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vangelini · 3 months

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Boyfriend For The Night (Part 2) | Spencer Reid x Reader

Part 1, Finale!

Summary: After a few too many drinks, Spencer takes you back to your place, and you say something you might regret when you sober up…

Tags: fluff, more pining idiots, BAU!Reader, Fem!Reader.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption

Words: 2.3k (whoopsie)

“Reid is my boyfriend, for the night,” you smiled, taking a sip of your drink. It was, supposedly, just for the night, but Spencer liked the sound of that.

And, admittedly, so did you.

“Just for the night?” Morgan laughed, his bright, white smile teasing you two.

“Well, we’ll see how he does and go from there,” you joked. Reid couldn’t help but laugh a little at your comment.

“Well, I intend to impress,” he rubbed his thumb along the back of your hand, laughing under his breath while looking down at you. Penelope hit Morgan on the shoulder, drawing his attention toward Reid’s little look of love. He just laughed, turning back to his conversation with Hotch.

“Those two are so screwed.”

The night went on as one usually does. Some of the team split off into different games, dancing, or their own little conversations. You and Spencer were of the latter group.

“I can’t explain WHY The Princess Bride is my favorite movie, it just is!” You feigned defensiveness, leaning into the seat behind you, laughing. “Why don’t your profile it out of me,” you smiled at Spencer. He laughed, taking a drink of his club soda.

“Fine,” he set his drink down, turning to you. “I think…” he leaned down, leveling his eyes with yours, glancing between both of your irises. “I think it’s probably because, ever since you were a child, you’ve been escaping with fantasy,” he sat up. “It would be safest to assume you identify with Buttercup, that you long for someone close to you to come sweep you off your feet and solve all your problems,” he narrowed his eyes. You looked gently up at him. “But,” he sighed, leaning back. “Knowing you, I’d say you like Westley,” he smiled. “You grew up less wealthy and have worked your whole life to protect the people you love. It’s a movie that makes you believe there’s hope in the world,” he took a long sip of his drink.

Your jaw hung open in shock. “When did you learn so much about The Princess Bride,” you smiled, leaning your head on your hand.

“Garcia made me watch it,” he shrugged, laughing.

“Okay, fine…” You took a sip of your drink, head spinning a little. “So what’s your favorite movie, then, hm?”

He didn’t hesitate before responding, like he had clearly been wanting to talk about it. “L’age D’or,” he spoke with his hands. “It’s a-a seminal surrealist film that was actually co-written by Salvador Dali,” he smiled wide. “It used Dali’s classic absurd style and shocking imagery to critique the bourgeoisie and the Catholic Church. It, uh, was so controversial, actually, that it led to riots and bans,” he continued on about vignettes and taboos, but you just stared at him with a smile, eyes glazed over with pure adoration. Some time after he went on about Luis Buñuel’s other works, you realized you were absolutely whipped for this nerd.

You must have been off in la-la-land, because Reid got a little closer to you to get your attention. “Are you okay?” You snapped up.

“What, yeah, I’m good,” you smiled, smoothing down your slacks. “I’m gonna get another drink,” you smiled nervously, standing up a little too quickly. You stumbled a little, causing Reid to reach out and steady you with his hands. Morgan noticed.

“Hey, Pretty Girl, how many of those have you had?” He gestured to your glass.

“Probably too many,” you smiled half heartedly, realizing you were likely a little more than tipsy. You also started to notice how tightly Spencer’s hands steadied you. “It’s getting late, anyways, I’ll go call a cab,” you started to reach for your phone, but Spencer stepped in.

“Hey, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Pretty Boy is right,” Morgan added. “Someone should take you home.”

“Guys, Im an adult, I don’t need a babysitter,” you laughed, speech slightly slurred. Yeah, you were definitely drunk.

“It’s fine, I can take her home,” Spencer gave a tight-lipped smile to Morgan. He turned to you, ignoring Morgan’s small, concerned smirk. “It’s not safe to go home alone while inebriated,” he took his hands off of you, and you noticed how he flexed them a little. Interesting. You would have to analyze that in the morning, maybe when you weren’t so intoxicated. He pulled his crossbody bag over himself and grabbed your hand, leading you from the booth. “I’m still your boyfriend, for the night,” he smiled.

You couldn’t help but giggle at him.

“Okay, okay, whatever, pretty boy,” your hand tightened around his. The nickname felt different, coming from your lips, he thought. Somehow, it seemed like less of a nickname and more of an observation. He shook it off. “I don’t live far from here, we can walk,” you spoke as you both stepped out of the bar, the biting cold air hitting your skin. You wrapped your arms around Spencer’s, his biceps wrapped up nicely by his cotton sweater. You smiled, and, you couldn’t see it, but so did he.

“Sounds good,” he barely squeaked out, just content to be settling into your touch.

The walk was peaceful, passing by a river or a park, street lights illuminating the sidewalk. They cast a warm glow on the night, shining in Spencer’s eyes, glimmering as he glanced down at you stumbling by his side. The breeze was slightly shielded by Spencer’s towering figure. He relished the feeling of your grip, a sense of security he didn’t know he craved. And, for a moment, it really did feel like you two were a couple.

He helped you up the steps to you apartment. “Such a gentleman,” you joked. He laughed lowly.

“I’m trying to make sure you don’t eat concrete, but if you’d rather I didn’t-”

“I’m kidding, i’m kidding~” you slurred out, pulling out your keys. It danced around the lock a few times, since your vision was blurred, but with some help from your temporary boyfriend, the door pushed open and you were met with the warmth of your apartment. You couldn’t help but sigh, throwing yourself down on the couch. Spencer locked the door behind the two of you, watching you kick off your shoes.

“You should take your contacts out before you fall asleep,” he put his bag down. “Sleeping with them in can increase your risk of infection up to eight times,” he more than scurried over to your kitchen, filling you up a glass of water.

“Speeence, that’s so much work,” you threw a throw blanket around your arms.

“I know, sweetheart, but I don’t want you coming in to work tomorrow with dry eyes and corneal damage,” he set the glass down on the coffee table, kneeling in front of you. You were so tired, you didn’t notice the nickname. He didn’t seem to, either. “Come on, you need to take them out,” he reached for your arm, taking a hold of your wrist. His voice was gentle, laced with a genuine concern, and his touch was reverent. As you looked down to where his sturdy hands held you, you realized, for a moment, how deeply you cared for him.

He knew alcohol made your inhibitions nonexistent, but he didn’t expect you to start crying. “Hey, hey, hey, what’s wrong,” he grabbed the side of your face, wiping a tear off your cheek. His hands were just so soft, it made you tear up more.

“I-I don’t know,” you sobbed out. You really didn’t know.

“Hey, it’s okay, drink this,” he handed you the glass of water. As you took a sip, he moved his hands to your knees, soothing small circles into them. “Why are you sad?”

You sniffled, looking down at his face. His brows knitted together, eyes beaming up into your own. You could have SWORN you saw his heart beating against his sweater. “Because I love you being my boyfriend, and I’m tired of pretending I don’t,” you were a little embarrassed, but you were drunk, so it barely mattered.

Spencer’s heart rate spiked, and a rosy tint started rising in his face. “You don’t mean that,” he soothed, voice just above a whisper.

“I do,” you looked straight into his eyes. They were glazed over in something you couldn’t describe and probably never would.

“According to research, a-about 63% of people have admitted to saying something they regret while intoxicated,” he reasoned out, holding onto your hand.

“Another study found that 54% of those confessions are things they genuinely feel, Spence,” he realized you clearly weren’t out-of-it enough to not hit him with his own statistics. He couldn’t speak, and he really couldn’t think either. His adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, eyes dancing around your face. His heart jumped up and down as an innocent desire swept through his veins.

Did you really mean that? Was he not the only one who stole small glances in the bullpen? Was he not alone in his heartbreak when watching someone else flirt with you? Surely, this was a symptom of the alcohol. Maybe-

“It’s so hot in here,” you broke the silence, breaking away from him. He swallowed hard, eyes moving hesitantly away from your face.

“I’ll uh, I’ll change your thermostat,” he stood up, moving towards the hall.

“Thank you, Spence,” you lied down, sniffling once more.

He gave up on having you take out your contacts or change your clothes. He just spread another blanket over you, shutting off the lights. He even took the liberty of setting your alarm. Before he left, he heard you mumble a small, “Good night, Spence.”

He smiled, sighing.

“Good night.”

—

“Hey, Pretty Girl, didn’t have too much fun last night, did you?” Morgan laughed. He couldn’t see you rolling your eyes under the sunglasses that shielded you from another migraine.

“Ha-ha,” you set your stuff down. “That’s me laughing at your funny joke.”

“Honestly, I’m shocked you didn’t show up with Boy Genius, this morning,” he crossed his arms. “Leaving together from the bar, going back to your place-“

“Derek, nothing happened,” you huffed. At least, you THOUGHT nothing happened. The events of the last twelve hours were an honest blur.

“Okay, okay, I yield,” he threw up his hands, going back to his own work. You turned to see Spencer walking in at about the same time.

He had replayed your words in his mind about a thousand times, maybe more. Did you really mean it when you said you loved having him as your boyfriend? Maybe you said that to every guy who took you home drunk. He thought going through all the possibilities would make it easier to face you, in the morning. He proved himself wrong.

You pulled off your glasses, standing up. As he sat down at his desk, you leaned over it.

“I wanted to say thank you for last night,” you spoke softly, not out of secret, but out of vulnerability.

“It’s no trouble,” he smiled. “I just wanted to make sure you got home safe,” he looked up at you, moving some files around his desk.

“I really, really appreciate it,” you spoke apologetically. “I wasn’t too much… trouble, was I?” You smiled nervously. “When i’m inebriated, my inhibitions tend to…” you trailed off, trying to find the words.

“Disappear?” He smiled, laughing a little.

“Yeah…”

“You weren’t any trouble,” he reassured you, voice steady. “Actually, it was,” he smiled. “It was nice.”

“Nice?” you laughed, feeling your headache melt away at his soft voice.

“Being able to take care of you,” he defended playfully. “I don’t usually get to do that; it’s usually the other way around,” he tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear, looking up at your soft smile. “There was something I wanted to talk about, though…” Your heart skipped a beat.

“Crap, did I do something weird last night? I’m so sorry, if I did, I never-“

“No, no, nothing like that,” he laughed nervously. “You uhm…” he grabbed the back of his neck. He wanted to know if you really felt the same way he did. He wanted to know if you would hold his hand like that while sober. He wanted you. “Would you like to, maybe, get together sometime again?” He squeaked out, smiling shyly. “Maybe, this time, without the alcohol?” You smiled at his offer.

“I absolutely would, Spence,” you giggled out, tapping a nail habitually on the screen dividing your desks. He sighed a sigh of relief.

“Cool,” he pursed his lips together in a smile.

“Cool,” you mirrored him subconsciously.

Maybe it wasn’t just for the night.

(‼️💕THANK YOU TO EVERYONE WHO REQUESTED PART TWO. REQUESTS ALWAYS OPEN💕‼️)

#x reader #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x you

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fluorynn · 7 months

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〴 🔗 — ᴀ ᴛɪɴʏ Qᴜᴀʀɪᴛᴄʜ ɴᴏᴡ, ᴡʜᴀᴛ’ᴅ ʏᴀ ꜱᴀʏ?

〴 ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢꜱ : recom!miles quaritch ✘ fem!reader

〴 ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ : 4.3k

〴 ɢᴇɴʀᴇ / ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ : SMUT, no plot, Quaritch got a breeding kink, masturbation with an audience, teasing, vaginal sex, mentions of oral sex, choking? ( Quaritch receiving it, I am FERAL when it comes to those dog tags of his—) unprotected sex, squirting, creampie, explicit language

〴 ᴅɪᴠɪᴅᴇʀꜱ ʙʏ : @cafekitsune !!!

〴 a/n : Well… this is unexplainable, lol. One of my first times writing smut for Quaritch — for any big blue alien, lol🥲 Imma admit, I didn’t see him in this way at the beginning but the more I watched the movie, the more I realized he had no right being this FINE😭 anyways, im getting this out the way so I can continue with Neteyam’s series !!! Enjoy !!! <33

“Darlin’, jus’ move yer hand f’me. C’mon—”

The rather swollen lower lip of Quaritch’s lolled once more between his teeth. The corners of his mouth had elevated into a smirk. One that brought a prominent twinkle to his gold hues, one that clashed with the silver around his neck, dog tags dangling across his chiseled pecs down to the planes of his stomach. Of course, the breathing mask was also dangling his neck, but it seemed to be long forgotten by the recom with every breath he stole from you.

Constricting was the word to describe his lengthy abdomen, for the way he restrained himself with his entire abnormal strength from plunging forward into your tiny entrance, and the assistance of the small facility’s dim lights and perspiration coating his azure tones sent another jolt down to your stomach.

“M-Miles, baby, it’s not gonna go in—”

A ‘tsk’ hissed from between his teeth, lips puckering in that feigning disappointing manner, and a deep exhale emerged from you. The pink flesh of your walls fluttered around the imperceptible even though Quaritch’s plump, softly glowing tip stroked at your entrance, your small hands applying the slightest of pressure to his lower stomach.

His head couldn’t help but tilt in wonder while a dimple showed between his brows. Really, he could just ignore your commentary, ignore the way the small length of your fingers pushed at his lower stomach in order to keep him from moving forward and use his much stronger force. But how could he ignore that cute panic striking your eyes? He couldn’t be that harsh with you.

So instead, the large expanse of his thumb reached to gently push your jaw up to look at him. “ ‘T’s always the same thing with you, cupcake. Sayin’ it won’t go in, and yet ev’ry time, it does.”

Another lustful glaze of honey spiraled over his irises, making their shade darker, sponging those now dilating pupils of his as he glanced down your bare body and disheveled attire. His stupidly large hands and sharp canines had torn it to pieces, until your breasts were liberated and your weeping hole clenched from the cool air.

Your round eyes couldn’t evict from analyzing every tiny detail of his breathtaking face; at the way those lines upon his forehead wrinkled with his stifled grunts, how his brow quirked as his golden gaze devoured your every curve, at how his smiling mouth was moistened with your essence and was a reminder to how mere seconds ago, that feline-like tongue of his was between your legs, deliriously assaulting your clit, that Cheshire Cat smile sprawled across his face as he looked up at your crumbled expression.

The luminous freckles across his cheeks and flat nose were shining even more with his sweat and your slick, and the ones trailing down the lean length of his body glittered and entranced you.

His features were sinister, lips curling over his teeth while the rest remained hard. “I won’t repeat myself, cupcake; move. Your. Hand.” His honed incisors found their spot below your jawline, finding the faint puncture they’d left minutes ago and enhanced the mark once more as they sank in.

That was when your jaw went slack, lips shaping a pretty ‘O’ while the smallness of your palms pressed over the nape of his damp neck, fingers winding over the curve of his head.

Quaritch inundated every one of your senses; his scent wavered your atmosphere, his ridiculously long frame lumbering and hiding your petite one from any other’s vision, the coolness of his dog tags grazing the sensitive flesh of your breasts and equally as biting as the way his canines did.

Heat liquified through your entire body, walls elongating beyond constructing capacity the second your cunt consumed him entirely. “F-fuck—”

Quaritch thrusted forward, half of his widthful cock disappearing between your legs, and the tiny bed below created a screeching creak from the act. A dribble of sweat shun between his brows as he grunted a low cuss word, teeth grinding together at the way your little cunt tightened around him.

“ almos’ ‘ere, doll, almos’ ‘ere.” he crooned, thumb rising to stroke the damp locks over your temple, eliciting a muffled whimper from your throat.

Inhaling another sharp breath, glowing orbs peered into yours and with a small bob of your head, the other half of his shaft soon followed until his pelvis hovered over yours. All 10 plus inches stretching you out. Those eyes of his were blown out now as he stared down, being met with a subtle, so very subtle curve shadowing the flesh of your upper stomach — not only his eyes were abroad but so was that smirk of his as his hand went over the expanse of your belly, the outer shape of his cock, calloused fingertips grazing over the swollen flesh.

“Well, wouldja look at that beauty…ain’t it, darlin’?”

Ever so lightly he pushed down, and when he did, whine after whine flew up your lungs. He didn’t dare to move though, not until you gave him the green signal that he could, giving you time to modify and gain control of your inhales and exhales.

Quaritch was no better though, not while he stroked the bulge within your lower abdomen, not while you tried pulling him even closer, sputtering out a low chuckle and jittered breath before raising his mask to take another deep and long inhale. “ ‘N here ya thought it wouldn’t go in—”

He was cut off by the way your dainty hand winded around the loose silver drooping across his chest, wrapping it tightly around each length of your fingers until inches away from the base of his throat. His eyes widened at the sight of yours; round, devoured with lust. “Fuck me, Quaritch.”

His rasped chuckle pulsated through your insides, and a low groan erupted past his mouth when you squeezed around him as the octave of his mocking laughter picked within the deepest parts of you. “Patience, darlin’. Don’t wanna ruin little you if ya don’t give both of us a minute—”

His voice faded amongst the thick air, words caught in his throat with every twist and wind his dog tags made, clinking faintly against the other as your knuckles were practically burying against the blue flesh of his throat, nearly leaving no passage for air to transmit through.

“Ruin me.”

“Well ain’t ya a pretty brat—”

You huffed, hands releasing his necklace and pushed him away. This caused Quaritch to stumble and lose his balance, knees digging into the delicate mattress and hoisting himself up as you slid away from him, tight cunt releasing him with a wet pop that made the both of you moan out loud. He was about to protest as to why you moved, why you turned away from him but all he could do was let his eyes follow the way you got on your knees, follow the way the pretty arch of your back descended down to the curve of your ass; so round, so fucking eye capturing and mouth watering that he has to restrain himself from craning forward to take a sharp bite.

You felt him watching, felt the way those amber irises flickered into specks that soon flowed through you, gathering and igniting down your body and between your thighs as they rubbed together to add friction to the burn. Reaching next to the bedside, you had to prop yourself on your forearms in order to grab what you desired, leaving your whole ass up in the air and in perfect display for the avatar.

Ears chirped high, tail lashing in anticipation the more you arched, abdomen pressed into the white sheets. His palm had slithered down his stomach, fingers wrapping themselves around his cock and tightening at the base when your adorable fingers reached back and parted the globes of your ass, parting them so fucking prettily until both your holes were calling out to him.

“Ruin me, Quaritch.”

“I’ll be damned…” Lithe and swift was his movement as he rose up, and even on his knees his large body still lurched over you when he scooted closer, not caring for the bed’s possible break and the sound of his palm meeting your ass blocked out the creaking.

“Whatever occurred to ‘won’t go in’, huh?” He taunted you, yet you had felt him align himself once more, tip kissing your awaiting hole. He couldn’t help but slip in just an inch for the way you were drenched. Slick were your puffy lips, cascading down the inner angles of your thighs. Quaritch thought a little teasing never hurt anyone, so he was quick to slide out as soon as he slid in.

Desperate little thing you were, squirming and winding your hips back for his touch, the inhuman blaze of his body mingling with yours. You couldn’t help but whine at the way his fat tip did nothing more than graze along your pussy lips, teasing right over your clit.

It hurt , it ached terribly, the sexual frustration that consumed you. “Miles,” you muttered, the call of his name ending with a whine when a single digit of his — not enough to occupy the space of his cock but lengthy enough to stretch you completely out — swirled in, the pad rubbing over your adhesive, soft walls. “Somethin’ wrong, doll?”

His arrogant voice would’ve conflicted you if it weren’t for the way his accent thickened. He took pleasure in this, smug in the way your walls became one with his thick finger, watching the way you fell apart for him; wearily moaning, pussy drooling with no shame. Not a proper fuck yet and here you were, small silhouette disintegrating amongst his touch.

The very touch of his within you that soon turned into two fingers, slow at sliding in and out with the assistance of his dick.

“Quaritch. Enough with the games.”

Nothing but another chuckle huffed out, amused at the way you moved, already scheming and toy with your pretty pussy for as long as he wanted, and you caught onto this. Screw his damn schemes.

His mouth pursed in distaste at the way you perched forward and away from his shining tip. But all he could do was roll his broad shoulder back as he tried peering at what it was that you were doing, with his throbbing cock in his hold.

His head slightly inclined to the side as he watched something come into your hold. “Whacha got there, sweetheart?”

You disregarded his question and turned over, back beautifully curling against the bedsheets and legs bent to the air, parting as far as they would allow you to. Quaritch’s nose sharply inhaled, throat being greeted with every droplet of drool collecting in his mouth at the sight of you; the pillar of your throat exposing the blemished flesh there ( thanks to his truly), head tossed back with your face tilted to the ceiling yet eyes hidden beneath closed lids. The room’s small scale of space only lets the sounds of your breathing enter its atmosphere.

Until the hum of the vibrating device in your hands was featured. Quaritch’s attention was punctured to it, allured to the way you slowly brought it lower with each second.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were ya—”

Oh but he wasn’t. And you would. Quaritch — knelt on your bed that nearly met its breaking point — was disposed of all for a cruddy toy that’s mushed up against your clit.

“S-shit— oh!”

The merciless celerity muggled the liquid pouring from your cunt, seeping through every direction and Quaritch watched in awe at the way it all came into little crystalline spheres, trickling down and pooling into an entire puddle within the disheveled sheets.

This is what you wanted from him, what you needed from him; to give you the immense pleasure this silly toy was providing for you. Yet you had to admit it was enjoyable, the way Quaritch’s sharp gaze stayed fixated on your abused clit, a twitch of his eye giving you the satisfaction that he desired to be the one making you feel this good. He desired to be the one you crumbled apart for; the one that precious pussy got demolished to. But he knew forbearance was never an easy task for you, or better yet he should know this. You weren’t in it for his foolish games at the moment.

“Desperate little thing ya are, eh?”

A coherent rejoin spewed from your lips, no sense to your words whatsoever and this made him grin widely. The bed screeched once more, this time with Quaritch’s back flat against the wall but not before bringing the delicacy of his queue over his shoulder while one of his long arms extended out and lifted your body with lithe, placing you over his upper leg, and you could feel the hardness of his cock, pushing and rubbing against the length of your spine.

Your thighs were dangerously apart from one another thanks to the firm stretch of his large thigh, repelling you from pulling away from him as the pressure of the quivers into your pulsing bud augmented when his palm, forceful and large, enveloped your much smaller one and applied pressure there.

“M-Miles, baby, w-wai—”

His chuckle reverberated within your flesh, adding onto your helpless attempt to moan out a plea. “Nah, darlin’. If ye’re that desperate for it, lemme help ya out then.”

The pressure accelerating working your lower belly was beyond ferocious, and Quaritch knew this rather quickly. He knew this for the way his ears flitted at the sound of your jumbled heartbeat and pitch of your slurs, the way his free hand engulfed your entire hip as he tugged you closer, the way he picked up the intoxicating scent of you increasing, the way he had pushed you forward and plunged one, then two thick fingers deep into your cunt and you squeezed deliciously around them, pushing you close to the edge and into the pools of ecstasy.

The adaptedness of his finger pads covered and smoothed perfectly over the mushy parts of your walls. “ ‘Atta girl, that’s it—” His gravel-like voice grazed into your breathless and sharp exhales.

“I-I’m—Miles—”

An ignition flared in Quaritch’s core, with you so fucking pressed up against him, at the knowledge of you near in becoming undone all over his hand, just for him. The more his fingers thrusted in while the flat of his palm pushed the toy deeper, the more cum oozed out; sticky and translucent lot cohereting against his blue skin and a wide smirk morphed his features, waiting to get a taste.

“Ya near, cupcake?” You chin pushed into your chest, jaw quivering as the words whined out: “Uh-huh, I-I’m close—”

“Gonna make a bigger mess f’me?”

“Y-yes—” Quaritch withdrew his hand from applying pressure and led yours — still clutching the vibrator to your pulsing clit — just right above your lower belly, right near your pelvis area. This emitted an increase of the drizzle that was already scurrying around his fingers and absorbed into the bedsheets and his outstretched leg, until its splotching sounds had clashed with the octaves of your moans.

His hand was unrelenting though, still spurting in with the same merciless force he owned despite you already reaching your peak. “Q-Quaritch, oh my— shit!”

“I gotcha, sweetheart,” he purred into your ear, the pink of his nose nuzzling over the soft skin behind. “Let it out, c’mon, let it all out f’r me.”

The immense ecstasy you had felt slowly eased, bringing you down to Pandora’s surface. The pace of his fingers settled for a slow, sensual one and they jittered slightly within you when your damp cheek fell over his flexing forearm. “That was nice,” you breathed out, peering back at him with that lovely grin of yours that he too returned.

He pulled his digits out, groaning lowly at the squelching sound your cunt created when he did. Though they were quick to latch onto the flesh of your thighs, lifting you in the air until you were pressed down against and facing him. Those supple lips of yours parted in astonishment at the way his damn dick tumescences, cushioned tip shining with the opalescent glow of his precum, sprinkled with the twinkle of his star like freckles. It was unfair how pretty it was, how pretty his entire existence was. And Quaritch knew this, his mind had grown into this form, and he knew the way it affected you by the way he grinned with pride when your lower lip protruded.

“You’d be doing us a pleasure in givin’ us a turn, sweetheart.” With a tap of his tip on your tummy, both of your hands reached behind to support your weight on his thighs as you lifted yourself up for it to bury itself in you without any trouble, your cum functioning as lubricant as you settled down halfway down.

Your whimpered “yes” was all he needed to proceed, and the length of fingers wounded over your hip, practically splaying across your back while his thumb pressed below your belly button as he slowly pushed you much further down, watching as his cock awaited filled you, twitching to deeply fill your womb with his cum.

He didn’t mind the idea, he was actually curious to see a Tiny Miles Quaritch or… what would be a good way to name the girl? — if the little plum came out blue and chubby or the peach came out neutral and gorgeous like their mama, running around, wanting to test the waters in getting you round and swollen while carrying his inhuman DNA more than one time. The thought made him spasm as he stretched you out with his entire length, until you were flushed against his pelvis.

“Oh hell,” he gritted out, watching the way your eyes peered down at his constricting torso. “Perfectly tight as always…”

Vehement he was when it came to sex, and every time, with every touch and utter, you mollified for him. Clearly, this time was no different; the feel of Quaritch tumescending in you, his dick embedded within your stomach, all the reason to bring you close once again. “M-miles, oh my god—”

“Permission to move, doll?” The frantic bobs of your head gave him the opportunity to refresh some manners in that pretty head of yours. Teeth, deadly and predatorial, excavated into the interstice where the graceful line of your neck ranged and became shoulder. He didn’t release until the tang of iron became one with his taste buds, the rough surface of his tongue wasting no time in lapping the trickle of scarlet leaving your abused skin.

A hiss whispered from your lungs, and he soon managed to sweetly stroke his wet muscle over the pain he had caused until it was nothing but pleasure. The corner of your mouth hoisted when the flexible extension of his tail coiled around your thigh, wisps of dark hair skimming across your inner thigh.

“How cute…”

“Those ain’t the words I’m waiting for, doll face.” He growled out, and you reached out to very lightly tug on his queue. “Dammit, Quaritch!—”

“ ‘Dammit, Quaritch’ ain’t the statement I was lookin’ for, now I—”

His sentence didn’t finish its near end for your palms had reached behind and planted themselves on his thighs, hips giving a slow roll before lifting your body up until the thick tip of it remained slightly in and slammed back down with a throaty moan.

His back pushed against the wall, putting the mask over his flat nose and mouth once more, and you could see the way his sly grin grew behind the fog his sharp breaths created in the mask before letting it dangle once more across his chest, bracing himself for the next of your moves.

One turned into two, two into three surprisingly hard claps your ass gave with his cock nuzzled tightly and further within your womb with each bounce, each stretch. “F-fuck, Miles, fuck me, please!” You beseeched, you whined, not caring anymore to contain yourself.

Quaritch huffed out a chuckle, a single large hand reaching over to encase both your tiny wrists, practically your forearms in the curl of his fingers and mushed them against your breasts, and his back pushed off from the wall so his other arm could curl around your entire midsection. You had no other option but to surrender full control over to the colonel without a single complaint or shift of movement, leaving it all to him.

“As you please, cupcake,” are the last words uttered before he lifted your body off his cock, only to ram you down with much more verve. He continued until the choir of huffs, moans and whimpers featured with skin plastered and slammed against one another recapitulated within the small room, the most probable outcome being that the other recom avatars and scientists could hear what was going on.

A pearlescent circlet scintillated at the base of Quaritch’s dick, disseminating over the blue tones of his shaft with every rise and fall your pussy gave him. “F-fuck, Miles, fuck, Miles….” was dragged from your hoarse throat, revealing the pretty column of it with the head tilt you gave until an ache came upon your shoulders.

“Damn, darlin’,” his voice gruffed out, vocal cords tight and visible around the muscles of his neck as every single fiber of his body tightened as well as he contained the orgasm his lower belly implored to fully release past his aching tip.

Taking advantage of the hold he had around your wrists, he tugged you forward until you sprawled over his abdomen, the pads of his thumbs rubbing soft circles over your chin and lower lip. “Y’keep squeezing around me like this, pretty thing, don’t know if I can hol’ it—”

“ ‘m sorry, M-Miles, c-can’t help it—”

Trembling, overwhelmed, and close you were to be ruined once more atop of Quaritch. Your thighs and his tail was coated with sweat and your cum that splotched with every pull down and every snap his hips gave. “D-don’t think I can keep it in, don’t think I can keep myself from cummin’ in ya—”

He had slightly pushed you back and brought your sore arms over your head, tears pearling your waterline and lashes as you both peered down between your legs; how his pretty dick disappeared and half of it would reappear once again with the slight protuberance of your belly, the thick and glowing veins accentuating his striped shaft curling inside of you in the most exhilarating and immoral way.

“N-no, please cum in me— d-don’t pull out, d-don’t hold it—”

Quaritch’s brows had pinched together, an affliction being the cause of their shape as his remorseless thrusts had settled for a slower pace, though the force did not go unrelented, and though it brought a scorching pain to settle deep within your bones and muscles, you didn’t regret it whatsoever.

“Words like that are dangerous now. Y’really want me to fill ya up, doll, with the possibility of you gettin’ pregnant?” He brought your forearms back over your chest, pressing them further in as the arm currently around you pulled away, his palm being splayed out and pushing against the small of your back until your body shaped a lovely arch; and he grinned at the fact that you let him bend you to his will.

Uncoordinated syllables spewed from your tongue, unknown to anyone else besides Quaritch for he’s seen you in this state more times than he could ever count. “Hm hmm, get me pregnant, M-Miles—”

Lax colored eyes gained another coating of color as his grin outstretched his entire face. “Hm, really?” His back hunched off the wall until his mouth hovered over your tilted down chin, palm applying more pressure to the lower column of your spine, swirling you over his dick as your whines increased in pitch. “Want a blue fleshed baby in ya? A babe that carries my genes?”

A long groan followed down the length of his throat at the narrow clench your walls gave him from his words, and you could feel every spasm his dick created in your stomach. You could feel the ooze pooling within you, knowing his restraints had been broken as Quaritch’s dick already exuded.

“A pretty baby that looks like their mama?” He grunted out, almost as if the thought excited and pained him all at once, to see a little one portraying the exactness of your lovely features.

“ Do it, Colonel. Fill me up.”

All Quaritch needed was your verbal assent, and with that, not even a second later, the coiling band within his lower stomach finally snapped, emptying his entire load in your pussy, giving into your words. Thick and boiling it was, your cunt, your own flowing with it. The increasing pressure of it became too much, pushing your own release afterwards, hybridizing with Quaritch’s cum as it seeped down his cock, still throbbing from the aftershocks within you.

His tight grip relinquished into a soft one around your arms, soon releasing them as he very carefully, very gently brought you to his front until your chin found its spot over his heaving chest, cock still buried deep inside of you, making sure that none of his seed went without purpose.

It was an entire different story when it came to aftercare, how sweet, how soft he was with you; his large palm cradling the curve of your head close while his fingers managed to reach and stroke the damp tendrils of hair pasted to your temples and cheeks, his tail setting for a protective, gentle curl around your leg, his mouth softly falling over your forehead, your cheek, your neck, shoulder, with hushed praises meeting your perspired flesh as well.

You exhaled serenely as you melted into his touch, Quaritch’s other palm flush over the small of your back while his thumb stretched to stroke your belly. Silence lumbered over the two of you, savoring in the feeling and moment until Quaritch’s rasped, accented voice had to cut in.

“A tiny Quaritch now, what’d ya say?”

“Absolutely not naming him Tiny Quaritch.”

“Nickname should be T.Q.”

#avatar the way of water #avatar james cameron #miles Quaritch x reader #recom!Quaritch x reader #Quaritch x reader smut #𝐍¥𝐑𝐑’𝐒 𝐏𝐄𝐍 !*ೃ༄#recom!miles quaritch #miles quaritch #recom!quaritch x Fem!reader smut #miles Quaritch avatar #atwow quaritch #¡¡ ŋყཞཞ !! 🪼🪼

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bitchimasnake-sss · 11 months

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"forgive me one last time" ft. the monster trio!

headcanons of highschool!au monster trio as your boyfriend begging for forgiveness after fucking shit up :) m.list

luffy:

- "yn" he mumbles, trailing after you in the hallways "stop trailing me" you hiss as you open the locker, shoving the books inside and taking out another "yn" his hands are wrapping around your waist, his neck finding home in the crook of your neck and he's whining again, "please forgive me, pretty please?" - it wasn't even like you got mad often tbh; dating luffy meant he is gonna do stupid shit and you're gonna have to deal with it but there was a limit to stupid shit too - you shove his head away from your neck, "romilda fuckin' asked you, "wanna go watch a movie??" and you said yes. how can you say yes to a date while you have a girlfriend?! do i mean nothing?!" "i didn't know it was a date!!" his hands are wrapping around you tighter, "i thought she was lonely and wanted to hangout with a friend!! you know i wouldn't have said yes otherwise ynnn~" "are you an id-" you huff, "i'm getting late for class, get off" you forgave his dumbassery on the regular but come on, now its insane - yeah you didn't forgive him - not until you came back to keep your books and take new ones for the next period and saw giant "i miss you" and "sorry" glittery stickers plastered onto your locker (did he steal those from a 3rd grader? youre not sure) - you huffed, opening the locker - your jaw went slack - the entire locker was full of your favourites. your favourite candy, the cookies sanji always makes during christmas (how did he get those rn??), your favourite soda and flowers - how did he manage all that in the time span of one period??? - at the side is a note in a scrawly handwriting, "you wanna go watch a movie with me? (asking you for a date, not as a friend who wants to hangout) boyfriend :)" - you ended up forgiving him only after he bought he a bucket of popcorn and kissed you during the end credits of the movie - he also had to buy you dinner from the baratie like a gentleman.

zoro:

- "zo," you huff, "it's like the thousandth time, ofcourse im gonna be fucking mad at you!" "i know" he groans, "i really know, but i'm sorry, please" "no. you can't keep saying you'd show up for my events and then fuckin' disappear like always!" - you're fighting in hushed whispers in the hallway, you didn't wanna cause a scene because you know how bad zoro finds public attention - you know he's busy training, busy with his friends and you know he loves you but a part of you wonders if he simply doesn't actually love you - he constantly fails to show up at your events, he has never outright called you his girlfriend in front of people who weren't his close friends and he has never even held your hand in public because he says pda makes him uncomfortable - you got him but it simply sounds like he's afraid to admit you both are together - "are you not happy with me?" your voice is breaking, crumbling into silent heaves, "do not lo-" "what?" his hands find yours, "no, ofcourse not. baby, i just had another practice and dad (mihawk) called me back home. im sorry, i couldn't say no to him" "i know b-" - he kisses you - in the middle of the fucking hallway, with other people around - he does it. that bastard. - his hands are tucking your hair behind your ear, resting softly on your cheek as he tip you backwards and kisses you till you cannot possibly breath "i love you" he says loud enough so that anybody within earshot could hear, flashing you a small smile his voice comes down to a whisper, "i'm sorry i suck at being a good boyfriend, i will get better okay?" - he follows through on that promise because the next time, he is standing at your event with a tshirt just reading "yn is the coolest" and a small, stupid smile on his face "was the tshirt necessary?" "yes" - ugh i love soft zoro

sanji:

- sanji had a (bad) habit of always backing you up - one might wonder what's bad about that but when he almost beat the shit out of a random guy for saying he didn't like your vibes - "sanji!" you pull him away, eyes widening, "stop it" "but yn" "you cannot keep doing this! you cannot keep fucking putting up a fight against anybody who doesn't like me-" "yes i can" "sanji." - it ended up leading to a fight and you stormed off into the class - you expected sanji to come apologize the very next period or atleast text you or something - but nothing. you didn't see him for the rest of the day. - not until it was 9 pm and all of a sudden, a cheesy pop song was playing outside your window and in your front lawn stood a drenched, blonde guy holding up a boombox and a giant wet, white sheet reading "FORGIVE ME YN IM SORRY PLEASE I LOVE YOU" - first of all why was he drenched? it wasn't even fucking raining - that brings your attention to his two best friends, luffy and zoro holding a hose at him from a distance (luffy is giggling, he's having the time of his life, zoro looks like he hates being alive) - "sanji why are STANDING IN FRONT OF WATER?!" "SO THAT YOU FORGIVE ME, MY LOVE IM SORRY" "YOU'D CATCH A COLD, COME INSIDE IDIOT!!" - well, he did bring a box full of home-made chocolate though, so you cannot be mad at him for long - did this event stop him from being a bit over-bearing? no, not really but eh, that's sanji for ya

a/n: cutesy little headcanon lol thankyou so much @scentisterror for helping me with this <3<3 m.list

#one piece #op #opla #one piece x reader #zoro x reader #zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #sanji x reader #sanji #vinsmoke sanji #luffy x reader #monkey d luffy #one piece headcanons #op headcanons #monster trio #one piece fluff

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ohimsummer · 9 months

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✎ . . .❝DO YOUR DANCE, SATORU!❞

— poly satosugu! x reader shenanigans from nanami’s pov :3, + haibara’s alive because i like to be happy

bzzt!

the vibration of his phone catches nanami’s attention. there’s a high possibility it’s not work since it’s so late in the evening, so it’s likely the groupchat gojo forced you into forcing nanami to join. so he ignores it. he’s in the middle of making himself dinner, and it’s probably just gojo with his regular nonsense anyway. nanami continues chopping vegetables, seasoning meat, boiling water in preparation for a stew, and it’s not until everything’s finally in the pot that he decides to check his lockscreen.

y/n :): 1 attachment

y/n :): $1 and i’ll make him do this in a cheerleading outfit

nanami quirks a brow at that. with 0 context, this conversation is already off to a rough start.

gojo.: NO WAY IM NOT DOING THAT

y/n :): if you don’t it means you don’t love me

gojo.: that is MY line and also NOT how this works

y/n :): 1 attachment

y/n :): SUGUUU <33

Geto: <3

gojo.: YOU TWO HATE ME??

Shoko: aw fuck he beat me to it

gojo.: YOU GUYS SUCK

the conversation devolves further into utter insanity, and the beep of the oven draws nanami’s attention. a sweet smell of cooked batter enters his nostrils, and he becomes distracted with the cake in his oven, mind drowning out the subsequent buzzes and chirps of his phone.

it’s not until a busy week later, as nanami lounges on his couch watching whatever movie, that he remembers the past conversation. curiosity gets the better of him, and he unlocks his phone to scroll through heaps of inane messages, mostly between you and gojo with whoever’s sassy remarks in between, until he sees this:

y/n :): 1 attachment

y/n :): GOT HIS ASS

gojo.: FUCJING STOPP

gojo.: UNSEND THAT RIGHT NOW

Shoko: LOLL

Yu!: wow pink really suits you!!

it’s a video with various bubble reactions on it, most of which are ‘haha!’. The thumbnail is blurry, so nanami decides to watch and see what all the fuss is about. surely it must be something humiliating if gojo is this adamantly against it.

the video starts with gojo, arms crossed and a deep frown carved into his face. hints of his…outfit peek out from behind you, who’s fiddling with the pigtails in his short locks, tied together with tiny, pink ribbons.

“ ‘kay, all done!” you step back, only to reveal gojo in a cropped, white cheer top and pink, pleated skirt, both of which stretch against his abs and toned legs. a pink mask much like his usual one covers his eyes. thigh highs, or rather knee highs on him, wrapped around gojo's calves and pink slides which are obviously not his if the way the backs of his feet hang off them is any indication.

you step out of frame, not before giving gojo a thumbs up paired with your girlish giggle, but he makes no effort to move. geto’s voice sounds behind the camera, close to signal he’s the one recording.

“c’mon, now, i paid good money for this.” there’s amusement laced in his tone.

gojo’s jaw goes slack, mouth gaped open and hands falling to his hips, making him look even more sassy with this current getup. “it’s a fucking dollar!”

“and it’s gonna be a dollar well spent.,” geto quips. “c’mon, you look great, just do it.”

your voice calls out beside geto. “yeah, you’re such a cute little cheer captain! do your dance, satoru, go, go, go–!”

gojo's head falls back on camera, any protests drowned out by you and geto’s rampant, continuous cheering. he mouths something before jumping to spread his legs in a 'v', both hands raising above him to form peace signs. his lips jut out in a pout before he forces a kissy face; eyes scrunched closed and you and geto cheer 'wooo!' as gojo dances and cheers on camera, pigtails bouncing the entire time.

the video ends abruptly, with gojo hunched over in exhaustion, wiping sweat from his forehead. nanami blinks in surprise, rubbing the smirk away from his lips. it takes a few clicks to save the video, and he makes sure to bring it up next time gojo decides to bother him.

#nanami kento imagine #jjk imagine #satosugu x reader #poly satosugu #gojo x reader #geto x reader #jjk x reader #satoru gojo imagine #suguru geto imagine

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bratphilia · 10 months

Note

would it be a bother to ask for a fic w a tomboy reader and william afton? ive been on such a kick w william afton x reader fics here since i watched the movie and i love all of them but i am not feminine in the slightest so if you could write one id be so grateful!! and age gap and size difference too would also be sooo 👌👌👌. thank you so much!!!

note ✧.*‎ this was a lil hard for me to write considering im on the girly-er side so if anything looks weird in relation to the premise i apologize in advance!! also so sorry for getting this out a lil later than promised.

pairing ✧.*‎ steve raglan / william afton x reader

cw ✧.*‎ age difference (reader is 18-21, william is 45-50), degrading, spanking, approximately two slaps to the face, blow jobs, rubbing through jeans? idk what to call that, coming in pants (fem)

taglist ✧.*‎ @dilfity

synopsis ✧.*‎ while attending yet another meeting with your career counsellor, he has a few choice of words for you.

jeans (w. afton x reader)

you sit in mr. raglan's office, trying to sit straight up, legs crossed, not bouncing. he slightly shifts in his chair as he reads your file, moving his spinning chair from side to side, as he mentally scrutinizes your report. it's nerve-wracking. anyone in your shoes would feel this way, but the way he's intently reading over every little detail makes you squirm.

the worst part is, this isn't even the first time you've been in this exact position. it wouldn't be so bad if mr. raglan wasn't such a hard ass on you. always practically demanding answers of why you keep getting let go from the jobs he gives you, criticizing the tiniest details. nothing gets passed this guy, and yet here you are.

(there's something that almost riles you up about the way he talks to you, though. he has a habit of talking with those big hands of his in a way that makes your insides twist.)

"so you sit here in front of me..." he pipes up suddenly, looking at you then lifting a brow, "wearing jeans to a meeting, for christ sake, asking for yet another job, so what? you can get 'let go' again?"

"well, yes," you say, a little dumbstruck at his comment on your attire.

mr. raglan laughs shortly. "i got news for you, kid. people with your kinda track record don't exactly find jobs as easy as you think they do."

you hold back from rolling your eyes. your fists clench at your side angrily. you speak through gritted teeth, "look, i just need a job. i'll take anything, i'm desperate."

"hate to break it to you, but things just don't work like that—"

you've had it. "will you just stop being such an asshole and give me my damn options already?! i didn't come here to be lectured."

you're seething, breathless from your outburst. your heart is pounding but nothing can beat the jaw-slacked look on his face. there's a deafening silence that has you on the edge of your seat. then, shortly, "you come here for advice, and i'm giving it to you."

you want to say something again, you open your mouth to do so, but he raises a hand to silence you promptly. "you said you're desperate, hm? want my real, useful advice?"

you stare at him, not liking the direction of this conversation or his weirdly tone of dripping malice. "get the fuck on your knees then."

it's hot, you'll admit it. and he's the whole package too, total dad-i'd-like-to-fuck and all. this isn't your type of deal, but if he's gonna offer it to you, fuck it, you'll take it. you'll take everything this man gives you. "mr. raglan—" you say, purposefully furrowing your brows, trying to act scandalized for godsake—

"get your ass over here," he scoffs with a roll of his eyes.

you shut up, perking up at that, and make way to the open space between his legs. "look at you, you degenerate thing. on your knees for such a cause."

your head swims and the buzzing between your thighs becomes far too apparent to be ignored. but you're willing to wait for that relief. you part your lips expectantly, hoping he'd get the message to undo his pants and he just laughs at you. "filthy fucking thing wants my cock in her mouth so bad."

"uh-huh," you say, mouth still open.

he does away with all the restraints and guides his cock into your mouth. eagerly, you take him and lick up the underside of his dick, eliciting a groan from him. he makes a fist around your hair and guides your mouth up and down his cock, not caring about what you can and can't take and you fucking love it.

the noises of him hitting your gag reflex is music to the mouth of your ears. the way you push him out only for him to slide back in is truly a marvel. and the grunts, groaning, and degradations that come from him makes you want to take him even faster, more than what your body can handle, and he just laughs it off, commenting on much of an "eager, filthy thing" you are.

when you feel his helping hands thrust your mouth more erratically is when he decides to pull you off. he uses your hair to stand you up and practically shove you against the desk, back facing towards him. you yelp in pain, only adding to the ache in your stomach. he stands to his full height and you gulp. fuck, he's so much bigger than you, of course he can just throw you around like that. when you ask him if you should remove your clothes, he pauses for a moment, thinking. then, mischievously, "no, i want to make good use of those jeans."

curiously, you look back at him, but his fingers are pressing against your clothed pussy. he presses hard, letting the fabric grind on you. "oh, fuck," you moan.

"yeah? you like that?" he asks gruffly, rubbing your clit through your pants from side to side. usually this stimulation wouldn't be enough, but fuck you were so hot for him that you didn't care. "fuckin' dressed like a boy," he scoffs.

tears burn in your eyes, partly from his words, the other part from the stimulation. then he slaps you across the face. "i asked you a fucking question."

"yes!" you cry, moving a hand to rub at your stinging cheek. he grabs your hand and then slaps the other side of your face, just for fun. a few tears slip down your face at his physicality, but doesn't change that fact that you, "love it so much!"

"think you deserve to come?" he asks. "after that shit you pulled. you think you deserve it?"

you sniffle, knowing damn well what his answer's going to be. "well, i don't."

he removes his hands then promptly wipes them on his pants. you sob out, grasping for his hands but he pushes off of you. "you better come back with a better attitude if you expect anything more than what i gave you."

#asks #fnaf #fnaf x reader #five nights at freddy's #fnaf smut #william afton #steve raglan #william afton x reader #william afton smut

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sukuna-dees-nuts · 5 months

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rizzless sukuna pt 4

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

at long last!!! it's here, im back!

---

It’s been about two weeks since Sukuna had his date with Megumi. His mood is the best it’s been in awhile; the change is enough for his parents to notice. When they try questioning him about it, he brushes them off with an easily crafted lie. He’s not quite ready to tell them that he’s possibly dating his younger brother’s best friend (who they almost consider their own son at this point).

Sukuna isn’t ashamed or anything. He knows that his parents wouldn’t give a flying fuck if he told them he isn't straight, but he also didn't think it necessary to tell them anything. Who cares? It isn’t anyone’s business but his own. They’ll figure it out when Sukuna brings Megumi as his date to dinner or something. The idea alone gives him butterflies and he scowls at himself.

He and Megumi have been texting back and forth nearly nonstop since their date. Well, nonstop in the sense that he talks to Megumi more than anyone else, which only happens to be his brother and Maki. Sukuna has never been one to hold a conversation (which was obvious during their date), but there’s something about Megumi that makes Sukuna want to talk. He wants the conversation to keep going. Every time it drops, he finds himself picking it back up again, usually with a movie related question.

Megumi still questions the fact that Sukuna says that he is not a movie buff simply due to the amount of movies that the older boy has seen. The more Megumi mentions it, the more Sukuna starts to believe it himself and he curses his younger brother’s effect on him, not that he’d ever admit it to Megumi or Yuuji.

At the moment, the two of them are arguing over who is better: The Joker or Loki.

Raisin Boy: Idk I think that Joker could outmatch Loki

Sukuna's jaw drops and his thumbs furiously tap away at the screen, not listening to whatever Yuuji is saying to him. He's in the middle of an important argument!

’There's no way. Loki has Joker beat 100 times over! He’s taken punches from Thor and The Hulk, and he has magic. There's nothing the Joker could do to Loki!’

He huffs and drops his phone onto his leg, crossing his arms over his chest as he waits for Megumi's reply.

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” Yuuji asks, briefly glancing at his brother before looking back to the screen so that he can dodge an attack.

Sukuna shakes his head and scoffs, “Your shitty gaming skills. You still haven't beaten this boss?”

The younger boy grunts. He stays quiet for a moment as he concentrates before he replies, “His spinning maneuver that he does always catches me off guard.”

Another beat of silence stretches between them and Sukuna momentarily forgets about his little argument with Megumi as he watches Yuuji rolling around on the screen. He manages a few hits on the boss character before ultimately meeting his doom when he goes into his spin attack and kills Yuuji’s character immediately.

Yuuji huffs and slumps back against the couch in defeat. “See what I mean?”

“Gimme that,” Sukuna grumbles. Reaching over, he snatches the controller out of his brother’s hands. He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees (his ‘boss fighting position’ as Yuuji has appropriately named it).

The only sounds in the living room are the sound of Sukuna’s fingers rapidly hitting buttons on the controller and Yuuji’s gasps in surprise. He sits up with wide eyes as he watches Sukuna effortlessly fight this boss character that Yuuji has been struggling with for about a week now. Of course, leave it to Sukuna to pick up on Yuuji’s slack.

When Sukuna’s phone dings, his concentration goes out the window and he glances down at his phone to see who the message is from. A bad decision on Sukuna’s part because within that same second, his character dies from a large attach from the boss, leaving Yuuji’s character defeated once again.

“Wh—Sukuna!” Yuuji groans. “You almost had it!”

Sukuna shrugs and tosses the controller back to his brother. He picks up his phone with a shrug, unlocking it to read Megumi’s message. “Sucks.”

Yuuji stares at his older brother for a long moment, taking in the expression on his face. There isn’t a smile per se, but he notices the way Sukuna’s features seem to relax when he reads the message he just got. It makes Yuuji raise an eyebrow in intrigue. Who could he be talking to that would earn just barely a hint of a smile from Sukuna?

He leans over, trying to peer at Sukuna’s screen, curiosity getting the better of him. “Who are you talking to?” Yuuji asks.

The older boy’s trance is broken at the sound of Yuuji’s voice and whatever “smile” was on his face falls immediately and he narrows his eyebrows at his brother. “What?” he asks, instinctively leaning away from Yuuji.

“You never just lose a boss battle because someone texted you. Who is it?” Yuuji asks again, a shit-eating grin on his face and he leans even closer to try and get another look at Sukuna’s phone.

Sukuna scoffs and shoves Yuuji away roughly. “None of your damn business.”

“Well it has to be someone!”

“Yeah, I’m asking the adoption agency if they’ll take you back if we still have the receipt.”

“I wasn’t even adopted!”

Sukuna raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure about that? I’m hot and you’re…” He pauses, his eyes quickly glancing over his brother and grimaces, “eugh.”

Yuuji’s jaw drops. “What do you mean eugh? We look the same! We have the same face!”

Sukuna slowly turns his attention back to his phone, turning his body so that Yuuji can’t peek at his screen. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, buddy.”

With a shake of his head, Yuuji kicks his brother in the leg and goes back to playing his game, grumbling under his breath.

Focusing back to his phone, the older boy goes back to replying to Megumi. He types out a message only to backspace and try again. This happens 3 or 4 times which seems to be enough to concern Megumi because another message pops up.

Raisin boy: I'm just pulling your leg 😂 I agree that Loki is far better than Joker

Sukuna’s jaw drops as he stares at the message. Another one pops in.

Raisin boy: As your brother likes to say… Got em

Unable to keep himself from chuckling, Sukuna shakes his head and his mouth cracks a smile. “Oh my God.”

Yuuji glances over, his attention caught by the sound of his brother laughing. “Okay, seriously, who are you messaging?”

“Shut up,” is Sukuna’s reply.

Raisin boy: And you say that you’re not a movie buff

Biting his lip, Sukuna mulls over what he wants to say next. Since they’re on the topic of movies, he wants to ask Megumi to come over when his family isn’t home so they can actually watch The Exorcist and The Conjuring together as they’ve had planned.

He kicks Yuuji in the leg. “Do you still have plans with your friend Johnny or whatever on Thursday?”

Yuuji makes a face. “... you mean Junpei?”

“Yeah, sure.”

The younger boy slowly nods his head. “Uh yeah, why—”

“'K, thanks.”

Sukuna begins typing out his message, asking Megumi if he’s busy on Thursday afternoon. He hopes whatever higher being is out there watching that the other boy isn’t busy. It’s almost disgusting to Sukuna how much he wants to spend time with Megumi. Sukuna doesn’t even want to spend this much time with his own friends. Or friend, in this case. Maki doesn’t mind, of course. She has her own life and isn’t reliant on Sukuna for socialization.

“Who are you bringing over?!” Yuuji exclaims, dropping the controller to turn his full body in Sukuna’s direction. “That’s the only explanation!”

Sukuna scoffs. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“I would!”

The next thing Sukuna knows, Yuuji lunges at him. He tries to grab the phone out of Sukuna’s hands but his grip is strong, the two of them playing tug-of-war with it. Yuuji tries twisting his body so that his back is facing Sukuna, pinning the older boy’s arms under his armpit to give him better leverage when attempting to pry the device out of Sukuna’s fingers.

“Yuuji, you brat! Let go!” Sukuna grunts.

“You first!”

Sukuna makes the decision to let go with one hand so that he can tickle Yuuji’s side, in hopes of making his brother lose his grip. It works, but not in the way that he had hoped. The phone slips free of Sukuna’s fingers and Yuuji’s jerky movements are enough to send it falling and sliding acros the hardwood floor.

Naturally, Yuuji dives for it first, scrambling along the ground to grab it. He cheers in victory and flops down on his back, holding the phone above his face as he reads the name on the screen. Sukuna is quick to jump to his feet as he snatches the phone out of his brother’s hands. However, the damage is already done, judging by the confused look on his face.

Yuuji sits up, yelling after his brother's retreating figure. “Who the hell is Raisin boy?!"

#jjk #sukuna #sukufushi #yuji #rizzless sukuna #credit to nessieartss for yujis line at the end because we had a great conversation with that #echo writes #im realizing that megumi is a little like ooc in this with how invested he is with sukuna #but let me have this one dorky series alright #also sukuna is kinda ooc but im working on it

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iamthecomet · 1 year

Note

👋 im suffering at work please can i ask for any jealous mountian content? Please and thanks 🙏

Oh. Oh, of course you can.

Mountain doesn't know what's happening. Usually he enjoys watching his pack trade attention. Eyes trained to every small interaction like the voyuer he is. But more and more he's been feeling...something that doesn't feel right. Rain keeps sitting in Swiss' lap instead of his. Dew has glued himself in between Sunshine and Cumulus for the last week. Earlier he watched Cirrus shove Aether into a alcove to kiss him breathless.

Something that feels slick and cold uncurls in his chest, wakes up. Pokes at him. Nags at his brainstem. Feels like anger. Feels like need. How come no one is sitting in his lap, or shoving his face into the matress while they peg him, or shoving him into dark corners to feel him up? How come he has to listen to Aether and Dew fuck in the room next door while he's alone with his hand on his dick, trying not to be obvious about it when he cums all over his own knuckles to the sound of Dew falling apart. He hits his breaking point after a week. Sitting on the couch next to two of his packmates who can't seem to stop touching each other. Dew with his hand under the blanket and his fingers sunk into Sunshine's cunt. The ripe peach smell of her mingling with salty arousal. He shoves a pillow on his lap and tries to watch the movie--whatever it is. But how he is supposed to focus when he can hear Sunny's hitching breath? Can see Dew's arm shifting at the shoulder. His clothes feel too tight, skin on fire. He looks over at them. At the way Sunshine has her head on Dew's shoulder, not even pretending to watch the movie, her mouth working over his pulse.

He stands and grabs Dew by the hand resting on the couch's arm. He hauls him up and away from Sunshine, both squeaking in protest as Mountain drags Dew out of the room into his. He tosses Dew onto the bed without preamble and Dew bounces there, looking incredulous, fingers still dripping. "What the fuck?" Dew sputters. "What's your problem?" Mountain doesn't have the brain power to put words to it. Jealousy isn't a word he applies to himself. It doesn't feel like jealousy. He isn't jealous. He just wants. He wants something for himself. He's sick of watching everyone else fall all over each other and barely look at him. Sick of seeing them get off on each other but never him. He narrows his eyes at Dew. Breathes in through his nose and still smells Sunshine like she's in the room with them. Ok. Maybe he is jealous. He stalks over to the bed and Dew backs up, scurrying up the bed like he can get away. "What the fuck did I do? Why do you look like you want to--" Mountain grabs Dew's wrists and sucks his slick fingers into his mouth. The taste of Sunshine bursts over his tongue, underlaid by the metallic guitar string tang that always resides on Dew's fingers. Mountain's eyes flutter. Dew goes quiet. Staring at him with a slack jaw and painfully tight pants. Dew rises up onto his knees, shuffles forward, shoves his fingers a little deeper and Mountain groans. "Freak," Dew chides. "Could have just asked to eat her out." Mountain cracks his eyes open. Looks at Dew's flushed cheeks, his tented pants. He pulls off of Dew's fingers slowly, tongue flicking over the pads of them as he goes. "Don't want Sunny." Mountain licks up the length of Dew's palm, Dew watches the pass of his tongue--rapt. "Sure. Ok. Really seems like it--" Mountain shoves Dew backward, climbing onto the bed on top of him, shoving a thigh between his spread legs. He grinds his thigh against Dew's straining cock. Dew's eyes flutter closed his hips rolling. He groans. "You're jealous," Dew accuses. Mountain drags his nose up the line of Dew's throat, smelling Sunny's spit on his skin. Mountain could deny it--maybe would if he wasn't so fucking hard already. Mountain sinks his teeth into the mark Sunny had been worrying into Dew's neck, digging in until Dew yelps and grinds his hips harder against Mountain's thigh. "Been watching you fuck other people all week," Mountain growls, low, lips moving against Dew's pulse. "It's my turn."

#Comet Writes #Request #This started as headcanons and turned into this #Mountain/Dew #Sunshine/Dewdrop #Dewdrop Ghoul #Mountain Ghoul #Ghost fic #ghost fanfic #ghost fanfiction #Jealous Mountain #The band ghost fan fiction

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sallytwo · 1 year

Text

my coworker and I are stuck at this tiny diner that’s taken like one hour to make our subs (like a full hour) but they’re playing this Coast Guard movie on TV at full volume. which I thought at first was rescue swimmer top gun except I they just revealed this dramatic emotional crash with the main guys buddies and now im literally watching the plot of the first duty happen in real time. except it’s with the Coast Guard. we’re both staring slack-jawed at the screen watching the Coast Guard movie at diner in the middle of nowhere. it’s so awesome.

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firesofdainix · 1 year

Note

Hello I'm here to let you know that I'm very slowly making my way through reading the absolute giant that is phoenix and so far im fking loving it it's SO GOOD i cannotjehsjen

(also I'm subscribed to ur ao3 and was absolutely fucking SHOOK at the word count when i got the email and saw the first chapter 😭)

HAHAHA yes I shall feed on your tears and excitement!!! The word count is very long because my brain is working OVERTIME writing the damn thing so people can enjoy the niche I made just by watching a movie!!! I have to postpone the next chapter to July due to WIP scheduling, but let's hope everything goes well for these merry people!

(I also shook myself just looking at my word count, now that you say it...)

Anyways here's a little... something, as a treat!

SPOILERS IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THE BIG REVEAL OF CHAPTER 3 UNDER THE CUT!

Olivia becomes slack-jawed, looking at the screen in horror. "No."

"It's true," Lloyd replies with a shrug, keeping the grief and betrayal he feels underneath his mask of nonchalance. "It makes sense, if you think about it."

“It doesn’t,” Olivia snaps, but her face is filled with fear. Perhaps fear over the fact that she perceives the devil to be incarnated as Kai? “How can he be alive? We… we made sure he wouldn’t survive.”

Cole tries not to feel pissed at that sentence. He oh so wanted to shout at them, tell them that they have forsaken a good person for selfish gains.

“We live in a world where ghosts exist in the same plane as us,” Lloyd tells her gently, but still grimacing about the permanent touches Morro has left for him. His touch on his mind was so intimate he couldn’t think or talk about him without shuddering. “While it also took a lot of time for me to wrap my head around it, the evidence points to him being alive.”

“How?”

“Dark magic,” Garmadon says simply, all four arms behind him as he looks at the picture of Kai, and back at Red Carnage. He dares to ignore the implications that he created this situation, all because he was a megalomaniac and wanted the power he has always asked for. Now, he is not sure what he wants, and why he is so tense at confronting what is actually a young man for the murder he has committed. “Or a cloning.”

“He isn’t cloned,” Cole insists, as Olivia starts to panic, breaths rising and falling at a rapid pace. Her eyes are fixed on Kai’s smiling picture, associating him with the picture on the left, of a gruesome murderer, difficult to endure.

Olivia whips her head around to face her lord, tears forming in her eyes. “This is karma, Lord Garmadon.” Her voice was small and quiet, as the tears started streaming down her cheeks. “We have angered your father on the other side and he sent Kai back to the living to hunt us down.”

#ninjago #lego ninjago #kai smith #lloyd garmadon #chel answers #manji wips #uh oh! kai came back wrong au #morro ghosts spirits are brought up here a lot #but the main theme is revenge #also i just really like the idea of karmic retribution and the flummoxing idea that is vigilante killing #the FSM being a vengeful god is my favorite change in this world as well #cole brookstone #nya smith #lord garmadon #not to get political but kai as a villain doing villain things for the sake of being a villain is boring #that's what caused this fic to happen in the first place #an au i want to write where i have so much liberties while ripping off favorite pieces of media i like

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evie-sturns · 8 months

Text

𝑀𝑜𝓇𝑒 - 𝒞𝒽𝓇𝒾𝓈 𝒮𝓉𝓊𝓇𝓃𝒾𝑜𝓁𝑜

summary: you're at chris's house to hangout and watch a movie, but it ends in you riding him till he cant think.

warnings: smut, sub!chris, swearing

requested: yuup

-----------------------≪•◦ ❈. ◦•≫--------------------

me and chris have been together for a month or so, but we've never fucked. i mean, hes never really brought it up to me because he doesn't want to rush our relationship.

It's 8:30pm, and i'm approaching chris's front door for a movie night.

i knock 3 times softly on the front door and chris slowly opens it, his face lights up when he sees me.

"y/n! you look beautiful." he says giving me a hug and bringing me inside. hes wearing a white shirt and grey sweatpants, my heart drops as i see a slight dick imprint through his sweatpants.

"oh my god" i whisper to myself before i walk into his living room behind him, he jumps onto the couch and rests an arm on the headrest of the couch, signalling for me to come sit next to him.

"so what are we watching?" i say cuddling next to chris, resting my head on his chest.

he seems distracted by something, my eyebrows furrow "chris?" i repeat softly and he shakes his head quickly

"hm?" he says putting a pillow on his lap swiftly.

"you alright?" i say quietly as i flick through netflix, "y-yep yeah." he says frantically.

i put on a show and cuddle closer to chris, making myself comfortable, he squirms slightly before standing up off the couch. my cheeks flush as i see his lap, which now has a major tent on it.

hes hard.

he locks eyes with mine "im going to the bathroom" he says, droplets of sweat on his forehead form as he notices my eyes, fixed on his crotch. "chris.." i say slightly shocked as my eyes flicker from his dick to his eyes.

chris goes red as he stands looking at me with humilation spread on his face "shit sorry.." he mumble backing out of the living room.

"come back chris." i say staring at him and he walks slowly over to me in silence.

"sit down." i demand and he instantly does, he looks terrified and pissed with himself.

"sorry about you know.. that." he whispers "i can go fix it, just give me like 5 minutes, this is kind of embarrasing." he continues.

"dont be embarrased chris." i say palming his dick through his sweats, his breath hitches in his throat, his dick is pressing against the fabric practically begging to be realeased.

i squeeze his dick slightly through his pants making him throw his head back "please." he groans, lifting his hips into my hand. i sit up off the couch then kneel on the floor between his legs. he squirms as he whimpers "are you nervous." i tease, lifting his shirt up revealing his happy trail.

"do you touch yourself a lot chris?" i ask before licking a line from his belly button to the waistband of his sweats. "anwser me please." i say stopping all movements, making him moan lightly in desperation.

"sometimes." chris mumbles, covering his face. "how often." i question "every few days.." he lets out a shaky breath.

i slowly lower his sweatpants, revealing the base of his cock. he grips the pillow beside him "please y/n fuck.." he whines and i pull down the pants even more, his cock springs out onto his stomach and my eyes widen, hes big.

precum leaks out of his tip and down his length. the room is filled with his heavy breaths as i use the ends of my fingers to rub in the precum as a lube.

"chris, tell me what you want me to do."

"ride me please y/n, i cant.." he groans out and i nod, pulling my tanktop off of me and throwing it to the floor, my bra and shorts follow. chris's eyes are layed on me, "oh my fucking god your so beautiful" he whines.

i stand between his legs before sititng down on his thighs, straddling him. hes worked up. i decide to stop teasing and pull off my panties, his jaw slacks as his hair sticks to his forehead from sweat. i sit up slightly before moving up, positing myself above his tip.

i sink down, making chris moan lightly "fuck you're big." i groan as i sit down on his dick fully. "please keep going.." he whispers as he sinks his fingers into my waist.

after a few minutes of bouncing on his cock he starts to whimper "im so fucking close" he warns before cumming inside of me. "im sorry shit.." he says throwing his head back, instead of stopping i keep going at a quicker pace, overstimulating him "i cant.." he whines sinking his fingers further into my hips. hes already close again as i bounce faster and deeper.

without warning he releases again, deep in me. tears drop down his face from overstimulation and i quickly wipe them from his cheeks before finishing, letting out a soft but load moan.

i instantly pull off of him as he shakes, tears continue to slowly fall down his face. "dont cry, are you okay?" i say softly, sitting on the couch next to him. hes in utter shock. he nods as i pull him into a tight hug "that was alot.." he says shakily, but a small smirk plays at his lips. "i really liked it, you felt so good." he says embarrassed as i droop a leg over his thigh.

"chris." i say, my eyes widening.

"yeah..?"

"how the fuck are you hard again."

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#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #chris x reader

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onsunnyside · 2 years

Note

Idk if this idea has been mentioned already im a little behind on reading all the amazing asks and thots

So what if CL Steve decides to plan a date for legacy but of course this is Steve so there’s a twist.. so he uses the movie theatre on campus or wherever and convinces her they are watching some movie that legacy has been dying to see. So she goes to the theatre with Stevie… but when she gets there no one else is in the screening room

So she sits down with steve and the opening credits start rolling and the first thing it reads is:

“An Independent Film, Produced by Arcadia

Starring, up-and-coming major Legacy and the one and only Steve Rogers”

Stevies always wanted to see her on the big screen

OH MY GOODNESS ?? BESTIE THIS IS ABSOLUTELY PERFECT ! dark thots/spoilers/long drabble below:

this will be in the fic, I don't know when it will be set down the line, but:

It's at the campus theatre with the projection screen down and everything. He's been breaking you down everyday, and today as you watch the footage play, you blow up at him. Some crying and screaming, all of which Steve just shushes you softly between those familiar threats.

When you try to run away, he sweeps you into his arms, pressing you into the seats and forcing you to watch the scene: you're riding his face, filthily grinding onto his eager mouth. He drinks down your slick as it drips out of you.

With him pulling you onto his lap, the bulge tells you exactly how the movie was effecting him. You feel ashamed with your weakest moments plastered on the screen, your loud whines and Steve's muffled praises echoing off the walls.

He starts moving you against his clothed cock, one hand gripping your neck and the other wrapped around your waist, pinning you into his massive frame. "See that, baby? See how much you want me?"

You shut your eyes, trying to turn away but he forces your head forward. He scents you powerfully, your body falling slack as his fingers dip into your pants and underwear, slipping between your soaked folds.

Yet again, it felt like your body was against you—but at this point, you know the rest of you wants him too.

"You know, there are plenty of people who would pay good money to see this." His deep voice flows to your ears, his lips dragging along your jaw to your gland, he sucks hard and traces his fingers through your wetness, spreading it to your clit. "They'd fucking kill to watch a pretty omega like you get ruined by me. Look at you."

Your eyes flutter open because you actually want to see the sick movie. And you're crossed between horrified and awe: you're lying on the bed with your head hanging off the edge, Steve is spanking your poor pussy, ignoring your quivering thighs as he thrusts into your open mouth, his fat cock stretching your lips and making your jaw sore, saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth. Every lewd noise fills the room, wet gagging, choking, crying, it's all the soundtrack to Steve's dirty talk, "—that's it, filthy slut. Just a cockwhore in heat, huh? You want my knot—want me to fill your little cunt?"

On-screen you nods, or tries to with Steve's length stilled deep in your throat. He trails his wet hand up your body, pinching your nipples before caressing your neck, "I can see myself inside you, sweet girl. Doing so good for me—you're gonna be covered in me by the time we're done. And you're never going to want to leave."

"See? You love what I can do to you." He presses one thick finger into your cunt, pumping it in and out, "Making you into my perfect little omega, you didn't even see the camera, huh?"

You sniffle, shaking your head as he yanks up your shirt, massaging your breasts.

"But you're thankful I filmed it, huh? Our first heat together, you let me have you any way, even woke me up with a blowjob, do you remember that?"

"Y-Yes..." You do, and you don't know how to feel.

Steve slips another finger into you, skillfully scissoring his digits. "Yeah, then you rode my cock until you squirted all over me. Do you remember what happened next?"

You dig your nails into his forearm, slowly starting to grind against his hand. "Was on my hands and knees... y-you were behind me."

He groans. "Good girl, bet that's the last thing you remember, huh?"

You shakily nod, your lips quivering as he stretches you open.

"You were a fucking mess after that. Crying for me whenever I moved away—but I took care of you, didn't I? Daddy helped you through your heat, giving you everything you needed. I even cleaned you up after each time." Steve grunts as you start riding his hand, mimicking the screen that displayed you bouncing on his cock, drool dripping from your swollen lips as he groped your ass. "Good news is I've already got a sequel planned since my rut is in a few weeks."

#well then #this is a massive spoiler #and I could have kept it to myself #oh well #captains legacy ask #captains legacy drabble #captains legacy: thots #captains legacy: idea #marvelmenwhore<3

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sorryjustafangirl · 3 years

Note

☀️ prompt #10 and cale makar please ❣️

hiiii so sorry for the wait!!! but i finally did my favourite trope (fake dating) and of course with our veggie lover boy so i really hope you enjoy <3 and i deffffinetly got carried away with this (it's like 1.8k), im so sorry!

prompt: “So… did you know that all our friends have a bet going that we end up together?”

“So....did you know that all our friends have a bet going that we end up together?” You asked him, as you entered your apartment together. Cale had invited you, his best friend, to the Avs’ home game against Tampa, but the two of you had opted to go home instead of out to a bar like everyone else. Movie nights were a staple from early on in your friendship, and were something you both looked forward to after tiring games.

When he didn’t answer your question, you turned to face him and saw him scratching the back of his neck, his cheeks already a deep red. You gasped.

“You knew? Why didn’t you say anything?”

He shrugged his arms up as if to say ‘I don’t know’. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I don’t know, it’s not like it’s happening so why bother, you know? They’re just being dumb.”

“No, yeah, you’re totally right. We’re just best friends, they just need to get that through their heads,” You said, sitting down beside him on the couch. You tossed a blanket onto his toes, because they tend to get cold, and grabbed one for yourself.

“Exactly. Now, Fantastic Mr. Fox or The Grand Budapest Hotel?” He said, picking up the remote.

The topic of this stupid bet didn’t come up again until a couple weeks later when Gabe hosted a dinner party. The subtle teasing had bugged you all night and you could see that it was starting to get to Cale too. He stumbled over his words more and his cheeks were constantly red. At one point, you had resorted to holding Lucas in the spare room so you could get away from it all only to have Mel corner you and pester you about when you were ‘going to open your eyes and see you love him’.

“Our friends are absolutely stupid, Tyson pulled me aside today and wondered when we were going to get together because the pot has gone up to $500 and he wants to go away for the weekend. Like at this point, we should just say we’re together to get that cash,” You said as you entered your apartment after the party. You’d decided on another movie night, not spending a lot of time at the party since everyone was cornering you both to conspire a relationship.

“I mean, it would get the guys off my back at practice…” Your jaw went slack as you watched him mull the possibility of getting together to stop his teammates, and he must’ve seen it because he was quick to reassure you. “We wouldn’t have to actually get together, we could just tell them we’re together and they’d have to stop harassing us, right?”

“So…like a fake relationship?”

He nodded. “How hard could it be?”

Every romance novel you’d read told you this would’ve been hard. Hard to keep up appearances, hard to remember to plaster on a love-sick face, hard to separate the feelings of platonic and romantic. But, really, it wasn’t.

It felt surprisingly normal to walk into a party with his hand in yours. Normal for him to protect you from all the chirps that EJ and Gabe made when you told everyone you were together. Normal to have his hand rest just above your hip. Normal for some of his really cheesy one-liners that he slipped when one of the WAGs was within earshot to make your cheeks heat up every single time, even if your heart knew that he was just pretending. Sure, the occasional kiss to your cheek or temple were something to get used to, but other than that it wasn’t like much had changed in your relationship. Conversation still flowed like a river, you still made him laugh more than he would ever admit, and he still knew exactly how to put a smile on your face.

At home games, you sat in the family box with all the other significant others and their kids, little Linnea in your lap. You were talking to her about her stuffed bunny when Mel approached with two people in tow. Linnea made grabby-hands for her mom and you easily handed her over, as she introduced you to the people behind her.

“These are Cale’s parents, Gary and Laura,” She said and immediately you reached your hand out to shake theirs. She gave you a subtle wink before leaving, her daughter tugging on her arm.

“Oh my gosh, hi, it’s so nice to meet you. I’m Y/n, Cale’s uh… partner, I guess?” You trailed off. You didn’t know what he had told his parents about your…situation and didn’t want to overstep.

“You sound unsure about that,” His dad chuckled, but you could hear the defensiveness in his words.

“It’s just– the label..is new.” You gulped. The last thing you needed was for everyone to realize your facade because you couldn’t keep it together in front of his family.

“Oh, well I wouldn’t worry about that. That boy has been in love with you for months,” His mom said, sending you a wink.

“What?” You laughed nervously, taken aback. You’d only proposed the fake relationship idea a couple weeks ago. “Me?”

“Well, unless you know of another Y/n, it’s definitely you,” She laughed again, and started to say something else, but the buzzer sounded and you made a quick escape to watch the game. But even throughout the tight Avs-Vegas game, you couldn’t stop her words bouncing around in your head. There was no way that Cale, sunshine and puppies personified, was in love, and especially not with you. You were just friends. Best friends, sure, but that’s always where it had stayed.

You couldn’t fool yourself and say you have never thought about what a real relationship with him would be like, but you hadn’t allowed yourself the luxury of actually engaging with that fantasy. You were just Cale’s best friend, there was no way he would look at you like you were more than anything else, not when he had girls throwing themselves at him left and right, his status as one of Denver’s beloved hockey stars working for him.

You were waiting downstairs for Cale to come out of the dressing room when you pulled Laura aside.

“Earlier, you said that Cale’s been…in love with me? For months? What do you mean by that?”

“Oh, honey, simple. He talks about you all the time. He told us all about that last paper you wrote, the one that got the A? He was so proud of you, he talked our ears off about it. Every conversation, he finds a way to connect you to it but doesn’t ever realize that he’s brought you up all the time. It seems to come naturally. And there’s a pint of mint chocolate ice cream in his freezer that I know isn’t for him, but I’m willing to bet it’s for you.” Your stunned silence was enough confirmation for her. She just smiled and shrugged. “He smiles more when you’re around or he talks about you. He just… he seems happier. Lighter, even, like the whole league isn’t watching his every move. Does that make sense?”

You shallowly nodded and gave her a strained smile, and was thankfully saved by Cale coming out of the room, pulling his parents into hugs and saying goodbye, before nudging you to go back to his car with him.

You thought about all of Laura’s words as Cale drove back to his place. Was she right? She is his mom, she’s known him his whole life. Of course, she was right, but was she right about this? You couldn’t stand to lose him.

You weren’t usually this quiet after a game, and you knew that Cale knew that with the amount of glances he was giving your way when he was stopped at a red light or stop sign. It wasn’t until you both had settled in his apartment that you finally said what had been on your mind.

“I feel really guilty lying to your mom,” you blurted.

“What?”

“She thinks that we are in this absolutely perfect relationship and that you’re in love with me! And have been for months? I just don’t want to break her heart when we finally stop our agreement.” He didn’t say anything after that, forcing your brain to go into overdrive. “And like, what about everyone else? I have had to listen to Mel and Kerry and all the other significant others gush about how we finally got our heads out of our asses and how we’re so cute and they’re giving me advice like I’m one of them, but I’m not! But they don’t know that, and it’s going to crush them when they find out this was all fake! It’s going to crush-”

The word ‘me’ died on your lips.

You hadn't even realize you'd fallen for him until that moment when you thought about what losing him might mean. Not losing him as a friend (Cale was too good a person to just shut you out) but losing everything you'd gained in the past few weeks. The things that we just for you -- the shy touches in the crowded room, the roadie FaceTime calls opposed to texts, being the one to greet him in the tunnel, whether after a five-point game or not. You don't think you could take that sort of rejection from him, not your Cale.

He made his way over to you, stopping close enough for you to differentiate the shades of blue in his eyes. His hand brushed against yours before slowly intertwining your fingers with his. “None of this is fake to me.”

“It’s-it’s not?” He bit his lip and slowly shook his head. Your eyes met his and you saw a mix of hope and endearment, something you realized he gave you often.

Or least you hoped it was because you took it as your cue to rush forward and press your lips to his. When he didn’t make any movements, you quickly pulled away, but that seemed to break whatever daze he was in because he pulled you right back, pressing his lips against yours, his free hand cupping your cheek. This wasn’t the Cale you normally saw - reserved and humble – no, he was kissing you like it was the last thing he’d get to do on this Earth.

When you both broke for air, he rested his forehead against yours and you had to bite your lip to stop the smile on your face from spreading.

“So, we could have been dating this whole time? Like for real?” You asked him, watching the way he was smiling and how a small laugh escaped him.

“Maybe our friends were right, about having that bet.”

“Oh no, we are not telling them that, we’ll never hear the end of it. As far as they know, we’ve been dating for a month, yeah?”

“Happy anniversary then,” He said, before pulling you back in for another kiss.

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#abby's 200 #cale makar blurb #cale makar imagine #nhl blurb #nhl imagine #colorado avalanche blurb #colorado avalanche imagine #cale makar #abby writes #hopefully it's still good even if it's longer than you imagined <3

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free-pool-trash · 4 years

Text

lip gloss - peter maximoff

Request: Hello! I absouletly love your writing❤️❤️ I was wondering if I could ask for something steamy with Peter Maximoff. I’m not sure how steamy you feel comfortable writing for, but if you do smut can peter have a praising kink and be kinda cocky. If you doing write smut can I request a make out session with WandaVision Peter, like Pete and reader are the only ones home and things get spicy on the kitchen counter. Thank you so much for writing!!

hi anon!!!! Thank you so much 🥺❤️ can i just say i love both of these concepts and i absolutely think that peter has a the biggest praise kink but due to the fact that im a fat ✨virgin✨ im gonna do the second option for now!!! I’ll work on the other one and see how it goes though 👀👀👀

word count: 1.2K

warnings; this is a lil steamy but it’s not quite smut, making out, insinuations of sexy times <3

masterlist

WestView was your typical suburban town. Quiet, uneventful and perfectly boring. That was, until he arrived.

Pietro-or Peter- Maximoff. He was the exact opposite of the town he’d just strolled into. The boy was loud, fast paced and oh so very exciting.

His sister, Wanda, was a good friend of yours. You’d known her since you literally couldn’t remember when and when Peter showed up, the pair of you clicked instantly, fitting together like two puzzle pieces. Almost as if some celestial force had put the pair of you together on purpose.

It was a fairly standard Tuesday night in the Maximoff household. Wanda and Vision were out for their weekly date night, leaving yourself and Peter, as he insisted he preferred to be called, to babysit the twins.

The two young boys absolutely adored their uncle, he never ceased to impress them with his speed and childlike behaviour, but that wasn’t to say that the speedster could outdo you though.

You’d been babysitting the boys since they’d seemingly manifested out of nowhere and they loved you, it’d become a competition between you and Peter to see who Billy and Tommy preferred at any given moment.

But with competition came a lot of tension. There was nothing you enjoyed more than pushing Peter’s buttons and in his eyes there was nothing sweeter than watching your jaw clench after he got on your very last nerve.

At the moment the four of you were snuggled up in the living room watching a movie on the fuzzy square screen, boxy TV set. Tommy sat on the floor, close to the TV while yourself, Peter and Billy were cozy on the sofa. Billy had snuggled into your side, his head resting against your stomach and his little eyes becoming droopy as the movie drew to a close. Peter sat on the other side of his nephew, his arm resting on the back of the couch and his eyes set on you and the shyer twin. You looked so domestic, your eyes trained on the tv while your arms held the young boy securely against you. Peter didn’t know why but he felt a slight pang of jealousy toward Billy in that moment, god what he’d give to have your arms wrapped around him.

The cogs in Peter’s head turned slowly as an idea formed in his head, a sly grin making its way to his lips. Casually, he dropped his arm from the back of the couch and let it rest against your shoulders. The grin only broadened when you turned to look at him, your eyebrow raised, your own lips formed into an almost knowing smirk. You were driving him insane. Without so much as a word, you turned your attention back to the tv, completely ignoring the fact that the speedster had begun tracing shapes against your arm. He was driving you crazy but you’d never let him know that, disregarding the fluttering feeling in your stomach when his fingers walked up and down the skin of your arm.

Thankfully, the movie ended after a few more minutes and Peter had taken on the grewling task of putting the twins to bed while you cleaned up in the kitchen. You were wiping down the kitchen island when Peter walked in, leaning his body against the counter opposite, his signature cheeky look adorning his face.

“I think Billys got a crush on you. Looks like I’ve got some competition.” He told you somewhat airly, his mind too focused on the way your body was leaning over the counter as you moved the cloth against the counter top and he contemplated what it would be like to be pressed up behind you in that moment.

The small giggle that left your lips shook him from his thoughts that were growing dirtier by the second, “What? Is someone getting a little jealous?” You asked teasingly, jutting your lip out into a pout. His eyes watched you intently as you made your way around the kitchen island, when you were within arms reach of Peter you hopped up on the counter, admittedly enjoying how utterly zoned in on you his eyes were.

“Cat got your tongue, Maximoff?” You prodded when he remained silent. At your words he stepped forward and placed his hands on both of your knees, gently pushing them apart and stepping into the space he just created between your legs. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, trying your best to ignore the heat that was rising within you when his hands slid from your knees, all the way up your thighs until they finally settled on gripping your hips.

With a wicked grin your let your arms slide around his neck, pulling him flush against you, Peter let out a heavy groan that had your stomach doing flips. The man in question ghosted his lips against your jaw, slowly dragging them up painfully slowly, only stopping once they were hovering against your ear.

“You’ve been driving me crazy, y’know that?” As soon as the words passed his lips, his attention had returned to your jaw. He was placing wet, open mouth kisses along your jaw, moving smoothly to your neck as he simultaneously pulled you closer by the hips, his crotch pressing against yours as you let out a quiet moan.

Moving your hands to his silver hair you gave the strands a soft tug, pulling another groan from his lips and forcing him to look you in the eye. His usually gentle eyes were darkened with lust and the way he gazed at you made the hair at the back of your neck stand and your stomach to drop with anticipation. “Kiss me.” You demanded, staring at him with the same lustful gaze he was giving you.

Peter practically lunged at you then, his lips crashing against yours for a bruising kiss, his tongue quickly finding its way into your mouth and you let of a slight gasp of approval when his hands squeezed your ass, the speedster pulling your legs to wrap around his waist as he kissed you desperately.

You couldn’t help but whine when he suddenly pulled away, his hands running up and down your sides adoringly as he took in your flushed cheeks and disheveled hair. “You’re gorgeous.” He stated, so sure of himself that it caused a bright smile to pull across your swollen lips.

“So are you,” You giggled back, brushing your thumb against his bottom lip and turning it to show him the lip gloss that had transferred onto him during the searing kiss you just shared, “This colour looks pretty on you, Pete.” You teased, shooting him a wink as he raised an eyebrow at you, pulling you impossibly closer as he whispered his next words as if he just knew they’d have you crumbling at his feet.

“How about when Wanda gets back… you and I head back to your place and see how pretty that lip gloss of yours would look smeared all over somewhere other than my lips?” His eyebrows moved suggestively and his lips formed a shit eating grin when your mouth fell slack at his suggestion.

All you knew was that Wanda couldn’t get home soon enough.

#peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff #peter maximoff imagine #wandavision #wandavision spoilers

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