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pucksandpower · 2 days
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Settle Down
Oscar Piastri x Red Bull driver!Reader
Summary: sometimes there’s so much energy drink flowing through your veins that you’re physically incapable of sitting still, but Oscar always has a way of helping you settle down
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You can’t sit still, as usual. Even though you’re supposed to be relaxing in the Red Bull motorhome between practice sessions, you’re bouncing around like a pinball, fueled by way too many energy drinks.
“Babe, can you please try to calm down for five minutes?” Oscar sighs, though there’s an amused smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Your boyfriend has endless patience when it comes to your hyperactive tendencies.
“I can’t help it!” You protest, nearly vibrating out of your skin with pent-up energy. “My body is literally powered by Red Bull!”
Oscar raises an eyebrow. “Is that so? Well in that case ...” He gets up from the couch and pulls you into his arms, holding you still against his chest. You let out a grumbling noise of frustration but don’t fight it as he rocks you gently back and forth.
“This is undignified. I’m a professional race car driver, you know,” you grumble, even as you start to feel your racing heart slow thanks to Oscar’s soothing presence.
“A professional menace, more like,” he teases. “But you’re my menace.”
You swat at his arm half-heartedly. “I’m surprised you can even stand being around me. I must drive you crazy.”
“On the contrary, I quite enjoy the challenge of trying to tame you.” Oscar grins wolfishly and pulls you even closer. His warm brown eyes are filled with open affection. “Though I have to admit, sometimes you exhaust even me.”
“Then maybe you shouldn’t try so hard,” you retort, though you make no move to pull away from his embrace. If you’re being honest, having Oscar’s strong arms wrapped around you is the only thing that ever really makes you feel calm and grounded.
He sees right through your bravado as always. “You know that’s not true. This is the only way I can get you to hold still for five seconds.”
Oscar brushes a stray lock of hair out of your face, letting his fingertips linger on your cheek. You shiver slightly at his gentle touch. Even after two years of dating, the chemistry between you is as electric as ever.
“Well?” He prompts after a few moments of contented silence. “Feeling a bit more settled now, my kangaroo?”
You make a face at the teasing nickname but have to admit he’s right. Already you can feel the frantic buzzing under your skin starting to dissipate thanks to Oscar’s calming presence and soothing caresses.
“Maybe a little,” you concede grudgingly. You lean further into his embrace, resting your head on his shoulder with a contented sigh. “You always did have a weird power over me.”
“Just be glad I only use my powers for good and not evil,” Oscar quips. He brushes a light kiss over your forehead and you melt even further into his arms.
You’re both quiet for a little while, just enjoying each other’s closeness and the rare moment of peace before the storm of tomorrow’s qualifying. At last Oscar breaks the comfortable silence.
“You know, I’ve been thinking ...”
You tense a little at his words, knowing from experience that those four little words are often the precursor to something you may not want to hear. “That’s never a good sign,” you mutter warily.
Oscar huffs out a quiet laugh. “Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad. At least I don’t think so ...” He takes a deep breath like he’s steeling himself. “I was just wondering … have you ever thought about us getting married someday?”
You stiffen in surprise, definitely not expecting that. “Married?” You pull back just enough to get a better look at his face, searching his expression for any signs he might be joking. But Oscar just gazes at you steadily, pure sincerity in his warm eyes.
“You’re really asking me that? Right now?” You blink rapidly, trying to get your whirling thoughts under control.
“Well, why not?” Oscar says simply. “We’ve been together for two years, we’re both doing well in our careers. And you know how I feel about you. What’s holding us back from making it permanent?”
“I … I don’t know,” you admit, momentarily at a complete loss for words — which is rare for you. “I guess I’ve just never really thought about it before. I mean, you know how single-minded I can get when it comes to racing.”
“And you think I’m not the same way?” Oscar arches an eyebrow. “Believe me, babe, I understand that drive and ambition better than anyone. But that doesn’t mean we can’t have both career success and a lasting relationship. I know I want you by my side for all of it.”
His words make your heart flutter rapidly against your ribs. You search Oscar’s face, looking for any hint of doubt or hesitation. But you see nothing but sincerity, determination, and that all-consuming love and devotion he’s only ever directed at you.
Slowly, a brilliant smile spreads across your face. “Oscar Piastri … are you proposing to me right here in the Red Bull motorhome?”
At your words, Oscar dips his head sheepishly, a faint blush coloring those charmingly sharp cheekbones of his. “I, ah … I didn’t actually mean for it to come out like that, to be honest. I really did just want to gauge how you felt about the idea first before making any actual proposals.”
“Well, that was a terrible job of it then,” you tease, feeling a smug satisfaction at having flustered the normally cool and composed Oscar Piastri for once. “I’m afraid you’ve well and truly proposed now, sir, there’s no taking it back.”
“Is that so?” Oscar’s eyes sparkle with sudden mirth, that wolfish grin creeping across his face again. “Well then, in that case ...”
He pulls you close once more until you’re pressed flush against him. “Y/N Y/L/N,” he begins in a low, throaty rumble that sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine. “Will you make me the happiest man in the paddock and agree to be my wife?”
There’s a heavy pause as you simply gaze into Oscar’s eyes, caught up in the sheer depth of emotion swirling in their depths. Those beautiful brown pools are filled with unbridled adoration, devotion, and a love so palpable and all-consuming it almost steals your breath away.
Slowly, you lean in until your foreheads are resting together, noses brushing in an intimate caress. When you finally find your voice again to answer, it emerges as a hushed, reverent whisper.
“Yes … god, yes, Oscar. Of course I’ll marry you.”
A brilliant smile breaks across Oscar’s face, brighter and more dazzling than the sun. He crushes you to him once more, arms wrapped so tightly around you that it feels like he’s trying to meld the two of you into one being through sheer force of will.
You don’t know how long you stay like that, just holding each other close and reveling in this new promise stretching out before you both. It could be seconds or it could be hours lost in the endless depth of emotion and sensation sparked by Oscar’s touch and fervent kisses.
At long last, you force yourself to pull away, just enough to meet his gaze with a impish grin. “You know, we’re going to have to tell our teams about this. Can you just imagine the reactions?”
Oscar chuckles, tucking an errant strand of hair behind your ear with utmost tenderness. “I can only imagine. Though they’ll likely be more shocked it took us this long, to be honest.”
You laugh freely at that, nodding in acknowledgment. “Fair point. We haven’t exactly been subtle about our feelings for each other over the years.”
“Not at all,” Oscar agrees with a wry smirk, raising your joined hands to brush a feather-light kiss across your knuckles. Despite his teasing words, his eyes are soft with pure adoration. “But you’re worth being unsubtle for. I would shout my feelings from the rooftops if you asked me to.”
You feel a blush heating your cheeks at his ardent sincerity. “Good thing I’m not asking then. I’d hate to have to share you with the entire world.”
“Never,” Oscar vows fervently, pulling you close once more. “You have my heart, kangaroo. You’ve had it from the moment we met. It will always be yours, for as long as you’ll have me.”
“Then I guess you’d better get used to me holding on to it forever,” you murmur, grinning up at him with sparkling eyes. “Because I’m never letting you go, Mr. Piastri.”
Oscar’s returning smile is brilliant and full of devotion. “That’s the plan, future Mrs. Piastri.”
He leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss that leaves you both breathless and clinging to each other. When you finally part, foreheads resting together, Oscar brushes the pad of his thumb over your swollen lips with a look of such tender wonder that your heart clenches.
“God, I love you,” he rasps out, voice low and throaty with emotion. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you by my side.”
You feel your own eyes stinging with happy tears at his words. “I love you too,” you whisper back fervently. “More than I could ever say.”
For a long moment you simply gaze at each other, caught up in the overwhelming love and emotion sparking between you. Then you let out a watery laugh, swiping at the treacherous tears escaping the corners of your eyes.
“We’re being totally ridiculous, you know that?” you say with a teasing grin. “Two grown adults, crying like lovesick teenagers in the middle of a team motorhome.”
Oscar chuckles, brushing away the dampness on your cheeks with gentle fingers. “I think we’ve earned the right to be a little ridiculous on the day we decide to spend forever together, don’t you?”
You have to concede he has a point. Heaving an exaggerated sigh, you curl further into his embrace, reveling in the steadying warmth and strength of his arms around you. “I suppose that’s fair. Though you’d better prepare yourself for a lifetime of dealing with my particular brand of ridiculousness.
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Oscar says simply, dropping another soft kiss on your upturned lips.
You hum into the kiss, all the frantic energy that had thrummed under your skin earlier now replaced with an unparalleled sense of peace and contentment. It seems Oscar’s trick of using gentle caresses and soothing touches to calm you is finally complete — he’s managed to lull you into a state of perfect tranquility simply by promising to be yours forever.
As if he can read your thoughts, Oscar murmurs against your hairline, “There, you see? I knew I could get you to settle down one of these days.”
You let out an amused snort, not even trying to deny his teasing words. There’s no point — you both know Oscar has an almost preternatural ability to silence the constant buzz in your mind and body with just his presence alone. He’s the only one who can slip past your whirlwind defenses and soothe your restless spirit into a state of true serenity.
“Yes, alright, you win,” you concede drowsily, the combination of Oscar’s warmth and steady heartbeat under your ear lulling you into a state of contented haze. “You’ve officially tamed me. I’m defenseless against you.”
“Good,” Oscar rumbles, sounding immensely satisfied as he tightens his arms around you possessively. “I’ll be sure to take full advantage of that from now until forever.”
And somehow, despite the teasing lilt to his words, you know with certainty that he means every syllable. With a contented sigh, you let your eyes drift shut, feeling more at peace than you ever have as you melt into the protective circle of your new fiance’s embrace.
Yes, you think hazily as the tension finally seeps from your body entirely. This wonderful and beautifully stabilizing man is going to be yours forever … and you can’t wait.
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cheralith · 3 days
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wish you well — 「 celebrity!gojo x manager!reader (drabble & headcanons 」
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synopsis ; after being one of the nation's most well-loved celebrity's manager for nine years, it's time to call it quits. said celebrity, however, doesn't take it too well.
content tags/warnings ; gn!reader, no pronouns for reader used, mild angst, some parts not edited/not beta read
contains ; celebrity!au, a-list actor!gojo satoru, manager!reader, no powers au
notes ; plot inspired by "what's wrong with secretary kim" after my nth rewatch haha
now playing ; i wish you love - nancy wilson
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Everyone goes to lean forward in their seats, gripping the edge of it as the music that’s singing from the movie theatre’s speakers suddenly stops, letting the sound effects of rain pebble through instead. The screen displays a running, drenched man in the rain of a lonesome road in the middle of the countryside, his crystal blue eyes hazy with a brim of tears balancing in them as he huffs and puffs, the exhaustion within him visible. The camera cuts to a woman seated safely under a bus stop as the rain pours down with the same view of a descending countryside town still blurred in the distance. She grips the handle of her suitcase as her head goes to gaze solemnly at her shoes. 
A bus goes to a screeching halt, only the tender wheel of it visible as the woman’s gaze is still stuck on the floor before she looks up to see the bus doors opening before her. The running man appears before the screen, desperation clear on his face before the camera slowly turns towards the bus stop the formerly-sitting woman is now standing under. 
“Loretta! Don’t you dare get on that bus!”  the man yells out, earning the woman’s attention.
The woman widens her pale green eyes at the sight of him breaking out into a sprint. She swallows a nervous gulp, too frozen to move from her spot until the man enters under the shelter of the bus stop. His chest engraved with the lining of visible muscles are evident through his pale blue button-down that’s slicked with water and the sight earns a couple of lip bites from women in the theatre. 
The woman stammers, “Y-you know I need to do this…”
“No you don’t,” the man mutters, the camera panning to show his eyes holding desperation and a slight flicker of anger. “Your father wants you to do this, but I know you. I know you don’t want to.”
“But it’s my duty, Vincent—”
“Don’t give me that ‘duty’ shit!” The man shakes his head, letting droplets of water fling all over. “Loretta, please… just stay here with me,” he pleads, holding her face in his hands and forcing the woman to look up at him as his thumbs wipe away her tears that grab onto mascara. “We can stay here… get a house together… build a family… die old together like you said we would. You’re not gonna break your promise, are you?”
“Vincent, that was when we were six!” the woman exclaims sadly, “Don’t tell me you’re still hanging onto that.”
“I’m not hanging onto that promise,” he whispers, pulling her face closer to his. 
The instrumental of a music track begins to play softly in the background, obvious tension rising to the surface in the theatre as the scene continues. A couple of hands shovel into large popcorn buckets and without thinking, shove the popcorn into their salivating mouths. Nails dig into the palms of hands as some chew on them out of anticipation. Eyes wide and unblinking, they give their full attention to the screen.
“Say the line…” whispers one person.
The man tenderly kisses her in a short, but passionate kiss, letting her release from him with a dreamy sigh. 
“I’m holding on to you,” he murmurs ever so softly. 
Compared to the quietness of the man on the screen, the theatre goes absolutely crazy. Shouts and cheers ring through the air as numerous rounds of applause go to harmonize with them. 
The scene in the movie finalizes with Loretta finally swallowing her pride and nodding to Vincent’s agreement, sealing the movie with a kiss that lasts until the screen slowly fades to black. 
“Annnd… that’s a wrap,” the director of the movie jokes as he stands up from his seat. He earns a few laughs from the cast and the crew of the movie. The theatre begins to light up once more and gives a clear view of everyone, including the section that holds the main cast up near the back. “I’d like to give one last thank you to Satoru Gojo and Yuki Tsukumo one last time for giving an amazing performance and dedicating their time for the past year and a half. Thank you both ever so dearly.”
Satoru Gojo, also known as Vincent, goes to stand up with his co-star, also known as Loretta, and they give a synchronized bow to the people in the theatre as the premier for his latest movie finally draws the curtains from behind the audience. “Thank you for directing another outstanding movie. I truly do look forward to working with you again in the future,” he gives another dazzling smile as he and Yuki elegantly walk down the stairs together. They say their final goodbyes as co-stars and depart to opposite sides of the theatre where they’re greeted with their teams. 
You go to hand him his coat you’ve been hanging on to for the past ninety minutes, the scent of cologne finally fading after a suffocating hour and a half. Glancing at the director who heartily laughs with some of the editors of the movie, you let out a light chuckle. 
“Hm? What’s so funny?” Satoru inquires as he shoves on his coat. 
“You’re such a liar,” you say, shrugging as you and him exit the movie’s premiere together, some of the actor’s team following shortly after, conversing with another about how spectacular the movie was. “You’d rather throw yourself off a cliff than work with that guy again.”
Without looking at you, Satoru grins ahead. “You know me so well.”
Ijichi, the chauffeur, is waiting patiently outside the venue despite the winter cold. When he sights the many delighted smiles and laughter, he asks, “I take it the premiere went well?” 
“Very,” you nod, getting into the car to enjoy its warmth.
The car ride is nothing out of the usual, just quiet jazz playing in the background and the city lights glimmer from above. 
“Oh, what’s the agenda for tomorrow by the way?” Satoru asks, his gaze turning from the window to you, who still is focused on the tablet that checks off today’s draining tasks for the celebrity. 
Photoshoot for Ray Ban… done. Look over next month’s plans for Season Two of Jujutsu Kaisen… done. Suit fitting for movie premiere… done. Movie premiere… done!
“(Y/N)~” Satoru calls again but dragging the last syllable of your name and snapping his fingers in front of you to capture your attention. He chuckles when you jolt in your seat. 
“Sorry,” you mutter before swiping to tomorrow’s agenda. “Alright, nothing too big. You just gotta sign that contract that you’ll be the spokesperson for Chaumet, then right after, you have an Elle interview regarding the movie. Then, you’ll have a final dinner with the entire cast and that’s it for the week.”
Satoru nods in approval and obviously ready to take on tomorrow’s attacks. Only three things? He can handle that with ease. If anything, it’s been less of a load to bring on from the recent events that had been happening as of lately. His feet could really use a break from walking over so many red carpets. 
The road begins to lead down a familiar path as you realize you pass the local family diner, your apartment’s entrance shortly coming to view. Ijichi slows to a stop and unlocks the door, letting you out. Before Satoru can say goodbye to his beloved manager, however, you stop the window from rolling up and lean down into the car again. 
“Oh, I forgot to say this earlier, but,” you pause, making sure his attention is all on you for this short, but possibly life-alternating moment. “You’re also meeting your new manager tomorrow, too. She’s really sweet and—”
Time freezes for a moment.
“Wait a minute,” Satoru furrows his brows and faces his body completely towards you, his countenance pulling the curtains to reveal a confused, serious expression that rarely appears on his face. “New manager…? What do you mean?”
The question comes out more as a demand. Breath hitching for a short moment, you release it and smile gently with the corners not letting your eyes curve. You had been anticipating this moment for the longest time now—around half a year of decision making and weighing the pros and cons, then three months deciding when the right time to break the news would be. But at this time, you’ve ran out of time and you’ve ultimately decided to push it towards the day before the deadline, something you almost never do. A little solemnly, you sigh out softly and finally declare the groundbreaking news to the A-list celebrity, your head still high.
“I’ll be quitting as your manager, soon.”
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Actor!Gojo, who doesn't get a good night sleep after that abrupt statement, in which you barely gave him time to try and ask why on earth you're giving up the job that many people would kill for, only leaving him with a small wave and a subtle "goodnight." Your voice replayed in his head the entire night, the sentence resembling nails on a chalkboard the more he repeated it to himself—"I'll be quitting as your manager, soon."
Actor!Gojo, who thinks you have the nerve to put on a smile and greet him good morning the following sunrise as if nothing happened, as if you weren't breaking a bond of nearly nine years with him. Your words for today’s plans go in and out of his ears as Satoru wearily examines your appearance and movements in the kitchen that he almost never uses as he rounds up his thoughts that poisoned his head ever since you said that all-too-bold statement last night that shifted his entire world in the matter of seconds.
Actor!Gojo, who cuts you off mid-sentence, asking you sharply why you're quitting as his manager out of the blue, his usually-playful baby blue hues piercing right into you. He notices your smile faltering a bit, but never completely dissipating, though it comes severely close to doing so when you tell him why.
Actor!Gojo, who listens much too intently for his liking when he hears you out, a feat he rarely does. "The past nine years have been wonderful, don't get me wrong," you murmur as you slather on a sugary marmalade on his toast. "But I don't think I'm really getting much out of life just being someone's manager."
Actor!Gojo, who pretends as if those last two words don't sting his chest. Someone's manager... as if he's not one of the most worshipped and celebrated A-list actors in the industry right now. But he supposes that's why he stuck by you, since you understood that he, too, was just a regular human being at the end of the day like the rest of humanity, even with his godlike good looks.
Actor!Gojo, whose mouth runs dry when you continue. "I don't want to be the side character to someone's story. I deserve to live fully too." you finish, pushing Gojo's plate of breakfast towards him before snacking on the leftovers. You stare at him, awaiting his response. You understand that despite you thinking over such a big decision for a few months, that it was better to rip off the bandaid and avoid any further complications by quitting unexpectedly, even though you knew Gojo better than anyone.
Actor!Gojo, who attempts to understand where you're coming from. Yes, he can get that maybe this life wasn't the most exciting, but then again, what other jobs out there are? At least with this one, you're guaranteed good—dare he say, great—pay and stability, along with experiencing second-hand what it's like to see all the glitz and glamour most of the population fiend for. It's thanks to him that you've been draped in designer clothes for premiers, that you've tried Michelin delicacies, that you've travelled the world. So... why ditch all of that for a more simple life? Aren't you content?
Actor!Gojo, whose mind flashes back to the moment where you stared a little too longingly at a lovesick couple in the window of a coffee shop, or when your eyes lingered on the engagement rings in a shop window that one day he had to get a suit tailored. He suddenly remembers the one dress rehearsal where he witnessed an extra asking for your number before you declined politely. He had asked you jokingly that you were blind to reject such a handsome guy (second to him, of course), only for you to reply you smiled gently at him and said you had no time to date.
Actor!Gojo, who suddenly blurts out without any restraint, and with a little more edge than expected, "What? D'you want to get married or something?"
Actor!Gojo, who regrets the sentence as soon as it escapes his lips. He swallows thickly and attempts to organize the right words for a proper apology. You stare blankly at him for a moment, and before Gojo can say anything, you nod. "Yeah. It's been a dream of mine to, actually..."
Actor!Gojo, who thinks his coffee tastes much bitter than usual, silently nods after a moment of awkward silence. You open your mouth first to try and cut it through, but he beats you to it. "I'm sure I could re-arrange some stuff in the schedule so you can get out there and meet someone. There's no need to quit." He ignores the weird pang in his chest the moment he says "someone."
Actor!Gojo, who frowns when you shake your head. You explain it would still be hard, as he'd remain your first priority despite it all. You mention that you've already submitted your resignation letter to his agency three weeks ago and that it's been processed, that it'll be your last two weeks as you being his manager and that you'll be saying goodbye to what had been nearly a decade of companionship with the celebrity.
Actor!Gojo, who flinches as the doorbell rings and watches miserably as you fetch the person at the door. She's a young girl, around the age when you first started as his manager, with choppy bangs and long blue hair, along with a bright and ready smile. You introduce her as his to-be manager, but Gojo can't shake off the thought of being greeted by her face in the morning and seeing her face as the last thing he sees before he goes to sleep instead of yours.
Actor!Gojo, who thinks this week is going much too fast for his liking. Despite essentially begging for the director of his latest TV show to give him some extra scenes to shoot, he was excused early with the rest of the crew after all the required scenes were shot nicely. Somehow, the brand deal commercial and meeting flew by much faster than usual, too. But despite it all, Gojo couldn't help his eyes constantly flickering to your figure whenever you were in his field of vision, even receiving multiple warnings from the director from the commercial to stop getting distracted.
Actor!Gojo, who finds his gaze lingering on a rather old picture of you and him, along with some blurry figures in the background. Nine years younger, both of you, with outdated fashion and makeup. He remembers you were just shy of being his manager for four months, when he was still trying to break out of the shell of being a nepotism baby and attempting to create a name for himself. Gojo prided himself on his independence, but he'd be fooling himself if he didn't give a hefty amount of credit of his success to you. After all, you were the one that was in charge of his many brand deals and were the one that landed him roles that granted him film awards.
Actor!Gojo, who can't find the right words to say during the drives home, hating how the air is always thick whenever you were alone with him. He doesn't think he can get used to not pulling up to your apartment when the night comes to an end before going to his, despite your affirmations that him and Miwa would get along great. He murmurs a good night to you, not facing you despite watching your reflection intently in the window, but before you wish him a good evening, you say something that forces him to face you.
"I have... a dinner reservation with someone at 6:30 p.m., so I'll be leaving early tomorrow."
Gojo blinks. "Is that implying you have a date?"
"I..." you swallow anticipatingly. "I suppose you could say that."
Actor!Gojo, who feels the familiar pang of his chest as the thought of someone else sharing a dinner with you, something you've been doing with him since the very beginning of his career. He can't even imagine a person, only some sort of foggy figure sitting across from you, sharing a shabby meal. He can tell you're waiting a response from him before you head into your apartment, and he wryly says, "That's great... Hope you have a good time or whatever..." before commanding the driver to drive off, not even waiting for another word from you.
Actor!Gojo, who drums his fingers with great boredom against the door's handle, fighting off the nuisance that was the city's insane traffic this evening. When he gazes out the window to find some other distraction other than his phone, however, he instantly finds himself drawn to a familiar figure being seated at the window a few stories up in the restaurant his car was stuck in front of. You're up there, dressed regally for another, giggling with them at something they said (something stupid, Gojo thinks to himself). Teeth grit against themselves when they feed you a small portion of their food with their fork, the indirect kiss making his eyes narrow.
Actor!Gojo, whose spontaneous anger suddenly dispels when he repeats your words from earlier that week.
"What? D'you want to get married or something?"
"Yeah. It's been a dream of mine to, actually..."
Gojo suddenly pauses and goes still for a while, thinking over something incredulous. He blinks repeatedly, before a grin etches on his face as his plan settles into his consciousness. Gojo may not give you anything you desire if you're just his mere manager...
... but if he were your husband, then that meant your dream would be fulfilled and you could stay at his side for what was essentially the rest of his life and give you anything you wanted. He'd never have to fret about you leaving his life ever again.
Satoru Gojo, you absolute Einstein... he compliments himself proudly in his mind. Letting out a confident huff as the car begins to drive on, he tells the driver to head on over to the nearest jewelry store before heading home.
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a/n: hi sorry it's been a while! i was finishing up a semester at uni, so forgive my absence with this little weird hybrid ficlet of mine featuring the one and only
i hope you enjoyed and thank you for taking time out of your day to enjoy my writing! likes/comments/reblogs are always noticed and are always appreciated (´。• ᵕ •。`) ♡ !!!
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ellecdc · 1 day
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the case of the missing pickles
poly!marauders x slytherin seer!reader who can't stop Seeing them [2.9k words]
amalgamation of various prompts:
prompt 1 from 🔮🐍 anon: I was wondering if you could do a part two of Sight's Set where one of her visions comes true? maybe the vision is of her on a date with them to Hogsmeade, but it turns out differently where she goes to Hogsmeade alone and they find her there and join her??? prompt 2 from anonymous: Can I please request marauders with a reader who are just in the beginning of their relationship and yet they know r so well like she doesn't have to even ask and she's all confused and flustered prompt 3 from 🕊️ anon: Remus calling feisty slytherin reader 'dove' being her kryptonite
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The sun was warm on your skin as the castle gates permeated your view. You were trying to hide your amused smile at the boys’ antics, though you’re sure you were unsuccessful when a gentle laugh escaped your lips.
James faltered in his steps at the sound, turning to look at you with a beaming smile.
“Well gorgeous,” Sirius teased with a salacious grin as he moved to stand in front of you. “I had a wonderful time on our date today.” 
Remus breathed out a chuckle as he placed your jacket that he had been carrying over your shoulders, taking a moment to squeeze your shoulder affectionately before moving to stand with James.
“Don’t make any plans for next Hogsmeade weekend; we’ll definitely be doing this again!” James called; Remus encouraging him forward by a hand on his waist as Sirius walked away from you backwards to continue looking you up and down.
“Don’t miss us too much.” He said with a wink before turning to join the other two boys.
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You woke up with a start, shooting upright in your bed as you sucked in a much needed breath. Goosebumps erupted all over your body as the feeling of being submerged in cold water began to dissipate and your nervous system realised it wasn’t dying.
After nearly two decades of living with ‘the gift’ of Sight, one would think your body would have a better response to it.
Alas, it still acted like you were moments away from death.
Perhaps it wasn’t too far off, what with all your Sights of the Marauders overtaking your every waking (and sleeping) moment; perhaps you were dying, perhaps that would be preferable.
After taking a warm shower to bring some much needed heat back to your bones and wash away the residual nerves that your vision had caused, you decided to put it out of your mind; you would never agree to waste one of your precious Hogsmeade trips with the Marauders anyways, so there really was no point stewing over it.
You eventually made your way into the Slytherin common room to find Regulus and Barty already situated with a copy of the Daily Prophet.
“Good morning, Treasure!” Barty cheered as he stood abruptly from his spot on the sofa with Regulus. “Heading to Hogsmeade today?”
“You know that I am, Barty.” You responded with a smirk. “I told you I needed to go to Tomes and Scrolls; the book I ordered should be in.”
“Great!” Barty clapped his hands together. “I need to stop at Dogweed & Deathcap!”
“Absolutely not.”
Barty paused in his excited tirade to look at you incredulously. “What do you mean, absolutely not!?”
“I mean you are absolutely not coming with me, Barty.”
“Why!?”
“Barty.” You started as if you were speaking to a rather troublesome toddler. “Last time I let you come with me you had us kicked out of Zonko’s and then spent two and half hours violently debating with the Dogweed & Deathcap shopkeep about the proper brewing times for veritaserum.” 
Barty stared at you bewilderedly as you held his gaze.
“You’re really not going to let me come with you?” He asked after a painfully long silence. 
“No.”
Barty stomped his foot once and let out a petulant breath. “Then you’re not allowed to be my best woman at our wedding!”
Regulus looked up from the newspaper he’d been engrossed with in favour of this ridiculous conversation to look at the two of you in bemusement.
“Wha-? We’re not getting married?” Regulus stated as a question, effectively removing Barty’s furious glare from you only to have it directed at himself. 
“It’s just one sodding disappointment after another!” He screeched before turning and storming off towards the boys’ dormitory. 
You and Regulus stared at the empty spot that was once Barty Crouch Junior before Regulus broke the silence by standing with a tired sigh. 
“Well I guess I know what you’ll be up to today.” You teased gently earning you a groan from the youngest Black. 
“If you happen to be by Honeydukes…”
“Yeah, yeah.” You cut him off, accepting the galleons he pulled from his pocket as he held them out to you. “I’ll pick him up some sugared butterfly wings.” 
“Thanks, I’ll need all the help I can get.” He grumbled as he made his way after his cantankerous boyfriend. 
Even the dreary weather couldn’t bring your mood down as you pocketed your galleons and accepted Barty’s bag of sugared butterfly wings from the Honeydukes shopkeep. 
You loved Hogsmeade, and you loved visiting with your friends, but sometimes there was nothing like enjoying a peaceful trip on your own.
Feeling quite pleased at having procured your special order from Tomes & Scrolls and successfully running Regulus’ errands, you pulled your hood up to protect yourself from the elements outside before pushing open the shop door only to collide with a heavy force on the other side. 
“Hullo, L/N!” James called as he quickly righted you. 
This cannot be happening. 
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You grumbled as you stepped out of James’ hold, pretending like you didn’t notice the slight fall in his expression at the loss of contact.
“Nope, I think you’ll find I’m really quite Sirius.” Sirius said with a wink.
“Ew-” You started, turning to look at the longhaired boy in disgust. “That was terrible. That’s a terrible joke.” 
“Listen, when you get cursed with a name that’s also an adjective, you get to make all the terrible jokes you’d like.” He responded plainly. 
“You get used to it.” Remus sighed; offering you a sympathetic crooked smile.
“I should think I won’t, thank you very much.” You said as you turned to walk away, only to feel a gentle hand grasp your elbow.
“Whoa whoa, where’re you off too in such a hurry?” James asked teasingly. 
“The castle?” You responded quickly, immediately berating yourself for deigning to explain yourself to the likes of the Marauders. 
“Before lunch?” Remus asked then. “It’s not a trip to Hogsmeade without a stop at the Three Broomsticks.” 
“I’m not hungry.” You proclaimed with finality only for your stomach to traitorously contradict you by groaning rather loudly at the thought of one of your beloved tuna melts from the restaurant.
“Liar.” Sirius smirked smugly. “To the Three Broomsticks!”
Before you had a chance to protest, Remus and Sirius were walking ahead as James threw his arm over your shoulders and guided you after them.
“Get your hands off of me, Potter.” You spat.
“Sorry sweetheart, I wish I could, but then I’d have no way of ensuring that you wouldn’t just take off.” He apologised, not sounding very apologetic at all. 
You thought of your Sight from this morning but decided you were relatively safe; they had called it a date - this was decidedly a hostage situation. Besides, the weather had been really rather lovely in your Sight; today’s weather was quite the opposite.
It was fine.
This wasn’t a date.
You were fine.
Just fine. 
Except you had no sooner entered the Three Broomsticks before Sirius was pulling out a chair for you as James rather forcefully sat you in it; Remus quickly sitting and blocking your means of escape on your other side.
“I’ll go order!” James called quickly before nearly skipping towards the bar to do just that.
Sirius sat across from you looking all sorts of chuffed at his current predicament, smiling knowingly between Remus and yourself. “So,” he started. “Any more visions of your wonderful future with us?”
“Bite me.” You spat immediately, hoping to all the gods that no one noticed the heat emanating from your cheeks at the question. 
“I’ll take that as a yes.” He smirked.
“Be nice to her.” Remus chided softly. “She already doesn’t want to be here.”
That’s right, you thought petulantly before quickly scolding yourself for agreeing with a Marauder. 
Entirely too soon in your opinion did James return, happily sitting beside Sirius and looking around the table. “So! What’d I miss?”
“Y/N wants me to bite her.” Sirius responded quickly. “Okay!” James agreed readily. “Now?”
“Oh my gods I’m going to avada myself.” You muttered as you pressed your fingers into your temples.
“Oh come now, not before lunch.” Remus chuckled, rubbing conciliatory circles onto your back.
You couldn’t believe how tactile these boys seemed to be; they almost always had their hands on each other in some way. Sirius currently had a hand on James’ thigh who had his arm thrown casually over the other boy’s shoulder. You were almost certain that James had extended his legs under the table and was currently playing some form of footsie with Remus, who, in turn, had his hand on your back. 
And then you thought of the ease that James had thrown his arm over your own shoulder on your way here as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“What’re you thinking so hard about?” Sirius asked, pressing a finger to the divot that was growing between your brows before you hastily swatted his hand away from you.
“Just wondering what I ever did in another life to deserve this.” 
“Must’ve been an angel in another life to deserve us.” He responded haughtily.
“She’s an angel in this life too.” James added; beaming smile making you feel as though you needed to squint your eyes lest you look directly at it. 
The barkeep saved you from having to think of a response by placing food in front of each of you.
Your beloved tuna melt that you had been dreaming of earlier sat on a plate before you, confusing you as to how James seemed to know your order.
But perhaps he hadn’t; perhaps the barkeep recognised you and knew what you usually ordered. 
You pulled open the sandwich and were hit by another curiosity.
“There’s no pickles?” You asked aloud, causing the three boys to look at you in bemusement. 
“Did you want pickles?” James asked you slowly; his fork hovering over his plate as he delayed the first bite of his own meal on your account. 
“Well…no, but it usually comes with pickles.” You explained dumbly. 
“Yes but you always pick them off, so I asked for no pickles.” He explained simply before finally taking his long awaited bite. 
“How did you know that?” You demanded rather harshly then. 
“Know what? Your order?” Sirius asked on James’ behalf.
“Yes. And the pickles.”
“Because we pay attention?” Remus offered then; you could see him scrutinising you from the corner of your eye.
“Do you want me to go ask for pickles so that you can pick them off?” James teased then, an ill-suppressed amused grin threatening to overtake his face. 
“No, I want you to stop that.”
“Stop what?” Sirius asked with a smirk. “Knowing things about you?”
“Yes, that. Stop that.” You ordered.
“You’d have to obliviate me.” James taunted, leaning on his elbow and resting his chin on his fist as he considered you. 
“Better make sure to get the incantation right, gorgeous.” Sirius added. “Otherwise you’ll be responsible for his care when you ultimately put him into a vegetative state.”
You huffed petulantly before opting to take a bite from your sandwich in favour of continuing with your current conversation. 
“I’m sorry, but I have to ask-” Remus started with an amused grin on his face. “If you don’t like pickles, why don’t you just ask for no pickles?”
You let out a conceding sigh as you swallowed your bite. “I don’t want to be a bother…it’s just as easy to pick them off myself.”
You felt shame prickle at the back of your neck when your answer was met with silence before Sirius let out a bark of laughter. 
“Oh my Godric,” He exclaimed excitedly. “You are a big softy.” 
Against your better judgement you kicked your foot out at the long haired Marauder, horrified when James yelped before reaching under the table to rub his hand over his shin. 
“Fucking hells, sorry Potter.” You grumbled as you tried to curl in on yourself, watching as Remus cooed at the bespectacled boy and Sirius laughed at him. 
“Oh, no worries angel.” James offered you tightly, voice coloured with pain as he forced a smile at you. “Merlin, you've got quite the leg on you.”
“Fuck yeah she does.” Sirius agreed salaciously, earning him a fiery glare from you as you considered re-aiming your foot. 
“Easy there, dove. Play nice, yeah?” Remus murmured then, causing a shiver to rush down your spine as you turned to look at him with your mouth parted slightly.
You were absolutely horrified at the very visible reaction you had to the scarred boy’s endearment - and you knew it was a very visible reaction because Remus had a very visible reaction to it. 
“You’re alright, dove.” He murmured again, this time with a knowing smirk before turning back to his own sandwich and pretending like he hadn’t just completely rocked your world with one simple word. 
You looked over to see Sirius pick off of James’ plate as you waited for James to use his fork as a weapon for the egregious crime of stealing food, only to see James quickly load up a fork-full and hold it out for Sirius to try. 
“Fuck, I should have ordered that instead.” Sirius admitted as he swallowed the bite.
“Wanna switch?” James offered quickly, already lifting his plate to give Sirius room to slide his over should he want. 
“I’m not taking your meal, bubs.” Sirius responded with a smile as a faint blush dusted the tops of his cheeks. 
“You’re not taking, I’m offering.” James insisted, moving Sirius’ plate in front of him before placing his own plate in front of Sirius when it became obvious the other boy wasn’t going to help. 
“Thank you.” Sirius admitted rather shyly for the notoriously boisterous boy before he pecked a kiss to James’ cheek.
You looked over to Remus in bemusement only to see him looking lovingly over at his boyfriends. 
“Did you wanna switch, too?” Remus asked then, alerting you to the fact that he was quite aware that you had been staring at him.
“Absolutely not; you stay away from my tuna melt.” You spat before taking another bite.
You found yourself quite glad that the boys simply laughed before moving on to other topics of conversation, watching curiously as they talked and joked the afternoon away.
By the time the four of you were making your way back towards the castle the sky had cleared, leaving the spring air fresh and fragrant in the warm sun.
You felt a gentle tug and turned to watch Remus pull your jacket out of your arms before folding it over his own arm to carry it for you.
Shit. 
“Moons! What do muggles call the game ‘leaping toadstools’?” Sirius called suddenly from where he and James had run ahead.
Remus breathed out a chuckle as he smiled at them. “Leapfrog.” He called back with an audible eyeroll you were sure was mostly for show.
“Rem, I bet five galleons that me and Pads can leapfrog the whole way back to the castle.” James shouted.
“I’m not betting.”
James let out a horrified scoff. “Why not!?”
“Because I know that you likely can even though you probably shouldn’t.” He responded simply.
“Don’t rain on our parade, Moony.” Sirius said dismissively, waving Remus off like he was the definition of anti-fun. 
And to your absolute horror, you found yourself rather entertained as you watched them line up to play leapfrog; the only interruption of the game on your walk being to pet the odd cat, point at a patch of honking daffodils, and to run back and steal kisses from Remus (glaring at them when they threatened to do the same with you). 
The sun was warm on your skin as the castle gates permeated your view. You were trying to hide your amused smile at the boys’ antics, though you’re sure you were unsuccessful when a gentle laugh escaped your lips.
James faltered in his steps at the sound, turning to look at you with a beaming smile.
“Well gorgeous,” Sirius teased with a salacious grin as he moved to stand in front of you. “I had a wonderful time on our date today.” 
Remus breathed out a chuckle as he placed your jacket that he had been carrying over your shoulders, taking a moment to squeeze your shoulder affectionately before moving to stand with James.
“Don’t make any plans for next Hogsmeade weekend; we’ll definitely be doing this again!” James called; Remus encouraging him forward by a hand on his waist as Sirius walked away from you backwards to continue looking you up and down.
“Don’t miss us too much.” He said with a wink before turning to join the other two boys.
And though you would sooner die than admit this to anyone, after this rather lovely afternoon and with the amount of time the Marauders have spent leapfrogging through your mind, you didn’t think you could miss them too much, even if you wanted to.
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luveline · 1 day
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Hi, love! Hope you’re well <3
Could we perhaps have some more single dad Spencer? I miss him and Amanda so much
tysm lovely❤️❤️ —Spencer misses you when he’s not working, so Amy tries to fix that. fem, 1.8k
Spencer thinks about quitting the BAU, sometimes. It was all he ever knew how to do for a long, long time, and the work is important. He’s not too shy to say they need him. 
When someone else needs you more, you start to wonder if work is all there is. 
“And… kiss!” 
Spencer scrunches his eyes closed as Amy leans across to kiss his cheek. She’s decided that every time they finish a drawing, they should kiss. Spencer’s enjoying it very much. 
“Good job,” he says, “that was your best one yet.” 
“I’m getting good at bugs.�� 
To their left, they have opened a huge copy of The Modern Encyclopaedia of Bugs: Insects, Arachnids, and Myriapods. Spencer has purchased many, many books in his life, and this was somehow the fifth most expensive, but it’s worth it, because it’s what Amy likes. She loves laying down on her stomach with a pack of art crayons and drawing the intricate details of each creature. She is, as she said, getting very good at bugs. 
“I meant the kiss,” he says, leaning forward to tuck her hair behind her ears, mousy brown like his, twice as soft. “But the drawings are amazing every time.” 
“If I… if I draw this one for Y/N, do you think she’ll like it?” 
“She loves everything you draw her, baby,” he says softly, stroking another stray hair behind her ears. If she wasn’t so busy colouring the leg of a spider in concentrated strokes, he’d pull her into his lap for a cuddle. 
“I’m not a baby.” 
“You’re my baby,” he says, and she is. Spencer Reid has a kid. Who’d ever think it? 
The older she gets the more right it feels. He’s a dad. He was always meant to be one to Amy. 
“Amy, can I have a cuddle, please?” he asks softly. It’s fine if she says no. 
She throws her nice crayons down immediately. Usually he wouldn’t say anything, but they’re a gift from his mom, so he says, “Be gentle with your things,” as she climbs over her paper pad and the encyclopaedia to land in his lap. 
“So they’ll last longer,” she says.
He wraps his arms around her in a solid hug. “Exactly. The kinder we are to our stuff, the longer it lasts. That’s why–”
“Why you’re nice to your body,” she finishes for him. “Dad, I know.” 
“You know everything.” He closes his eyes and breathes her in. Amy’s hair smells like lavender kids shampoo, her clothes like detergent. They stood in the softener aisle and Spencer, on his knees to match her height, took down bottles for them to smell the caps one at a time until they found the best one, settling on apple blossom and jasmine. “You smell nummy.” 
Amy rubs her face into his chest. “What do I smell like?” 
“Really clean.” 
“So when I’m dirty, I smell yucky.” 
“You don’t ever smell yucky,” he mumbles, relishing the weight of her in his arms. “Oooh,” —he grabs her under the arms and ushers her right into his neck— “my Amy, I’m so happy to be home. I missed you sooo much this week.” 
“But you’re home next week.” 
Spencer has started consulting more and going on cases less. He’s glad to do it, he can afford it, and Amy will never be any younger. He’s never been happier balancing work and family, except… 
He used to see you everyday. It’s fine, he’ll choose Amy every time, but he wishes he didn’t have to, because he’s starting to miss you too. 
“I’m home,” he says. “For the next sixteen days. Maybe longer, if they don’t need me then. Hey, tonight, I was thinking we’d go swimming.” 
Amy makes a strange noise. “Um, well maybe not tonight.” 
“Are you kidding? You love swimming.” 
“I know, but I don’t want to go tonight.” 
“Why not, angel? We can get your pool noodle and the paddle boards.” He lets his nose wrinkle. “Is it your swimsuit? I guess we haven’t got a new one in a long time. We can go shopping first. We can go now, if you want to.” 
“Daddy, I asked Y/N to come over.” 
Spencer laughs. “What?” 
“I texted her.” 
Spencer realises she isn’t joking and holds her away from him. “You what?” 
“You left your phone in the bathroom,” she says defensively, her eyes on his shirt, “and I was washing my hands and it was boring and I thought you maybe missed her.” 
“How could you know that?” Spencer asks. 
“Because you talk about her lots, dad.” She shrugs. “Sorry.” 
“Don’t be sorry! No, no, it’s okay, it’s nice of you to think about me. That’s really kind.” Still, his stomach hurts thinking about it. “Did she… text you back?” 
“She said she’s coming over.” 
“She did?” Spencer asks. “Did she say when?” 
“She said five thirty.” 
Spencer checks his watch and feels his heart drop. “Oh my god.” He gets up with Amy in his arms, rushing to the mirror to see them both in their pajama’d disarray. “Oh my god! We need to get dressed. Amy, we need to brush our hair.” 
Spencer panics harder than he needs to, but seeing you in fifteen minutes when he thought he might not for another two weeks is stressful. He decides Amy will have to wear new pyjamas, that he’s going to have to put on jeans, and that both of them could have used a shower to tame the mess of their hair, his curly, hers fine. He sprays hers with detangler generously, brushes gently, and plops her in front of the air conditioning unit plugged into the window to dry. He’s barely raked a hand through his own hair when the door is being knocked. 
He can’t help squinting unhappily at Amy. She’s totally set him up. 
She smiles back, and he feels awful for not smiling too. 
“Amy, can you give me more warning next time?” he asks, crossing their living room to the front door. 
She smiles wider. “Yes!” 
“Okay, thank you.” 
He thinks, Ouch, I’m not very nice, then thinks Why would she do this to me? before settling on, Everything's okay. Amy didn’t really do anything wrong, Spencer isn’t mad at her, and you’re waiting on the other side of the door to see them. 
You smile on the stoop —how lucky is Spencer to have all these pretty girls smiling at him?— and adjust your bag over your shoulder, the cloth tote bag hooked on your elbow slipping and sliding with a rustle. 
“Hello!” you say. “Where’s the little lady?” 
“Hello!” Amy calls. “I’m by the air conditioner trying to get dry!” 
Spencer lets you in. You nod your head gratefully and put your bags on the sideboard, dumping your keys in the bowl beside his, and offering your now empty arms for a hug. “Hello,” you say, “you smell good.” 
Spencer panics. “You smell good.” Your arrival has brought the smell of Chinese food, and your jacket smells like perfume. 
“Dad says I smell good too.” 
You part from Spencer gently to bend down, meeting Amy at her height, arms out to offer a hug. “I bet you do. Hi, lovely girl, I haven’t seen you in too long.” 
You lean into her with care. Spencer suspects you think she’s much more breakable than she is, but you’re sweet about it regardless, giving her back a good rub and humming happily when she hugs you back. She’s way less careful. 
“Don’t strangle her, Amy.”
You pretend to choke. Amy laughs like a fiend. 
“I missed you,” Amy says. 
“Oh, sweetheart, I missed you too.” Spencer knows how good that must feel. “Can I get a good look at you?” 
Amy springs away to pose. Her damp hair kisses her shoulders, her pants hide her dirtied socks. Spencer forgets that he wants to impress you and instead sees how cute she is, laughing to himself as she does a swift spin and slips into the side of the couch. 
“Spence, she looks so much like you,” you say, grinning. “Don’t you think so?” You catch Amy’s eye. “You’re gorgeous! Can I see another one of those spins?” 
Amy spins. You nudge Spencer in the hip. “I brought dinner like you asked.” 
Spencer covers his face. “Was I polite?” he asks cautiously. 
“You said can I please have my favourite Chinese food and can I please have a soda,” you say, laughing, so at least it’s clear who was really texting you, “so yes, you were very polite.” 
“I don’t know what got into me.” 
“Guess you really, really, really missed me or something.” 
He loves Amy, and he wishes the wood floors beneath you would eat him whole; while it may be obvious that Amy’s posed as her father on the phone, it’s also clear that you, as a profiler, seem to have made assumptions as to why Amy would text you in the first place. 
“It’s okay,” you say, watching Amy as she races to her sketching papers and the encyclopaedia, “I really, really, really missed you too. Even though it’s only been two days. Did you get taller?” 
“No.” He gets the distinct sense that he’s getting flirted with, but he also doesn’t understand the compliment. “Same height, why?” 
“Feel like this is taking much more effort than usual,” you say, your hand on his shoulder as you lift your chin to kiss his cheek. 
Spencer follows you on instinct, not to kiss you or anything, but your elbow in his hand, almost begging for another. 
“Oh, no,” Amy says. 
Spencer feels your elbow but remembers himself, and raises his head. “What’s wrong, baby?” he asks, scouring her for injuries where she stands in front of you both, her drawing in hand. 
“Now you gave Y/N cooties.” 
Spencer blushes worse. “Oh, I didn’t kiss her! And I don’t have cooties, do I? I give you kisses all the time!” 
“You’re my dad,” she says. “But you’re a boy.” 
You pat him on his warm cheek. “He’s a boy, sure, but he’s not gonna give me cooties, don’t worry. I’m not here to see daddy, anyways,” you say, though your hand on his shoulder rubbing softly hints otherwise, “I’m here to see you. Let’s have our spring rolls before they get soggy, yes? Yum!” 
Spencer wants you to stay for much more than dinner, but dinner’s a good start. He swoops Amy up to carry her to the kitchen table —she’s such a babe, she deserves princess treatment only.  
“Kiss?” Amy asks. 
“Thought I had cooties?” he asks.
“Daaaad. I was joking.” And she wasn’t joking, but Amy gets her kiss.
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"Stellar Collision"
Spencer Reid x F!Reader
Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+)
Word Count: 8.2k
Content Warning: Mild injury, Description of injury, Smut, Fingering (F receiving), Penetrative Sex, Using Astronomy as a Plot Device
A/N: Please ignore any inaccuracies with the scientific stuff and the smut- I'm just silly and Asexual. I picture this as late season 4 Spencer, but you can picture whatever Spencer you want bbg.
Summary: Everyone knows you and Spencer Reid work well together- actually, the entire team thinks you two are the most oblivious profilers to ever work for the FBI, but c'est la vie- they figure you'll crash into each other eventually.
=======
Shaking the hand of the lead detective you introduce yourself before gesturing to Spencer who hovers behind you, “... and this is Agent Weirdly Sticky, a.k.a. Dr. Spencer Reid.”
Spencer’s face scrunches in an odd fusion of disgust, confusion, and amusement. He fights off the laugh that bubbles up and just lifts his hand in an awkward wave. Pressing his lips into a thin line to avoid the smile threatening to break out on his face. JJ elbows you in the ribs, earning a small ‘oomph’ as she pushes you aside. 
It had become routine at this point, calling him weird names to break the tension between the team and locals. Spencer’s hands rest on your shoulders to steady you as JJ takes over the conversation. You chuckle, following an officer into the precinct conference room to get everything set up. Hotch doesn’t say anything about your antics for once, resigning to just accept that there was no stopping you. 
“You really need to stop doing that, they’re going to think you don’t take things seriously.” Spencer mutters to you quietly, his hip lightly bumping into yours as the two of you stick photos onto the provided whiteboard.
“Yeah, maybe, but their face is worth it. It’s like they think federal agents can’t joke, so at first they believe me.” You giggle, sliding your hand around his waist, unceremoniously picking him up and pivoting him around you. You swap places with him quickly to tack a few pieces of evidence to the board.
Spencer lets it happen, not offering any help as you move him. Not that you need it, you were more than strong enough. “But “Agent Weirdly Sticky”? They’re going to think I don’t shower or something.”
You laugh, “At least they won’t try and touch you.” Looking at the board, you tilt your head a little. “The handwriting in each of these is so similar but look-” You point at two series of numbers, “one writes their seven with a dash, and the other doesn’t.”
Spencer leans forward to look at it, his eyes squinting as his mouth drops open in focus. 
“I swear you need to start wearing your glasses again.” You snort, reaching out and placing your fingers under his chin to push his jaw closed. 
He bats your hand away, “Glasses obstruct my peripherals.”
“But you look cute with them.” You argue, sliding to stand behind him, “I miss them.” 
Flattening your hands, you place them on either side of his head, blocking his peripherals. He ignores you, trying to focus on the pages in front of him rather than the warmth radiating off of your palms. Only moving when his phone rings, you drop them on his shoulders, turning him a little so you could grab his phone from his front pocket. 
“Hey Garcia, what’s up?” You greet, “...yeah, it’s me, what do you have for us?”
The investigation continues like that, the two of you revolving around each other, splitting up only when necessary, bouncing profiles off of the other.
Everyone knew you worked well together. Spencer was comfortable around you, not as stiff and one track minded as he would be working alone. He turned to you for most things, and sometimes when working through things in his mind he would just stare at you- Managing to find most of his answers in the curve of your nose and the color of your lips. 
You mellowed out around Spencer, his ramblings filling empty spaces almost like a living white noise machine. It was hard for most people to believe how abrasive and short fused you could be working alone. Irritation ran rampant with local PD getting in the way, suspects being difficult, media running with half baked stories; whenever the tension in your jaw threatened to spring into a full on rage, Spencer was always there.  
“You’re telling me you released the profile to the press even though we specifically told you not to?” Your eyebrows raise, hands pushing your sleeves up to your elbows.
“The public needs to know what they’re dealing with.” The detective crosses his arms over his chest, lifting his chin in challenge.
“Yeah? Well now our Unsub knows exactly what to change to avoid us, this guy is smart and he is watching.” Your voice raises slightly, shoulders squaring as you step chest to chest with the man. “From this point on, you release nothing to the press without approval from our Liaison or SSA Hotchner.” 
The detective snorts, shaking his head, “Oh yeah? And who are you to tell me what to do?”
Spencer instinctively reaches out, hooking his finger around your belt loop. He tugs you backwards, putting space between you and the focal point of your mounting rage. You don’t relax, but you let him pull you back.
“I’m the woman who’s gonna punch a hole through your spinal cord.” Your tone is icy, and he can almost hear your jaw pop from how hard you’re clenching your teeth. Spencer keeps his finger hooked on your belt loop, cringing slightly at the threat. 
It’s not that he disagrees with you, it was out of line for them to release a statement to the public without the team’s permission; and it’s not that he thinks you can’t back up your statement, he is well aware that you can. Spencer just didn’t want you to get suspended for assaulting an officer. Again.
Hotch approaches, stepping between you and the detective, and- to your relief- backs you up.
“If you release anything more to the public you can consider that little boy as good as gone. If you want us to be able to catch the unsub before it’s too late, it’ll do you well to listen to my agents.” His sharp gaze lingers on the man’s face before he turns to you, “Go cool off, and stop threatening people.” 
You nod and turn to leave, missing the small tilt of Hotch’s head, gesturing for Spencer to go with. He obliges, quickly rushing after you. 
Pacing around in the conference room, you keep your arms folded, chewing on the nail of your thumb.
“Sit.” Spencer pulls out one of the chairs, and you follow his instruction. Having gone through this routine again and again, you move a few stacks of papers, opening up a space for him to sit on the table’s glossy surface.
“I was reading up on star systems, and typically stars will orbit around each other in small or large groups- but most are trinary with only three stars…” Spencer hops up onto the table, crossing his legs under himself. He settles into his position, leaning his arms on his legs as he watches your face. 
He can tell by the way your head tilts that you’re listening, unconsciously bringing your ear closer to him. Folding your arms across your chest again, you roll your jaw to relieve the tension from the joint. He pays attention to your demeanor, watching the pressure between your eyes melt away. Crossing your legs, you tilt your hips, turning your body to face him though your gaze stays cast to the floor. Spencer responds by unfolding his legs, stretching them out to rest his feet on the apex of your thigh. 
Hands finding their way to the laces of his converse, you untie and retie them as his melodic droning fills the room. You keep yourself from looking at him, wanting to hold onto your anger for just a little longer. Spencer knows that you would’ve stewed in your fury for hours alone- and it seemed that Hotch knew the same. 
“... but then you have star systems that are just two stars- a binary system. The Sirius star system is the most well known, but Sirius A is a lot bigger than Sirius B. Sirius B is a white dwarf- which has around the same mass as our sun but condensed into a star not much bigger than the earth.”
“Without the extra gravity from another star like in trinary systems… Do binary stars collide a lot?” You ask and Spencer beams, happy that you were finally relaxed enough to fully engage.
“Actually, it’s pretty rare for them to collide. They stay stable for the most part, but when they do collide it’s most likely due to their stability being thrown off by the exchange of mass or gravitational radiation.” Unlacing his left shoe fully, you replace them upside down, tying the bow at the toe of his converse. He expected you to do the same with the other shoe, but you leave it asymmetrical. 
Lifting your gaze from his shoes, your eyes settle on his face. Spencer chews on his bottom lip, looking for any underlying stress in your features. He finds none.
“So, when a stellar collision occurs, the way it reacts depends on what kind of stars were involved in the collision. Like, if it was a set of white dwarfs, the gravitational radiation would cause them to spiral inwards and-”
Spencer is cut off by JJ poking her head in the room, “Hey, the unsub responded to the statement they released.”
You sigh, “Come on, Gorgeous, you can tell me more later.” pushing Spencer’s feet off of you before standing. You lead the way out of the conference room. As he follows, he tries to ignore the way his face warms when you call him gorgeous. He knew it was stupid to focus on your little nicknames- you use them often enough that he should be used to it by now- but his heart flutters all the same.
Spencer stands at your side, his slender fingers finding their way back around your belt loop. He didn’t think you would do anything, but local cops could be unpredictable.
A few feet away, Emily leans over to Morgan, “So how long have they been dating?” She asks.
Morgan looks at her, quirking an eyebrow, “Who?”
“Reid and his attack dog, duh.” She points to the two agents attached at the hip next to JJ. Morgan snorts, covering his mouth with his hand.
“They’re not,” He shrugs, laughing when Emily’s head snaps to look at him, “I know- I know, we like to say they are, they just don’t know it yet.”
Emily looks back at the two of you, noting how you lean back into him. Your head tilts up and you whisper in his ear, motioning to whatever the unsub had sent loosely. “You’re kidding…”
“I wish I was,” Derek shakes his head, moving to place his hands on his hips, “you’re looking at a four year relationship between the two most oblivious profilers in the FBI.”
The entire team has thought the two of you were dating at some point- even Gideon before he left. In the beginning, Hotch came to the conclusion that the two of you lived together and got into the habit of only calling one on the assumption that you would arrive together. And you did. Always.
With the unsubs response, you and Spencer manage to put together a solid lead to who exactly you’re looking for. You hand the letter to Spencer, and break away to call Garcia- still with Spencer’s phone.
Garcia locates the unsub and the team hits the road. After securing your own bulletproof vest, you approach Spencer. Undoing the velcro on the sides of his vest to redo them. The velcro ripping apart is loud, drawing the attention of Rossi. He makes a face, looking over at Hotch and Derek who shrug in response. 
You make sure they’re snug, sliding your hands along the curve of his waist. Moving on to the straps over his shoulders, your face scrunches a little in focus. Your hands are warm, radiating their heat onto the skin of his neck. Spencer watches you, your lips parted slightly, the tip of your tongue fitted between your teeth. You shimmy the vest, eyes roving over his torso to make sure there were no loose points. 
Satisfied, you pat the FBI emblem on his chest, turning away without a word.
As the team approaches the house, you enter ahead of him. Moving methodically through the hallways, indicating clear rooms through your intercom. You enter the garage slowly, Spencer following closely behind you. 
“FBI, drop the gun and show me your hands!” You have your gun on the unsub, expression stone cold. The man huffs, sweat dripping from his nose and he switches between pointing the barrel of his hand gun at you or Spencer. He seems to settle on the latter and you step forward, rushing the unsub who in turn shoots. 
Spencer expects impact, but it doesn’t find him. Instead, coupled with the dull ringing in his ears from the shot, he can hear the crack of the man’s nose as the butt of your pistol slams into it. You gently push the little boy the unsub was holding towards Spencer, who cradles him to his chest. 
“We have the kid- garage.” He can hear you gasp into your intercom, the breath knocked from your lungs at the impact of the bullet. Slamming the unsub into the concrete and cuffing him, you attempt to take in air. The grimace on your face isn’t from rage, he can tell that much, the tension is sat in your throat rather than your jaw.
Once the man is cuffed beneath you, your knee holding his arms in place as he squirms, you huff. Long, drawn out, breaths are pulled into your lungs. Expanding them slowly as you feel the searing, white hot, tendrils of pain erupting from the base of your ribcage.
===  
“I’m fine,” You assure him for the fifth time since the team got back to the precinct. He goes to say something, but you hold up your hand, your finger pushing against his forehead, “Yes. I promise.”
“But-” He grabs your wrist, “but, even if you were shot in the “bulletproof” vest, the vest isn’t actually bulletproof. You could have bruised or cracked ribs, internal bleeding, even organ damage-”
Wiggling your arm out of his grip, you slap a hand over his mouth, “I got checked out by the paramedics, I’m fine.” He grumbles but nods, his eyes soft as he silently pouts. “Perfect, now go pack up your stuff.”
He slinks away, still pouting. Packing up the things in the conference room slowly, his worry plaguing his demeanor. You frown as you watch him. Making Spencer upset was the last thing you wanted to do.
Morgan slides up next to you, “Hey there rockstar, I know you’re just trying to reassure him. How is it really?”
Sighing, you rub a hand over your face, “He shot me at close range, the bullet pierced through and I’ve got the most wicked bruise and it hurts to breathe- but I’m definitely not telling him that.” 
Morgan laughs, his eyebrows raised in concern. “You know he just worries, let him take care of you.” He pats your shoulder in support, stalking away as Spencer comes back, bag slung over his shoulder. 
Landing back in Quantico, Spencer finds his way into your car- something he had taken a liking to. You were a good driver, and Spencer didn’t really like driving all that much. Having to focus on so many things means that he can’t talk as much as he wants to. But he sinks comfortably into the passenger seat of your car. His shoulders drooping as he leans his head back on the head rest. 
He tucks his duffel under his legs, relishing in the leg room your car offered. Since he was the only one who really rode with you he had the seat set how he liked.
“Are you gonna finish your rant about stellar collisions?” You ask, your voice soft as it carries over the sound of the car’s A/C. He turns his head, eyebrows furrowing slightly in confusion. You laugh, “You were explaining what would happen if two white dwarfs crashed into each other. Are you sure about that eidetic memory thing?” 
He rolls his eyes at your teasing, but he straightens up in his seat, taking a second to remember where he left off. 
“So, the two white dwarves would emit gravitational radiation, or waves, which would cause their orbit to become unstable- which would in turn cause the stars to spiral into each other,” He uses his hands as a model, “and once they collide, the force causes carbon fusion to ignite. White dwarfs are basically dead stars that no longer support fusions, but the fusion is re-ignited by the merge.”
You nod along, turning into the parking lot of your apartment building. Spencer is confused, usually you would drop him off first, but he decides to keep his question to himself, “And since the dwarfs are made up of that degenerate matter, the equilibrium needed to keep the merge stable is pretty much non-existent. So the thermal pressure combined with the unstable weight of them crashing into each other causes a full blown supernova.”
“Supernova, huh? That’s pretty cool.” You grin, putting the car in park. You turn your head to look at him, and he stays silent. A soft smile rests on his face, and he takes the time to memorize the way the warm lighting of the street lamp shines on your soft features.
You turn off the car, pocketing your keys as you open the car door, “I need your help with something really quick, then I’ll drop you off at home, okay?”
“Yeah, no, of course.” He gets out of the car, mindlessly grabbing his bag as he rushes to catch up with you. Unlocking your ground floor apartment, Spencer shuffles in after you. He kicks off his shoes, nudging them into a neat position with his foot before placing his bag next to them.
You shrug off your jacket, hissing lightly as you slowly stretch your arms over your head. Motioning with a small tilt of your head, you lead him further into your apartment, flicking on a few lights as you do. 
After all these years of knowing you, Spencer hadn’t been to your apartment much. He liked how homey it felt, dark wood furniture scattered around neatly, warm lighting, and a little clutter here and there. It was very you.
Opening the door to your bedroom, you usher him inside. Your hand was on his lower back to guide him, “Chill out, Pancake, I just need you to help me change my bandage.” You chuckle, pushing him a little firmer as he hesitates. You separate from him to grab the first aid kit from your bathroom, setting it down on the mattress when you return.
“I thought you said you were fine?” He asks, tilting his head and furrowing his eyebrows a little.
“I am, but I might’ve just told you that because I didn’t want you worrying.” Your confession frustrates him and he crosses his arms, “Don’t look at me like that you Grackle, just help me out, please?”
Spencer nods, dropping his hands at his sides, stuffing them into his pockets. He watches as you shuffle through the contents of your first aid kit. His hand mindlessly lifts to scratch at the inner part of his right elbow. Without looking away from your task, you reach one of your hands behind you. Gently hooking your fingers around his, you push his hand away.
“Okay, so, it definitely looks worse than it is.” You warn, turning to him. Before he can ask what you mean, you start unbuttoning your shirt. His head snaps to look away, the tense joint in his neck cracking at the force. 
His cheeks warm, his hands coming up to fiddle with his tie. Keeping his eyes averted, he wills himself to stop thinking all together. All trains of thought chug their way back to you, your face, your lips, your bare torso- he has to stop thinking. Blank. Blankness.
“Uh, if you’re gonna help me I kinda need you to look,” You chuckle awkwardly. He slowly turns his head, feeling like his head is sitting atop a stack of rusty gears. To both his relief and utter disappointment, you were wearing a tanktop. He doesn’t have time to decide if he should choose between the two, you shrug off the button up before quickly pulling the tank top over your head.
Spencer was afraid he wouldn’t be able to tear his eyes away from your chest, clad in a black bra, but his eyes were immediately drawn lower. At the base of your ribcage sits a large mass of purple and red splotchy skin spreading out from underneath a bloodied bandage. His mouth falls open when he sees it, his eyes flicking between your face and the bruising over and over. 
“Like I said,” you raise your hands, “It looks worse than it is. The bullet pierced through the vest a little and it hit skin.”
“What? Do you have any broken ribs, any organ damage, what if you’re bleeding internally?” He rushes, his hand cupping the curve of your ribs. His thumb grazes over the edge of the bandage.
Tensing at his touch, you respond swiftly, “I have a broken rib, a few fractures and a ton of bruising. The ribs took the brunt of the force, no organ damage.”
“That you know of-” 
You shush him, placing your hand over his. His fingers were warm against your bare skin. Making no move to remove his hand fully, you gently slide his hand lower to rest in the dip of your waist. He lets out a shuddering breath, briefly distracted by the softness of your side. 
Peeling back the bandage, you wince, swallowing the hiss bubbling at the back of your throat. The center of the impact was so red it looked black, the dark purple skin surrounding it giving the illusion of a black hole. Reminding himself of what exactly he was here for, Spencer sits on your bed, guiding you by your waist to stand between his legs.
He gets to work, gingerly removing his hand from your side to grab the contents of your kit. Working silently, he focuses on being as gentle as possible while also assessing the damage. His eyes squint softly, his jaw hanging open as he disinfects it. You watch him, your head tilted downwards, noting every small mole or freckle you can as you try to ignore the burning ache in your abdomen- both physically and metaphorically. 
Having him this close was supposed to be the norm, right? The two of you had been closer than anyone on the team for almost 5 years. But your heart pools into your stomach, settling itself in your wound. Just for the chance to be cared for by his hands. 
Spencer’s hands, warm and lightly calloused, slide along your ribs as softly as he can manage. His long, slender fingers, guiding a new bandage into place.
You had never considered that Dr. Spencer Reid would ever return your simmering feelings. Sure, he went along with your teasing, let you manhandle him, calmed you down, turned to you for everything, cried on your shoulder, comforted you. But that was just him, right? He was like that with everyone… Right?
No. Spencer was sweet, yes, but you knew. He was different around you, more open, more playful. Everyone on the team knows how you revolve, bound to each other via some inexplicable force. He knows how you like your tea, he knows what snacks you like, he knows the ins and outs of your past relationships. But he knows everything, from the probability of finding a four-leaf clover, to quantum physics. You weren’t special.
But once he’s done securing the bandage just beneath your sternum, he looks up at you. His eyes rounded and shining, their honey-like color looking richer than ever. 
And you feel like the only woman in the universe. 
It’s hard not to feel like you’re completely under his spell when the warm hazel color of his eyes bore into your own. The patterning on his irises were just as enchanting, throwing you into the labyrinth that has held your heart at its center for the past 4 years. 
“How often do you need to change it?” He whispers, suddenly finding himself closer to you, his warm breath wafting over the center of your chest. 
“Just once a day after this.” Is your breathy response. Your hands lift, gently pushing the front pieces of his hair behind his ears, “Your hair is getting long.”
“Should I cut it?” He asks, gaze unwavering. You shake your head no, brushing your fingers through his soft brown waves. The touch is attentive and gentle. The air grows thick with every passing moment, bathing every touch in an intimate nature. 
Spencer’s hands linger at your sides, fingers ghosting along your waist. He looks up at you, his eyes somehow softening further. You almost melt on the spot, your hands finding their place at the nape of his neck. Mindlessly, you press the pads of your thumbs into the space just below his skull. The pressure alleviates some of the tension in his neck, his eyes fluttering closed as you begin to move them in a circular motion.
“You really worry too much…” You murmur, face flushing as you watch his expression melt into contentment. 
“Hard not to when you’re rushing at a sociopath with a gun…” He mumbles in response, looking at you through his eyelashes. “Especially when this bullet was meant for me.” His thumb slides over the bandage, his bottom lip jutting out a little as his eyes round at the edges. 
That damn puppy dog look. You hated it. He used it in any situation where he wasn’t getting his way. He knew it worked on you, probably thinking that you just thought he was too cute to resist. Not quite, as much as you did think it was cute- it was just such a turn-on.
Scoffing, you push away the mounting arousal pooling in your stomach, “Neither of us died, so I call it a win…” his gaze doesn’t waver, clearly seeking to break you, “Stop looking at me like that.” You grumble, placing a hand over his eyes. 
Spencer laughs, reaching up to pull your hand away. His fingers curl around you, sliding against the sensitive skin of your inner wrist. “Like what?”
Rolling your eyes you sigh, “Come on, Handsome, don’t be coy. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
His fingers slide up your wrist, spreading out to flatten your palm. Spencer’s hands are large, enveloping yours easily as he intertwined his fingers with your own. You had spent the last 4 years perfecting the art of hiding the way you feel about Spencer. But it was impossible to hide what he was doing to you here and now.
After years in steady orbit of each other, you were finally spiraling inwards.
He keeps his right hand intertwined with yours, his other hand sliding up your torso slowly. He keeps his eyes trained on your face, watching the miniscule changes in your flushed expression. His fingers slide along the band of your bra. The texture of the lace rubs along the pads on his fingertips. He guides his hand up, breathing shakily as it ghosts over the apex of your chest. You bristle at the contact, your hand gripping his tightly in an attempt to keep your composure. 
The only thing breaking up the silence permeating the room is the uneven breathing shared between you. Spencer takes his time, tracing the outline of your collarbone. He follows the line of it, dipping his index and middle finger into the center crevice of your clavicle. Dragging his fingers up the center of your throat, his short, dull nails lightly scratching the sensitive skin. You let out a strained hum, his fingers feeling the vibration of your vocal chords. His inner thighs press against the outside of your own, reminding you of how exactly you ended up here.
Following the line of your jaw, his knuckles gently tilt your head down. He keeps his eyes locked on you, still giving you that dreaded doe eyed stare. Once his hand reaches your face, he tears his gaze from your eyes, following his fingers as he caresses the soft skin of your cheek.
Turning his hand, Spencer lets his slender fingers flatten against your jaw. His thumb runs along your bottom lip, tracing the warm skin and gently pressing into it. Watching as the color of your lips changes with the light pressure, he finally speaks.
“The reason your heart races, or you feel nervous when you’re in love… is because of the sudden release of hormones. Dopamine, Cortisol, and Norepinephrine spike, but the mood stabilizer, Serotonin, drops.” His thumb gently tugs on your bottom lip.
“Do I make you nervous, Dr. Reid?” You whisper, your lips gently pressing into the pad of his thumb. Reaching up your free hand, you gently slide it under the front of his cardigan. Pressing it into his chest you could feel his heart hammering behind his ribcage.
Spencer nods, his bottom lip fitting between his teeth as he looks up at you. His face is flushed, the heights of his cheekbones radiating heat from the blood pooling beneath his skin. Adjusting in his seat, he pulls his legs towards himself, fitting one of his knees between your legs to spread them apart.
You look at him in surprise, but he dips his gaze to watch what he was doing. He puts his knees together, placing them between your own. Spreading his legs, he hooks them around your calves, forcing you forward. Yelping, you try your hardest not to collapse into him. You manage to get one of your knees onto the mattress before he fully knocks you over. Ignoring the way his gaze lingers on your flushed face, you settle into his lap, knees on either side of his hips.
Spencer could feel the strap of your thigh holster pressing into his leg. He unclasps his hand from yours, sliding it up your knee. He finds the buckles on the two straps digging into the flesh of your thigh. Maintaining eye contact while he unclasps them, you lift yourself off of him so he can take it off easier. He discards it onto the other side of the bed before letting his hand fall back to rest on your thigh. Spencer was constantly searching your face for approval, touching you slow and simple- He always made it a priority to make you comfortable. Mirroring his other hand, the one holding your face slides down the side of your torso to cup your thigh.The pressure of his touch increases, kneading your muscles through your jeans.
Your hands rest on his shoulders, gripping them lightly as he touches you. Growing restless, you reach down to unbutton his cardigan, sliding it off of his shoulders. He assists in taking it off, throwing it haphazardly across the room. His hands return to their places, but he tilts his head a little, his lips parting as his eyes slide across your face. 
Rocking your hips forward pulls a soft moan from his lips, his fingers curling into your thighs. “I- I don’t… think we should do this…” He gasps, contradicting himself as his hands slide up to your hips, pulling you against him again. 
“We don’t have to…” You gasp in response, the stimulation only slightly dulled by the thick material of your jeans. 
“I want to- but, you’re injured.” He mumbles, leaning forward to press his lips against your collarbone.
You shake your head, sighing at the feeling of his warm lips, “You won’t hurt me.” Loosening his tie, you pull it over his head and toss it to the side.
“I could- not on purpose, but strenuous activity should be avoided during recovery.” Spencer argues, his voice weakened by the way your hips slide into his. His breath falls from his lips heavily, fanning your face as you lean in close.
Laughing, you turn your head to press a kiss to his temple, “It doesn’t feel like you want to stop.” You could feel him underneath you, already straining against his slacks. He swallows, his Adam’s apple sliding up and down. The hands on your hips tighten their grip, digging into your flesh. He keeps his eyes on you, leaning forward to press a small kiss to your sternum.
Spencer’s hands knew exactly what to do. Sliding over the apex of your hips, his thumbs pressing firmly into your soft skin. Traveling slowly up, the weight of his palms kneading your sides as the tips of his fingers find the band of your bra. The pressure of his touch lightens as he lifts his palms off of you. His fingers curl slightly, leaving just a few fingertips touching the lacy fabric. 
Reading you like a book, his hands circle around to your back. Finding the clasp, he makes quick work of undoing your bra. He makes no move to fully remove the garment, just flattening his hands against your exposed back. His fingers press into your spine, running along the outsides of it.
You slide the bra off, throwing it over your shoulder to join your shirt and his cardigan on the floor. His eyes leave yours, trailing along your skin, uninterrupted by fabric. One hand stays on your back, the other sliding around your side. The pressure of his touch lightens as he reaches your front, very careful to not disturb your injured ribs. 
His hand flattened on your torso scoops the underside of your breast, his thumb caressing the soft skin. Watching how your body molds to the shape of his hand, his lips part slightly, almost studying you. 
Spencer presses a few more kisses to your sternum, slowly making his way up to your collarbone. Your hips continue to slide against his, pulling soft breathy moans from the both of you. His noises are muffled by your neck as he presses his lips to the center of your throat. It almost hurts how badly you want him, your desire clouding over any possible pain stemming from your ribs.
Moving as quickly and as gently as possible, Spencer twists his body. He slowly lowers your back to the mattress, settling between your legs as he hovers over you. He continued to grind against you, the feeling of him through four layers of clothing was enough to drive you up the wall. 
It dawned on you then how easy this felt.
Just like everything with him, it all came to you like the most natural thing in the universe. The two of you had spent years memorizing everything about each other. You never thought it would translate so well into this situation. Then again, you never thought it was possible for you to end up in this position with him. Your hands find the buttons of his shirt, unfastening them quickly as his mouth finds your throat again. He takes his time exploring the warm skin of your neck, very gently nipping at your pulse. He takes in every noise he draws from you, filing them away in his mind with every roll of his hips. 
Just as easily as the dusk slides into the quiet of night, you turn to putty in his hands.
Trying to focus on getting his shirt off, you’re distracted by the intense way he kisses your neck. You hadn’t really expected Spencer to be so… possessive with his mouth, but in hindsight it made sense to you. 
He was possessive in other ways, always taking the seat next to you on the jet, calling dibs on partnering with you, not letting anyone else help you if he was nearby, getting pouty when your attention was drawn elsewhere. Listening to his heavy breathing as his warm, open mouthed, kisses press into your throat you’re suddenly aware of every way he’s laid his claim on you to the people around you.
To everyone else, you were his.
His hands hold your chest, squeezing and caressing the soft skin. Spencer’s teeth slowly drag along the side of your neck, biting you very gently, careful not to leave any marks where anyone would see. Your breathing comes out heavy and labored, your face scrunching slightly as you feel the strain of your ribs with each breath.
Spencer’s large palms slide down your torso after one last squeeze, finding the hem of your pants. He quickly gets your belt off, letting it clatter to the floor and unbuttoning your jeans. Pulling away from your neck. his eyes meet yours as he hooks his fingers over the hem of your underwear. He shimmies them down the length of your legs along with your pants, tossing them across the room carelessly. Pupils dilated wide, he drinks in the look of you like a starved man. His hand finds its way to your cheek, his eyebrows furrowing slightly at the pained look on your face. His thumb presses against the space between your brows, smoothing out the tension building there as your chest rises and falls heavily.
“Try to relax your breathing,” He whispers, pressing his lips to your cheek. His hand slips away from your face, the soft noise of his silver belt buckle unfastening filling your ears. Attentive kisses are pressed along the perimeter of your face, urging you to try and calm your racing heart. 
The air around you is cold, a stark contrast to the ever growing heat pooling between your legs. His warm chest presses against yours, one hand curling around your knee, the other sliding along your bare inner thigh. 
A soft moan falls from your lips, “You’re not exactly helping,” You whisper, feeling his lips press against your temple.
“It doesn’t feel like you want to stop,” He replies, throwing your words back at you as his fingers slide against your clit teasingly. You writhe underneath him, your hands sliding up to tangle in his hair. Trying your hardest not to move too much as his fingers slowly circle the bundle of nerves. If you move too much and aggravate your ribs, you might have to stop. His slender fingers slide along you, dipping into your entrance briefly before continuing to tease. You whine, lifting your hips to meet his hand as best as you can. 
As much as Spencer wants to keep teasing, his need to please you overwhelms any other desire that may be festering. He pushes his middle finger into you, kissing the corner of your mouth as a guttural moan is pulled from your lips. 
His thumb finds your clit, rubbing soothing circles into it as his finger fucks into you. His face remains pressed into yours, kissing along your cheekbone lovingly. Adding his ring finger, he pushes it into you slowly and allows you to adjust to the difference in size. His long, slender,  fingers slide in and out of you, the ministrations deliberate and slow. 
Despite the slow pace of his hand, the length and size of his fingers provides overwhelming stimulation. You had always loved how large his hands were, spending nights wondering and fantasizing about how they would feel touching you like this. But this was way better than any piss poor scenario you could dream up. 
Your head falls back onto the pillow, mouth hanging open as deep, breathy moans fall from your lips. Hissing a bit, you try to calm your breathing.
“Don’t stop…” You sigh out, knowing he was noticing the way your breathing changes in kind to the pain spreading from your fractured bones. Spencer listens to your request, his fingers curling slightly. The sensation draws out a loud gasp as the tips of his fingers press into you. Your hands move down his neck, sliding along his back. 
Your head swims with intense pleasure, not bothering to care about how badly your ribs hurt with every breath you take. Spencer’s name falls from your mouth like a mantra, eyes closing as you focus on not writhing underneath him. Hands pressing into his shoulder blades you pull him flush against you, feeling his hard length against your inner thigh as he pushes you closer to the edge with his fingers. 
The way he presses into your inner thigh pulls a small noise from the back of his throat. He speeds up the way his fingers fuck into you, rutting against your thigh instinctually to keep the friction going. His thumb presses into your clit, the pressure firmer as he continues to circle around it. The feeling draws out a strained moan from your lips, your hips jerking involuntarily. 
Spencer can feel you starting to fall apart underneath him, his lips pressing firmly into your neck. His soft gasps and moans muffled by your warm skin as he uses your thigh. Tightening around his fingers, your legs shake, and you mumble his name over and over. Biting down on your lip, his free hand slides just under your breast, holding your torso down when he feels your back begin to lift from the bed. Your orgasm crashes over you and the room spins, tremors vibrating through your spine.
You gasp, panting to try and catch your breath. His lips find your face again, smothering your cheeks and nose with affection as you come down from your high slowly. His desperate grinding against your thigh pulls you back to reality and you gently push on his shoulder to get his attention.
“Spencer… I need you…” You whine, your hands cupping his face. Taking his bottom lip between his teeth, he nods. There’s a soft twitch to his face when he pulls his hips away from your thigh, his eyes searching yours for final approval. You nod, adoring the amber color at the center of his irises.
Gripping himself in his hand, he takes a second to slide his tip through your folds, pulling a desperate moan from the both of you. The tenderness left from your last orgasm causes you to whine and throw your head back onto the pillow. 
“Wait…” He gasps, looking up at you, “I- do you have a condom?” 
You can’t help but laugh a little, shaking your head, “I’m on birth control, it’s fine… please.” Your fingers curl and play with the long hair at the nape of his neck. 
He hesitates, seemingly working through the probabilities and statistics of not using one, but he nods. Spencer looks back down, lining himself up with you. One hand on your hip, the other wrapped around himself. 
“Tell me to stop if you need to,” He says, voice shaking with his heavy breathing. You nod, eyes locked on his features. The shadows of his face as he hovers over you are dark, seeping into the dips and curves of his brow and cheek bones. He looked ethereal.
When his tip pushes into you slowly, you gasp. His mouth finds yours, kissing you needily as he works his way inside of you. 
Spencer breathes heavily into your mouth as his fingers dig into the flesh of your outer thighs, “I… I love you.” He declares, his lips moving against yours with fervor.
Your fingers tangle into his hair, his kisses not allowing you to verbally reciprocate. You loved him. There was no doubt about that. But when he’s fully inside of you, filling you completely, there is nothing you can do to stop the way you ignite underneath him.
Moaning into his mouth, your legs shake from your earlier orgasm. He gives you time to slowly adjust, shivers running up and down his spine as your muscles flutter around him. Spencer slows down his kisses, resorting to soft presses as he waits for your signal. 
After a moment you nod, whispering a soft “I love you” and kissing him in return. With your quiet permission, he pulls his hips back. Letting out a strained groan, his lips loosely against yours, he rolls his hips back into you.
The feeling of you wrapped around him completely, your hands in his hair, your mouth against his. There is nothing that can compare to this. Nothing.
Spencer rocks into you slowly, keeping your hips pressed against the mattress. The angle is perfect, and the least likely to aggravate your rib cage. He’s fully in tune with how you feel underneath him, his hands gently sliding over your hips in a soothing motion. Feeling no need to rush, he pulls back from your lips to watch the way he slides in and out of you.
“I… I would beg you to go faster if my ribs didn’t feel like they were on fire.” You hum, your hands brushing over the perimeters of his face. His face scrunches a little and he almost slows to a stop, but you shake your head, “Don’t- don’t stop, please, I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?” He whispers shakily, one of his hands sliding down to press circles into your overly sensitive clit.
A whine falls from your lips at the feeling, “Yes, yes… I’ve never felt so good…” Your muscles flutter around him, the added sensation pulling your thoughts from the deep ache ringing from your torso. His lips meet yours again, one of his palms cupping the back of your hand. Pressing your hand firmly into his cheek, his mouth moves against yours in slow, loving motions. The amount of tongue he used was a pleasant surprise, his kisses never seeming to still. 
Keeping up his languid pace, Spencer memorizes the way you feel- which isn’t hard with his memory, but he files away every moan, every flutter of your core, every lingering kiss. It was all so perfect. 
The remnants of your first orgasm buzzes in your core, your entire body felt like it was on fire. You could feel yourself reaching the edge, your kisses getting sloppier and his name falling from your lips in quick succession. His hips roll deep into you, making up for the slow pace with the thumb rubbing evenly over your clit. 
His shoulders tense, the kiss between you breaking into just a sequence of heavy breaths against your lips. Hips twitching, the feeling of you around him almost unbearable as the pleasure causes his head to swim. All of the facts and knowledge constantly swimming through his mind fall silent, replaced with your soft whines and the feeling of your soft skin under his palms. 
“Spencer… god, please- come for me…” You murmur against his lips, your hands moving into his hair and sliding down the back of his neck. Your nails lightly scrape along his sensitive skin, coaxing him over the edge. It’s all he can do to keep his slow pace, lifting his face away from yours to look down at you. Your eyes are slightly glassed over, looking up at him with a pleading gaze. The eye-contact is the final push he needed, his fingers circling around your clit quickly. 
You gasp at the change in pace- the feeling of him inside of you, the length of him brushing against your sweet spot, his sweet gaze on your face all cause your muscles to contract as your second orgasm crashes over you. Spencer follows quickly behind you, groaning loudly as his hips stutter and he pushes himself into you as deep as he can. His release coats your insides, the added sensation pushing you even farther. Mouth falling open, his moans spike to a slightly higher pitch as he slowly rides out his own orgasm. 
Heavy gasps fall from your lips as the two of you come down from your high. Spencer’s lips press against yours sloppily, his hands reaching up to hold your face firmly. He pulls out of you slowly, listening to the soft whine that falls from your lips.
Overly sensitive from the two back to back orgasms, your head swims. Spencer attempts to pull away from you more, but your hands loosely capture his wrists and pull him back. Lips meeting again in a lazy fashion, your mind is in a daze, “I love you…” is softly mumbled into his mouth, your hands holding his to your face. 
“I love you too… How do your ribs feel?” He asks, kissing up the bridge of your nose.
You sigh into his affection, your thumbs rubbing the outside of his hands, “I feel great… it’s like a forgotten bruise.” Your lips pull into a sloppy grin.
“That’s because pain can be reduced by orgasms,” Is his response, pulling a soft laugh from you, “Potent analgesics, which are basically pain killers, are released in the endorphins during sex.”
“Maybe we should do this until my ribs are healed,” You hum, pressing a few soft kisses to his cheek.
Spencer laughs a little, shaking his head, “Let me get you cleaned up.”
He attempts to pull away again but you keep his hands held in your grip. You were still exhausted, your hold loose. Spencer could easily wriggle away, but he humors you with a few more kisses.
“Stay… I want you to stay.” You whine, tilting your head and kissing the corners of his mouth. “Please?” 
Spencer nods, moving to settle next to you. Being mindful of your injury, he wraps an arm around your shoulders. Scooting closer and  pressing his chest against your arm, he kisses your temple sweetly. The gravity of your connection holds your cores together in the wake of your collision.
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babyleostuff · 23 hours
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calling them your boyfriend when you’re married | ot13
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[ ☁️] when you call them your husband version
warnings: generally gn!reader, but mention of "wife" and "girlfriend" with minghao
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𝜗𝜚 choi seungcheol
just… don’t do this. he would get offended as hell, probably would give you a whole ass silent treatment, being extra pissy and mean, like - HE’S YOUR HUSBAND, HE DIDN’T MARRY YOU FOR YOU TO GO AROUND AND CALL HIM YOUR BOYFRIEND!!! i mean, he kind of gets it that you said it as a joke to tease him, but it doesn’t make it any funnier for cheol, he’s like a lil puppy anytime you call him your husband, so don’t use the b-word around him, please. you’d really have to give him lots and lots of kisses and pouts for him to forgive you.
𝜗𝜚 yoon jeonghan
for some reason turns into a mum, and scolds you? “yah, i’m not your boyfriend anymore, why are you calling me that?” like, jeonghan would give you a whole ass lecture on why he does not want to be called “boyfriend”, and why you should only use the term “husband". he’d be extra petty too, if you asked him to help you with something he’d be like: “oh, so now you need your boyfriend’s help, hm?” and he would not let this go quickly, he’d make your life extra harder that day because he. is. not. your. boyfriend.
𝜗𝜚 joshua hong
takes this very personally because he's the epitome of husband material, and he didn’t marry you to be called “boyfriend” again??? he’d turn his sassy shua mode on, and become a whole ass drama queen because he does not want to be called the b-word - he’s literally right there, in his husband glory, ring on his ring finger with your wedding date engraved underneath, so why is he being called “boyfriend”, hm? so don’t expect shua to be all lovey dovey for the day, he’ll need some pampering to forgive you for the outrageous act of calling him your boyfriend.
𝜗𝜚 wen junhui
pookie is sad, don’t calm him “boyfriend”, please? jun wouldn’t be overly emotional over not being called “husband” a few times, it’s not like it would be the end of the world, but at the same time whenever you call him your boyfriend he feels a weak pang in his chest, almost as if his body physically reacts to the lack of “husband”. he would stare at you trying to convey his dear request of: “baby, i’m your husband, remember??? please call me husband???” the word husband coming form you is just very reassuring, and it makes him feel very loved. 
𝜗𝜚 kwon soonyoung
so so offended, WHAT DO YOU MEAN BOYFRIEND??? OH YEAH, SO THE RING ON YOUR FINGER IS WHAT??? JUST AN ACCESSORY??? AND THE WEDDING WAS JUST FOR FUN??? does not take the whole “boyfriend” calling lightly, being a husband is very serious for soonyoung AND HE WILL NOT TOLERATE THE B-WORD. Why would you even think of calling him your boyfriend, like we went from “boyfriend” to “fiance” to “husband” for a reason, SO LET’S NOT FORGET HOSHI’S YOUR HUBBY NOW!!!
𝜗𝜚 jeon wonwoo
at first he’s really taken aback because what do you mean “boyfriend”, you always refer to him as your husband ever since you got married (because duh - you’re married). would just kind of stare at you in confusion with question marks above his head, trying to figure out if you were actually talking about him, and why the hell you just called him your boyfriend. didn’t realise until a bit later how hurt ? he felt when he figured you were seriously talking about him, which was so weird because he used to love when you called him your boyfriend in the past, so what changed? (marriage happened you simp, he just adores it when you call him your husband).
𝜗𝜚 lee jihoon
would just roll his eyes, because he’s not the one to fall for your jokes. he knows that there is no way you’d call him anything but your husband if it wasn’t for a prank, so you wouldn’t get a big reaction out of jihoon. would just give you head pats and nod his head saying “whatever you want baby”. BUT, deep inside he’s crying. being your husband is one of woozi's biggest blessings, so hearing the word “boyfriend” when you are in fact married is a bit of a no no.
𝜗𝜚 lee seokmin
don’t call him boyfriend??? don’t break his heart??? why would you do this??? would immediately assume you’re unhappy in your marriage because why is he suddenly reduced to “boyfriend”? seokmin would stare at you with big (and sad) puppy eyes until you wouldn’t have explained why you used the forbidden b-word, because there is no way he would move on from that without hearing a proper explanation (and a proper apology). he just really really loves being your husband and being called “husband” - there’s just something magical about it, he loves hearing that word from you.
𝜗𝜚 kim mingyu
at first he wouldn’t pay much attention, because he’s not “boyfriend” anymore - he’s “husband” *cue in a proud mingoo smile*, so he thinks you’re talking about someone else? but then… WHO ARE YOU CALLING BOYFRIEND??? turns into a sulky and whiny mess, because “babyyyy, i’m your husband remember?” would follow you around and just whine, oh my god, it’d be so annoying you’d immediately regret calling him anything except “my dearest, loveliest, most precious husband” because how can a grown man sulk like that? over something you said as a joke. he would go on a whole ass rant about your engagement and the wedding to make a point i guess? as if he was trying to remind you that you’re in fact married.
𝜗𝜚 xu minghao
okay, then no more “wife” for you. would make sure to go around and tell everyone about his “girlfriend”, loud enough for you to hear. hao treasures his “husband” status very dearly, so when you suddenly start calling him your boyfriend he’s having none of that, thus will tease you right back, because he knows how you always go low-key crazy over him calling you his wife. your hubby is just so so petty he won’t forget this one quickly, and he’d want you to beg for him to stop, because as much as he wants to tease you back it truly breaks his hear hearing the b-word from you.
𝜗𝜚 boo seungkwan
would throw a tantrum because he’s dramatic like that. he takes his role as your husband very seriously, so you calling him “boyfriend”? not happening. the second seungkwan hears the b-word that he used to love so much (now he hates it because HE’S YOUR HUSBAND) he gives you the silent treatment in the pettiest way possible, which is funny because his clingy nature doesn not allow for him to ignore people, especially not you. and when he sees you struggling with unscrewing the cap from the water bottle he literally has to walk out of the room and lock himself in the bathroom so he wouldn’t walk up to you and help you. 
𝜗𝜚 vernon chwe
it’s not that he doesn’t care, because he does, but at the same time he’s fairly fine with anything you call him as long as you put “mine (insert name)” before it. of course he loves it when you refer to him as your husband, but he wouldn’t throw a tantrum just because you called him “boyfriend” once or twice. as i said, as long as you call him “yours” it’s all good (it makes him shy as hell, and him blushing is guaranteed, but it’s such a nice, silent way of saying how much you love him).
𝜗𝜚 lee chan
sad, sad, sad. don’t break his heart like that - “what do you mean boyfriend?” he wouldn’t outwardly mention how sad he got over you calling him your boyfriend instead of husband, but ohmygod it’d be so visible, chan would look like a puppy who was just denied a treat, it’d be so so adorable if not for the heartbreaking pout. there’s just something about you calling him your husband, and hearing those words coming from your mouth that always make him so happy that suddenly hearing “boyfriend” would be so upsetting.
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taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity @gyuguys @raginghellfire @treehouse-mouse @waldau @wonootnoot @hellodefthings @dokyeomkyeom @sourkimchi @bbysnw @hoichi02 @aaa-sia @haneulparadx @minvrsev @zozojella @wonootnoot @kimingyuslover @wntrei @honglynights @jihoonsbbygirl @uhdrienne @bloodcanbehot 
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luviestarz · 2 days
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mark lee fic recs!
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⪩⪨ Operation: First Kiss - @ncityrave (Mark turns to his friends for help to build up the courage for his relationship's first kiss.)
⪩⪨ Sunday Kind of Love : Frat Mark - @smileysuh (Mark is fine with having a crush on the girl in the library. He’s fine watching her from afar. And he’s fine with never speaking a word to the girl who he spends many nights chasing in his dreams. But fate, and a few nosey frat brothers, think Mark would be much better if he was forced to talk to the cute girl from the library that he can’t seem to get out of his head.)
⪩⪨ tis the damn season - mark smau - @najaemism (in which your ex-boyfriend comes back to your hometown—and he wants to talk to you.)
⪩⪨ Delphinium - @ncteez (It wasn’t intentional. You don’t even know why you cared that he didn’t believe in pre-marital sex, but it didn’t stop you from arguing with him about it. You didn’t intend to win the argument either. Then again, he kind of let you.)
⪩⪨ 9:10 PM - @neochan (possessive! mark)
⪩⪨ WITH YOU | MK.L - @sehunniepotwrites (There are many things Mark Lee wants to do with you. He wants to walk you home. He wants to dive into the deep blue sea with you. He wants to go on a drive with you at his side. But mostly, this crazy, head over heels in love boy just wants to make it with you.)
⪩⪨ spidey boy ; 이민형 - @martiniblues (mark has tried to hide his secret identity from you for as long as possible, to keep you safe, of course. little does he know that you’ve untangled his web of lies long ago and will do anything in your power to get him to admit it. just when you've had enough of him lying to you, he ends up getting caught in the act trying to save your life.)
⪩⪨ eyes on me. (m.l) - @mrkis (mark wants you to keep your eyes on him as he pleases you.)
⪩⪨ GOLDEN HOUR. | L.MK - @onyourhyuck (You’re a waiter and Mark Lee the local biker and infamous bad boy loves the eggs your diner makes, but now he wants a taste of you.)
⪩⪨ madly in love - mark lee - @p0ckykiss (mark had always been the hopeless romantic type)
⪩⪨ it’s too bad you’re married to me | m.l - @yojeongin (all mark ever does is use weaponized incompetence to get out of small tasks you ask of him. when he finally realizes you resort to his close friends to do what he can’t— nothing can prepare him for what’s in your pandora box; now karma is set in motion.)
⪩⪨ Pretty Boy. (m.l) - @ncteez (Mark’s favorite thing to do is sit alone at the library and enjoy the knowledge that his university offers. In contrast, your favorite thing to do is go to parties and enjoy as much chaos as possible. However, upon realizing your grades have dropped drastically due to this lifestyle, you have no choice but to approach Mark for help. or the one where your new favorite thing to do is seduce the most inexperienced man you’ve ever met and watch how desperate he gets for you.)
⪩⪨ gelato | lmk - @hazyhae (a high slip up cost you mark lee years ago, and you’ve spent years burying your memories of him ever since. the universe has other plans for you when your old friend starts a new career, smoking his way back into your life.)
⪩⪨ ꒰ 𝐍𝐎 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ꒱ 이민형 - @loserlvrss (one thing about your boyfriend, mark, is that he would always take care of you — even if you were annoyingly drunk — and he was embarrassingly in love)
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algae-tm · 2 days
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WE CAN’T BE FRIENDS
Oscar Piastri x Reader
Author’s Note: there’s a lot going on in this fic and I should’ve probs split it into two so I could do the storyline justice, but I’m nothing if not slightly lazy so that never would’ve worked. If you notice any mistakes please do let me know! Rn it’s 2 am and my visions blurred so I’m gunna post and hope for the best
I’m actually gunna recommend songs for this fic!!tbh just listen to Willow’s entire discography (apart from that one song with MGK) and if you want to give unholy a listen it is by Hey Violet (though I don’t know if I like the song or not, but it says what I needed the fic to say) and of course All I Wanted Was You is paramore! I hope you enjoy
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
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MESSAGES (OSCAR AND Y/N)
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INSTAGRAM
youruser just posted
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liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 3,456,789 others
youruser: thank y’all for the love on unholy, the last slide is how I feel now that I’ve been let out the house!! Hot gal y/n is back!
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user1: OH WE ARE SO BACK!
user4: IS RHIS CONFIRMATION ?? IS THIS CONFIRMATION?? IS THIS BREAK UP CONFIRMATION
— youruser: girl, if the song wasn’t confirmation enough idk what is
sza: welcome back y/n the streets have been waiting for your return
— youruser: tell the streets I’ll get back to them, I have other plans
— oscarpiastri: 👀 👀
— youruser: gtfo
— landonorris: trouble in paradise?
user32: who’s the song about???
— landonorris: yeah y/n who’s the song about??? 🤨🤨
— youruser: I will block you norizz
— landonorris: oh shiver me timbers
oscarpiastri: amazing song y/n! So proud to call you my best friend
— user22: bro 😭 😭
— user32: either brother doesn’t like her at all or he just has no rizz
— user44: god the friendzone must hurt extra hard after she just released that song about you.
MESSAGES
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TWITTER
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MESSAGES
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TWITTER
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INSTAGRAM
youruser posted a photo
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liked by lewishamilton, oscarpiastri, jonbatiste and 5,327,439 others
youruser: thank you all so much for all the love over the last month! I’m so glad you not only watched Queen Charlotte but that you loved it! As you all probably know I haven’t released much art in the last three years, but I never stopped making and art is forever. I’m now just so glad I can now share it with all of you. My new album empathogen is out now on all streaming platforms. Some familiar tracks on there, some not so familiar. Hope you guys enjoy!
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lewishamilton: 👏🏿👏🏿
— youruser: 🖤🖤
user10: can’t believe unholy isn’t on the album???
— user11: I mean I kinda can… all the other songs have much deeper meanings and the sounds are so much more complex…
— user13: that’s what I was thinking, unholy is giving forever 21 changing room, whilst the album is like, masterpiece level shit
—user17: thank god I’ve been arguing with people on twtr all morning about this,
— user32: it’s never that deep…
oscarpiastri: I’m in awe of what your mind can create 🧡
— youruser: couldn’t do it without my forever muse
— user21: 🤨🤨🤨🤨
— user32: y’all are we seeing this??
— user45: WHAT IS HAPPENING IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS????
— user67: lord help me I’m about to read too much into an interaction on the internet. But him adding a heart. Her not adding a heart. I’m drawing conclusions
— user76: please stop drawing conclusions 😭
jonbatiste: so much talent for someone so young, keep flourishing y/n
— youruser: thank you Jon for all your help 🖤
MESSAGES (OSCAR AND Y/N)
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INSTAGRAM
youruser just posted
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liked by landonorris, logansargeant and 8,234,567 others
youruser: I bagged myself an f1 driver y’all! I hear they’re in high demand good thing I got you, was scared I’d have to settle for Lando Norris.
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oscarpiastri: this is not the caption we agreed on…
— youruser: oopsie daisy… I’m just a girl?
— oscarpiastri: MY girl
— youruser: 🤤🤤 say it again
landonorris: now why am I in this??
— youruser: you saying you wouldn’t like to date me?? 🤨😔😟🙁☹️
— landonorris: What no I’m sure you’d be a joy to date
— oscarpiastri: hey watch yourself Lando that’s my girlfriend
— landonorris: I mean of course I would never date her
— youruser: ☹️☹️
— oscarpiastri: so you’re saying there’s something wrong with my girl Norris? Why wouldn’t you like to date her
— landonorris: I’m so confused
oscarpiastri just posted
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liked by logansargeant, alex_albon and 1,237,789 others
oscarpiastri: making up for lost time, at least we have til the end of it
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user32: oh… his caption just called me single in 45 different languages
— user21: the difference between his and y/n’s captions is what had me cackling
youruser: can’t wait to spend eternity with you,
— oscarpiastri: unbelievably in love with you
— alex_albon: 🤮 gross
— youruser: @lilymhe come get your man
— lilymhe: @alex_albon why is showing affection gross albon? 🤨🤨🤨
logansargeant: I’m taking credit for this
— landonorris: hey now it was a team effort
— alex_albon: this is me erasure
— youruser: thank you all 🫶🏿 you could’ve done it like 4 years earlier but still thank you!
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
TAGLIST
@forevercaffeinated-lee
@callsignwidow
@a-beaverhausen
@emryb
@c0deincrazy
@dontworryaboutitokie
@c-losur3
@chuxk-lerclerk
@silkenthusiasts
@ietss
@sp1rl
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monzamash · 3 days
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lando norris x you rating – mature (sex, coarse language) blurb for monzamusings ✨
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“honey, you need to be quiet.”
lando’s head nearly spun off his shoulders at your stern warning, quickly catching his pouty bottom lip between his front teeth, “no no no…” he whined with burning forearms and a sheen of sweat covering his brow.
you don’t know how you ended up in the study of daniel riccardo’s la mansion, riding the man you swore was only a hook-up, on what looked like a stupidly expensive vintage leather lounge. presumably imported from italy, hiding generations of history and secrets – your sinful act now forever stitched into the frayed seams.
or maybe it was the way he stepped into the dimly-lit backyard with that handsome fucking face and a backwards cap; the loosely buttoned down shirt didn't hurt either, showing off prime real estate on his chest you so desperately wanted to mark. his hazel eyes scanned the room before he found yours staring back.
it didn't take long for him to end up by your side and temporarily ease the tension only the two of you could feel. the familiar hand sliding down your back had you tingling, chills cascading down your exposed back while his warm fingertips barely brushed over your hip. he pressed a friendly kiss to your cheek, said hello and it was pathetic, really, the way you curled into his touch, aching already.
"good to see you."
"and you. congrats on the win."
"thank you."
short, to the point. no funny business, just two people having a conversation and telepathically undressing each other.
totally under control.
but really when you zeroed in on the details, the most likely reason for your spontaneous fuck in daniel's study was undoubtedly his teasing lips hovering beside your ear, warm breath tickling your delicate skin as he whispered, “thought of you a lot after the win back in my hotel room.”
there was something innately wicked about lando norris and how quickly he could have you tied in knots behind closed doors, quivering into his calloused fingertips. and with anyone else, you’d be mortified by how quickly you came, arched into his heaving chest while his lips floated beside your ear, spurring you on. but you were both equally hooked on each other, fucked beyond the "casual" label.
“ah baby you feel so good.” lando whimpered through gritted teeth as you fished his cock out of his tight briefs, slid him in with a soft hum and took control. he clawed at your delicious hips rolling over him, again and again, sending him into another dimension entirely.
he looked almost angelic with his ocean eyes clamped shut, eyelashes fluttering over his freckled cheeks as every surge of pleasure twitched at his knitted brows. you knew he was nearing the end of his tether when his pink lips slightly parted and nostrils flared; the deep grumble of pleasure changing from rough and calculated to soft, high pitched whimpers. it was his tell and you’d loved it from the second you heard it – it was desperate, almost adolescent but god it made you shudder with pleasure every time without fail.
“close, honey?”
“uh-huh,” he panted, eyes shut and death gripping your shaking thighs.
“want you to come inside me.”
“uh-huh. yep. god, yes please.” oh, he was detonating.
“feel so full, lan – let me take it,” you coaxed and ran your fingertips along the intricate muscles dancing under the skin of his tensed neck, admiring until his jaw slacked open. maybe you were a bit hasty to cover his mouth with your firm hand, gasping when you met a set of wide, shocked eyes looking up at you.
“baby i’m so sorry.” you pouted but held the pace you knew he needed to get off and he nodded in time with the steamy whimpers he was muffling into palm of your hand.
“you’re so good to me.” he managed to mumble before his strong arm slipped around your waist to hold you down, bottoming out in your slick, tight cunt as he shakily bucked through the blinding white light.
lando frantically hummed praise and adoration in a voice an octave higher than yours as he painted your insides, nipping every inch on your damp neck as he floated down from the clouds, dazed smile etched into that look you knew all too well.
“they won't miss us for another five.”
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a//n – y'all bamboozled me right at the end with the poll and i'd already finished writing this one but needy friends to lovers lando will be out soon i promise x
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Yandere Creepy Bunny Hybrid
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After a criminal conviction, the claimed hybrid shelter responsible for sourcing most of the beloved species of hybrid is set to shut down
It’s employees pleading with the public to take in their hybrids who’d be otherwise left on the street
Enough for your parents, who you’ve come to live with, to worry
While they were undecided about the morality of owning hybrids
Humanoids with some animal features
They were determined to be helpful 
whether they truly felt such justice or enjoyed the good samaritan role they’d take in a low-maintenance hybrid
A White rabbit with crimson eyes 
In your opinion one of the more beloved species that would’ve found a home somehow but you couldn’t complain
“Welcome Hori! We hope you can find a home with us!”
“Yeah make yourself at home. Don’t mind our kids they’ll be happy to explain anything you need.”
“I appreciate it.”
“Come come I have to show you all the cool things I have!”
Your family takes to him like metals to magnets 
Hovering near him and waiting on him like he’s the greatest thing since sliced bread
But he’s just so incredibly…quiet
Not just because he doesn’t speak unless spoken to 
But because he just doesn’t move
You’ve peaked at him sitting in the living room on a chair with no book, no TV on, windows closed, no music playing
What kind of bunny sits in the dark and does nothing
His large red eyes are huge, his ears incredibly long and upright
Skin  so pale, he could pass as the undead
Hori won’t even eat like other bunny hybrids
When your parents first gushed over his photo too many evenings were spent looking up what a bunny hybrid would need
Vegetables, fruits, bunny-hybrid pellets were what they filled the cabinets and fridge with
But he ate none of that 
Barely nibbling when your brother excitedly presented the spread
“This looks…good.”
Barely a quarter of the plate was gone
Before he claimed he was stuffed
The second your family slipped up though and handed him a plate full of steak 
he left nothing on the plate
“I thought bunnies weren’t omnivores?”
“...Maybe the original animal doesn’t but I am a hybrid. Things are…different.”
“Yeah (Y/n), things are different! Stop bullying Hori!”
It oddly feels like Hori is not all he seems 
Constantly seeking out hotdogs over the fruit you offer
Or spending unusual amounts of time staring at the passing neighbors
Or coming home at unspeakably late hours
But every time you tried to bring this up your family would scorn you
Writing off your observations as you being nitpicky
Or even jealous of the newest member of the family
“Just know (Y/n) you still hold a special place in our hearts.”
“Yeah no need to whine, we won’t forget you.”
“Just don’t take it out on Hori he’s been through so much.”
So you settle to avoid him
Just let him be in his parts of the house and you in yours 
But that doesn’t seem to work with his edition
“(Y/n)...will you accompany me on the grocery run?”
“I thought my older sib was taking you?”
“Originally…but I’d like for you to take me!”
“Uh…”
“Come on (Y/n)! Take this time to bond with Hori! Maybe you’ll find something’s in common between you two.”
It’s annoying that he insists on doing things with you
But it’s just some things
And of course, because he’s so creepily quiet it almost feels like you’re by yourself
It just gets worse
“I want to sleep with you, (Y/n).”
It was way past midnight and Hori was above you 
Caging you between his arms as he practically laid above you 
There was blood around his mouth and if you had the space you’d check over you body for a wound
“W-wh-what?!”
“Hori? (Y/n)? Please?!”
“T-t-that’s not even a real sentence! Please get off me!”
Once he does reluctantly give you space
You flick on a lamp or use your phone’s light to light the room
Hori’s hair is much longer, flowing past his tail 
Which was no longer a small puff ball now bloomed into something larger
His ears were incredibly long and twitching as though it was filled with joints of its own
His teeth seemed like they had no end, just rows and rows of spiny teeth all coated with the gunk and gooey mess of a carnivore’s meal
“All that blood?!”
He licks an abnormally long tongue around his mouth
“The left-of-overs from dinner.”
“Dinner was hours ago!”
“Not your dinner my dinner.”
The implication made your stomach twist
“Uh was it good?”
“Very. Now, sleep with you?”
You hoped he’d forget but if only to get some semblance of control and maybe be able to fall back asleep 
You relent
“Fine, but I’m not going to share my blanket…you’re a lot bigger than before.”
“It's okay those covers are not the heat I am after.”
You decided not to comment on it, wrapping yourself in your comforter
Letting Hori’s much larger limbs wrap around you tightly
This creepy bunny continued to surprise you
You could only hope that you’d figure him out soon 
Or your family might be the one to pay the price
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sweetfushi · 2 days
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Hi please could I get headcanons for gojo, geto and nanami for when they’re feeling jealous/insecure in their relationship🥹I love how you write the jjk men💗
COMFORTING THEM WHEN THEY'RE FEELING INSECURE
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angst, hurt/comfort | satoru gojo, suguru geto, kento nanami x reader, feelings of unworthiness, questioning one's life, depression, feeling like you will leave them someday, jealousy, age insecurity, age gap between you and nanami | word count. 1.5k ◦ notes. oh myy don't make me blush nonnie, i hope you enjoy <3
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SATORU GOJO.
To say you have your eye on Satoru was an understatement, and not in the “I know you’re up to something” way. Rather, because you know he’s dealing with something you can’t exactly place your finger on. You can only tell this because he’s been quiet this whole day, wandering around the house like it’s his first time here and doesn’t know where anything is. Multiple times have you had to grab his arm to stop him from bumping into something - you can’t snap him out of the daze he’s in and it’s concerning you.
“‘Toru, what’s wrong?” You finally ask him, grabbing his arms to steady him in front of you despite his much taller frame. If anything, you usually grab onto him to steady yourself.
His blue eyes are clouded, his gaze on you yet uncertain. The only sound you hear is the sound of him swallowing thickly and the gusts of wind rushing through the living room window.
“Do you like being with me? Do you like being around me?” He asks, that dazed look still swarming his eyes.
You practically sputter at the sudden questioning. “Of course, I wouldn’t change it for the world. I love being with and around you, Satoru,” you confirm, brow furrowing. “What makes you ask?”
He gulps again and takes a seat on the couch to catch himself before his legs give out from both anxiety and exhaustion. He felt like he hadn’t slept or eaten properly in days. “What… what do you love about me?”
Something inside of you breaks at the tone of his voice. The question itself was heart-breaking, let alone the dejected expression he held when asking it.
“Oh honey,” you coo as you take a seat beside him, running a hand through his hair. “I love everything about you. Your laugh, your smile, your eyes. Hell, even the way you annoy me. I love it all. I love you, Satoru.”
He stares down at his lap for a moment, head hanging low and eyes relaxed. He looks like he’s on the brink of collapsing but the fact that you can’t place why he looks like that frustrates you. You’re not even sure whether frustration is what you’re feeling right now, but you were the last person to be concerned with.
Satoru doesn’t smile, but you see him relax slightly after a period of silence between you. He inhales deeply and shuffles over to lay in your lap, his body evidently trembling. The only viable option at the moment seems to be caressing him and playing with his hair.
Even when you hear his quiet sobs and feel his tears dampen your leg.
SUGURU GETO.
It’s not foreign for you to witness Geto express some form of his depression. Whether it was about himself or someone else, it wasn’t a covert aspect of your relationship. You always comfort him, whether you yourself were going through hardship or not.
Despite this, you had never felt the degree of disturbance you felt now as you looked at him. Geto’s hair traces down his shoulders and appears to obstruct your view of his sunken eyes. He can’t remember the last time he got a good night’s sleep; most nights he spent tossing and turning, admiring your slumbering form as he contemplated his worth.
“Suguru?” You start, voice almost dying in your throat. “What’s wrong?”
Suguru raises his head slightly to flash you a tired smile and greets you quietly. “Nothing at all, dove. Just tired is all,” he sighs heavily, feeling the couch dip as you sit beside him.
“I don’t look like this,” you brush his hair out his face, “when I’m tired.”
He huffs, slightly amused. “I don’t see how exhaustion could diminish your beauty,” is all he says as he finally leans back into the couch and observes you. You tend to cower under his generally seductive gaze, but there was nothing seductive in the way his dark eyes found their last grips of strength in your beauty. It was painful to see.
“You don’t need to worry yourself,” he tells you matter-of-factly, as if it’s a habit for you to neglect him when he’s feeling this way.
Thus, you shake your head in response and place a hand on his arm. At that, you feel him tense up. “You trust me, right?” He nods his head. “So tell me what’s wrong. We’ll work through it together, as we always do,” you promise.
Suguru inhales deeply before speaking. “I feel undeserving of all that you give me. Even,” he almost chokes on his own breath, but catches himself, “when you tell me you love me, I don’t feel like I’m worthy of being subject to your love.”
In times like this, you rarely have the words or articulacy to verbalise what you feel in response to him. That’s why you frequently resort to physical affections, such as touching or holding him. Which is why you decide that pulling him closer to you and into your embrace is the best to satiate the situation.
When you do so, Suguru has difficulty composing himself. The pieces he had been holding so tightly and so closely fell through the gaps between his fingers and lay into your hands, awaiting your resolution to his despondency. Only you had the ability to fix what Suguru so frequently destroyed with his self-deprecation.
You feel the shaky intake of his breaths and start to rub up and down his back in an attempt to soothe him, but you’re not necessarily surprised when you feel his tears stain your shirt and trail onto your shoulder.
The only reason you don’t find yourself desperate to calm his tears is because you know that beyond your vision, as he returns your embrace, Suguru is smiling as the first piece of himself is fixed.
KENTO NANAMI.
“You’ve been acting more jealous recently,” you point out to him, hoping it’s not functioning as stepping on a landmine - though you’ve never had communicative problems with Nanami. 
He remains silent as he cleans his glasses, only offering a hum in response until he puts his glasses back on again and turns to you. You can’t detect what his expression is trying to communicate to you, so you wait for him to verbalise it.
“I have?” He asks softly. When you simply nod at him, he reflects on himself for a moment. He’s never felt like his anxiety affected the way he conducted himself around others, especially around you. When he’s in your presence, he hardly ever finds himself struggling with negative mentalities. But, you had noticed his slight outbursts recently.
He was more touchy in public, especially when sighting someone looking at you. He would request that you’d reserve isolated tables in restaurants. He would check his watch often and fiddle with his glasses or his tie. When you had first asked him about it, he’d just placed his hand on yours and smiled, telling you to not worry yourself about him.
“Have I done something to upset you?” You question, to which he simply replies no.
So, you feel obligated to ask. “Are you cheating on me?”
He whips his head to look at you incredulously, raising a brow. “Is that the man you take me for?” He chuckles slightly, a small rumble in his chest that dies as quick as it sounds.
You shrug and sit opposite him at the kitchen table. “Precautionary questioning. But really, what’s going on? Is it something I can help with?”
Nanami stares at you for a moment and already feels the tension in his body ease. “Does it ever bother you that you’re with an older man?”
Now you’re the one to stare at him incredulously. “It’s never been a bother, it isn’t now. What makes you ask?” You catch sight of the way his leg bounces under the table but don’t point it out.
“You never desire to be with men your age? You’d probably have more time to explore yourself with them–”
“Hey, that’s enough. None of this individuality and “explore yourself” crap,” you furrow your brow. “I’ve found more parts of myself during our relationship than with any other guy or friend, even. Don’t let your age convince you that you’re a liability or burden of any sort. Age is not something you can control, your approach to how you let it define you is something you can.”
As you practically scold him, Nanami stares at you, observing your every expression with a delightful warmth in his chest.
“If I wanted to be with the idiots that are men my age, I would’ve gone searching and landed myself in a miserable relationship. Guess why I haven’t left you,” you raise a brow, looking at him pointedly. “Because you are the one I want. Regardless of age or anything of that matter.”
You let yourself fall silent as he continues to observe you. At some point, you grow uncomfortable at the lack of response but don’t pressure him. But, you hear him exhale almost in relief, which is when you meet his gaze as he starts to reply.
“I think I’ve fallen in love with you even more.”
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sweetfushi © do not modify, repost, translate, copy or use my post in any way. all that is included in this post, aside from the fictional characters and universes, belong to sweetfushi (zee).
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y0urm4m · 2 days
Text
!Needy / clingy Matt!
Head cannons
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A/N: I’ll be honest these have been rotting in my drafts for a while I just made them look cute and edited them. Also in most of these I’d personally say Matt is portrayed as a sub!
< nsfw || if you don’t like it just scroll >
(Nickname use ‘baby’ I think like once or twice and smut ahead!)
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1. ✮ ‘clingy Matt! when your on a call with a friend’ -
“No I’m free tonight.” I mumble into my phone. Matt friend wrapping his arms around my waist, his hips gently rocking against thigh as he looks up at me. “I’ll call you back later,” I sigh ending the phone.
“Such a clingy boy.” I murmur down to Matt, he let out a soft whimper as he rocked his hips against my thigh even faster.
“D..don’t want you to go out tonight.” He mumbled against my chest. More moans and whimpers spilling from his soft, lips as his pre-cum leaked through his pj pants.
The rest of the day consisted with Matt begging me to stay home, I eventually gave in and stayed home. Matt’s hands never leaving my body as he clung onto me like his life depended on it.
2. ✮ ‘needy Matt! when you’re trying to work online but he wants you to touch him’ -
“Matt I’m trying to work.” I say softly as I continue to concentrate on my computer, the sound of the keyboard clicking filling my ears.
He shuffled in his seat, trying to soothe his bulging erection which was being strained by his jeans. “Please touch me, ‘need you so badly.” He whined, trying to convert my attention to him. “I need to finish this by tonight, m’sorry.” I say apologetically as I continue typing on the computer.
He slowly moved even closer towards me. “Please I need you so bad, you can work again after. I promise I’ll leave you alone.” He said pleadingly.
I sighed before spinning my chair around to face him. “Pull your jeans down.” I ordered, tapping his thigh. Matt’s eyes lit up as he instinctively unzipped his jeans, pulling his boxers down as well.
I slowly pumped his rock hard dick, before swirling my tongue lazily around his leaky tip.
His lips parted as incoherent words left his lips, his hands rested on the back of my head as he slowly threaded them through my hair.
“Your mouth feels so good around me,” he whimpered as he neared the edge of his release already.
I picked up the pace, bobbing my head up and down his length as my manicured nails raked up his thighs.
“Thank you so much.” He moaned, throwing his head back as he finally got the sexual relief he longed for.
I smiled softly, swallowing his load as I spun my chair back around and immediately returned to my online work.
3. ✮ ‘clingy! Matt when you guys are watching a film.’
Me and Matt where sat on the couch watching a movie he had desperately begged me to watch.
Well I was watching the movie, Matt was currently begging me to cuddle with him.
“C’mon then,” I giggled, opening my arms invitingly.
His eyes lit up as he immediately moved closer to me, wrapping his arms around my waist and nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck.
“Hey I thought you wanted to watch this film, hm?” I added looking down at him. “I did but I also wanted to cuddle.” He mumbled into the crook of my neck.
I turned my focus back to the film, Matt on the other hand didn’t, he eventually fell asleep his face still pressed into the crook of my neck.
4. ✮ ‘needy! Matt when he wants to make you feel good’ -
His hips gently thrust against mine as I throw my head back and let out a moan.
“Makin me feel so good, baby.” I praise him in which causes him to let out a loud moan as he picks up the pace of his thrusts. My manicured nails raked up him back, as I pressed down making small crescent moon indents on his skin.
“M’so close.” I moaned, the band in my stomach getting ready to snap at any given moment. “Please cum, wanna know how good I’m making you feel.” He whimpered, his hips snapping against mine.
“Mph- shit I’m cumming.” I moaned, my legs quivering as they tightened around Matt’s waist. As soon as I came, Matt let out a loud groan releasing ribbons of white inside my gummy walls.
5. ✮ ‘clingy! Matt when you’re both laying down for a nap’ -
Matt nuzzled his face into my chest, breathing in my scent. I nuzzled my own face into the pillow under my head as I slowly closed my eyes.
“Y/n..” Matt whispered, tugging at my his t-shirt. “Hm?” I said half-asleep and half-awake. “C..can I?” He asked tugging on the T-shirt even more.
I slowly nodded my head in my sleepy state as he pulled my T-shirt just high enough so he could latch his mouth around my hardening nipple.
“mmm, night.” He mumbled against my chest. “Night, baby.” I whispered, closing my eyes as I slowly fell asleep.
He eagerly suckled on my nipple as his eyes fluttered shut and he eventually fell into a deep slumber, his lips parting as they released my nipple from his grasp.
6. ✮ ‘Clingy! Matt when he desperately doesn’t want to stop eating you out.’ -
I gently tugged on Matt’s soft, brunette locks as he swirled his tongue around my sensitive clit.
I had came a few times already but Matt was desperate for more.
He lapped and sucked at my sensitive bundle of nerves causing me to let out more and more moans.
My sounds were like music to his ears as he eagerly continued.
His hips rutted against the mattress, trying the soothe the sexual ache in his pants as he devoured me like his last meal.
“G..gonna cum.” I moan, my eyes fluttering shut as my legs began closing around Matt’s head.
Once I had realised I was practically squeezing Matt’s head I unclenched my legs.
He looked up at me, his mouth covered in my juices, that lazy smile that I loved so dearly portrayed on his face before he dived straight back in between my thighs.
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A/N: I will confess I’ve never written head cannons in my life, so if these eat ass I’m sorry 😪
Tag list: @junnniiieee07 @mattyb4dominicans @imwetforyourmom @stasiesturn @sturnthepot
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fruittt-punchhh · 2 days
Note
what about a toji fic where the reader dominates him? She ties him up and teases the hell out of him and he’s pisseddddd, he wants to escape that rope so bad but he can’t, and when he DOES he goes feral. i feel like that’d be scrumptious 🤌🏻
everyone please let anon cook.
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MDNI!! incredible smut ahead, this is your final warning.
WC: 4.8k
CW: Toji x reader. Breeding. Name calling. Teasing. Little bit of free use. Toji is a whiny begging mess?!?!? Smut smut smut.
“Hey babe?” You call from the kitchen of your shared apartment. There’s a few creaks in the ceiling above you as you hear who you assume to be Toji shuffling to his feet.
“Whaddya’ want?” Toji yells from the top of the stairs, not wanting to make the full commitment of coming down just yet.
“Could you come down here? I wanna talk to you,” you yell back before he’s hesitantly taking the first step down. He was nervous since your birthday was in a few days. He wanted to play the nonchalant type and then surprise you this weekend with a party full of friends, drinks, and music. He already had plenty of presents picked out, buying one for each day of the month.
You were nervous, too. Your birthday was in three days and while you’ve mentioned it on and off to your boyfriend, you were still scared he’d forget. He worked at odd hours of the night and you didn’t even know if he had to work on your birthday. Birthdays weren’t usually a big deal for you, but you at least wanted him to acknowledge the day somehow.
“Hey, y/n, what’s up?” He says, heavy feet dragging the floor before he hugs you from behind.
You turn to face him, finding it a little difficult to escape his strong grasp.
“Remember that special day coming up soon?”
Oh god. Here you go. He wanted to act as if he had no idea, hoping to not spoil the surprise in case you asked if he made plans. But seeing that poor look in your eyes was enough for him to drop the façade.
“Of course baby doll, it’s your birthday. Why?”
Oh. So he did remember! Why has he led on like he didn’t?
“Well, it’s sort of embarrassing but I wanted to ask you somethin’. Figured you’d say no if it wasn’t my special day,” you admit, crossing all of your fingers and toes that Toji doesn’t laugh at your request and walk the other way.
“Shoot. Nothin’ to be embarrassed about, hun,” he says, putting a hand on his hip and the other on the counter, leaning into it while he studies your expression. You looked hopeful but scared, like a stray pup on the side of the road that just met their new owner.
“So ya’know how you like to tie me up sometimes when we…do it?”
How elementary.
“You mean when we fuck? Yeah, I like it quite a lot. Love seein’ you tied up on your back for me, ready to take me. If that’s all you want for your birthday don’t worry, I was plannin’ on doin’ that already, love,” he responds earnestly. You two didn’t use the ropes that often as Toji preferred using his own hands and arms as your restraints. But he always saw the way your face lit up when he tightened the rope around your wrists, corded nylon digging into your soft skin hard enough to leave marks for a few days.
“Well I was thinkin’ maybe we could do it like that but the other way around…?”
Jesus, if you weren’t blushing already, you sure were now. Toji always gets excited when you talk to him about anything remotely sexual. It seems as if a switch was flipped when you mentioned the ropes as he was now towering over you, green eyes peering into yours as he drinks in every word that leaves your lips.
“So tie you up and fuck you in doggy? We’ve done that before, ya’ just gotta’ ask, sweetheart. Use your words and be clear with me, you know how I feel about trying to read through your lil’ mind games you like to play,” he says with a smirk on his pretty face.
He grabs your hand in his, fingers interlocking as he rubs his thumb over yours as if you two were being purely romantic and thinking no kind of sinful thoughts.
You huff when he grabs your hand. You thought he’d catch on by now. You were never one to really take initiative in the bedroom. Toji always had to ask what you wanted and make you speak up if you mumbled too lowly. You were too embarrassed to voice your needs to him although it was something he could never get enough of.
“No, I-I don’t mean like that. I was thinking I could tie you up…?” You ask, nearly closing your eyes for fear of him laughing in your face.
He grips your hand tightly.
His other hand flies to your waist, large thumb pressing into your ribcage, hard.
His eyelids are lower, and his eyes quickly dart between your lips and your eyes.
Was he… mad? You couldn’t tell. When he got angry, he looked awfully similar to how he looked when you two were in bed together. A part of you found yourself slightly excited whenever he did get mad, losing yourself in his aggressive body language and taut figure.
“Oh. You wanna’ tie me up?” He removes his hand from yours, bringing the back of it up to your cheek as he brushes the hair out of your face.
“That’s what you’re all embarrassed about? You’re too cute. What’s gotcha’ wantin’ to take charge all of a sudden?”
Fuck it, you think. If there was a time to be honest, it was now.
“Well… I was watchin’ this video the other day. She had him tied up.. and it looked like he really liked it. Jus’ wanna make you feel good,” you admit, knowing the video you saw was much more explicit than your words let on.
“Make me feel good? On your birthday?” He asks.
He was trying to keep his cool as he pictures you finally taking control. He loved having the say-so in bed and he was more than happy to keep it that way. He liked to push your buttons and make you squirm, making you speak clearly when you asked him if he could eat you out or kiss your neck. But something about this scenario has him feeling red hot.
“I mean we d-don’t have to, I just thought it’d be fun to try… I even looked up knots I could do and stuff,” you beam, overly excited that he hadn’t shut you down the moment the words left your lips.
You were so precious. Doing research on a project you hadn’t even gotten approval for yet, overzealous at the slight chance he might say yes.
“Aw hun, look at you hittin’ the books. You think you could find some rope I can’t break out of?”
This conundrum had occurred to you, and you’d taken it upon yourself to run to the hardware store a few weeks ago to find some rope that was somewhat Toji-Grade.
“Maybe? I went to the store a while ago and found some I think might be good,” you respond as you watch the smirk leave his face.
He steps impossibly closer to you, now covering you completely in his shadow.
“If you’re extra good for me and you let me fuck you whenever I want, however I want for the next week, you have yourself a deal,” he says, quite excited to have you ready to use at his disposal as he pleases.
Holy shit. He actually said yes? All you had to agree to was a shit ton of sex for the next week? This was going to be your best birthday yet.
“O-Of course, baby,” you coo.
He picks you up by your thighs and puts you on the counter, attacking your neck with his lips, tongue, and teeth.
“How ‘bout we get started on that free use now then, huh doll?”
The day was finally here. You’d all eaten your cake, opened way too many presents, and the drinks were flowing. Most of your friends had left, only leaving a few stragglers that were currently looking for their belongings before their ride arrived.
You were starting to get very nervous. You had practiced a few of the knots that morning while Toji was out getting your cake, and you were sure you had the basic ones down. You had never practiced on a live model before, but you were hoping the glass of liquid courage you just finished would boost your confidence.
You wave the last of your friends goodbye, thanking them for coming. Toji had thrown one hell of a party. You twist the deadbolt to the left after you make sure your friends make it to their cars safely. You turn around to see Toji going upstairs.
“Where are you runnin’ off to?” You ask, hoping he hadn’t forgot about his promise.
Always so nosy.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t forget. Gotta shower first, get yourself ready baby,” he says, not even turning around as he reaches the top of the stairs.
You rush upstairs as soon as you hear the shower faucet running. You grabbed one of your kitchen chairs, trudging upstairs, trying not to hit the walls on either side of you.
You steady your breath as you place the chair on the hardwood. You grabbed the rope from your closet and took your party dress off to reveal your black lingerie underneath. You sit in the chair, tapping your foot wildly while you wait for your best present yet.
You hear the doorknob turn and you hop up, grabbing the rope tightly as you try to calm your nerves. You knew this wouldn’t be good for either of you if you half-assed it — the whole reason Toji made you fall apart when you two had sex was because of his confidence with his words and actions. You take a deep breath, reminding yourself that the more into it you were, the better it would be for your man.
He saunters into the office, droplets of water still beading off of his musculature while clouds of steam rise from his figure. All he had on his lower half was a short white towel, leaving next to nothing to the imagination. He lets out a whistle as he sees you dressed in your not-quite birthday suit.
He walks towards you, reaching his hands out to grab your waist and pull you in for a heated kiss.
Or so he thought.
You poke your finger against his burly chest, trying with all your might to push him back, though all you do is stop him in his tracks.
“Uh-uh sir, no touching. Sit down.”
He laughs at you, apologizing as soon as he saw the hurt look on your face.
“S-Sorry baby, didn’t think you’d be ready to start quite yet. This is gonna be hard for me ya’know, but I’ll try my best to act like how you do when we fuck, okay?” His reassuring words ease your worries, as you grab his hand and lead him to the chair.
You walk to the back of the chair, placing one hand on his buff shoulder, leaning down to whisper in his ear, “don’t call me baby. it’s ma’am and nothin’ else, yeah?” You ask, trying your best to channel whatever dominant nature you possessed.
Fuck. He told himself he wouldn’t like this. He needed to regain his composure before you got any bright ideas about dominating him more often. He mumbles back a low ‘yes ma’am’ as he watches a small tent form underneath his towel.
You start to unravel the rope, grabbing his large wrists and bringing them behind the chair before you’re wrapping the thick cord around them.
“What was that? Gonna’ have to speak up f’me,” you said, coining one of Toji’s phrases for your own.
Jesus. You were really laying it on thick.
“I said yes ma’am,” he growls, ashamed at how excited he was that the roles were reversed this time.
“Good boy,” you coo in his ears, noticing how his cock twitches as the sound of your voice.
You’ve wrapped the rope up and around his arms and the back of the chair, and while the first knot you tied around his wrists was shotty work at best, the rest were definitely suitable. You move your way to his front now, wrapping the rope underneath his broad pecs extra tight, loving how the rope accentuated his voluptuous figure. With each taut pull of the rope, his dick would spring up a few inches further.
“Won’t be needing’ this anymore, huh?” You ask as you snake your cold hands under the towel, pulling it off of him slowly as he raises his butt up to let you grab the rest of the fabric.
He huffs as he feels the cool air hit his member, a bead of precum at the tip revealing his love for the scenario he was in all too soon.
“Looks like somebody’s enjoying themselves,” you add, noticing just how excited he’s gotten since you two have started.
“Let me take care of you tonight, baby. I know you’re so stressed from work and you always take such good care of me. Wanna’ make you feel so good, yeah?” You say as you tie the last bit of rope around his ankles.
You were surprised he was being so silent about this. No protests, no sly remarks, no jokes at your expense. He was always so quick and cunning both in and out of the bedroom.
“Cat got your tongue?”
“No, just ready to get this shit over with s’all,” he scoffs, hoping you didn’t catch onto his bluff.
“No what?”
You were pushing him to his limits. He liked this, but his pride was being wounded with every word that left your pretty lips.
“No ma’am. Let’s hurry it up though, yeah? Been waitin’ for you to put that pussy on me all night,” and you can’t help but blush at his words. He took all the dominant energy you were feeling and turned it into submissiveness just with a sentence. You take a deep breath as you drop to your knees in front of him, ready to get the show on the road.
You glare up at him as you run your hands on top of his thighs, fingers splaying over the ropes holding him tightly. He smiles down at you, looking past his cock at your soft lips, aching for them to be wrapped around his leaking tip.
You finally reach the area Toji wanted your hands to be most, running your nail up the bottom of his long dick. He grunts at the contact, not anticipating just how much you wanted to tease him through this.
“So pretty f’me baby, you look so good all tied up when you’re not runnin’ that mouth,” you say, running your thumb on the underside of his tip before he bites his bottom lip.
You wanted to tease him plenty, sure, but you also had needs of your own that needed to be fulfilled, soon. You finally wrap your fingers around the base of his cock, and he was so thick you couldn’t even join your thumb to the rest of your fingers.
He drops his head back behind him, not realizing just how desperate he was for your touch. He’s cursing as you run your hand up his length, stopping to gather all the precum at the tip before you use it as lubrication.
You’re now teasing just the tip, rubbing your hand over and over it, overstimulating his most sensitive area just like he loved to do to your clit when he ate you out. The whiny moans he was emitting made your cunt ache with want. You reach your other hand down to play with your throbbing clit, moaning at how erotic this whole situation was.
“You like i-it too, bab — sorry, f-fuck,” he says before he’s even realizing he said it. He didn’t want to hear you chastise him for not calling him ma’am, but he couldn’t help but speak up when he saw your tiny hand rush down to your sweet pussy.
“What’d I tell you, huh? Am I gonna have to punish you?
He shakes his head with a fervor, responding with a firm “no ma’am”. He was so fucking whipped for you and if Shiu ever found out about this he would have to kill him. Absolutely nothing personal, just business.
You tell him he’s a good boy, wanting to reward him for being so quick to correct himself for you. You reach your head down before you lick his weeping tip so teasingly. He grunts, looking down at your pretty face as you take the full tip inside your wet heat.
“God, jus’ like that,” he whines, needing you to take more of him now.
You suck his tip harshly, pulling off with a loud pop!
“Don’t tell me what to do,” you command. You were all too eager as you cover your fingers in your lust, using it as lubrication to enter yourself (although you wish it was Toji’s fingers instead).
You take in more of him, hollowing your cheeks, using your free hand to stroke the rest of his massive length. You were hardly ever able to take him all the way down your throat, but the liquor helped you loosen up just a little bit more. You shove your head down until he reaches your throat, taking a deep breath before you remove your hand and push yourself almost all the way down. You swallow around him in your throat, trying your best to breath through your nose. Toji is squirming in the chair, so frustrated that he can’t grab a fistful of your hair and fuck your throat like you deserved.
“F-Fuck, takin’ all of me so well, doll,” he says, too lost in the warm wet walls of your throat to notice his mistake. He tries his hardest to buck his hips, making you gag around him before you’re pulling off of him much too quickly. He worries he pushed in too far before you’re sitting in his lap, so ready to scold him for slipping up one too many times.
You put one hand on his chin, running your finger over his bottom lip like he always did to you. You knew you looked far from intimidating right now, but you tried your best to keep up the act.
“That’s three times now baby. Guess I’ll have to punish you after all,” and boy did you have the perfect punishment in mind. You knew how difficult it was for him to keep his hands off of you the entire time, especially when you were reaching a hand down to continue touching yourself.
He tracks your every movement, panting while he watches you push two of your tiny fingers into yourself. He wouldn’t be able to last much longer like this. He knew your knot tying skills weren’t as practiced as his, and the ones you tied at his hands were loose from the start. He starts pulling on the rope more than he already was, hoping he can loosen the hold it had on his wrists to finally take you like he so desperately needed.
“You’re torturing me,” he says, making extra sure not to throw in a nickname like he usually would, “please just touch me, I’ll do anything,” he adds, really hoping you’d give in sometime soon.
You moan on top of him, leaning down to kiss his poor, over-bitten lips. He whines into the kiss, trying his best to be aggressive when all he could do is pull against the tight ropes and hope you take it easy on him.
“Anything, huh? Would you beg for it? I love when you get all needy for me. Beg and I’ll think about it, boy,” you tell him. You loved when he asked anything of you, just knowing that he wanted you had you absolutely melting for him.
He was passed the point of caring at this point. He was painfully hard, his red swollen tip leaking an obscene amount of precum. Watching you attempt to please yourself while he knew that he’d be able to make you cum in a minute with just his fingers was sending him.
“I’d do anything I swear. You don’t know how bad I need you. You look so fuckin’ good and I’m about to cum just watchin’ you. I know you want it, too, you still look so desperate f’me even though you’ve got this whole tough guy thing goin’ on,” he rambles, hoping what he said was enough to break you.
“Me? D-Desperate? I could just cum right here and be done with you, slut. You look like you’re about to explode j-just waitin’ for me,” you add, knowing he was about to fucking lose it.
The knot was so close to coming undone, but he didn’t want to let on as to was he was doing. He had to stop in his tracks once you reach a hand down to tug at his puffy nipple, cursing under his breath. You knew that was one of his most sensitive spots and you were too quick to use it to your advantage.
“I am, I promise I am. I’ll be such a good boy for you, I swear. Please just fuck me. Please I swear I’ll be good I don’t know what else to say just please fucking put it —“ he says as all the breath is ripped from his lungs. You had stood up at this point, turning around as you line up his cock with your puffy folds.
You sit down on him, wasting no time before bottoming out entirely. The stretch was so extreme, but you were much too desperate for him to fill you up. You hear Toji let out a desperate whine, not expecting you to take all of him so quickly. He was so pent up from all the teasing and all he wanted to do was to fuck into your sweet cunt with reckless abandon.
“G-God, yeesss, you’re so good for me, ma’am,” he says as obediently as he could.
You slowly draw your hips up before you slam back down, giggling at how cute Toji sounded when he was this pussydrunk. One taste of your cunt and he was already whimpering for you and obeying your every command.
“That’s it, you’re a quick learner, aren’t ya, daddy?” You ask. You knew Toji loved when you called him that, which is why you saved using it for special occasions such as these. You continue to fuck back into him, grinding on his lap as you moan so sinfully for him. All that can be heard is the lewd plap! plap! plap! of your skin meeting his as he whimpers underneath you.
Toji could tell your legs were getting tired as your pace became more sloppy.
“F-Fuck, baby, so so close,” you whine out, trying to fuck yourself through your high before your legs give out.
This would be the perfect opportunity to escape. With one final tug of the ropes around his wrist, he feels his hand set free. He bucks his hips into you, quickly removing the other hand from its confines.
“Yeah, is my baby gonna cum all over my cock like the cockslut she is? Huh? I asked you a question, bitch,” he spits out.
Did you hear him correctly? Did he forget how this game was supposed to go? You were debating pulling off of him entirely until you feel —
A hand?
Toji grabs a fistful of your hair before he yanks you back into him, wrapping the other around your waist before he is pounding into your sopping cunt at lightning speed. The ropes you bound were only held together by the knot at his wrist and two at his feet, so the rest of the ropes fell off of him with ease. You had no clue how he escaped and quite frankly, you didn’t care.
“Gotta get better at tyin’ those ropes, doll. Coulda’ got out a while ago, but I like watchin’ you struggle to cum,” he says casually, like he’s not brutally fucking you through your long awaited orgasm.
“That’s it, take this fuckin’ dick, doll. Lemme feel that pussy suck me in like she does so well,” he says, fully talking you through it as you release all you have onto him.
Before you can even come down from your high, Toji is literally spinning you around on his dick before he’s standing the both of you up. His legs are still bound to the chair, so it takes him a minute to find his balance. But once he does, he is absolutely abusing your filthy cunt as he fucks you in the air. Two big hands glued to your ass cheeks as he moves your whole body on top of him, not leaving any inch of his cock uncovered with your slick.
“Been teasin’ me so fuckin’ much, brat, gonna make me cum too soon.”
Your arms are tight around Toji’s neck as he absolutely ruins you, nothing but choked moans leaving your lips.
“Not my f-fault you can’t last old m-man,” you stutter, all power behind your words lost as soon as that knot came undone.
All he can say is a loud, “fuck you,” before he’s bullying into your precious cunt with a ferocity you’ve never seen before. You warn him that you’re so close to tipping over the edge.
“Nah, babydoll. Little brats don’t get to finish. Yer’ gonna’ take this fuckin’ load like the cumslut you are and you’re gonna fuckin’ like it,” he says as he’s fucking into you with a harsh final thrust before he empties his thick load into your tight, wet heat. His cum shoots out so fast, he’s moaning into your neck with each rope that comes out.
He’s all but collapsing back into the chair with you still on top of him, earning a low moan from you as the position pushes his seed even further into your womb. You start to pull off of him to go get a towel before he’s grabbing a wad of your hair and slamming you back down onto his cock for the nth time that night.
“No ma’am. We’re jus’ gettin’ started, hah.”
@theobsidianempress @scorpiosugar @voloslobotomyservice @lostsoul526 @shhreya @placxdbaby @iminurwallsgege @slvttyplum @tojiluhbit @leeisyourmom
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dolldefiler · 2 days
Text
[I keep hearing about how male gynaecologists are more compassionate than female ones… Also I spent half an hour looking up what a speculum exam consists of + what gynaecologists do exactly. Pretty educational actually. Also accidentally a long one, apologiessss.]
C/W: Rape, ob/gyn trauma
“Harder,” she says, her face cold and stiff. “You can’t learn anything if you’re touching her like a piece of art. She’s a woman, she can take it.”
He looks up at her nervously, and then at you apologetically. You feel his fingers, wrapped in cold latex push apart your folds. He can see everything. They all can. Every fold, every drop of cunt drool. She can also see you.
She mutters something under her breath and you blush, out of shame and anger.
‘Disgusting…’
Before you can bring it up, you grunt in pain as his fingers graze against your insides. You feel your eyes water. “Can we please st—”
“God, this is why I hate rookies. You can’t examine shit, if you’re so gentle.”
She grabs his hand and pushes forward. You’re in a world of pain but the braces hold your legs apart. Sharp, unimaginable pain courses through you as you hear her chuckle. You feel your limbs go weak.
“We should stop. We’re going too far here. I don’t care how many years of experience you have, these exams shouldn’t be this hard on her.”
You hear his voice bellow out angrily as you squeeze your eyes shut. A long moment passes. The rustle of medical gowns follows.
“What the fu—”
“Now, now, let’s not get too nervous. This is the first time you’re shadowing a real gynaecologist, isn’t that right, baby?”
“Why the fuck are your—”
“You’ve seen a pair of tits before, honey. Now answer the fucking question.”
With that, your eyes snap open. You can’t see much, perhaps only the top of her hair… between his legs. His hands are up in the air, but his eyes clearly can’t decide to look at her face or… something lower. To the side, you see her robes discarded and forgotten.
“Y-y-yeah, this is my first—”
“Mhmm, that’s what I thought, baby. It’s okay. I’ll look after you. I’ll look after you so well.”
You want to scream but his fingers twitch inside you, causing you to grunt in pain again. They both ignore you.
“S-shit, that’s… We’re not allowed to do this, right? Fuckkk.”
“You need to understand that what I say goes in this room. If I wanted, I could have you out of medical school by tomorrow.”
“Y-yes ma’am. But this can’t be right. I… she’s in so much pain. You’re giving me a fucking blowjob, for god’s sake!”
Finally, you manage to get a word in. “STOP THIS. STOP IT. WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON RIGHT NOW?!” You yell, breaking into a teary, incoherent mess at the end of your outburst.
Quick as a flash, she stands up, walks over and slaps you sharply.
“Shut the fuck up. The doctors are talking, you stupid little cunt. You’re distracting us. Now where were we, darling?”
“I—You… that’s definitely not allowed.”
“What, and are you going to stop me?”
“... Yes?”
She slaps you again and you yelp pain. You hadn’t even said anything!
“Now you can either walk out and tattle on me… Or you can do anything you want to my tight fucking body. I know you want to. Your eyes have been looking at me this whole time, not her.”
Your face stings but the sharp, stinging pain of betrayal hurts more. He was so… sweet. He seemed to understand her. Couldn’t he just stand up for her? You look at him and even now his eyes are transfixed on her perfect, gorgeous tits. She might be an evil, twisted bitch, but god she has the best tits you’ve seen on anyone.
She steps closer to him and for the first time this appointment, he stands up. But not to walk out. With a pair of fingers still buried inside you, he reaches for her tits. You push your weakened body up but one twist of his fingers and you’re back down. Their lips are locked and they ignore you completely. Her perfect ass folds and jiggles as she reaches for his cock, stroking it.
“Let me taste her. Let me taste that pathetic fucking cunt.”
Your cunt gapes slightly as he pushes his fingers between her lips.
“God… she tastes disgusting. I think it’s time we gave her a proper exam.”
Fuck… fuck… holy fuck, this is so wrong,“ he says as you feel his throbbing, aching cock push inside you. Despite his protests, he doesn’t resist burying his shaft inside you at all.
You scream. For a second. Then you feel her hand clamp down around your neck as she urges him to pump faster inside you.
“Our people have a lot of power, you know. All these innocent little sluts walking into your offices and spreading their legs. They’re just begging to be abused. Great power comes with a great opportunity to cum.”
“Fuck… you’re right. If she didn’t want this, she wouldn’t have spread her legs for me. If she wasn’t a fucking slut, she’d have a pristine pussy that didn’t need checking.”
That wasn’t how it worked and they knew it. He knew it. He just didn’t care. In his twisted mind, you were just another set of holes to fuck. Another willing fleshlight that had walked in to be abused. You wanted to scream, to let out your pain but you couldn’t.
“You don’t even remember her name, do you? Good. She’s just the first of many. She’s just a cocksleeve. Remember that. She was fucking built to take pain and abuse like nothing else.”
“She’s… a cocksleeve that was—oh fuckk—that was built to take abuse. She’s nothing. She’s nothing. She’s just a—oh SHIT—she’s just a cum dumpster for me.”
“Do you feel bad about her tears? You don’t, you twisted perv, do you? Rub her clit a little. Show her how badly she needs this. I can hear how wet she is already, that disgusting fucking perv.”
You feel his fingers brush softly against your clit, not so gentle that she felt nothing but not so hard that it hurt. Just right. Despite your best efforts, you moan slightly, the only sound passing through your throat. Your body’s betrayed you. And she’s realised it. She laughs, almost maniacally. “The dumb cunt actually likes it! She likes her little exam.”
That wasn’t true! That’s not true. IT’S NOT TRU—
You feel your head spin as he touches you again, the lack of air driving your head to new places. She’s standing next to you, rubbing herself to the sight of the young man jackhammering your cunt, like you’re a cheap, disposable sex doll. Maybe that’s all you are to them.
“God, do it. I can see you holding back. Don’t hold back, baby. Cum in the nasty cunt. God, it’d be hilarious if you knocked her up. Just cum as hard as you need to inside her. She’s just a warm—”
“Shut the fuck up, you whore. I’m cumming inside her. God, she’s so fucking tight. You twisted bitch, you did this to me. You’ve made me do this. Does it feel good destroying stupid sluts like her and corrupting innocent students like me?”
You feel thick ropes of cum blow from him, flooding your abused pussy. You lose your mind. This must be a nightmare. A dream that isn’t real.
“I LOVE IT. DO IT. KNOCK HER UP!”
He presses against you, the examination bed creaking under the weight of two people. In her excitement she squeezes too hard. You begin to fade in and out of consciousness. Darkness envelops you as she cums, squirt hitting your face.
The last thing you hear before you fade away is, “Don’t worry about her. She’ll wake up soon enough. I’m so proud of you for doing so well on your first exam, sweetie!”
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thoughtsforsoob · 3 days
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hiiiii i really love your writing but im an atiny and i saw you only have one of ateez fics. can i request ateez’s reaction when youre sitting on their lap for the first time?
- 🐰
a/n: thank you for this request anon 🩵 I hope you enjoy it! I know people have been asking for Beomgyu part 2 but I’m still working on it! I want it to be good but I’ve been having writers block 🤬 anyways, please enjoy this! love you! inbox is always open :D
hongjoong
this is going to be so cliche but hear me out. he’s so chill about you sitting on his lap. So chill about it that it actually helps him focus on some occasions. Here comes the cliche part…the first time you sit in his lap…it’s in his studio. Hongjoong and Mingi were working together and they invited you to come watch their process and you offered to bring lunch. When you arrived, mingi stepped out to go get you three drinks and hongjoong pulls you into his lap. You gasp and he just pulls you closely, presses a kiss to your forehead, and immersions his attention back to his computer. When mingi comes back, he laughs and sets the drinks down. You three have lunch and honfjoong does not let you off of his lap.
seonghwa
an affectionate partner would really match with him (he gives off "my love language is physically touch"). natually, sitting on his lap for the first time happens really early on in the relationship. it was your third date and he'd took it upon himself to plan it which you were more than okay with. he planned a picnic at the beach later in the night. The whole drive was soothing and romantic on its own. When you arrive, you realize there’s only one towel! Whatever will you two do?? Seonghwa offers to let you sit on his lap so neither of you get sand on you. You shyly adjust yourself on his lap and he confidently pulls you closer. You enjoy your beach date in the closest proximity you’ve been in so far.
yunho
big boy! he's been begging you to sit on his lap for ages but you've never been quite comfortable. he is just dying to physically feel how much taller he is compared to you. his wish finally comes tru one night when you've been busy working on uni homework all day long. you're rubbing the sleep out of your eyes and yawning non-stop. he takes note of this and starts to urge you to come to bed. he was sitting up against the head board, leaving his lap wide open and avaliable for sitting. you finally take it upon yourself to get up and get comfy on his lap. you didn't even realize his reaction in your sleep state but you bet he bragged about it to you the next morning.
yeosang
This little guy is so shy. like his face legit gets way too red and so do his ears. your and his relationship isn't very touchy so when you sit in his lap for the first time. the first time happens when you're on one of your little stay at home dates. you two were currently setting up your take out on your coffee table so you could start with dinner. you were so enamored with how happy he looked beause it was his turn to pick dinner. something came over you and you just shuffled over and sat in his lap. he stiffins up at first but kind of melts into it when you start to feed him. do not be fooled. he may be very shy but he loves to be close to you and to be doted on.
san
NEVER DO THIS TO HIM IN FRONT OF OTHERS !!!! He immediately gets hard but hey, his explanation is that he’s so in love with you and can’t help it :/ can you blame him? You sit on his lap for the first time while at a party he invited you to. He’d been talking to his friends for a while and was kinda ignoring you so when you decided you’d had enough, you make your move. You slowly slide on his lap when no one is really pay attention to him and he immediately tries to warn you with a low whisper about the consequences of your actions. When you don’t heed his warnings, he picks your ass up and takes you to the car.
mingi
He’s such a nerd. He’s get flustered so quickly the first time you sit on his lap but he ultimately loves it. this happens when he invites you to movie night at the dorms! It’s so cliche but somehow there’s no more space in the couch and he doesn’t want you to sit on the floor. You smirk and take it upon yourself to plop down on his lap and since then, legend has it that he’s never let you sit anywhere else but his lap 😏
wooyoung
This little cheeky cutie loves having you on his lap. He’s the one that kind of initiates it too. You both were at a party and the both of you had separated for a little while. He finally came back around to you since it was just you and one of your girlfriends. She stuck around and talked with you and then when wooyoung got bored, he pulled you into his lap. You gasped and your friend laughed. “Oh my god! You two get a room!” She giggled and you whined, pushing wooyoung away playfully. he’s so silly :(
jongho
he’s not bothered at all. In fact, if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he didn’t even realize it happened. You two were at your apartment, watching a movie together. You’d picked a cute Disney movie to watch. He looked at you with a raised eyebrow when you select snowwhite and the seven dwarfs but he doesn’t really care. Half way through the movie, you start feeling a little clingy and make your way to his lap. The only indication that he knew you’d done this was him wrapping an arm around your waist, pulling you a little closer. Overall, he loves it.
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ale-nose · 3 days
Text
Sex
fem! reader x Niccolò Govender
masterlist:
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You and Niccolo have been secretly seeing eachother for the past 3 months. You never told anyone about it since nobody would believe it. He decided to invite you over. Fuckkk you have been needing him so bad. As you arrived at his house you texted him. “i’m here”- You texted. “okay i’m coming cara mia”- he responds.
Next thing you see yourself getting thrown on his bed. Kissing eachother aggressively. “fuck you don’t know how long i’ve waited for this”- Niccolo says. You just moaned into the kiss. You pull on his pants, unbuckling his belt. “No not yet”- he says pulling away. “why not”- you respond. “let make make you feel good first”- he says while pulling down you pants. “you’re so wet already you fucking slut”- he says. Next thing you see him pull out his veiny thick cock and pushed himself inside of you. You let out the loudest moan. “shhh cara mia, you’re forgetting that my sister is home”- Niccolo says.
He starts to rip off every piece of clothing that was still on your body. He buries his neck into yours, sucking on your skin leaving a bright purple hickey. He starts to speed up his pace going faster making it hard to control your moans. As he puts your legs around his neck making him go deeper, you let out the loudest moan ever, his hands make their way to your neck, squeezing it. You pull him for a kiss. “fuck i’m so close”-you say. “me too mi amore”. He flips you around making your ass go into the air. As you begain to grab onto the bedsheets, he starts slapping your ass leaving marks. He begins fucking you faster making moans escape your mouth. “mhmm p-p-p-please niccolo”- you stutter. You finally feel warm liquid fill you up, making you release all over his cock. As he throws himself onto the bed, he pulls you closer to him. “i love you mi amore”- he says. “i love you too”- as you laid your head on his shoulder.
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REQUESTTTT also sorry this isn’t detailed
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