#no words can describe how much i love that hair

[rose-maidenn]

🌬PAC : Your most appealing sensual qualities :-

Pile 1 :

Hii loves how are you doing?

For you I get that you know exactly how to make a person wait for something be it , your attention, your favours or your time , I get the word void for you , staying with you puts people in a state or rest or in a new world it's like you surround them with maya , it's so beautiful, be it is case of friendships or relationships you show people how worthy you are , ik nowadays how people admire nonchalance but most have got it all wrong , your way is beautiful you know how to read the room and gives them the exact amount of attention .

The way you brush your hairs in the middle of the conversation from your face is very attractive , people see your hair for hair inspo btw it's very voluminous and shiny , you remind me of the old celtic women with wavy hair, such beauty .

Moreover people really like when you wear clothes showing your waist and the way you move is very attractive it's hypnotic even , I won't be shocked if you said you learn dance because girl you're attracting the attention damn .

You're one of those people who attract attention without saying much and that is so so rare and you embody rare how stunning are youuu!!!!!!

Pile 2 :

Heyyy ,how's everything going ?

Your eyes damn those eyes , you know that they kill and you use them well angel . Your hands are very observed by other people the movement of your hands , your nails , I will not be shocked if you said you learnt mudras or reiki . I think you can easily read people's energy just by touching them. Wanna know something honey you need to be really careful about the things you say because you easily manifest . I wish all the good comes to you.

Your diction and hold on various languages and accent is very admired , the way you pronounce and the certain raspy tone to your voice is very sensual to most people it's like you're luring them in . Your anger Is so admired by many people because there's a way you fight for the causes the passion is seen in your actions and that is so attractive .

People are in awe of your thinghs I'm not even kidding , they imagine sleeping on them , they would like to see you in a sexy garter belt like damn , your skin is super shiny as well , random but I remembered coco oil by victoria's secret , maybe you should try that , your soft skin is adored by many people .

You have a luminous glow to yourself like the moon , I can't describe well but it's beautiful you're like a old Hollywood glamour queen , damn your auraaaaaa!!!!!!

Thank you so much for reading🫶✨️ , dm me if you wanna book with me 🎀 kiss kiss ♥️

[demonsslayersstuff]

Goodbye (Gojo x Reader)

A/N: This a reposting. I was having some issues with my blog for the past few weeks, so I will be doing some reposting.

A/N: I’m in a Gojo mood apparently. Anyway Jujitsu Kaisen Manga Spoilers, so keep that in mind before reading. Bit angsty cause I’m just in that mood. Thanks for reading! As I’ve said before I’ve been having a bit of a writers block so I’m not sure when I’ll post again, but I’m leaning towards Demon Slayer for the next one.

The room was silent that morning. Aside from the steady breathing off to your left, there was no noise. You glance at the clock and your heart freezes at the date, December 24th. It was the day you had dreaded for the past month.

But time moved forward as it always does, no matter how much you pleaded to a nonexistent god to stop it. You can feel tears gather in your eyes, but you push them away. You had already said your goodbyes last night, mapped out each other’s bodies for the most likely the last time.

You hear a deep intake of breath and know that he’s waking up. Gojo’s blue eyes open and lock onto your own. The two of you stare at each for a moment as the reality of what day it was washes over him. “Love”, he starts but you shake your head. “Please, I don’t want to cry, not now”, you tell him quietly. He hums in response before moving to kiss you deeply, arms wrapping tightly around you, crushing you against him.

The two of you dress quietly, preparing for what was about to happen. You look out the window and briefly wonder if this will be the last morning you’ll ever get to spend in this room. You watch as a bird flies past the window before you feel Gojo wrap his arms around your waist as he rests his chin on your shoulder. “I never appreciated this view as much as I should have”, he murmurs against your neck.

You turn around to fully face him, knowing it was going to be last time the two of you spent alone together. “Satoru”, you start quietly. He looks down at you, giving a soft smile of encouragement. “Words can’t describe the happiness you have given me. I just want you to know that…no matter what happens, I will always love you”, you tell him. His eyes soften and he pulls you into a tight embrace. He holds you in his arms before there’s a light tap on the door.

He cups your cheek, “It’s time”, he simply says. You greet Utahime at the door, before the three of you begin the descent down the stares. Your students and various sorcerers look up at you and Gojo, empathy and respect reflected in their eyes. Yuji is the first to break the tension, “Sensei, your technique is in the way”, he shouts. You watch as Gojo gives him a large smile before he says , “Give it your best shot”, with a smile on his face. He always put his students needs first.

Everyone makes the trek into the city as silence befalls the group. The full weight of what was about to happen evident on everyone’s faces. You watch as Gojo goes to stand with Ijichi, Utahime, and Gakunganji. The time was finally here. You walk up to Gojo for the finale time, staring up into his eyes as tears gather in your eyes. The others look away, giving you a bit of privacy. You feel Gojo’s fingers brush the tears away that silently fall on your cheek.

“You have what I gave you in case I-“, he starts but you cut him off, not wanting to hear those words fall from his lips. “Yes”, you say, voice cracking. “I love you, I will always love you. I will find you again if I have to, I promise”, Gojo says, voice full of emotion. You nod your head before he pulls you into a crushing kiss. You thread your fingers through his hair, as his hands grip your waist tightly.

He ends the kiss after someone coughs politely, but you don’t let him go just yet.  You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close. “Get our son back”, you tell him before letting him go. You see determination flash across his face. “I will”, Gojo says before he kisses you one finale time.

You watch as the group takes the stairs to the top of the building. Gojo pauses at the top for just a moment before turning to look at you. He gives you his signature smile and a second later he’s gone. “Goodbye Toru”, you whisper before heading to join the others as the battle begins.

[andiamofratello]

[wyllsravengard]

eight years in november and somehow i do not love him any less and i cannot imagine ever falling out of love either

[screampied]

Full Nelson with big bf Sukuna?🥺 One where gf is all giddy and coy about asking him & he’s so big he can pull your hair far back enough to give you a kiss from arching you it’s rough but she’s like ‘I love you I love you ‘Kuna you’re the best boyfriend I love you<3’

❤︎ ໋𓈒 doing the full nelson position with big bf sukuna

warnings. fem! reader, full nelson, praise, dirty talk, unprotected, size diff / manhandling, mdni.

big bf! sukuna who adores comparing how small you are to him - a simple gaze looking down at you and it only fuels his ego even more.

you were so cute, so it’s much to his surprise when you suggest to him a new position you wanted to try.

“heh. silly little girl,” he scoffs, you’re propped up all comfortable on his lap whilst trying to describe the position with hand visuals for him. sukuna leans back, bulky crossed arms and a near pout on his lips as he listened to you. “full…nelson? that means i’ll have to hold you up. can you even handle that? be honest.”

“i can or i wouldn’t be asking,” you pout, leaning in to kiss underneath his chin. sukuna remains still—yet its like he was staring right into your soul. he brings a hand towards your hip before a small smile spreads against his lips at your cheeky confidence. “pretty please?”

“…fine,” sukuna grumbles, and you let off an abrupt gasp once he makes you face the other way—you feel his arms wrap around you. he leans further back before he grabs onto your thighs, an attempt to align himself. “hold on to me. ‘m gonna have fun stretchin’ you like this, princess.”

“don’t drop me, ‘kuna,” you moaned, feeling him grip tightly underneath your thighs. a thumb of his strokes against your skin before his leaky tip prods against your aroused entrance.

you were already so soaked . . . probably due to the fact he was eating you out hours on end just a few minutes ago.

sukuna grouses. “woman relax, i got you,” and you’d only then realize how lewd this particular position was. as your back was pressed against his chest, the curse nearly has your legs in a tight lock. he was so strong. handling you like this, making you bend just a bit. once he starts to bury himself into you, you bite down on your lip. “mhm. jus’ like that, lay back on me ‘n let me do all the work.”

he’s barely in and you already feel full, his tip was nice and fat — plump, a few droplets of his pre-cum coated near your entrance as he’s sinking into your pussy.

his girth made an appearance, easily stretching you out further.

“f-fuckkk,” you’d whine, both hands idly stiff beside you. it felt so good. too good. sukuna was trying to go slow, he knew he’d probably break you if he didn’t. the size difference, it never failed to make him amused.

sukuna kisses his teeth, feeling you grip all around him. his head briefly goes back, and he squeezes your thigh. “gonna feel me reach everywhere, princess. you want that?”

“y-yes,” you’d mewl out, inch after inch you started to feel more stuffed with his cock. he was purely thick. such length to him, it almost had you drooling. tongue salivating, lips parting and all. you were panting, starting to rub against his arm as your head went back. “more ‘kuna. don’t s-stop. wanna feel you.”

“aw. ya wanna feel me?” he repeats, mocking your sweet tone. it was quite embarrassing, yet you were too full of dick to comprehend his words. it hasn’t even been that long and you just knew you weren’t gonna last. sukuna was gonna snatch yet another orgasm out of you within a blink of an eye.

and you couldn’t wait.

sukuna lifts you up with burly arms, low grunts flying past his lips. once he’s fully in—deeply buried into your cunt, he makes you start to bounce on him. a cute abashed gasp comes from you, and he’s slow and steady at first. he kept his word, securely keeping your body in place.

“so cute like this,” he murmurs in a husky tone. you moan, feeling sukuna playfully tug back on your hair. even with stuffing inches into you, he still found the time of day to tease you. you always let him. you never necessarily minded.

“always—always know how to take me. good fuckin’ messy girl,” and he was so close up to your ear. muttering the filthiest things to make you even more sopping wet for him. “dunno why ya didn’t suggest this position to me earlier.”

“thought you were gonna tease me,” you gasp once he drags a hand down between your legs. you were soaking. it was quite a sight, he starts to maneuver circles against your clit with one hand before giving it a brief spank. “s-sukunaaa.”

“maybe,” he groans, and he’s just got you stupid.

he’s got you stupidly jerking back and forth against him with your mouth all open. straight dumbfounded. the perfect word to describe you.

you briefly crane your neck to glance back at him and he’s giving you a sly grin. “my oh my, such a sloppy girl i got myself here. can barely hold herself up so i gotta do it for her, hm . . ?”

your head went back and back against him whilst you’re being stretched to the very limit. it was an entire mess. the way your pussy sang lewdly in harmony. squelches, pretty pitched squelches that always drive sukuna crazy. each squelch rang throughout your ears.

you continued to repeat his name, barely able to murmur out a coherent word. oh, it was adorable. by this point, you were just straight up babbling.

sukuna’s cock hit you deep, extremely.

pumping you full of his entire length . . every inch again and again and again. those eyes of yours, practically cross crossed and dilated.

as he held your thighs up, your mouth was just simply agape, maw dropped at how good he’s drilling into your cunt.

“o-oh my goddd,” you’d whimper, and he gets closer and closer to thrashing against your sweet g-spot. “kunaaa, i- i love you,” you hiccup. and he chuckles, it was so random. your breathing became more and more erratic before you mewl out cute cacophonies of, “i- i love you, love you ‘s much. make me feel so good, ‘k-kuna.”

“praise me more, girl.” he hums, a raspy chuckle leaving the back of his throat. he was obviously joking but he did enjoy the sound of your voice.

especially at moments like this, moments where it’d be a tad pitch higher, bringing you closer and closer towards your incoming release. sukuna grabs you by the neck with a free hand, gently turning you to pull you into a kiss.

you moan, craning your head yet again to make a cute attempt at kissing back. “needy baby,” he utters, making you depart before kissing you again, then one more time, and another. “i love you too, brat.”

his hefty base hits against you profusely, time and time again. you’re dizzy, head spinning, heart racing. a plethora of emotions. yet, your breathing starts to pick up over time. he’s ramming his thick cock into you before you start moaning. “getting close ‘kuna, f-fuck ‘s gooddd.”

grunting, he huffs out a, “me too,” and his voice was dangerously low. you were drenched, heaving against his chest. he’s lifting you up and down his cock — by now, you’re facing the other way and sukuna playfully wraps an arm around your neck. you’re in a safe head lock, and he chuckles lowly against your ear. “fuckin’ make a mess on me. give it to me ‘n don’t make me beg, princess.”

you whine, feeling him reach down to spank your pussy again.

the loud squelches, so moist…

the entire noise reverberated across the entire room, sounds of your pussy hitting back against him in sync. he loved more than anything to play between your legs.

pressure continues to build up and up and up, arising perfectly. from sukuna holding up your legs, you clench and unclench around him. you don’t even realize how much you’re starting to drool — it was a sight. he scoffs, bringing a hand to cup your chin. “messy girl. droolin’ all for some cursed cock. ya like this position don’t you?”

you nod, an eager cute nod and he chuckles. sukuna feels himself approaching close too. really close. he groans, feeling you take him in with such ease. your cunt had him whipped, so warm and the perfect fit. his thrusts started to become sloppy and he bites near the inner part of your neck. you whine, feeling the softness of his canines collide against your sweet skin.

a bundle of nerves ran its course all over your body, you felt shivers run past you before you whine. “g-gonna cum. ‘kuna ‘m gonna—.”

sukuna ends up cumming at the same time as you, it was a lot. perhaps a lot was an understatement though.

whenever he came, it was so much. you weren’t even sure if it would stay inside of you. majority of the time, it didn’t. thick velvety ropes of his cum would run down your thighs and he’s pout whenever he sees it coming to waste.

he’s huffing and puffing, filling up your pussy and he slows his rhythm down—you catch your breath, feeling absolutely stretched to the max before he intakes a sharp breath, exhaling afterwards. you just sat there for a while, leaned back against the curse with a dumb smile on your face.

“…you love me?” you utter, feeling him loosen his grip on your body.

“shut up.”

[nereidprinc3ss]

light of the morning

in which spencer sneaks into bau!reader's hotel room and they share a little more than just the bed

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: softdom!spence x sub reader, munch!spence, unprotected piv sex (dont do that), creampie (hate that word btw) praise, mentions of having to be quiet because morgan is right next door LOL, fluffy, established co-workers/friends with benefits, soooo idiots in love a/n: here is the promised smut. i am literally kicking my feet and twirling my hair and giggling and blushing at my own writing. I'm gonna have a freak out. requests are open like my legs

It’s late when the knock finally comes. Late enough that you’re dozing on the bed above the covers. 

It takes you a moment to reorient yourself—you’re rubbing your heavy eyes when you finally get the door. 

"Hi."

"Hey," says Spencer, hands awkwardly shoved into his pajama pants pockets. It’s funny, really. He never gets any better at this. 

You step aside and he enters the room, looking around as you close and relock the door. 

"Did I wake you?"

"How could you tell?"

"You’re in pajamas. And you look tired. I mean—you don’t look bad. You never look bad, I just meant… you don’t look tired but you’re not—I didn’t mean to—"

"Relax," you yawn, putting him out of his misery. "I was joking. I know I look tired." You glance at the digital clock on the nightstand. "It’s late. We have to be up early tomorrow."

"Yeah, I got, uh, sidetracked. Sorry."

He was reading. If it was anyone else, you'd be offended--but a sinkhole could open up under Spencer's feet and he probably wouldn't notice if he was absorbed in a book.

You shrug, a knowing smile lifting the corner of your mouth. 

"It’s fine. But I don’t know if tonight is a good night. I really am exhausted."

His eyebrows dart up. 

"That’s fine. That’s totally fine. I’ll just, uh—"

When you don’t move from in front of the door, he pauses, unsure. You bite the inside of your cheek, studying his rangy frame and choice of clothing. Blue pajama pants, slippers, grey CalTech zip up hoodie. It feels wrong to describe a 6'1 man as adorable, but that’s how he looks in his sleep clothes. There’s a very real chance, you find yourself thinking, that you are the only member of the BAU to ever see him in something other than slacks and a button-down. He looks so cozy that you kind of really want him in your bed even if he’s not doing anything but sleeping. The invitation slips out before you can think too hard about it. 

"You could… stay, anyway, if you want?"

His mouth parts slightly, and those eyebrows raise again. There’s a moment of awkward silence and you are very much beginning to regret your offer, wondering if you somehow violated the sanctity of your co-workers/friends with benefits situtationship. Clumsily you try to backtrack. 

"Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, you can—"

"No, no! You didn’t, I just don’t want you to feel obligated to invite me to stay in your room. I’m right across the hall, I can go back if you want me to."

You smile awkwardly, silent relief replacing the brief anxiety. 

"It’s fine. It’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before." And not like you wouldn’t have ended up doing it tonight anyway, if things had gone as originally intended.

He chuckles, looking to the floor and nodding. The blush on his face does not go unnoticed by you. "Fair enough."

It’s incredibly endearing how nervous he still gets after six months of this little arrangement. 

"Do you wanna get your stuff, or…"

"No, that’s okay. I’ll just go back early tomorrow. The chances of someone seeing me leave your room are significantly higher if I do it so soon after entering."

You squint, unable to tell if he’s fucking with you or if that’s an actual statistically sound probability. And then you realize, blissfully, that you don’t really care. 

"Okay, well. Make yourself comfortable. I’m just going to brush my teeth."

Once you’re enclosed in the bathroom, hotel vanity lights blinding you as you brush, you find that there is a jittery sort of apprehension buzzing in your chest. But that’s silly. As you yourself pointed out, the two of you have shared a bed many times over the past few months. But the sleeping together is always a byproduct of the sleeping together. Never have you shared a bed in a completely decent, virtuous, strictly non-sexual manner. It’s always been a matter of convenience—less bother if he doesn’t have to worry about sneaking back into his room in the middle of the night when you’re both exhausted. Or maybe that’s just what you’ve been telling yourselves. 

You rinse your mouth out and exit the bathroom, flicking off the light and finding that Spencer has indeed made himself comfortable. The hotel room is dark and he’s already under the covers, fiddling with his phone. 

"What time should I set the alarm for?" He asks, looking over at you as you crawl into bed, drawing the covers over yourself. "I was thinking 6:23. That should give me enough time to—"

"Sounds perfect," you affirm, wiggling under the blanket as you get comfortable. He schedules the alarm and sets his phone on the bedside table, dousing the room in complete darkness. Your eyes stay open despite, waiting for them to adjust. A few moments of utter silence and stillness pass, and you can tell Spencer is completely stiff next to you. 

"Spencer."

“Yeah,” he answers immediately. Like he’s even more wired about this whole situation than you are. 

"You know you don’t have to avoid touching me at all costs, right? I’m not a leper."

He looses a nervous laugh. 

"I know. We’ve just never really done this."

You frown at the darkness.

"We’ve definitely slept in the same bed before."

"Yeah, but… this feels different."

That, you can’t argue with. Can friends with benefits share a bed just to be near each other? Does that blur some line? And why does it feel more intimate than the sex? 

Screw it. If there is one thing you don’t want your relationship with Spencer to be, it is uncomfortable. Uncertain, you can work with. But not uncomfortable. You reach for him, hand sliding under the duvet—and find his hand already waiting for yours. 

"I don’t think it’s that different," you lie, interlacing your fingers together slowly. 

"Prolonged physical non-sexual contact does have measurable health benefits…" the words are murmured, like the moment is fragile and he doesn’t want to shatter it. 

"Can’t argue with the facts," you breathe, trying to modulate the shakiness of your voice. But you have a feeling you’re doing about as good of a job at concealing your nerves as he is. He shifts.

"Can I…"

"Yeah."

Your heart is pounding as he slips one arm under your neck and the other around your waist, pulling you close. Instinctually you curl into him, slinging your top leg over him as you’ve done before, but always dismissed as post-sex brain chemicals making you feel all warm and fuzzy. A neurological reaction that is so solidly scientific, neither of you ever questioned it. But it feels bigger now. 

He exhales as you settle against each other—a sound of relief that mirrors your own. He’s so warm, so safe as he envelops you, physically and sensorially. In such close proximity, so clear-headed, you notice each layer of his scent. Toothpaste, lavender, vetiver, detergent. You sort of feel like a creep, but you can’t deny how comforting it is. Nor can you deny the pirouette your heart does when he begins minutely rubbing your back, like he’s not even thinking about it. 

"Goodnight," you whisper into his shirt. 

"Goodnight," he whispers back. 

You fall asleep pretty quickly after that. 

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

It’s unclear what wakes you up—maybe it’s the blue-grey dawn light filtering in through the filthy window (doubtful, it’s still mostly dark) or maybe it’s the blinking green digital clock on the nightstand. 5:02 AM. Your alarm will go off in an hour and 21 minutes.

Sometime in the night you shifted, turning over in your sleep, but Spencer is still holding you close. The arm slung so casually over your waist is slightly domineering, but you manage to rotate again and face him once more. Mere inches away from his face you can see every detail. His expression is so peaceful, it makes your heart ache. 

But you’re just friends. 

Perhaps he felt you moving, because his eyes flutter open and you watch as they flood with consciousness. He takes you in, takes in his arm over your waist. For a split second you’re nervous he’ll pull away. 

"What time is it?" His voice is scratchy with sleep. 

"Five."

"Why are you awake? We have over an hour til the alarm goes off."

"Sometimes waking up early is okay."

His eyes flicker between your own, and momentarily you’re paralyzed as you realize this is a limbo state for the two of you in which you’ve never operated. You don’t know what’s acceptable. You don’t know what to do. Being close to him feels so good, that the idea of separating hurts. But you don’t want to make him uncomfortable, or—

He leans forward and kisses you softly. In the blue light of dawn, rather than frenzied and hidden in the dark, a desperate tear of clothes and teeth and hands—it’s almost freeing. All the anxiety you were feeling just seconds ago begins to melt. 

Friends. 

"You looked anxious," is his whispered answer after he pulls away a moment later, like a kiss is the simplest remedy in the world. He brushes a lock of hair behind your ear. "We should go back to sleep."

"I don’t want to go back to sleep."

The corner of his mouth twitches as he studies you.  

"No? What do you want?"

Emboldened by your mutual indiscretion, it’s your turn to kiss him. You feel him smile against your lips, hand finding the back of your neck and raking up through your hair to pull you closer. 

The delirium of sleep seems to have softened you, filed down the rough edges of your boundaries and kicked away the lines in the sand. What’s a kiss or two when you’ve just woken up? A small, innocuous display of affection while you’re still barely conscious. Nobody could fault either of you for that. People don’t think clearly when they’ve just been asleep.

So what if your lips part against his, and his other hand finds its way under your shirt to stroke the bare skin of your waist and hips? So what if you hitch that leg over him again and press closer?

Spencer breaks the kiss, still ghosting over your lips. 

"I thought it wasn’t a good night?"

"It’s not night time anymore, is it, genius?"

You sneak another kiss, nipping his bottom lip gently as you pull away. 

Instead of whatever array of responses you were expecting, Spencer smiles slightly, eyes almost sparkling in the faint light. The hand on your hip moves to your face, gently thumbing across your cheek. He begins to say something, and stops himself—biting his lip to hold back the words. 

"What?" you ask, heart dropping. Illusion fracturing. 

"I was just—" he begins, pausing for a moment before the words all come out in a rush. "I was just going to tell you how beautiful you are, but I don’t know if that’s something I should say, or if it would feel too… I don’t know…"

He trails off. A rare instance in which he doesn’t have the words. 

You do. Intimate. Real. Romantic. And he’s right, it does feel too much like all of those things. But that doesn’t mean you don’t like it, perhaps more than is strictly good for you. 

"It’s fine. Thank you."

He continues chewing on his lip for a moment. 

"Did I just ruin the mood?"

"No," you laugh, "not at all."

"Thank god," he sighs, surging forward again. 

"Since when do you thank god?" You manage between kisses. 

He moves to press his lips to your jaw and down your neck. 

"Do you want me to talk about the historical and cultural transition of religious expressions into ubiquitous secular colloquialisms right now?"

"Kind of," you breathe.

"No you don’t," he murmurs against your neck as his hands find the hem of your shirt. "You want me to take your clothes off."

Well, he’s not wrong there. 

You help him tug the shirt over your head before leaning back into the pillows as he situates himself over you and lavishes more kisses down your neck and collarbones, pausing to suck a mark only when he knows it’s low enough to be covered by your clothing later. 

You gasp when his lips brush over your nipple, before running his tongue over the sensitive skin. He glances up at you, and though his mouth is occupied, you can see the humor in his eyes. He loves how sensitive you are—how easy it is to get a reaction out of you. 

Of course, you continue to prove him right when he takes the other into his mouth, trying to hold back your little whimpers as he darts his tongue over the peak. Maybe somebody else wouldn’t hear them, but Spencer does. He’s hyper attuned to the sounds you make. Something of a catalogue has begun to form in the back of his mind; he knows exactly what each noise means and how to get them out of you. 

Once satisfied, he moves to press a kiss to your sternum. 

"You’re gonna be quiet for me, right?" Another kiss above your bellybutton. "Because Morgan is sleeping right on the other side of that wall, and we don’t want to wake him up."

"I’ll be quiet," you promise, somewhat breathlessly. Spencer’s mouth trails lower until he’s pulling your shorts down your legs, leaving you completely naked. He tosses them somewhere on the floor and hooks your legs over his shoulders. 

"Good." He plants one last kiss to your thigh and the next one lands right between your legs. 

You regret the need to be silent almost as soon as he drags his tongue over your clit. It’s not like the two of you have ever had the privilege of making a lot of noise, as the hotel rooms are always so close to each other, but it doesn’t make it any easier. 

Instead you opt to rake your hands through his hair and try to take deep breaths. But he knows exactly what you like—he knows starting light and slow, teasing around your most sensitive spot will work you up to the brink of insanity, just like he knows gentle circles make your back arch and elicit the prettiest little moans. 

"More," you beg, and the hands wrapped around your thighs rub soothingly, reassuring you that if you can just be patient you’ll get what you want. 

He takes your aching clit into his mouth, sucking lightly and you’re forced to clap a hand over your mouth, muffling the sob of pleasure you can’t hold back. Spencer keeps it up until you’re practically riding his face, teasing your dripping entrance with the tip of his tongue when you get too close. 

"Fuck, please, Spence," you whisper through your fingers, hips rutting in your desperation. Somehow it always ends up like this—with him in charge and you begging. Not that you have a problem with it, of course. 

He hums into you, and if the way his tongue moves back to circling your clit with newfound fervor is any indication, is apparently satisfied with your entreaty. 

You gasp and try to control your breathy moans, but his mouth feels so good on you that your vision is going out and you’re losing touch with reality ever so slightly. You use the last of your brain power to bite down on the back of your wrist, hoping it adequately muffles the noises you make as you come on Spencer’s tongue and he greedily continues lapping at you. There’s really no way of knowing—your ears are ringing anyway. 

When you come to a moment later he’s peppering kisses on your thighs, rubbing your hips gently. 

"So pretty," he murmurs, climbing back up so your lips can meet again. "Everything about you is pretty."

You paw at his shirt, signaling that you want it off as you moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue, feel your slippery arousal staining the kiss. Spencer helps you, sitting up briefly to unzip his hoodie and pull off his shirt. 

You’re the one to drag him back down, and you notice that he pulls the covers back over the both of you in a sweet gesture he probably didn’t even think about. 

"Need you to fuck me," you beg, reaching down to try and undress him further. 

"So crude. What happened to my nice, sweet girl?" He mumbles against your neck, but helps you with his pants anyway. 

"You must have me confused with someone else."

"Doubtful."

You don’t have much time to consider what that could mean before he’s running the head of his cock over your clit and you’re gasping into his mouth, saying please like it’s the only word you know. 

"There she is," Spencer croons, slipping inside you slow enough for you to feel every inch but quick enough for it to expel all the air from your lungs. Once he’s opened you all the way up, impossibly deep and close, you’re seeing stars, barely breathing. His head has dropped to your shoulder but now he drags his lips up your neck and jaw. "We okay?"

It’s been a while, you realize, since that last case in Maine. He always takes some getting used to. Hardly able to think around the pressure of his cock you nod, trying to string together a few words. 

"Fuck, I need a second." The words come out choked, but you manage. Spencer rubs your hip, his lips brushing yours as he speaks. 

"Relax, sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you."

He curses to himself, dropping his head momentarily. You’re so fucking soft, and warm, and perfect, he can’t think straight. But he has to try because he has to take care of you. 

"Spence," you gasp, failing to verbally communicate the intensity of the physical sensation. 

"I know, baby," comes his sympathetic coo. "You know you can take me. Deep breaths."

"Mhm," you squeak, trying to take follow his directions and soften your muscles. Spencer keeps rubbing soothingly over your hips, stomach, whatever he can get his hands on, really, pressing kisses all over your face and telling you how good you are, how perfect you feel for him. After a few moments he feels you fluttering around him and experimentally pulls out halfway, before pushing back in equally as slowly. Your jaw drops as he begins to leisurely fuck you, arms wrapping around his back. He gets deeper than you expect every time, rubbing you raw and stretching you out in the most delicious way. 

"Perfect, baby. Such a good listener, did exactly what I asked."

You cry out when he begins fucking you impossibly deeper, but still so slow and sweet.

"You feel so fucking good for me," he groans. "This is what you were made for, huh?" You agree enthusiastically, eyes fluttering shut. 

"Only for you."

Just three words—but he wasn’t expecting to like hearing you say that as much as he does. A strong desire to possess you overtakes him—one that he’ll probably have the decency to feel guilty about later, but for now feels fucking fantastic and intoxicating. 

"Only me?"

You moan an affirmation. 

"Good. I don’t want anyone else fucking you, do you understand me?"

"Yes!"

"I’m the only one who gets to touch you," he breathes, speeding up ever so slightly, "nobody else is going to feel you like this. Such a good girl, spreading her legs for me at five in the fucking morning. You’re not doing this for anybody else, baby."

"Uh-uh, please, pleasepleaseplease Spence—"

He knows what you need, reaching a hand down between your bodies to rub your clit. 

You gasp an airy, high pitched curse, hips twitching but unable to escape the near-punishing rhythm of his own. It’s obvious that your orgasm is close, but you can’t even warn him, too overwhelmed with pleasure. He kisses you, swallowing your moans that have probably become just a bit too loud given the whole hotel thing. 

No words are exchanged between the two of you as you near the finish line for a change, open mouths slipping against each others in what is too messy to be called a kiss. Your orgasm body-slams you, a choked silent scream as you tighten around Spencer and he seems to come at nearly the exact same moment—deep inside you, slowly rolling his hips in a few more strong thrusts as he finishes. 

You let out a delayed moan at the sensation of being filled up, still pulsing around him as he comes to a halt, buried inside of you. He drops his head to your neck, and you can feel each breath against your flushed skin. Other than the panting, you’re both silent for a while. Spencer seems to gather himself sooner than you do, finally breaking the quiet. 

"You okay?"

All you can manage is a little squeak, at which he looses a breathy chuckle. His hand slides to your hip, gently stroking the skin with a thumb. 

"Need your words, angel girl."

"I’m okay," you coo into his shoulder, but he has to strain to hear it above his own breathing. 

"Yeah? Why so quiet?"

But it seems that at least for the moment, he’s gotten all the words he can out of you. When he tries to move, you whimper indignantly, clutching onto him tighter. 

"I really did a number on you this time, huh?" He laughs when you nod into him. "Are you falling asleep?"

"Mhm," you hum dreamily, little puffs of warm air slowing against his neck. 

"You can have…" he cranes his head to check the digital clock, "48 minutes."

"An hour."

He settles his weight on you once more, pressing a chaste kiss to your throat. His voice is low and gentle as he admonishes you. 

"I said 48 minutes."

But it doesn’t matter—you’re already asleep, or close enough to it. Spencer takes the opportunity to shift you to your side, and the way you wrap around him like a vine even unconsciously makes his heart ache. He really should go now—the earlier he gets out of your room the less likely certain complications will arise—but how can he possibly leave you like this? A vulnerable, dreamy girl with tangled hair haloing around her on the pillow case, clinging to him with blind trust that he’ll watch over her as she sleeps? No—there’s no way he’s leaving yet. Instead, he brings you closer. 48 perfect minutes will go by far too quickly, he’s sure. 

[elssero]

seven minutes in… heaven?

k.bakugo

♰ nsfw/suggestive, third year bakugo x f!reader, dry humping..? both characters are drunk but fully consent!

evanescence blasts through your phone as you do the final finishing details of your makeup, your cutting the crease of your liner while jirou sat next to you clips some of her hair back with the little music note hair piece you had picked up for her last week. your excited for tonight, it’s been awhile since the whole class of 3A had gotten together like this.

it’s a celebratory party for the end of a month long project you had all been putting all of your time and effort into, so much so to the point that nobody had really spent any time together, so to say that everyone was bubbling with anticipation was an understatement.

well everyone except bakugo of course, according to jirou he had been grumbling all week about this stupid party and how he’s being forced to go by stupid kirishima because of some stupid bet he lost last month. apparently he’d much rather stay in his room all night and pop a couple sleeping pills to ensure he wasn’t involved in the the night at all.

he just hates parties, he doesn’t understand why something so small as finishing a project deserves an entire class get together. he would much rather have a small, controlled hang out with the close group of friends he’d found himself growing fond of over the past few years.

you, of course ignore his complaints because the only word to describe how your feeling right now is ecstatic, it’s no surprise to anyone that you loved a good party and seeing that you had worked extra hard on this particular project you felt as though you owed it to yourself to let a little loose.

after deciding you are completely happy with the way you look and having taken a shot of some pre-drink with jirou, you link the girls arm and leave your dorm, you make your way to the common room arm and arm with the increasingly nervous girl beside you, you whisper a few encouraging words as you continue to lead her to, you can see that people have already started gathering, drinks in hand.

you decide for jirous sake to make a b-line to mina, kaminari and sero who are slumped together on one of the couches around the room.

mina wastes no time pulling you both into a hug “you both look amazing! ah- i can’t im so excited we’re all here tonight!” you can tell she’s already tipsy by the way she slightly stutters and her voice raises at the end of her sentences.

you hug her back just as excitedly, you love mina, she shares your excitement for the little things and you can’t help but feel drawn to her because of that, it’s clear to everyone around you that you two were just made to be friends.

kami gets up next, he throws a lazy arm around jirous shoulder and compliments you both on your outfits of choice, you can’t help but chuckle a little at his behaviour, he’s always been a bit of flirt, especially with jirou, you can’t help but smile at the sight when jirou leans into his hold slightly.

sero, now stood directly in front of you pulls you into tight hug, seros a close friend, if anything probably your closest after mina and jirou and definitely the person your physically closest with. he is your friend and definitely only that, despite the looks that your weirdly physically close relationship gets from your classmates, but the line at least in your head is definitely drawn and you don’t dare cross it.

you mingle for abit, finishing off your first drink and eagerly getting your second, your sat in a circle now with most of your class, some sat on the floor and some sat on furniture, you’ve somehow ended up in a full class discussion despite the buzz that fills the room. your listening to the class debate their most embarrassing moments when a loud but cheery voice drags another loud but not so cheery voice into the room.

“hey everyone! sorry we’re late it seems that bakugo had forgotten about tonight” kirishima grins as bakugo starts mumbling incoherent complaints. “but alas, no worries as i made sure to remind him!” kirishima continues to ignore bakugos clearly sour mood as he pulls the blond to sit across from you and sero, who’s now drunken head is now resting on your shoulder, they would definitely be sat next to you guys but kirishima doesn’t wish to disturb the circle so he takes the only free place.

people exclaim welcomes as you smile at the red head, he sends a smile back and a quick look at sero who seems to be making himself pretty comfortable pressed up against you. bakugo doesn’t even lift his head while he sits down, it’s clear he wishes for this party to be over just as quickly as it can start.

“let’s play a game!” it comes from uraraka in the corner as she leans into the center of the circle to get everyone’s attention. “oh yeah? what do you suppose we play?” midoriya this time, slurring, who’s clearly a little drunker than he should be seeing as your only an hour or so into the get together. denki cheers out in the corner and catches everyone’s attention as he quickly finishes his beer and places it in the middle of the circle. “we’re playing seven minutes in heaven.” a wide smirk on his face as he watches everyone agree, you’d maybe think he’d be suggesting this is a way for him to get some but you disagree, you know kami lives for drama and a game like this is surely to brew some up.

people settle into positions and sero finally raises his head from the crook of your neck, you know he’s a merchant of drama and he seems to agree this some in definitely incoming as he awaits the first spin.

tsu goes first as peer pressured by her friends and lands on uraraka, you see a small blush appear on the brunettes features and you wish them good luck as mina shuts the closet door behind them, your all warily keeping it down a little, making little jabs at one another and chuckle quietly, you hear a giggle from the closest and you all burst into laughter, unable to keep quiet anymore as you let the girls finish their 7 minutes.

your unable to remember who goes next but it was surely insignificant, you can feel the alcohol now at your forgetfulness, you join conversation with your friends and await the next spin as the pair who you now see is momo and shinsou leave the closet calmly, it’s clear to everyone that nothing of interest happened which only proves a suspicion you’ve had about momo for awhile, whatever though it’s not your business.

very suddenly and very much to your surprise mina edges you forward to spin the bottle next, your not really sure why, it’s not like your dying to get some, infact your doing pretty well for yourself so her eagerness for you to spin next is unidentifiable to you but alas you don’t argue and you shift, almost crawling on all floors to reach the bottle and spin it harshly, watching as it continues to go round and round.

when it’s completely slowed down you follow the tip of the bottle and realise it’s pointing directly in front of you, you continue to look up and you lock eyes with a shocked pair of red ones. without thinking you stand up and hold a want out too him to help him up. he looks up at you in only complete shock as he grits out “i’m not fuckin’ doing this shit, didn’t fuckin agree to it” you don’t falter, now used to his attitude “what are you scared bakugo? the great katsuki bakugo scared of seven minutes alone with me?”

he gapes at you, jaw dropped and he falters for a second. maybe he is scared. he contemplates for a second before grabbing your hand and letting you help him up, he follows as you guide him into the closet and shut the door behind you.

he huffs at the proximity between you, he’s always been huge but the past few months you can tell he’s been bulking up even more, if that’s even possible. there’s barely enough space for the two of you, your tits are slightly pushed up against him as your back hugs the wall of the closet.

“we don’t have to do anything” you whisper out, slightly slurred due to your drink intake. “we can just chill in here if you’d rather that.” he doesn’t respond and you take a moment to observe him, his cheeks are flushed, either due to the lack of space between the two of you of the alcohol, it’s probably both.

“well it’s not like you can do anything anyway” he spits out and you give him a puzzled look “what do you mean i can’t do anything? you think m’ allergic to kissing people or something?” he chuckles slightly at that, you feel a little twinge of pride, you’ve always been able to do that, draw small chuckles out of the man in front of you. you’ve been able to lock down on what draws it out of him and being mouthy certainly seems to do the trick.

“na… y’know your with tape arms and stuff dno’ why you even came in here with me, dno’ why you even spinned that bottle” now it’s your turn to chuckle at him, did he seriously believe that you and sero were together? like an actual item? did other people believe that too? you swore up and down you’d made it very clear that was not the case. “me and sero are definitely not together” you giggle slightly as you say it, he doesn’t respond so you continue “he’s a very close friend of mine and i know we’re a little touchy but we’re definitely not seeing each other” his eyes seem to dart up to you as you finish your sentence, the words clearly settling in.

“why do you guys act like that them?” he sounds almost… defected? it’s a tone you can’t quite figure out. “m’ not sure, it just kinda happened one day and became the norm for us i guess” he lets out a slight hum and you settle into silence briefly before he speaks. “so why-” he cuts himself off, cursing quietly before continuing “so why did you come in here with me?” he gets quieter as he continues to speak, he’s nervous. that much is entirely obvious to you even in your drunken state. you look him in the eyes when you answer him this time “well what usually happens when you entire a closet with someone during this game bakugo?” his breath seems to quicken at this and you feel his chest moving faster against your own, quickly reminding you of the contact between you two as you glance down at your tits still pushed against his chest, the sight sets a blush across your cheeks, bakugos eyes seem to follow yours as an even bigger red blush appears across his face.

“i already said before that we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want too, but that doesn’t mean i don’t want too.” you explain it too him calmly, you are not inexperienced, not in the slightest but though his actions it’s telling that bakugo may be- giving you the upper hand.

“no-“ he ushers it out quickly “no- i think- i think i want too” you watch as his blush deepens even more, it’s cute you think, nothing like how he usually is, you quite like him like this.

you take this as an opportunity to lift your hand to the back of his neck, pulling him closer towards you, you stop as his lips are hovering slightly above your own. “you gotta let me know if you want me to stop” he nods quickly and you take that as confirmation, you take a tight grip on his hair and force his lips down to meet your own, he immediately groans at the impact, rushing to place heavy hands on the side of your waist, wasting no time as he pulls you impossibly closer to him.

your forcing your tongue down his throat and he groans again, you immediately feel him already against your thigh and you wonder how long he’s been hard like that. he kisses you like he’s starved, attempting to push himself even closer to you, it appears he’s fighting for dominance until you pull slightly on his hair and he melts into you with another noise bubbling in his throat- a whine almost exhales him and in that moment you decide your pulling a proper whine from him that night, it might be the best thing you’ve ever heard.

far too suddenly for your liking the door swings open, revealing to your entire class the compromising position you and bakugo are in, he nearly screams at the suddenly light shining in his eyes. you make eye connect with mina and her jaw drops. bakugo immediately disconnects with you and you find yourself missing his warmth. your bombarded with questions as bakugo takes your hand in his and rushes you both out the closet, ignoring the pleas from your classmates.

“party’s over for me shitty hair” bakugo shouts at kirishima, not even taking a glance in his direction as he storms you both, still hand in hand past the crowd of your classmates and towards the stairs. “you fuckers have a good time down here or whatever, we’re going up to bed.” he smirks at this, pulling you even faster through the hall.

“have a great night everyone!” you shout as you look back at your friends, they’re mouths gaping in complete shock, you send them a wink as you turn back to bakugo, speeding to catch up with him. happily following him up to his dorm. luckily for you, you’d turned around too quickly to see the defeated look on a certain black haired classmate of yours as he watches you be dragged even further away from him by a boy he knows has shared the same crush he’s had on you since your first year at ua.

AHHHH BAKUGO FIC!!! i’m considering making this a little series because i can’t get seven minutes in heaven with the mha characters out of my head. not proofread yet so if there’s mistakes then there’s mistakes!

[katszumi]

Studying with bakugo is almost NEVER studying with bakugo. The mf can yell at you to pay attention all he wants but a few seconds of it and you’re already back to yapping about the latest drama. Drawing little doodles on your paper (and a few on his) while you tell him about how kuroiro finally confessed to Komori from class 1b, and although he doesn’t like to admit it he’s paying more attention to your yapping then his studying. (Your the only person who can do that)

i hope i did your ask justice😔 this is the first one i’ve done, but thank you sm for requesting. and gosh, i love silly highschool romance sm REQUEST MORE PLS

sorta linked to this but can def be read as a standalone

“did you hear about kuroiro’s confession today?” you asked. you were laid on bakugou’s room floor, your notebook wide open with a few math equations along with a dozen of doodles.

you just asked him another silly question, one of the countless ones that you’ve already made in a hour.

bakugou already knew that you were a sociable person from the way you find a new person to talk to everyday, but he didn’t expect you to be this talkative.

truth be told, you’ve talked more than you have actually studied. which was the main reason why you had come to his room at nearly eight o’clock at night, close to his bedtime.

he only accepted the late study session was because the other reason for you to come was so he could speak with you privately. this was the best way he could do it secretly without being found out.

bakugou looked up from his textbook, directly at you. “no. not that i even care about that stuff anyway.”

your chin rested in the palm of your hand, silently drumming your fingers against your cheek.

“it’s hilarious though, cmon!” you pleaded with a small smile on your face.

“we’re supposed to be studying, y/n. did you forget that you didn’t exactly ace that test?” he rhetorically asked.

you pursed your lips together in a thin line, looking away from bakugou and back onto your textbook. you were dumb enough to even think you could gossip with bakugou.

he offered to help you study, not to bond more as friends clearly.

you picked up your pencil and began to write the equation that was written in the hardbook next to you.

hearing that there was no response from you, bakugou internally began to slightly panic. it was never like you to just shut up so easily. he couldn’t help but come to the conclusion that he came off too rude.

it’s not that he didn’t want to hear you speak, he just didn’t want to make his crush on you so obvious. he was trying so hard to be his normal self which was much harder towards you than he thought.

bakugou placed his textbook down, leaning back into the palm of his hands behind him. “what did that extra do?”

almost immediately, you released the pencil that was in your hand and made eye contact with the ruby eyed male in front of you. a smile tugged on your lips, one that bakugou couldn’t help but think was so fuckin’ cute.

“he made her a bouquet of mushrooms, because you know, her whole mushroom quirk thing. he tried to give it to her discreetly but someone walked past and made it a whole big deal.” you described. “honestly, i feel bad cause i think they’re both kinda shy. they probably didn’t want that attention.”

bakugou unknowingly listened to every word of yours, feeling himself being drawn into you. what was it about your voice that made it so compelling for him?

if it were anyone else like stupid shitty hair or raccoon eyes, he’d shut it down immediately, not caring about a single word they had to say about it.

but, he found it a little more difficult than usual to refuse when it came to you.

he snickered. “public confession? what a romcom move of him.”

you looked back down, noticing bakugou’s blank paper. out of boredom, you grasped onto his notebook. you started to doodle on the small square in the upper left corner; a couple of hearts, stars, dots to make it less bland.

“i think it was sweet. it’s hard to confess already, but to do it in front of an audience? takes guts honestly.”

bakugou watched you draw on his paper. he felt a little jump in his heart, some part of him liking the fact that you took initiative to add your own touch to something of his.

something so stupid. so small. but he couldn’t help but feel a tad giddy.

bakugou sat upright, gulping nothing but his own saliva. “is that something you would like?”

at first, bakugou curses at himself. why would he ask something like that? something that could definitely give away his small crush on you. but he remained his same stone-cold look.

you looked up at bakugou, noticing his eyes softening slightly before returning to their original position.

you thought about it long before responding. “nah. don’t think that’s something i’d really prefer. i’d like a simple confession with just the two of us.” you described.

it seemed a little weird to you that you were casually speaking of your own relationship preference with bakugou, but you tried your hardest not to think too much about it.

you assumed he was only trying to make small talk.

“good.” again, with bakugou’s one worded response. even though he didn’t add more to his sentence, his eyes lingered with yours. as if he was deciding something or carefully analyzing you. but it was a different look. not a competitive, angry look. but rather a tender look. one you have never seen bakugou wear, ever.

suddenly, he looked away, back onto his textbook. you seemingly didn’t mind considering the small tingle you were receiving in your face.

bakugou looked over his shoulder, begging to anyone even the gods above to remove the deep-set blush that was occurring on his face.

the male cleared his throat. “alright, let’s fuckin’ study. gossipin’ and yappin’ won’t help you get a better damn test score.” he chose the defensive route to move on.

you silently agreed with a nod. but, your mind goes back to the thought that you successfully just gossiped with the katsuki bakugou. the one that’s listed to only care about being the number one hero.

you bit the inside of your cheek to hide a smile as you tapped your pencil against your notebook.

just now, a kaleidoscope of butterflies slipped through the cracks of your stone wall, entering your stomach, and began to harvest a life within that had bakugou’s name branded on it.

[tteokdoroki]

☆༉ — YUUJI ITADORI. isn’t it weird? how love never changes.

about. no matter what anyone says, yuuji itadori’s love for you is unwavering and he hopes that you’ll never see a reason to change. not for anyone, not even him. (1K)

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, characters are aged up to 20s and in college, weird gf and jock bf, yuuji is a jock and has obnoxious teammates, reader is an introvert and wears glasses, selfship coded i fear, fem!reader.

“itadori, don’t you think your girlfriend is a little.. weird?”

the pink haired jock blinks once, then frowns  as he tugs a fresh shirt over his head — practice with his soccer team had ran a little longer than anticipated and he didn’t feel like coming home to you, his girlfriend, in a stinky old shirt. 

yuuji’s not sure when the topic of locker room talk had switched onto him and his love life but he cares enough to bite — not about to let his teammates talk smack about his girl. “where’d you get that idea from?”

another teammate speaks up. “when she comes to your games, she wears your sweatshirts but doesn’t cheer for you at all.” 

“she’s just shy, nothing wrong with that.” yuuji counters.

“whenever we hang out at the after partie she’s always… clinging onto you… doesn’t drink with any of us.”

“i told you, she’s a little shy,”  he stands up a little straighter this time, narrowing his eyes. “and parties aren’t for everyone. she might not like them but she’s there to support me. shouldn’t that be enough?”

“but dude…” someone else speaks up. “don’t you find any of that strange? like she’s just… weird.”

yuuji can’t get home fast enough after that. he almost falls to pieces when he sees you singing and shuffling your way through the cupboards in his dorm kitchen — making yourself a snack. he loves it when you stay over and he gets to watch you like this, so calm and at ease in his space. he feels grateful to even be sharing it with you.

weird isn’t a word that yuuji itadori would use to describe his girlfriend. 

he finds you intriguing. your relationship is still new, so all of the differences between you both interest him beyond belief. each time he discovers a new habit of yours (like the way you forget to take your glasses off when you sleep) or a fact about your life before college, or finds out something obscure relating to your hobbies and interests… yuuji can’t help but to fall in love with you all over again. like an astronomer who’s searching for the secrets of the universe, the pink haired jock wants to know every interesting little detail that makes you, you. 

that’s created the very person he loves today. 

“please never change,” yuuji breathes against the back of your head once he’s home. you can’t even comprehend the speed at which he’s dropped his gym back before he’s wrapped himself around you in the same manner that a boa constrictor would. only more affectionate. “and if you do, let me change with you.” 

being this close to itadori, you can smell his baby-fresh soap and the tinge of sweat from his work out. you can feel the strength of his arms as they squeeze you close from behind — like he’ll never let you go. he makes you feel loved even when it’s not on purpose, you go your every waking moment cared for and adored by yuuji itadori. it’s always subconscious, unwavering and steady. your love is stable like that, never dampened from those outside of the two of you — that much will never change. 

“that’s a big ask, yuu.” comes your contented hum, but you don’t stop your actions — continuing to make your snack while the pink haired jock squeezes you tight. as if to become one with you. “people change all the time.” 

you hold up a hand behind you and he sucks the peanut butter from your thumb eagerly. “i know, but i don’t want what anyone else says about you or us to make you change,” he mumbles petulantly against the shell of your ear, trying to find the right words as he tucks his face into your neck. “you’re perfect to me, as you are.” 

it’s cute that he reminds you of such a trivial little thing. those big brown eyes of yuuji’s see perfection in all of your flaws. he loves you so much you wonder if how much you feel for him even compares. 

“what’s gotten into you?” you giggle, spinning in his arms to stand on the tips of your toes — pressing a soft kiss to the point at which your boyfriend’s jaw meets his neck. it’s all you can reach. “did something happen?” 

yuuji hesitates for a moment, lips pursed and honey-glazed eyes cast to the side. he would never lie to you, that’s not in his nature — but he’d never want to hurt your feelings either. “the guys…the guys on the team said some stuff about us today,” his voice trails off and his hands trail upwards, dipping underneath the jersey of his that you wear to draw circles into your waist using his rough thumbs. he figures it’s best to tell you before one of his teammates  let it slip and hurt your feelings. he would rather die then let that happen. “they… they think you’re weird and that… that we’re too different.” 

“o-oh.”

a flash of pain comes with the territory of yuuji’s honesty, but he’s quick to soothe it as though he’s running your burn under a stream of cool water. “but i like you. like…really really like you,” the words rush out while his eyes stay serious and set in stone. your boyfriend grasps both of your hands firmly before you can even think to cry or pull away.

yuuji is there and he is constant and that is never changing. not for anyone, except for you. “and i like all of the funny things about you. that you’re a little quiet, that you’re always by my side, that you leave me notes in my gym bag or share your celebrity crushes with me. i like you for you. even if you’re a little weird — then…then i am too!” 

his hands, strong and yet so soft, traverse up to your round cheeks — tilting your head up to face him. “please don’t ever change because of what people say,” yuuji repeats tenderly, his lips finding the crown of your head in a gentle kiss. he stays there, like a magnet on metal and the world stands still for a moment. remaining the same, no longer changing, so that yuuji itadori can love you as is. “the way you are right now, it’s everything to me.” 

itadori only moves when you tip your head back to get a better look at him, he looks down at you through his unfairly long lashes — brown eyed gaze latching onto yours while your hearts sync up, beating to the same drum. “i’ll never change, as long as you promise to always love me like this.”

“i’ll love you the same way that i always have. like i’m the luckiest guy in the world, yeah?” he laughs and you smile — because it’s hard to be upset when yuuji is around, and protects your love so genuinely. 

you lean up and he meets you half way — pressing a slow and lingering kiss to the swell of your lips, wrapping his arms around you once again as you away to a silent tune in his tiny dorm kitchen. 

change is inevitable of course. the two of you will grow and become different people than you are right now — but you will always find your way back to the beautiful love that you hold. 

much like a butterfly that blossoms into something beautiful too.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[martiansodas-blog]

too pretty to think.

when art started to slip, it almost felt like falling asleep…

a. donaldson x reader

word count: 2,216

contents: dumbification, body worship, face sitting, multiple orgasms, cuming untouched, brief mommy kink, subspace, nicknames and pet names, this is freak nasty.

Xx

The first time 

You and Art have been going steady for 6 months and you loved every second of it. the two of you mostly hung out at your place, it's a tad cleaner than his dorm and he never bothered with things like decorations. It was a haven for the both of you. So when your Blackberry buzzed with a message asking,

“r u home?” 

It was hardly out of the ordinary.

“yeah. just changed clothes”

“can i come over?”

“of course”

Donaldson is a man who never knows when to quit. Let's rephrase: He’ll only quit when instructed to. 

He treats his body like a machine. He eats what his nutritionist tells him to, he pushes his body to the limit, and he rarely turns in a paper late. 

When you opened your front door your boyfriend was in chaotic ruins. His eyes were puffy and his cheeks were stained. He stared at the floor with his calloused hands in his pockets.

“Oh my gosh, what happened?? What’s wrong?”

Your tone had urgency as you ushered him inside. Once the door is closed he pulls you in for a hug. You don’t dare speak, just hug back. He’ll tell you when he’s ready. 

It’s obvious he’s trying to hold himself together, but stroking his back caused him to break.

“Aw, baby,” 

You sway him from side to side. 

“Shh, it’s ok. I’m here.”

After a few minutes, Art regained control of his breathing. You put him at arm's length—your voice just above a whisper. 

“Would you like to come lay down with me? We don’t have to talk about it if you don't want to, let's just get you comfortable.”

Art sniffles and nods his head—your poor baby. 

You held his hand and led the way to your room. You sat on your bed with your back against the wall so he could lay between your legs. He often takes this position when you guys are watching movies so it will add a level of comfort for him. 

Art takes some deep breaths as you run your nails through his hair. 

“We got a new coach and he- he’s so intense. I don’t know. I’ve been berated by coaches since I was 13. Why the hell is this one affecting me differently?” 

You twist one of his curls in your fingers. 

“Everything's just so much right now. Schoolwork, post-graduation plans, sponsorships… There's so much going on all the time. I- I can’t do it.” 

Your heart broke for him. 

“I’m so sorry, Artie. I wish I could take it all away from you.”

You rubbed his arms and back for who knows how long. It could have been hours. You didn’t care. You’d cancel your week's agenda if that’s what he needed. You weren’t getting up until he felt better. 

You analyzed his words.

“It’s not that you’re unable to make decisions, and it’s not that you make bad decisions. It’s just that decisions are constant unrelenting work… is that an accurate assessment?”

He nodded and sighed into your shirt like you were the one person in the world who understood him. 

“...And a good boy like you should never have to work.” 

Art froze. 

Well, that’s new. 

You decided to test the waters further and put on your most sultry voice. 

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll think for you.” 

He let out a sound that can only be described as a mewl. His body curled into a semi-circle. 

You swept some hair out of his eyes, they seemed to get droopier.

I don't know what exactly is transpiring he’s responding to it.

“Let your thoughts go. You don’t need them.” 

Eyes are fully closed now.

“Can you unclench your jaw for me? That’s it.”

He does as he's told, falling deeper into whatever hollow you're creating. He bites back a smile but his blush is evident. So easy to get him to blush. One of his cutest attributes.

Next step is Moving your handsome boy to lay on his stomach so you can rub his shoulders. You hear him sigh while the tension is worked out of his muscles and watch him relax under your hands. 

Walking him through some deep breaths while you place dozens of soft, light kisses on his neck. 

You want to make him understand what a privilege it is to have him.

Rubbing his thighs and calves, slowly melting away the stress of the day. Kisses on the backs of his knees while he laughs and tells you to stop that and that it tickles.

Helping him turn over to lie on his back and climbing carefully on top to straddle him.

You toy with the hem of his shirt. 

“Can I take this off?”

He looks up at you. mouth open and nods. 

It causes you to giggle. 

“Thank you.” 

Once that’s out of the way your hands wander up to his chest while trailing more impossibly light kisses down his Adam's apple. Massaging his chest, squeezing and grabbing and just feeling his skin. 

Kissing his collarbones, trailing your tongue along the dip where they meet under his neck. Slowly working that boy up with teasing touches that only get more and more unbearable.

Slowly returning to his lips to kiss him again while you reach down to trail your fingertips over his cock. He pants and whines so sweetly into your mouth while you play with his cock. You're not even trying to make him cum-- not yet. 

I could do this all day. 

Letting him drift in a fuzzy-headed space while you work your fingers soft and slow over his pants. Doesn't need to worry about anything but your hands on his body. You're right here to keep him safe and make him feel good.

“There's nothing I love more than watching my brilliant, polite, well-spoken boyfriend turn mindless.” 

Art whined and bucked his hips up to meet your hand.

“I need to be in you so bad. Please.”

Who are you to refuse him?

“Don't worry baby, I’ll give you what you want.” 

You slid off him and he reached for you, like he couldn’t stand you being an inch away for any amount of time. You chuckled and took off your bottoms and underwear, he copied. 

You hopped back on top of him, which made him break out into a smile. His girl was about to take care of him. 

You grabbed his cock and started stroking him. 

“I don’t know if I’m wet enough, Artie.”

“Sitonmyface.” He begged all in one breath. 

You bit your lip so as not to laugh at him. It wasn’t in a mean way, no no! He was just so excited about it. It’s adorable and flattering all at the same time.

“Are you sure? We’ve never done that before.”

We haven’t done a lot of this before. 

He shamelessly nodded. Grabbing your waist with both hands and shifting your body up before you could protest. 

“I don’t want to crush you.”

At this point, he was panting. A dog seconds away from getting a treat. 

“You won’t.” 

Art has eaten you out before, and it’s been wonderful. But this? This is a new kind of ecstasy. 

His tongue reaches new trenches. 

And that fucking nose. It bumped your clit every time. You were gasping and making noises you didn’t know were possible. His mouth is memorizing your folds. He's getting off on your arousal.  His tip is red and hurting, but can barely care when a taste crafted just for him is on his lips. 

“Shit. Just like that.” 

Your thighs trapped his face, your breath hitched with every thrust, and your walls clenched around his tongue. 

“Oh god, oh god,” 

Truthfully, Art didn't know which of you came first. 

The only thing he knew was your body. 

You shuffled down and kissed all over his face which was covered in your release. 

“You made mommy feel so good.”

He smiled up at you. He was so proud that he could do that for you. Like it was his purpose in life. And oh did he love that nickname. It made him feel all soft, like when you recall a fond memory. 

“Do you want Mommy to sit on your cock?” 

He whimpered and nodded. 

You lined yourself up with him and sank. It was so easy due to both of your juices, you had to concentrate on lowering slowly so he didn’t bottom out too fast. 

The two of you moaned in unison. It was almost tantric. Even though the focus here is on Art, it’s impossible not to feel the same pleasure. It wasn’t just your sexualities that were aligned but your souls. The love you felt for each other was palpable. 

It didn’t take long for him to bottom out. But it wasn’t enough. You ground your hips into him, causing his voice to raise an octave. 

“Oh fuck. Hnnn! Fuck, feels so good, please.”

He was babbling nonsense, unable to create cohesive thoughts or keep any sounds in. 

You remove his hands clutching the sheets and replace them with your own. To bring him back to earth. 

When he couldn’t get enough he bucked his hips up into yours. Moving aimlessly, mindlessly. You held his hips down to the mattress and bounced on his dick. The sounds of his cock hitting your weeping entrance were insanely beautiful and sinful to listen to. 

“Such a good boy.” 

His dick jumped inside of you at that. Seemingly of its own volition. 

You shifted to pepper kisses on his jawline. The new position forced his cock to rub all kinds of new places. You nearly collapsed onto him from the shock. Heavy exhales leave your mouth. Your pussy suffocates his cock. 

“My good boy. Just a dumb little thing for me to use isn't that right.”

Art came on the spot. No warning. His skin flushed and curls were damp on his forehead. Words were coiled at his throat, coming out as broken sobs, wanting more. 

You rode him until it was clear he'd finished. 

“Did you cum for me, baby?”

“Yes. I'm sorry I should’ve said something I couldn't help it. Felt too good, I didn’t -“

“Shh sweetheart, you did nothing wrong. You can cum in me as many times as you like. That's what I’m here for. That’s what this,” you clenched around him, “is for.” 

“Fuck.” his breath quivering. He arched his back, sensitive little thing. 

“I love it when you spill yourself into me. it’s so warm in here now.” 

You placed his hand on your lower stomach, your womb. 

“Can we go again please?”

“Are you sure? I don't want to push you.”

He shuffled so you were both sitting up. causing you to gasp. His erection never left, and it’s ever so prevalent right now. 

“Please! Wanna keep myself buried here forever.” 

It was hard to remain the level-headed one after hearing that. 

“You make me so wet when you say that, Artie.” 

There's drool coming from his mouth as he watches you talk. Nothing behind those eyes.

“So wet and needy.” 

You soften your voice, and when you talk it’s into his mouth. 

“You gonna let me take you again?”

He groaned and nodded, then ferociously kissed you. He wrapped his strong arms around your torso and immediately disliked how much fabric was between the two of you. He ripped your t-shirt and sports bra off in nearly one motion. Sighing when he felt skin on skin.

“I’m going to play with you until there's nothing in that head except my name.”

And you did. You fucked him till his brain turned to mush. Till it felt so good he thought he was going crazy, till he couldn’t even hear how loud he was being. Just blissed out being pulled back into your cunt. 

What an honor, to have such an obedient, adoring boy like him. 

You let him stay like that, floaty and sweet until he fell asleep to whispered praises. 

“My good boy. You did such a good job for me.”

A kiss to his forehead. 

“You know I love you so much.”

Tucked under the covers.

“So good for me, honey. You're okay. I'm proud of you. You're all mine, and I'm all yours.”

You raked your nails along his back.

“Relax, It'll all be there for you tomorrow. But for right now, all you need to be is my good, sweet boy. And you are.”

You moved off the bed which concerned Art. 

“Are you leaving?” 

He looked like he could cry. You cradled his face. 

“No baby boy, of course not. I’m only getting you some water. I’ll be right back” 

You spoke to him like a child bedridden with a cold. It was clear the comedown was something intense and never experienced before. He needed you next to him right now.

“Alright lovely, I know you’re tired but have a few drinks of this for me.”

You guided the water bottle into his mouth till you were satisfied with the amount he got in his system. 

“Rest now. I’ll cuddle you.” 

The blonde fell asleep immediately in your embrace and you hoped it wouldn't be the last time you took his thoughts away.

[2hightocare]

PRINCESS TREATMENT ✷

“In a world of boys’ he’s a gentleman” mini series—

Synopsis: Jungkook simply does everything to make you happy..

Genre: established relationship!

Warnings: pure fucking fluff… (seriously makes me wanna jump in oncoming traffic) jungkook is a bright green flag, he’s love language is “acts of service” (can be read as a standalone but I recommend reading the first part)

a/n: we all deserve oc and jungkooks kinda love.. I’m turning this into a mini series since a lot of people enjoyed it🤍

for @ohsweetmimosa !!

Falling in love was always something that you wanted, your face has always been shoved into pages of books, wondering when it would be your turn to experience that type of love. Your mom would always tell you that your expectations were too high and that no man could ever be as perfect as a fictional man.

Until you met him.

There were no words in the dictionary to describe him. No words to describe how beautifully his eyes would sparkle whenever he would tell you he loves you, the way his thumb would caress you whenever you would hold hands, or the way he would kiss away the tears that would escape your eyes.

You a hundred percent believed God made men, and sent Jungkook as an apology.

“When did you learn to braid hair…?” You curiously ask, with a slight hint of jealousy in your tone, making Jungkook laugh behind you as his fingers thread the three strands of hair repeatedly. “Watched a YouTube tutorial,” he chuckles, trying so hard not to pull your hair.

“What for..?” You stare at the mirror in front of you with the goofiest smile plastered on your face, watching your boyfriend with no shirt, a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips as he carefully braids your hair with his lip between his teeth.

“You always braid your hair but then complain your arms hurt from keeping them up for so long soo… why not make myself useful.” He shrugs like it’s not a big deal.

Your heart did a cartwheel, might have exploded in your chest from how fast it’s beating. But nothing new. You were so accustomed to the feeling of butterflies flying in your stomach whenever he would do or say something to you.

He drops the most beautiful phrases anyone has ever told you so casually, like it was normal. But that was your normal since you met him.

You would hear your friends talk shit about their boyfriends, how they did something or what they didn’t do, but you really just never had anything bad to say about Jungkook. He basically took "Princess treatment" to another level.

You never had to ask for flowers, never had to pull out a chair, never had to open a door, never had to enter a car freezing... because Jungkook being Jungkook went out twenty minutes earlier to turn on the heater before you would get in.

Never had to worry about leaving your wallet at home when the only thing in your bag is lip gloss. Never having to turn on your brain whenever he was around.

Locked doors? Where are the house keys? Did you leave your curler on? Jungkook got it.

“That’s so much better than mine,” you point to his ice cream as your eyes widen from how the creamy flavors melt into your mouth. “So bo—mb!” You muffle out from the mouthful of ice cream shoved into your mouth.

“Let me try yours,” he opens his mouth, waiting for you to send a spoonful of your cookies and cream into his mouth. “Here comes the airplane! Brrr,” you try making airplane noises as your hand does a weird twirl before inserting the spoonful of ice cream into your smiley boyfriend.

“Mhm,” he nods his head, humming loudly, watching you smile at him.

“I actually like yours better, baby. Let’s trade?” Jungkook hands you his small cup of ice cream as you nod happily, while you hand him yours.

Jungkook watches with the biggest smile on his face while inserting another spoonful of the creamy content as he watches you eating the new ice cream flavor enthusiastically, hearing you rave about the new book you have just finished reading and how dumb the main character is.

Jungkook's heart aches, sizing double its size, beating hard in his chest. Your cheeks and nose are rosy from the cold outside the car. You both didn’t care about eating ice cream in the middle of cold December; you guys took it as a challenge on who would get sick first.

He laughs at the lighthearted jokes you threw at him, while you take another big spoonful of the chunky ice cream that was his not so long ago.

Little did you know that he really didn’t like your ice cream flavor.

When Jungkook first met you, he knew from the start that he was a goner. The way you smile at him, how your eyes will have a small glint on them whenever you look at him, or the way you would scrunch your nose if you found something funny or cute.

It took him by surprise when you pulled the move on him, thinking you found something disgusting when you first did it.

“I will literally eat you right now!” You scrunch your nose at your smiling boyfriend who’s slightly kneeling for you to be able to see your initial carved into his haircut.

“So that means you like it?” Jungkook stands up and spins to face you. You stare up at him, his dimples on full display looking down at you with your cute outfit he helped you pick on FaceTime.

“I fucking love it baby!! I have the urge to crawl inside your skin,” you bite your lip containing the laugh you’re trying hard to contain, failing miserably when Jungkook raises an eyebrow with a smirk on his face. “That’s… cute,” he replies before kissing off the little nose scrunch he loves so much off your face.

“Is that like your ‘cutie mark’?” You quip, your arms wrapping themselves around his shoulders. “Cutie mark?” He asks, a hint of interest in his voice while he wraps his arms around your waist pulling you closer to him.

“You never watched My Little Pony?” You fake gasp, eyes widening.

“I’ve heard of it, but me sitting down to watch ponies with superpowers… yeah, no.” Jungkook squeezes your waist as he explains.

“You suck,” you roll your eyes playfully sticking your tongue out before entangling yourself off his arms and making your way to the couch.

“Come big baby, we are watching My Little Pony.” You pat the empty couch space beside you.

He watched every season... all nine seasons with you.

Jungkook just wanted to make your life easier; you were always known for being “Miss Independent” in your family and amongst your friends, but here you were letting a man put your heels on for you.

“Too loose or…?” Your boyfriend looks up to you from his kneeling-down position in front of you.

“You look really good on your knees, sir.” You say instead with a sly smirk on your face, ignoring his question. “Pshh,” he rolls his eyes as he chuckles, tying a bow on your lace-up heels.

“Since when do you not flirt back?” You pout watching your boyfriend repeat his actions on the other foot. “Since we are late... and can’t be any more late.” He looks up with a mischievous grin on his face.

“Psh, okay.” You blow out in defeat as your boyfriend chuckles underneath you.

“Come on princess, let's go!” He stands up, giving you a hand for you to stand up off the bed.

The long rides to your guys' destinations were your favorite; Jungkook had given you the “passenger princess” award ever since you set foot in his car. He even installed a light-up mirror on your sun visor whenever you needed to fix your hair or makeup in the car.

Jungkook would listen to your little playlists. He still remembers when you explained to him that each playlist has a different emotion, which made him laugh. Now, anytime you played a song, he would ask you what emotion you were feeling right now.

“What emotion are you feeling right now baby?” He squeezes your thigh as he stops at a red light. The reddish hue illuminates your guy's face. “In love,” you turn your head to the side, staring at your boyfriend who’s already looking at you.

His eyes twinkle as he stares at you, a big smile adorns his face. As you mirror his actions before leaning in and giving him a kiss on the lips, his eyelids immediately flutter close.

“‘Cause I got my mind on you... I’ve got my mind on you.”

Plays softly from the car speaker; you smile into the kiss. “I love you.” He whispers softly. “I love you.” You whisper back.

[ariestrxsh]

⚠️ content warning: ⚠️ smut, mentions of porn, mentions of masturbation, corruption of innocence, oral, praise, slight daddy kink, manipulative!matt, manipulative!chris, innocent!reader

📝 author's note: 📝 this is part two of 'playground love.' 💖 you can read part one here, and i'll be adding more parts to this storyline soon. :)

✍️ Summary: ✍️ You're an innocent virgin who has fallen into the hands of Matt and Chris, who decide to have a contest to see who can eat you out the best.

playground love part two 💖

The next day, you floated into seventh period, and Matt greeted you by glancing you up and down, giving you a look that said I know what you did last night. You wore your hair in two braids while a few loose pieces framed your bright smile. You were blushing and having a hard time looking into his eyes while you elegantly placed your textbooks on your desk and slung your backpack over your chair.

"Hi, sweetheart. You're glowing," he complimented you, grinning and taking in how pretty you looked. "Thank you," you whispered, smoothing out your sundress and taking your seat. "I'm dying to know. Which video did you cum to, darling?" Matt quietly wondered, fidding with his pencil. "Cum?" You'd never heard that word before, but you had an idea as to what he meant. "It's a fancy word for that really good feeling before all the tension goes away," Matt explained, giggling at your innocence.

"Oh! I know what feeling you're talking about," you smirked at him, recalling the way you came all over your fingers the night before. You started to describe the video to him, and he immediately knew which one you were talking about. "Yeah? What was it about that one that you liked so much, princess?" Matt asked, reaching over and stroking your cheek. You bit your lip and peered down. "Well, I loved how gentle the guy was and how much he focused on making the girl feel good for her first time. Plus, I liked that he kind of looked like you," you admitted, looking back up at Matt to study his reaction.

"That's so flattering, darling. Did you notice the girl in the video kind of looked like you?" He asked, biting his lip. You shyly nodded. "That's why I sent you that one, princess. So you could imagine me and you together," he whispered, making really intense eye contact with you. You felt yourself growing wet at his words.

"Matt, you're making me all horny again," you quietly whined, reaching under your dress to soothe the sensation arising. "What are you doing?!" Matt asked in a loud whisper while he watched you starting to rub your clit in circles over your panties. "I'm masturbating," you quietly answered. "Sweetheart, not here," he said, looking at you with wide eyes and an embarrassed smile. "Why not?" You moaned quietly while you continued to touch yourself under the skirt of your dress. "I'm serious. You could get in trouble! Stop that," Matt responded in a hushed voice while he felt his jeans growing tighter around the erection forming in his jeans as he watched you.

"Oh," you naively answered him, stopping what you were doing and discretely removing your hand from under your clothing. "Is it bad?" You asked, wondering if Matt had taught you something he shouldn't have. "No, it's not bad. It's just something you do in private, that's all. Not at school," he explained to you. He was so turned on by your innocence that he almost wanted you to keep going, but more than that, he was looking out for you. "Oh, okay," you said, growing red with embarrassment. "Don't worry. No one saw," he assured you since the two of you sat in the very back corner of the class.

"Hey, are you busy this afternoon? I want you to meet my brother Chris. Do you think we could all go over to your house after school?" Matt hungrily licked his lips while he imagined all the things they were going to do to your sweet, innocent, little pussy. You knew of Matt's brothers. You had a class with Nick the year before, and you'd seen Chris around, but you'd never spoken to him.

"Okay, sure. I'm not busy. What are we gonna do?" You eagerly asked. "Well, Chris and I are gonna hold a contest, and we want you to be the judge," he smirked at you. "What kind of contest?" You wondered. "It's gonna be a surprise, okay, princess?" Matt replied with a mischevious glint in his eye. "Sure. You guys can come over," you eagerly nodded at him. "Okay, sweetheart. Your parents working again today?" Matt inquired. "Yeah, my mom's pulling a double at the hospital, and my dad left town this morning for a business trip," you responded. "Perfect. Let's walk to my car together after class, and I'll have Chris meet us there," he smirked.

"Meet me at my car after school. Her parents are both gone all night.. Operation Tag Team is on," Matt quickly typed out and sent to Chris. "Oh, the things we're gonna do to her.." Chris texted back immediately.

You and Matt walked to his car after class was dismissed. It was another cloudy, spring afternoon, and it wasn't raining today, but the humidity lingered in the air like it could start at any moment. Matt opened the passenger door for you. "We're gonna wait here for Chris," Matt smiled at you once he'd gotten into the driver's seat and started up his car. The faint smell of lemon and gasoline filled your nostrils while you felt the rumbling of the engine beneath your seat. You were starting to grow extremely comfortable and safe with Matt, but you were nervous about meeting Chris. You didn't know what he would be like.

Before you could imagine the qualities of his personality, Chris was pulling on the handle of the backdoor of Matt's car and jumping into the middle seat. "Hi, I'm Chris," he grinned at you breathlessly from having run across the parking lot. "Hi," you smiled back, picking up on his scattered and playful energy. "Matt tells me your parents got a big house," Chris smiled at you. "It's a decent size," you humbly responded. You studied his blue eyes that were the same shade as Matt's, the rosy color in his cheeks from being out of breath, and his sharp jawline. You felt a bit guilty, because you really liked Matt, but you couldn't deny how cute Chris was.

"She's being modest, Chris. It's like a mansion," Matt smiled at Chris through the rearview mirror while he threw the transmission in drive and started to pull away from the school. "Matt tells me you're a good girl. Never get into trouble or nothing," Chris seductively spoke, eyeing you like he was hunting you. You picked up on his dark stare, and it made you feel a bit uneasy, but at the same time, intrigued. His demeanor reminded you of an excited dog, but one whose bite was just as mean as their bark. "I guess you could say that," you responded to Chris, dancing over his lips with your eyes.

"Matt told me he showed you some videos yesterday," he smirked at you. "Chris!" Matt exclaimed, knowing his comment might make you shut down. "He did. I really liked them," you mumbled under your breath, growing nervous at the subject change. "You know what Matt forgot to tell me? How cute you are," Chris cooed while he gently poked your button nose with the tip of his pointer finger, teasing you. You blushed. "Did you touch yourself to them?" Chris deviously smiled at you. Your defenses went up. You became a little more red and hesitantly nodded your head.

"Did you have an orgasm, princess?" Chris inquired, reaching out and gently running his fingers along your braid while you were turned around in your seat looking at him. You nervously shot a look over at Matt, who had just stopped at a stop sign and was turning on his blinker. "Is that the same as cum?" You bit your lip. Chris' cock twitched at how innocent you were, how you didn't even know what the word orgasm meant. "Yes, princess. Good job," Matt praised you.

You turned back to Chris to answer his question. "I did. It was my first one," you replied, your eyes twinkling. "First ever?" Chris raised his brow and his lips fell slightly open while he imagined you experiencing an orgasm for the first time. You nodded at him. "Tell me how it felt, baby. How did your body react?" Chris eagerly asked, leaning in closer to you. You noticed the bulge in his sweatpants while he spoke to you.

"It felt like the end of a firework show, where they have to use up the rest of the fireworks, so it's just a bunch of colorful explosions in the sky," you said getting really excited. "And my whole body was shaking I couldn't control it, and I had to try my best to be really quiet. Then I got this gooey stuff on my fingers. It felt really amazing, and it's all I've been able to think about all day," you smiled at Chris, wondering if maybe you'd overshared, but both Chris and Matt seemed to like the details you gave.

"Wow, princess. That sounds lovely," Matt whispered, glancing back and forth between you and the road. "I'd kill to see you like that," Chris gnawed on his lip. You blushed and let out a nervous giggle. Matt glared at Chris in the rearview to let him know he was coming on too strong.

Finally, the three of you pulled up to the house, and Matt parked in your driveway. "Wow," Chris whispered, taking in the view of your home while he stepped out of the backseat. "Wait until you see the inside," you whispered, dropping the humble manner your parents trained you to speak in for just a moment.

When Chris walked in, he ogled at the high ceilings, the big windows, the spiral staircase, the bookshelf built into the wall in the main room, and the few pieces of expensive art on the walls. "Not bad," Chris replied with a look of disbelief on his face at how gorgeous and fancy your house was. "I'll show you my room," you told them, starting up the spiral staircase. Chris and Matt lagged behind you, eyeing your legs, your curves, and your perfectly-shaped ass as you led the way.

"Wow, princess. Your room is almost as pretty as you," Chris told you once the three of you were standing in front of your bed, and you swooned at his comment. Chris and Matt both soon turned their attention toward you, undressing you with their eyes and hungrily licking their chops like begging dogs. "What was the contest you were talking about earlier, Matt?" You asked, taking a seat on your bed and looking up at the two brothers.

Matt walked up to you and started carressing your face. "We wanted to start by making you feel really good," he whispered, looking down at you. "Really? How?" This sparked your curiosity. Matt and Chris both sat on either side of you. "Well, first, we were gonna get you out of this dress," Matt said, pushing up the hem of your clothing and seductively tracing circles on the inside of your thigh. "And then we were gonna take turns putting our mouths right here," Chris cooed, his voice dripping with lust while he took his pointer finger and placed it on the wet spot on the front of your pink cotton panties. You gasped and bit your lip. Chris and Matt both delighted in how responsive you were to their words and their touch.

"You wanna put your mouth there?" You asked, shocked that anyone would want to do that to you. "Only if you're okay with it, princess," Matt whispered, his hands wandering from your thigh to your perky breasts. You gasped as he flicked his finger over the smooth fabric, stimulating your nipple and making it hard under your soft sundress. "I think I'd like that," you nodded in agreement. You watched the way the girls in the videos reacted when they that done to them, and it made you curious about what it was like.

"So, we're gonna take turns licking your pussy, and then after we both make you cum, you're gonna tell who was better at it, okay?" Chris cooed, rubbing your clit through your panties. You moaned and nodded at their request, dying to know how each of their tongues felt. Their hands all over your body had you in a trance.

Matt tilted your head towards him and locked his eyes on yours before leaning in and passionately kissing you. His lips were smooth and soft, and his kiss was gentle and sensual. He cupped your face and moaned against your bottom lip before slipping his tongue into your mouth. Once he pulled away, you were left with a warm, tingly sensation all over. Matt started to remove your dress. "Lift your arms, pretty girl," Chris whispered as his lips bumped your earlobe and sent goosebumps all over your body. Matt pulled your clothes off over your head and tossed the fabric to the side.

At the same time, they both locked their soft, wet lips onto each of your nipples. You let out a moan while their mouths engulfed the little bumps on your chest. You were pleasantly surprised by how wonderful of a feeling it was. Their tongues swirled around delicately while they each looked up at you, longingly, to see your reaction. "Who do you want to go first, hmm?" Matt cooed, moaning with your sensitive bud between his lips.

"You, please," you responded quietly, still getting to know Chris and not feeling quite as comfortable with him yet. Chris pulled his mouth from your sensitive nipple and started kissing your neck. His kisses were rushed and aggressive, and you felt his teeth gently sink into you, causing you to whine from how nice it felt.

Matt got down on his knees in front of you and started leaving pecks on your knees and the tops of your legs. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, spreading you open and leaving wet kisses on your inner thighs. His eyes flicked up at you, and your breath hitched in your throat while he teased you through your panties with his mouth, making your pussy drool. He motioned for you to lift your hips while he took off your underwear, and he spread open your lips, admiring the way your vulva looked up close.

"You're so wet," he whispered before slowly lowering his mouth onto you. You felt your whole body begin to buzz with pleasure. It was unlike anything you'd ever felt, even better than your fingers the night before. Matt was gentle, and he licked you slowly and tenderly, taking his time and flicking his tongue thoughtfully over your swollen bundle of nerves. He closed his lips around it and hummed. "Oh," you softly moaned while you felt the vibrations against your clit.

While Matt worked his skillfull mouth below your waist, Chris continued running his hands all over your breasts, and he continued leaving sloppy kisses and love bites on your neck, your collar bones, and on your nipples. You were feeling rather shy by sharing such an intimate moment with the two brothers, so you closed your eyes and went to block your face with your hand. "Sweetheart, I wanna see you. Look at me while I lick you. Please," Matt pleaded with you. "Don't get shy on us, darling," Chris hummed against your chest.

Despite how self-conscious you felt, you removed your hand and peered down at Matt while he worked wonders with his tongue. You watched as he made slow circular motions with it while he held intense eye contact. "Good girl," Chris whispered in your ear while he watched Matt. Matt pulled away for a moment and started rubbing you with his fingers.

"How does it feel, baby?" He asked you, his chin glistening with your wetness. It was the best feeling in the world. "I know why the girls in the videos like this so much," you cried out while he went back to work with his mouth. "Mmmmm. Good," he hummed against your folds again. This time, he moved his lips down further while he started to tease your hole, gently prodding it with his tongue. You let out a few less controlled whimpers while Matt slurped up your juices and sensually explored your sex.

You felt a familiar feeling welling in your lower belly, but before the feeling could build up, Matt pulled away and said, "I want you to sit on my face." You'd seen this in one of the videos Matt sent you, but you didn't think you'd ever be sitting on anyone's face, much less the boy you had a crush on. "Are you sure I'm not going to hurt you?" You nervously asked, worried you'd break his neck or suffocate him. "I promise, princess. I can handle it," he giggled, laying back on the bed.

You put your knees on either side of his head and lowered yourself onto his tastebuds. He enveloped your thighs with his arms, pulling all of your weight onto him while he amorously drank from your center as if you were a sweet piece of fruit. "Oh, Matt!" You cried out while his tongue methodically fluttered all around your most intimate spot. You started to relinquish control of your movements, involuntarily rolling your hips forward and riding Matt's face while his lustful blue eyes peered up at you.

Your eyes began to roll back, and your lips fell open while you lost yourself in a euphoric, climactic sensation that drained all thoughts from your mind and momentarily altered your consciousness. Your pussy throbbed against Matt's tongue as you came undone, every nerve ending sensitive to the highest degree. Matt delighted in the taste of your sweetness, the cute sounds you made while you came, and the way your body jerked against him.

"Good girl," Matt whispered in your left ear after it was over and you were sitting at the edge of your bed drinking a cold glass of water Chris had brought you from downstairs while you caught your breath. Sitting on your right was the other brother, eagerly waiting for his turn. "I can't wait to make you finish all over my tongue, princess," Chris whispered, kissing the side of your face and trailing his lips down to your jaw.

"Look at me," he demanded, and when you did, his lips crashed into yours. His kiss was needy and demanding. Matt took the cup of water from your hands while his brother ventured the inside of your teeth with his tongue. Despite having just had a mind-shattering orgasm, Chris' wet, plump lips engulfing your own sent waves of pleasure throughout your nervous system, and you felt a nagging sensation between your legs, begging to be taken care of once again. "How do you feel, princess?" Chris asked, after pulling back from the kiss and looking at you.

"You're making me all tingly again," you whimpered to him. "Where? Right here?" Chris said, delving between your legs with his hand and gently rubbing your pussy. "Mhmm," you purred. "Tell me what you want, pretty girl," Chris whispered, taunting you with his fingers dancing between your thighs. "Put your mouth on it," you responded in a sultry sigh. "Beg for it," he smirked at you. "Please put your mouth on my pussy," you whined, growing needier by the second. "How bad do you want it?" He murmured into your ear. "More than anything. Please. I need it," you cried out, growing increasingly more impatient. "Of course, princess. Daddy's gonna give you what you need," Chris whispered, descending to his knees.

He pulled your legs apart, grabbed you by your waist and pulled your pussy closer to his face. You let out a squeal as this pulled you from a sitting position to a reclined one. Matt adjusted, so you were leaning up against his chest while you eagerly watched Chris as he started eating you. Matt caressed your arms and whispered into your ear how beautiful you looked. The second Chris' lips wrapped around your clit while he flickered his tongue across it fervently, your head fell back against Matt and you let out a moan. He smirked up at you, admiring your responsiveness, your eagerness, and your innocence.

His velvet-like tongue slithered around your folds, sloppily teasing your clit. "You like when daddy eats your pretty pussy?" Chris cooed, taking your vulva into his mouth once more. He adored the way you couldn't help but nod and bite your lip while you suppressed a whimper. You didn't know why Chris referred to himself like that, but for some reason, you kind of liked it. He devoured you, urgently exploring your heat, tweaking your clit with his tongue at such an incredible rate, it felt like his mouth was vibrating against you. "Oh, Chris," you moaned, bucking your hips and grinding against his tongue.

"You're mad cute when you can't get enough of my tongue," he whispered right before he took your little bundle of nerves between his lips and started sucking on it. The suction sent an electric current throughout all your extremities, causing you to pathetically writhe around while Matt supported you.

"Can you believe we just met an hour ago, and I already have you squirming around, moaning my name while I give you head?" He snickered, delighting in how special he and Matt must have been to you for you to feel safe enough to let them have you in such a way that no one else was worthy of up until now. You shook your head, nibbling on your lower lip and wondering how they'd talked you into this, but extremely thankful they did.

The way he spoke to you and watched you while he did such incredible things to you was almost enough to make you cum, but he drew back and stopped for a second, leaving you craving more. "I want you to turn around and stick your ass in the air for me," he demanded. You scoffed at the absurdity of his request. You weren't sure what he meant or why he wanted that, but you reluctantly followed his direction.

There you were, your face buried in a pillow, your knees beneath your hip points, and your bottom sticking up. Suddenly, you felt his wet mouth attacking you from the back. "Oh my god," you cried out while Chris worked magic with his remarkable tongue, swirling it about your pussy, leaving nothing untouched. He hungrily licked, picking up the pace, drawing faster and tighter circles around your clit while he spread you open with his fingers, causing you to lose all composure. "Chris, I think you're gonna make me cum," you cried as something took over your body. You began to shake, the muscles in your core began to twitch, and you could no longer see or think straight.

Your orgasm hit you like a wave, cresting and cascading over you, pulling you under, and leaving you breathless while you drowned in pure satisfaction. Chris cleaned you up with his tongue, slurping up your sweetness and not drawing back until he fully finished you off. "You taste so good, baby girl," Chris whispered, lapping up the last of the mess.

Once you regained your composure, Matt handed you your glass of water again, and they sat on either side of you at the edge of the bed again. "So? What did you think?" Matt questioned, fiddling with your braid and caressing your cheek while he admired your flushed expression and your glazed over eyes from the high you were still riding. "I can't pick who was better. You were both so good for different reasons," you pouted looking between the two of them, knowing they wanted a definitive answer but unable to give it to them.

"What did you like about it, princess?" Matt wondered, dying to hear your answer. "Matt, I loved how you were so slow and gentle, and the way you looked at me the whole time. It was also really fun to sit on your face," you responded, a bit embarrassed to admit that.

"And Chris," you said, turning to the other brother, "I loved the way you talked to me, and the way you moved your tongue so fast.. I didn't even know that was possible. And I really liked it when you called yourself daddy," You bit your lip, also a bit embarrassed to admit that.

"It's okay that you can't choose between the two of us, princess. It's flattering, really. We're just so happy we could make you feel good," Matt smiled at you. "We have a couple more things we want you to judge us on if you're up for it," Chris sneered, giving you a mischevious look. "Yeah, what else?" You eagerly wondered, hoping it would feel as good as what they'd just done.

"Well, we want to know which one of us you think has the prettiest cock."

part three posted here 💖

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[avis-writeshq]

hi ! love ur fics <3

can i request reader as being a massive flirt publicly towards spencer but when its Intimate and Private, reader is suddenly Stunned and Speechless and Blushing and spencer kinda gets the confidence to Do Stuff

im sorry if that was the stupidest described ask ever achh but lov u !

pairing: s9!spencer reid x bau!fem!reader genre: established relationship, bombshell-ish(?) reader, fluff warnings: 16+ for kind of suggestive? he’s so in love UGH a/n: thank you for requesting !! wc: 1.22k

Spencer thinks that you are the most beautiful person in the world. He thinks that you’re glowing every time you walk into the room– no matter how upset or disgruntled you may be– and as cliche as it may seem, he’s certain that swarms butterflies fill his stomach and cloud his mind. In fact, he thinks that you have always had that effect on him, ever since he’s met you. You’re touchy, and despite Spencer’s general aversion to physical touch, he finds that he doesn’t mind your germs much. 

Very often he finds himself at your mercy, with the way your fingers brush against his face as if it’s nothing, as if that movement alone was something that you do with everyone (you’ve only ever done it with him). There are other instances where you’ve been very blatant in your attraction towards him, so much so that he ends up with his cheeks hot more often than not. A part of him is grateful that though you work in the FBI, it isn’t his division. He doubts he’d be able to see the end of it.

“Spencer,” you gush, curling your fingers into the ends of his hair. Or rather, lack of hair. “You got a haircut. You’re supposed to consult me first, you know.”

He laughs, looking up at you as you stand over him while he sits at his desk. “Is that what a good boyfriend is supposed to do?”

“Yes.” You speak with mock indignation, properly running your fingers through his hair from his fringe to the back of his head. “It’s so short.”

“Do you hate it?” There’s a momentary pang of unease that strikes at his heart. “Maybe I should have consulted you.”

“No, baby, it looks really good.” You smile at him, pressing a kiss to his hairline. “You’re warm. Do you have a fever?”

Of course I’m warm, Spencer wants to say while you continue to dote on him, your hands travelling to his collar next and brushing against his throat. You’re touching me in the middle of the bullpen. 

He opts to not say anything when he sees your knowing smile. You’re doing this on purpose. He clicks his tongue, squeezing at your waist lightly as you lean over him to kiss his forehead. He’ll let you win this battle; he’s going to get you back.

***

He doesn’t really know how to get you back. There are a few harmless things he’d thought of doing: sneaking into your department and hiding your mug on the top shelf (he fears that you’d ask someone, a taller more handsome someone, to rescue it for you), not wearing the tie you picked out for him that morning (he can already envision your disappointed frown and his chest aches at the imaginary you getting upset because of him), and putting toothpaste in your Oreos (he doesn’t want to die). 

All of these ideas go down the drain and he ends up not getting back at you for days. It doesn’t help that he’s been gone for a case while you’ve been stuck at home. It isn’t all bad, and a part of him wishes that he can hold himself to the same level of confidence as Derek when Penelope calls him with flirtatious motives. You do virtually the same thing. 

Your words are honey as you shower him with compliments, ending him with a simple “Hey, gorgeous.” 

It is enough to make his heart leap to his throat and his cheeks to warm to a pretty pink. There’s not much overlap between the Human Resources Branch and the BAU, especially considering that you assist more on the training and hiring side of things, so there aren’t many opportunities for you to fluster him when he’s out of the office. He finds that you always make an excuse.

“Hi,” he responds softly, avoiding the teasing gazes of Emily and Derek. “Is… are you okay?”

“Do I need to not be okay to talk to my lovely boyfriend?” 

You’re teasing him, poking fun at the way he so easily surrenders to you. He resists the urge to run out the room. 

“Stop,” he warns half-heartedly. He says your name quietly, tapping his fingers at the edge of the table. “Is there something you needed?”

He can practically hear you smile as you respond, the sound of your mouse clicking in the background. “Oh, yeah. My computer says that my storage is full. What do I do?”

“Your storage is full,” he repeats, smiling. “That’s why you called me?”

“It’s lunchtime in Santa Monica, right?”

He relents, cheeks hurting from how hot and stretched out they are. “Yes.”

“Then it shouldn’t be a problem.” 

He puffs out a breath of air, running his fingers through his hair. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You’re lovely.” He can imagine you batting your eyes, your smile saccharine. “Don’t you wish that you were here, gorgeous?”

He’s definitely going to get you back.

*** 

Spencer goes to your apartment once the case ends, his eyes dreary with sleep and the horrors that he saw only a few hours prior. Your apartment key hangs next to his on his keychain– a limited edition Tardis charm that you got him for his birthday. He huffs out a breath, unlocking your door and stepping inside. He’s met with you dancing around in your kitchen, headphones on whilst holding a wooden spoon. A part of him is concerned with how easily he could slip into your home without being notice, but the other part can’t help but smile at how carefree you look, and he leans against the wall to stare. 

He doesn’t get the opportunity to stare for long. It’s comical, the way you jump upon seeing him, eyes wide as you rip your headphones off. 

“You’re back! You scared me.” A smile stretches across your lips while you press your palm to your chest whilst taking steps towards him. “Don’t do that ever again.”

Spencer laughs, toeing his shoes off and resting his hands on your waist. His head dips down to meet your gaze, peering up at you with a soft smile. “You look beautiful.”

Your cheeks glow warm and you break eye contact. “Yeah?”

“Mm.” He hooks his pointer finger under your chin, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “I missed you.”

He notes the way you don’t respond, in some sort of daze while your lips part in both surprise and flusteredness. He understands your sentiments– it isn’t often that he initiates affection. 

“Did you miss me, too?” Spencer asks softly, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he speaks. 

“Of course I did,” you croak out, heat building in your head. 

Spencer chuckles, a smug smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. He’s doing this on purpose, flustering you to the point of no return. He kisses you again, one hand holding the base of your head while the other squeezes at the flesh of your waist. It’s dizzying, the taste of coffee on his tongue and the feel of his fingers in your hair. 

“Hey, gorgeous,” he murmurs once he’s pulled away. His thumb rubs a line from the back of your ear to where your jawline starts, and he can’t help but chuckle. “Where did that confidence go, hm?”

reblogs are always appreciated!

[etheries1015]

The moment Vil fell in love with you, was one of the most vulnerable moments he had ever experienced. It was something that had caught him completely unawares, and never thought he'd fall for someone, much less the prefect of ramshackle.

Spoilers for the end of book 6, if you have not gotten that far.

The ride back to NRC from the island of woe was an exhausting one, to say the least. Everyone was groaning in mild annoyance at Vils sobbing at his now olden state, a wrinkled face with sunken cheeks and grey hair...something he feared more than anything in the world. Nobody actually blamed him, though, for anybody else would react as strongly to see their youth stripped away without even the hint of getting back their original form. Ugly, old, and gross, are all words Vil would go on to describe himself. You felt pity for him of course, but you were just as exhausted as everyone else.

Vil watched you in surprise as you stood up in a sleepy haze, wobbling to the (now) old man and cupping his sunken cheeks into your lively hands.

"Vil," You said sternly, the suddenness of your actions causing him to bite back his sobs for merely a moment.

"What you did for us today," You said with confidence in your tired eyes, "Was the most heroic thing I have ever seen. That was the bravest, most selfless act you could have possibly done, and I truly admire you for it, Vil." Your stern eyes softened with a smile mixed with pity and admiration, unconciously stroking his cheek with your thumb in attempt to sooth his trembling figure.

"We will find a way to get your body back. I understand this is a lot, but you need to hold onto faith." Your hands squished his cheeks together in a teasing and playful manner, purposefully causing him unable to respond verbally. Vil simply nodded, and you continued with passion raising your tone of voice.

"Right now, in my eyes, you are the most beautiful person with the biggest heart of gold I've ever met." You leaned forward and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek, something that drew him back with widened eyes. "Now, you must be incredibly tired from all the fighting we did. Try and rest, okay? You need it." He wanted to tell himself you were simply feeding him words of comfort in order to cease his persistent whining, yet with such confidence dripping with every word and small gesture you had no reason for engaging in, that was how he knew you were genuine.

How could you be so willing to kiss him when he looks like...that? How can you call him beautiful when all he sees are wrinkled hands and spotty skin? The word "heroic" also stuck out to him. Years of being played the villain, always unable to make it to the end of a movie, being discarded as the "bad guy," yet here you were, calling him...your hero. His heart skipped a beat and he could feel heat rise to his cheeks. There's no way you of all people could make him feel so...conflicted.

Yet there you were, with stringy sweaty hair, scratches, bruises, mud riddling your skin from hours of fighting for the world. He noticed how his dorm outfit lay in tatters on your body, and bags under your eyes were apparent as you so shamelessly yawned and sat next to him, falling asleep as you leaned up against his shoulder. This was the brazen prefect of Ramshackle- someone with flaws, attitude, and a disastrous display.

Yet at this moment, all he could think about was just how beautiful you looked, too.

[unstable-samurai]

Instructions

Irene x Male Reader

word count: 3.2K

—

You drive up to Irene's mansion, where every inch of the lawn looks meticulously manicured, and the fountain at the entrance shoots water in a pattern that can only be described as "obscenely expensive." You still can't believe you were hired to train a woman who doesn't seem to need a single day in the gym, but money is money, right?

You step out of the car and walk to the front door, a massive wooden structure that probably weighs more than your car. Before you have the chance to knock, the door opens as if the house has been eagerly awaiting your arrival. Irene appears, and the first thing you think is that the photos simply don't do her justice.

She's like an upgraded version of a classic diva, someone with a beauty that would be admired in any era of humanity, now enhanced by all the improvements time could offer. Black hair cascading in soft waves, feline eyes that devour you in a fraction of a second, and a posture that makes you wonder if you're standing before a queen or a trap disguised as a woman.

"Oh, I was excited to finally meet my personal trainer," she says.

"Ms. Irene," you reply, offering your hand in a gesture that feels outdated in her presence. Her hand is soft and firm, and the grip is just enough to make you feel that you are, without a doubt, in foreign territory.

"Come on, I'll show you the house," she says, turning quickly without waiting for a response. You follow her, walking through a house that is a maze of marble, stainless steel, and glass. Every piece of art on the walls screams in a flamboyant way, "I have more money than you can imagine," and the faint scent of fresh flowers lingers in the air, as if even the aroma of the house was custom-made.

"This here is the living room," she says, passing through a room larger than your entire apartment, and you pretend not to be impressed. "And over there is the kitchen. You might need something to drink after the workouts. Or during, if I decide to tire you out too much."

She smiles again, and this time you can’t help but smile back, with that kind of irony that only arises when you know you're in trouble.

"This is the bedroom," she says, stopping in front of a closed door. You feel the tension rise a bit, and she notices it. "Not that you’ll need it, but I thought you'd like to know where it is." She opens the door and reveals a room that looks like it came straight out of a decor magazine: an immense bed, silk sheets, and a view of the garden that seems hand-painted.

"Nice place," you say, more out of politeness than anything else.

"Thank you. Now, the gym," she says, as if this was the true purpose of the entire visit. She leads you to a room where all the exercise machines seem to shine with newness. "I need to stay in shape, after all," she says, leaning casually on a treadmill, her posture suggesting that the idea of sweat is something completely alien.

"Shall we begin, then?" you ask, already pulling out the water bottle from your bag, trying to appear professional.

You decide to start the session with the basics, which seems like the best approach when dealing with someone whose idea of physical effort probably consists of reaching for the remote control.

"So, Irene, have you trained before?" you ask, but in your mind, she doesn’t exactly look like the type who frequents a gym.

She smiles, that smile you're already beginning to associate with trouble. "Only if you count marathon shopping trips and half-hour Pilates sessions with my instructor who told me to breathe deeply and think of happy places. Does that count?"

You smile back. "Well, let's start with something simple. A warm-up. Just to prepare the muscles."

"Oh, I love a good warm-up," she replies.

You guide her through some basic stretches, and of course, she starts asking for help. "Can you show me how to do this one? I've always had trouble with it," she says while trying to touch her toes.

You approach, placing your hands on her waist to guide her, trying to ignore the fact that she’s perfumed for a workout. "Like this, push a little further forward... That’s it."

She lets out a soft sigh, almost inaudible, but you notice. "I don't think I've ever had someone help me like this," she says, making you realize that "help" has multiple connotations for her.

"Practice makes perfect," you respond, trying to stay focused.

After the warm-up, you lead her to the weight machines. "Let's start with something simple, like the leg extension machine. This will work your quadriceps."

She looks at the machine as if it were some kind of medieval torture device. "Quadriceps... Right. And this does what exactly? Makes me gain muscles?"

"Exactly. You sit here, adjust the weight, and lift your legs to extend the knee. It’s great for toning the thighs."

She sits down, but instead of following your instructions, she just pretends to be confused. "I don't think I'm getting it. Can you show me again?"

You lean in to help her adjust the position of her legs, and you feel her gaze fixed on you. "Like this? Is it good now?" she asks, her voice softer than it should be for a simple exercise instruction.

"Yes, it's perfect," you reply.

"So, have you been training for a long time?" she asks as you guide her through the exercise. "It’s noticeable, you know... by your physique, the way you explain…"

"I’ve been training for a few years. It’s a passion of mine."

"Passion? Interesting," she says. "And are you single? Or is there someone waiting for you at home after you spend the day helping women like me stay in shape?"

You hesitate, realizing that the conversation is veering off course.

"I'm single. I guess my work takes up most of my time. What about you? You told me your husband is always traveling, right?"

"He's away most of the time, yes. His work is... demanding. But luckily, I know how to take care of myself," she says, lifting her legs on the machine with a little more enthusiasm. When Irene was done, she paused to drink water, then walked between the machines until she chose the next one. “Hey, help me here. I don't want to mess up the movement, I need your guidance." She says, standing in front of the lat pulldown machine.

"Oh, great. This one’s for your back and shoulders," you explain, adjusting the weight. "You hold here, pull the bar down, and then release slowly, feeling the resistance."

She looks at the machine as if it were an abstract art piece.

"Looks complicated. Show me how it's done?"

You demonstrate the movement, feeling her eyes on every motion of your body. When you finish, she positions herself, but instead of pulling the bar, she holds it for a second, looking at you with a false expression of confusion. "I think I’m not doing it right. Can you guide me?"

You approach again, this time placing your hands on her arms, helping her execute the movement. "Like this," you say, your voice a little lower. "Pull with your back muscles, not just your arms."

"Since you’ve been working out for a long time, you must be very strong," she comments as she pulls the bar, her muscles tensing softly under your hands. "And you must be used to lifting heavy, right?"

"It depends on the workout," you respond, trying to ignore the fact that every word she says seems to have a double meaning. "But it’s always good to vary, to do a bit of everything."

"So, how many of these should I do?" she asks, as if she’s genuinely interested in the answer, but her eyes say something else.

"Let's do three sets of twelve reps," you reply, trying to keep a professional tone. She does the first set with you close by, watching every movement, and then asks for your help with the next machine.

The dynamic continues until, by the end of the workout, she’s sweating, but in a way that looks more like a healthy glow than discomfort. She stretches, her muscles relaxing, and looks at you with that same smile that started everything. "I think you made me work pretty hard today. Maybe I’ll need a massage afterward," she says, her tone provocative.

You smile, unsure whether to take her seriously or laugh. "Massages aren’t part of the package, but we can talk about a relaxation stretch."

"We’ll see," she says, stepping closer with that smile that always precedes trouble, the kind you should have learned to avoid. “It seems like I’m the only one sweating here,” she says, with a sweetness that’s pure venom, before leaning in and, without warning, licking your cheek.

You take a step back, your heart pounding in your chest. "Ms. Irene, what is this?!"

"I told you, you’re not very sweaty. And I licked you to prove it," she responds with the casualness of someone asking the time.

"But what the hell does that mean? I came here to work—"

"And you’ll get paid at the end, of course!" she interrupts, her smile widening in a way that only makes things worse. “I just want… to have a little fun with you. Include that in the deal. You could earn a bonus for it, if you’d like.”

She takes another step forward.

“Irene, you’re married. Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not a good idea.”

“No one needs to know, sweetheart,” she whispers, as if it were a secret you truly wanted to hear. “You’re too young to be so worried about life.”

You try to speak, but the words come out jumbled, as if your mouth forgot how to work.

“I-I… This isn’t right.”

She laughs, a sound that makes you feel like a mischievous boy caught in the act. “I bet I’ll make you change your mind once you see what you’re missing.” With a quick, decisive movement, she removes her top, revealing small, pale, perfect, and provocative breasts. Her smile widens, and you feel your face flush with heat. Worse than that—you feel your cock pulse in your pants.

“What do you think?” she asks, each word dripping with irony and certainty.

“Cover yourself, please!” Your voice comes out louder than you intended, but the plea is almost pathetic.

“Oh, don’t play the saint with me,” she retorts, suddenly stepping closer, grabbing your hand with firm resolve and placing it on her breast. The touch is warm and soft. You swallow hard, but it feels like the lump in your throat is stuck there for good. And the worst part? You can’t pull your hand away.

“What do you think? My boobs are small, but they fit perfectly in your mouth,” she teases, her voice lower, more intense.

“This isn’t right, Ms. Irene…” you try, but your resistance is fragile.

“Shh! Just call me Irene,” she orders, and before you can protest again, she seals any chance of escape with a kiss—warm and commanding, as if she already knew you wouldn’t say no.

Before you could even process what was happening, Irene had already wrapped her hand around your cock. With force. With a desire that you felt reverberate down your spine. “You’re so hard for me,” she whispers, her lips pulling away from yours, but the heat of her proximity still clinging to your skin.

“Irene…” you murmur, the name escaping as a whisper, almost a plea, but for what? For her to stop or to keep going?

“That’s right,” she continues, giving you no room to regain control. “I want to hear you moan my name while you fuck me good.”

Before you could refuse—or worse, agree—she pulls you toward a weight bench like she’s practiced the move a thousand times. It’s astonishing how a woman so small, so delicate, can exert such absolute control over you. You feel like a toy in her hands, powerless to resist.

You take off your shirt while she kneels to untie your shoes, making sure every detail is perfect, that you’re comfortable—but not for you, for her. When she asks you to take off the rest, you comply without question, feeling the cool air caress your exposed skin. She compliments your physique, her words sliding over your skin like hot oil. Her hands roam over your muscles, her fingers tracing the contours of your biceps.

“You’re so hot,” she murmurs, kissing your chest, her lips warm and soft. The excitement builds within you, uncontrollable, wild.

You sit back down on the bench, Irene kneels between your legs, her smile a mix of wickedness and pure desire. She takes your cock with a confidence that makes you hold your breath, her touch firm, almost possessive. “Wow… you’re much bigger and thicker than my husband,” she murmurs, licking the tip, teasing, while her eyes remain fixed on yours. “I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to have something like this… I’m going to love gagging on this cock.”

She slowly opens her mouth, her lips stretching around the head of your cock, and the sensation is mind-blowing. You watch, mesmerized, as she starts to take you in, inch by inch, until her mouth is completely full. “Oh, yes,” she mumbles with difficulty, her words muffled as she struggles to accommodate your size.

She begins to move her head up and down, faster and faster, the wet, warm sound of her mouth creating a steady rhythm. Her small mouth adjusts to your cock, fighting the instinct to pull away, but instead, she pushes forward, making it clear she wants more.

The sight of her, drowning on your cock, is almost unbearably arousing. You can’t resist, your hands go to her hair, pulling to gain more control. With a decisive move, you push deeper into her throat, and the muffled moan she lets out is a mix of pleasure and challenge. “Just like that,” she moans, tears welling in her eyes from pleasure and effort, but with no intention of stopping. She wants this as much as you do.

You feel her throat tightening around your cock, each movement sending waves of pleasure through you as she takes you as deep as she can, not giving up even when her air becomes scarce. The mix of pain and pleasure on her face only fuels your desire further, and you continue, deeper and deeper, until she finally has to stop to breathe, gasping, but with a satisfied, lascivious smile on her face.

Irene stands up, her gaze burning with a desire that mirrors your own. She starts to take off her leggings, revealing she’s not wearing any panties. The sight of her like this, naked and ready, is enough to take your breath away.

Without a second thought, you grab her firmly, your hands holding her slim waist as you lift her off the ground with an ease you didn’t even know you had. Irene lets out a low, sensual moan as she wraps her legs around you, locking her ankles behind your back, pulling the two of you even closer. With a decisive movement, you press her against the nearest wall, the cold concrete contrasting with the growing heat between you.

“Ohhh, yes,” she moans as you penetrate her for the first time, her head falling back, hitting the wall, but she doesn’t seem to care. “You’re so thick!”

With each thrust, Irene responds with louder, more desperate moans. “Just like that, baby… more, please, more!” Her voice is a mix of command and plea, her nails digging into your shoulders, pulling you closer, as if she wants to merge with you.

“That’s it! Oh, God! You fuck me better than my husband!”

That somehow spurs you on, every movement becoming deeper, stronger, as if you’re trying to shove every inch of yourself into her. Irene bites her lip, her face in pure pleasure, and then she starts babbling, as if facial expressions weren’t enough to describe what she’s feeling. “Yes… fuck me… fuck me hard… do what my husband never could…”

But she’s not the only one on the edge. The heat of her body, the almost painful tightness around your cock, every moan and sigh, it all makes you want more, makes you lose control.

After what feels like both an eternity and an instant, you feel like you need more. With a quick move, you pull away from the wall and carry her to the bench. Irene drops to the floor, turns around, positioning herself on all fours while you sit down. She positions herself, slowly lowering onto your cock, moaning as she feels you stretch inside her, filling every inch.

She leans back against you, her head resting on your shoulder, her body sinking even further into your lap. Your hands immediately move to her small breasts, squeezing them, while your lips find her delicate neck, biting and sucking the soft skin. Irene lets out a loud moan, the sound of pure satisfaction, and arches her body, pushing herself even deeper.

“Yes… leave a mark… mark that you were here… that you fucked me like no one ever has,” she pleads, her words breathless, interrupted by moans that only grow louder as you squeeze and thrust into her.

You don’t hesitate, biting harder, leaving a visible mark on her neck, a testament to what’s happening. Irene shudders in response, her pussy tightening even more around you, each of her movements sending waves of pleasure through you, making you forget any shred of morality. She moves against you, her rhythm frantic, the need for more, always more, evident in every gesture.

“Yes… yes, baby… fuck me until I can’t take it anymore,” she moans, her hands reaching back, grabbing your neck, pulling you closer as she continues to move, to lose herself in the sensation.

Irene, breathless, leans in closer, and with a soft voice, almost a whisper, says in your ear, “I want you to fuck my tight ass.”

Her words are like a match striking the box, igniting something fierce within you. Irene rises off your lap and walks to a corner of the gym, where she grabs a bottle of lube. She returns with a mischievous smile, shaking the bottle in the air. “I brought this just for this moment,” she says.

“You had this in mind from the start, didn’t you?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

Irene doesn’t bother replying. Instead, she kisses you before lying down on the padded floor, her pale skin contrasting with the dark material, her body exposed in a posture of pure submission, but with the confidence of someone who knows exactly what they want. “Come here, you naughty boy,” she calls, her voice like poisoned honey.

You kneel beside her, your hands trembling with desire as you reach for the lube. Irene smiles at you, then gets on all fours and arches her back. With steady movements, you pour the gel into your palm and begin applying it to her ass, feeling the warm, soft skin under your fingers. Irene lets out a low sigh, closing her eyes, savoring the sensation. "That's it... get me ready, I want to feel every inch of your thick cock inside me."

You don’t waste any time. With one hand, you spread the lube around and inside her ass, your fingers gently penetrating to prepare her. Irene bites her lip, her body slightly writhing, a mix of pleasure and anticipation. "Feels good, keep going... make me ready for you."

When you feel she’s sufficiently lubed, you apply the rest to your cock, rubbing it until it’s fully coated, hard and throbbing.

Irene changes position, lying on her back on the floor. You position yourself between her raised legs, and she looks at you with eyes full of desire. "Come on, don't wait any longer," she begs, her voice low and sweet. You press the tip of your cock against her tight entrance, pushing slowly, feeling the initial resistance. Irene lets out a moan of pain mixed with pleasure, and you keep going, advancing inch by inch, feeling the heat and pressure around you.

"Ahhh… yes," Irene moans, her eyes closed, her hands gripping the padding beneath her as you penetrate her slowly. "It's so big… so tight…"

You keep pushing, feeling her ass open up, millimeter by millimeter, her body adjusting to your size. The heat, the pressure, the sensation of filling her completely is indescribable, and the low moan she lets out only fuels your desire. "Yes, yes, yes! Fuck me deeper," she pleads.

You obey, pushing deeper until you're finally all the way inside her. Irene lets out a muffled moan, a sound of pure satisfaction, her body arching with pleasure. "Yes… like that… don’t stop," she begs, her eyes shining with wild desire. You start to move, slowly at first, savoring every second, every contortion of her body, every moan that escapes her lips.

As you gain rhythm, Irene’s moans grow louder, more desperate. "Yes… fuck my ass… do what I never let my husband do… ahhh… harder… please," she moans, every word an encouragement for you to go deeper, to push both of you to the limit.

And you do, increasing your speed and force, your hands gripping her thighs firmly, guiding each thrust with precision, feeling her body tremble with pleasure until it all comes down to heat, sweat, the pure desire consuming you both.

Irene then begins to tremble, her body stiff with imminent pleasure. She looks at you, her eyes burning with lust and urgency. "Mmm, I’m about to cum, babe… Let’s cum together?" she asks, her voice broken by moans.

You feel her body pulsing around you, each contraction almost pushing you over the edge.

"Do you want to come inside my pussy? Fill it with your cum?"

The desire and madness of the moment take over you. “Can I?” you ask, your voice tense, almost disbelieving.

“Of course you can,” she replies with a wicked smile, "I'm on the pill, darling. I want to feel you unload everything inside me."

With that, you both move into the classic missionary position. Irene spreads her legs and bends them, her feet planted on the floor, while you kneel between her thighs, your cock positioned exactly where she wants it. Irene wraps her legs around your waist, pulling you closer. The warmth and tightness of her pussy confirm your decision: you need to cum inside her.

You start thrusting into her, each stroke deeper and faster than the last. Irene moans loudly, the sound of her moans echoing through the gym. “Ahhh, yes… more… harder…” she screams, her eyes closed in pure ecstasy. “Fuck my pussy… Make me your cum dump.”

You’re on the verge of exploding, your entire body tense with the anticipation of climax. Irene feels it and, between moans, murmurs, “I’m almost there… I’m going to cum…”

“Me too… I’m almost there…” you reply, your breathing fast.

She opens her eyes, her gaze burning with intensity. “Have you ever cum inside a stranger before, huh? Ever filled a married woman with cum, you pervert?” She asks, her words hitting you like a wave of heat.

Those words make you lose control. With one last, powerful thrust, you bury yourself deep inside her, feeling your cum release into the depths of Irene’s pussy. She screams as she cums at the same time, her body writhing beneath you, her legs tightening around your waist.

“Ahhh… I can feel it all… it’s so warm… so good…” Irene moans, her words loaded with pure pleasure, her breathing ragged as she feels every hot stream filling her. You keep moving, even as the orgasm leaves you breathless, prolonging the pleasure for both of you.

When you finally pull away, your cock slipping out, cum begins to slowly drip from her pussy.

Irene smiles, a satisfied and wicked smile, as she looks at you, her breathing still uneven. "That was… exactly what I wanted," she says, her eyes gleaming with contentment, as the cum drips between her thighs, and you watch, fascinated, as she uses her fingers to spread her lips, letting the cum flow freely. She collects some of the semen with a finger and brings it to her mouth, tasting the result of your mix.

Irene kneels beside you and leans in for a deep kiss, her lips warm and moist against yours, while her hands glide over your body, caressing you with a certain tenderness.

“So, handsome, what did you think of the workout?” she asks.

You, still with your body pulsing with residual pleasure, respond with a smile, “I loved it. It was… incredible.”

Irene smiles back. “Good to hear that,” she says, with a note of amusement, “you can consider yourself my official personal trainer now. And the best part, you’re still getting paid for it. Isn’t it the best job in the world?”

You laugh, a mix of incredulity and amusement, realizing that your concept of ‘job’ will never be the same. “So that’s it? Daily sex with a gorgeous woman and I’m going to get paid for it? What are the downsides?”

“There aren’t any. As long as my husband never finds out, of course. But that’s my problem. Your only requirement and concern is to keep me satisfied.”

With that, she gets up nonchalantly, and starts gathering the clothes scattered on the floor.

You also get up, and as you’re dressing, you can’t help but think about the absurdity of the job you’re accepting.

When you’re almost ready to leave, Irene approaches, casually adjusting her hair.

“Don’t forget, tomorrow is training day again,” she says, her voice full of light arrogance. “Same time. Don’t be late. I want more of that… energy,” she adds with a smile.

You nod, laughing to yourself as you try to regain some of your composure.

“Sure, I’ll mark it on the calendar.”

[gloomwitchwrites]

They overhear you telling the team how much you like them and want to have their babies.

ANON! The way I screamed when I first read this prompt. I love shit like this because o-m-g. I had so much fun writing our boys in this scenario. Thank you so much for sending it in!

While there are some sweeter moments, these all lean toward the steamy side but don't cross over fully into spice. But, each is left open enough that you can make up your own mind about what happens! (hehe).

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): mild language, suggestive themes, pregnancy, fluff, feelings

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if series masterlist

John "Soap" MacTavish (wc: 651)

John is grinning like a bloody idiot. Has been for the last few days.

He’s caught your attention, and he’s downright smug about it. Every lingering glance and gentle upturn of your mouth has his skin singing with an intensity that can only be described as a tree burning from the inside out. He’s been after you for months, doing his best to gauge your interest in him.

He thinks he has an in because just yesterday, you touched him. Not a passing touch either but a firm grasp of his upper arm. A squeeze that shot heat straight to his toes and sent blood rushing quickly to an already throbbing need.

You looked him in the eye, brow all soft, mouth puckered slightly in the most gorgeous pout. John wanted to kiss you right then.

He turns the corner, heading into the training room, only to stop dead when he hears your voice. Pausing, he backtracks, pressing himself against the wall but leaning around the corner to listen in.

“Johnny’s been sweet on you,” comes Ghost’s voice. It’s slightly teasing, and John frowns slightly. Ghost would never overstep and steal you out from under him, but he would give him or even you a hard time.

“Has he?” you reply, and it’s breathy.

At this rate, his cheeks are gonna hurt for a week from how stupidly big his grin is.

“Don’t tell us you haven’t noticed,” laughs Gaz. “Soap’s been drooling all over the floor and himself.”

You remain silent, and John would give anything to know what you look like right now or what you’re thinking.

“Do you like him?” asks Ghost.

“What?” you exclaim.

“We won’t tell. Unless you want us to,” continues Gaz. “We can tell him to back off if—”

“No. I—” There is a stretch of silence. “I like him.”

When neither Gaz nor Ghost say anything, you keep talking. “I like him. I’m interested.”

“How interested?” asks Ghost, slowly.

“I’d have his babies if he asked,” you blurt so suddenly that it even takes John by surprise.

His grin momentarily slips away, and then it comes back, raging larger than before. He is going to bottle up those words and savor them. John runs his fingers through his hair, tugging on the tips slightly as he comes to a decision.

Pushing off from the wall, he barrels around the corner, making enough noise to not startle anyone. You and Gaz both jump but Ghost remains utterly still, a passive brick of a man. But his dark eyes swivel from you to John, and he sees Ghost’s amusement behind the balaclava.

John approaches you, and it takes every ounce of willpower to keep his grin from seeming too eager. “Price is looking for you.”

“Oh,” is all you say, moving in the direction John just emerged from. He waits until you pass him to start following, but before he can, he catches Gaz’s grin and Ghost’s gentle shake of his head.

When the two of you disappear around the corner, John reaches out, grabbing your arm. He tugs you against him, then shoves open a nearby door, hauling you inside.

“Johnny,” you protest as he shuts the two of you inside.

Leaning against the door, John crosses his arms over his chest. “Heard what you said.”

“Did you?” you counter, placing your hands on your hips.

“Aye.”

“And what did I say?”

“That you wanted to have my babies.” Your face heats and John has to bite back a groan. He surges forward, trapping you against the wall. “Is that the truth? Do you want me?”

You soften in his arms, and he cannot help himself. His arms snake around your middle only to lift you onto a nearby table.

“I want you,” you whisper.

John dips his head and you greet him with your mouth. “Then let’s get to it, love.”

John Price (wc: 420)

Price reclines in his office chair.

His mind is a mess. All thoughts of work are utterly gone. Finished. The only thing in his head is you and what you said this morning. The thing is, you don’t know that Price heard every word, that he listened as you confessed your feelings for him to the rest of the team.

Price is your superior, which means anything between the two of you cannot happen. At least, not while you’re under his command. The rest of the team said as much, and you reluctantly agreed, knowing that nothing could be done unless you or he moved out of the unit.

And Price won’t leave. Not because he wouldn’t do it for you, but because Laswell would have his head if he tried.

But the two of you can still talk. The two of you can still figure something out.

Yet it wasn’t just your interest in him that has Price’s head in knots. It’s what you said, almost absently, like you were speaking to the air and not the rest of the team.

I’d have his babies.

Fuck, he was gone when he heard that. Price walked away immediately and went to his office. Which is where he’s been the entire fucking day. When his phone rings, he refuses to answer. Everyone who has come knocking leaves when Price ignores them. He just needs to get his head on straight but he can only do that once he talks to you first.

Sighing, Price leans forward in his chair, resting his forearms on the table. A knock comes, and everything in him tenses.

He swallows. Turns his nerves to steel. "Come in."

When you enter, Price loses all thought. It isn't until the silence becomes awkward that Price clears his throat and stands. "Shut the door."

You do and then take a few more steps inside. Price isn't one for stepping around a conversation. He just needs to get this shit off his chest.

"Heard what you said this morning."

"You did?"

"I did."

You take a shaky breath. "And?"

"Did you mean it?"

'Every word," you say automatically.

Fuck. He's done for.

Price slowly sinks into his chair. He leans back casually, legs spread. Resting both hands on his thighs, Price runs them up and then back down. He taps the inside of one thigh in open invitation.

Your legs obediently move, and Price's chest tightens. As you straddle him, Price's hands come to rest on your waist.

"Show me."

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick (wc: 309)

Kyle heard you wrong. He must have.

The words that just came out of your mouth simply aren’t true.

I want to have his babies.

He shakes his head, the middle of his brow furrowing slightly as he continues to listen. He hears Soap guffaw at your reply and then swear up a storm when you smack the back of his head.

“It’s not funny,” you snap.

“Oh, aye. But it is.”

“Cut her some slack, Johnny,” says Ghost teasingly. “Sergeant Garrick is a handsome man.”

You sigh in frustration. “You’re both terrible. I can’t tell you anything.”

“You just did.”

“Oh shove it, Soap,” you reply.

Kyle covers his mouth with his hand, smothering a laugh. You’ve always been feisty, and you don’t take shit from anyone, especially not from them. But this admission completely catches him off-guard.

He’d be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t interested. What first began as mutual respect grew into genuine friendship. Now it’s…this. Whatever this is.

But Kyle is a private person, and he’s not going to shove himself into this conversation. He’ll wait until you’re alone and the two of you can talk this out without an audience. From there, he will have the truth directly from your mouth.

And if he's being honest with himself, Kyle is fucking ace to the idea of you giving him a kid or two. Or three.

His mind swirls outward with images of what he’d do to put a baby inside you. Everything in him ramps up, burns hot until he’s aching.

“Sergeant.”

Kyle’s eyes snap open, and he momentarily sways as he rights himself.

“Captain,” he replies, clearing his throat.

Captain Price smirks and then squeezes his shoulder. “Must have been a hell of a daydream.” Price releases Kyle’s shoulder and continues on.

Privacy. Privacy with you.

That’s what Kyle needs.

Simon "Ghost" Riley (wc: 375)

Ghost is a patient man.

But right now, there is a fire beneath his skin.

It itches, radiating outward, even making his bones ache. This is not a wound. Not an injury. He didn’t take a hit. There is nothing physically wrong with him. Ghost is healthy. A solid brick wall of muscle and scars.

This impatient insistence comes from a carnal place. All the blood is rushing to a singular point, and Ghost is going fucking insane with how badly he needs to relieve it. The worst part about it is that you don’t even know. You have no idea what you’ve done, or what he heard.

I’d have his babies.

Ghost is entirely aware that the conversation you had with Soap and Gaz was private. He wasn’t meant to hear it. But he did. He did, and now he can’t stop thinking about all the things you said to them.

Which is why he’s lurking in the shadows, watching your every step, assessing when he should slide on up to you. Ghost needs you alone. He needs to talk but he also needs you in his lap.

So, when you turn the corner, Ghost slips into his namesake, grabbing you by the waist to haul you through the nearest door. Instinct kicks in, and you lash out, but Ghost is so much bigger than you, easily restraining all resistance.

"Stop moving."

"Simon."

His real name on your tongue is perfect. Pressing his face into your neck, he inhales, and you melt into him.

"What are you doing?" you ask softly.

"I heard the conversation you had with Johnny and Gaz today."

"Did you?"

"Is it true?"

Your face shifts slightly in his direction and Ghost draws back a bit. "Yes."

"Mean it?"

"Yes."

Slowly, Ghost removes his arms from around your waist. He gently guides you forward and then spins you around so that you're fully facing him. There is silence and then Ghost reaches for the front of his belt buckle. Your gaze immediately drops and then pops back up as undoes and then removes the belt with one hand.

"Willing to show me?" he asks.

Your lips part, and then you're touching him.

The fire beneath his skin becomes an inferno.

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