, let’s go...”

[heich0e]

"we're having a costume party at school next week!"

sukuna's only acknowledgement of his nephew's words is that half hum/half grunt sound he makes so often—the one that always seems mostly involuntary and entirely disinterested. to the uninitiated, it might come across as dismissive, but thankfully, having spent his entire life around his uncle, yuuji's fluent enough in his unspoken language to interpret the meaning behind the man's sounds without needing him to elaborate.

"yup!" he continues. "will jichan help me pick my costume?" 

sukuna looks over at his nephew, finally tearing his eyes away from the screen of his phone. 

"me?" he asks with a quirk of his brow. 

yuuji is on the other side of the low table at the centre of the living room, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet in excitement with his two little hands pressed against the table top where his colouring pages and markers sit abandoned.

"yeah! i gotta pick a good one." yuuji nods enthusiastically. 

sukuna breathes a short breath out through his nose, but yuuji understands that, too—the sound of his beloved uncle conceding, if not outright agreement to his demands. 

"well i'm not paying for any costume, so your dad better be ready to cough up some cash," sukuna says, slumping back against the sofa behind him and stretching his sock-clad feet out under the kotatsu. "what are your ideas so far?" 

"dunno!" yuuji comes bounding around to his side of the table, clambering into his uncle's lap and settling in there. 

"why don't you just dress up like a tiger cub again?" sukuna asks, shifting to accommodate the squirming brat now trying to make himself comfortable atop him. 

yuuji purses his lips like he's thinking about it. "papa said so too."

yuuji's dressed up like a tiger cub almost every year since he was born (sukuna has many, many photos on his phone to prove it.) it's tried and true. both itadori brothers are decidedly weak to the little boy dressed with fluffy ears and a little tail. it must be genetic. 

"but kugisaki said she's dressing up like a cat, so nobody else is allowed to," yuuji adds after a moment of contemplation. 

sukuna's met yuuji's school friend kugisaki nobara once or twice when picking his nephew up from school, or dropping him off at play dates on the weekend. the kid's a tyrant. 

"off limits then," sukuna says—a bit resentfully, since he won't have another series of photos to add to his phone camera's gallery this year. "so what else?" 

"hmmmm," yuuji holds his little chin in his hand as though deep in thought. "what about a ghost?"

"boring," sukuna replies immediately. 

"a dog?"

"that's too close to a cat," the man shoots that down just as quickly as the first one. “your bossy little friend won’t like that.”

yuuji nods sagely in agreement and then tries again.  “how ‘bout a police officer?" 

"cops are losers, brat," sukuna says, suddenly stern. he points at him to add emphasis. "they're not your friends and we don't trust 'em."

yuuji's lips form a little 'o'.

"papa says—"

"your dad's a square, don't listen to him," sukuns lifts the hand that had been pointing at his nephew’s chest and flicks him lightly on the forehead. he yelps in complaint.

"if the police is bad then who do i call if i'm in trouble?" yuuji asks through a pout, rubbing the spot between his brows his uncle had just hit.

"me, obviously," the older man answers without missing a beat.

"oh," yuuji says, his expression evening out again as he acceptis this answer simply. “’kay!"

“so what else is there?” sukuna rubs his chin thoughtfully as he reflects on yuujii’s options. kids’ costumes are—decidedly—not really his area of expertise. in fact, the images that come to mind when he thinks of costumes should really not even be mentioned in the same sentence as children.

“i gotta be something cool,” yuuji insists, watching his uncle think. 

“yeah, yeah,” sukuna grunts. “what about somethin’ scary?” 

yuuji shrinks into himself a little. “i don’t like scary stuff.”

 “don’t be a wimp,” sukuna teases him, but he holds the kid a little tighter and doesn’t bring it up again. there’s a black marker on the living room floor by his thigh, with the word WASHABLE printed in thick block letters along the side. sukuna picks it up, tapping it against the ground as he contemplates his options while his nephew does the same. 

tap, tap, tap.

“what about a pumpkin?” 

“lame. what about a demon?”

“demons are scary, jicha—“

“yeah, yeah.” 

sukuna tosses his head back to rest against the sofa cushions, an arm slung across his eyes. 

when he opens them again, inspecting his own forearm, he suddenly has an idea.

(when jin comes home from work, he finds his little brother and his son shirtless in the living room—one inked in tattoos, and one sporting a crude approximation of the same tattoos scrawled in washable marker. jin freezes in confusion at the sight. 

“papa, i’m jichan!” yuuji beams proudly up at his father, arms outstretched in display. jin’s eyes turn next to his brother, who’s looking particularly smug.

“kid said he wanted a cool costume,” he shrugs. 

yuuji goes as a tiger cub again that year.)