#thank you thank you thank you for telling me this!!!
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creacher-feetcher · 7 hours ago
Video
reblogging this again since op informed and this post didn't have the original source
anyways my original comment:
Sorry just wanted to say that there is a campaign that I've been helping with to make the MTA more afforadable!
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we've started with buses so far (but only temporary and the pilot program just ended in September 2024) but yeah there's a whole campaign
sadly it won't be free, but it would freeze the fare for trains and make the buses free
Highlights from the article
"The pilot firstly dramatically increased ridership. Across all five fare-free bus lines, the MTA reported a 30 percent increase in ridership on weekdays and 38 percent on weekends, with 23 percent of riders reporting that they made the trip because it was free. It also provided clear economic relief to low-income riders. The highest uptick in new riders was from individuals earning less than $28,000." ... "Across the five routes we made free, assaults on bus operators dropped by 38.9 percent. This strongly mirrors what happened in Kansas City: After introducing fare-free buses, security incidents dropped 39 percent from 2019 to 2020." 
[source]
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penny-anna · 3 days ago
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imagine you're a mechanic in the Transformers universe and you have a car come in with engine trouble so you open it up and the engine is just full of some kind of weird fast-spreading rust. never seen anything like it before
so you're like. hmmm. and you call the Autobots like 'hi I know this number is supposed to be for reporting possible Decepticon activity but I've got some kind of alien bullshit going on and I don't know who to ask'. they hand you over to Ratchet and Rachet is like 'hm I think I know what that is but let me come run some tests'
SO Ratchet comes over and has a look at the engine and is like yeah as I thought. its crotch rust. and you're like 'crotch rust??' and he's like yeah its crotch rust. its a. well I think humans call them STIs? its like that.
so you're like '..........are you telling me a Transformer fucked this car' and he's like yeah. looks that way. and you're like 'what in the world' and he's like I don't know. people are freaks. anyway we don't want this stuff spreading so I'll be back tomorrow with the right nanites. keep it away from the other cars.
he comes back the next day like okay so I have good news and I have bad news. you're like 'well what's the good news' and he's like WELL I spent last night testing all the autobots for crotch rust and they're all clean. so you're like 'does that mean the car wasn't fucked' and he's like oh no the car was definitely fucked there's no other way this could have happened.
so you're like 'wait. are you saying a Decepticon fucked this car?' and he's like yes. we have a Decepticon fucking cars. and they are giving the cars STIs. thank you for bringing this to our attention here are the nanites goodbye.
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falesten-iw · 2 days ago
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When I first joined Tumblr, I had no idea what I was walking into. There’s no manual for navigating this wild, untamed corner of the internet. My first moment here? I was greeted by an image completely naked, no warning, no explanation. It was just there, bold and unapologetic. That’s when I realized: Tumblr is a place where anything can happen.
But for all its chaos, Tumblr has become something far greater than I ever expected. For us Palestinians, this platform isn’t just a space to scroll through memes or vent about life. It’s a lifeline, a place where we’ve taken the raw, messy energy of this site and turned it into a battleground for survival. Here, we tell our stories, raise funds, and fight for our lives.
I’ve seen campaigns soar past their goals, bringing hope to families barely holding on. But I’ve also seen campaigns like mine, ones that fight tooth and nail for every single dollar, every reblog, every addition, and every ounce of hope. My family’s lives depend on this.
It hasn’t been easy. Zionists flood all Palestinian words with hate, twisting truths and spreading lies. They aim to discredit us, to make people doubt us. It’s exhausting. Some nights, I sit with my phone in my hands, wondering if this fight is too big for me. But then something beautiful happens: a donation comes through, a kind message appears, or someone I’ve never met reblogs my story with words that feel like a warm embrace.
And through it all, people are starting to see the truth. The hate doesn’t drown us; it sharpens our voices. Every day, more people step forward to stand with us, to say, “I see you, I hear you, and I’m with you.” It’s those moments that keep me going.
To everyone who has already helped, whether through verification, donating, wrting post , reblogging, or simply sharing a kind word: thank you. You’ve done more for my family than I could ever put into words. But the reality is, we’re not there yet. My family is still waiting for a chance to breathe, to live without fear, to fill their empty stomachs with warm food, and to wrap themselves in clothes thick enough to keep out the bitter cold. They’re hungry, they’re freezing, and I can’t do this alone.
This fight is hard, but it’s not hopeless. Strangers have become friends, and friends have become family. Some of you have shown up in ways I never imagined, treating my family’s survival as if it were your own. That kind of solidarity? It’s powerful.
Tumblr might be chaotic, unpredictable, and sometimes downright bizarre, but it’s also the place where we’ve built something extraordinary: a community that refuses to look away from injustice. With your help, we can take this fight all the way. My family’s lives are within reach, and together, I know we’ll get there.
This campaign isn’t just about me. It supports 26 people, including two orphaned children and an injured family member suffering from hemiplegia after being hit by shrapnel during a bombing. Surgery is desperately needed to replace the infected and failing plates. The needs are urgent, and the future of 26 lives depends on your support.
The video showing the injured family member is shared before in this post: Link.
Please help us ! Donate and reblog this post to spread our story.
Vetted and shared by @90-ghost: Link.
Verified and shared by @el-shab-hussein: Link
Listed as number 282 in "The Vetted Gaza Evacuation Fundraiser Spreadsheet" compiled by @el-shab-hussein and @nabulsi : Link
Listed on the Butterfly Effect Project, number 957: Link
Additionally, Al Jazeera News has documented apart of my family's case: Link
If, for some reason, you couldn't donate via GoFundMe, you can donate via PayPal instead. Please keep the conversion rates in mind when donating through GoFundMe. Every 100 SEK is equivalent to 10 dollars, and 200 SEK equals 20 dollars and so on.
Note: There’s even a raffle for a handmade Palestinian thob if you want to participate : Link
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astonmartinii · 1 day ago
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put it all on red (bull) | max verstappen social media au
pairing: max verstappen x fem russell reader
her brother won the race? does she know? does she care?
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
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yourusername
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liked by alexalbon, georgerussell63 and 204,300 others
tagged: maxverstappen1
yourusername: VIVA LAS VEGAS
view all comments
user3: this is fucking hilarious
user4: her whole ass brother won the actual race and there's not a peep of him on the post
user5: i mean her boyfriend did win the championship...
yourusername: exactlyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy i mean my instagram is for pretty girls only
user6: do not erase george's beauty
yourusername: nothing to erase girlypop - FUGLY!
user7: the way the guys are in the media pen and can't see that y/n is coming for their necks in instagram comments
user8: i fear she's already started drinking...
user9: in the back of the sky broadcast she hands max a drink and i'm starting to suspect that it was not water or red bull
user10: LMAO HELMUT TOOK A SIP AND LIKE NEARLY FELL OVER
yourusername: i've never claimed to be good at mixing drinks
maxverstappen1: WHERE WAS THE TONIC ???
yourusername: i don't believe in tonic 💔
maxverstappen1: YOU GAVE ME STRAIGHT GIN?
yourusername: straight 🤣
maxverstappen1: Y/N THAT'S ATTEMPTED MURDER ON HELMUT ???
yourusername: free me i did nothing wrong !!!
user11: these people kill me
user12: sign of a healthy relationship is making gay allegations about each other
yourusername: ALLEGATIONS ???
yourusername: george is lucky that he was the first russell carmen met ...
georgerussell63: RIGHT, I HAVE HAD ENOUGH
georgerussell63: thank you for the congratulations but STOP flirting with MY girlfriend
yourusername: congratulations??? for what?
georgerussell63: WINNING THE RACE?
yourusername: boring!
georgerussell63: you are so lucky we're family because you are a few cards short of a deck
yourusername: CARDS? that reminds me ... time to gamble!
maxverstappen1
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liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc and 1,342,988 others
tagged: yourusername
maxverstappen1: winning without the fastest car isn't for everyone
view all comments
user13: this caption has y/n russell written all over it
yukitsunoda0511: i sat here and watched them giggle to themselves for a good five minutes while posting this
user14: tell max to post more pictures like the second one
yukitsunoda0511: they are not safe for innocent eyes and they are not taken with a locked door :/
user15: why are you there ???
yukitsunoda0511: they're very generous when they're drunk !
user16: so real
yukitsunoda0511: it's also not just me :(
user17: just how many people are using the bar tab?
liamlawson30: me!
oscarpiastri: me!
charles_leclerc: me!
landonorris: me!
pierregasly: me!
alexalbon: me!
yourusername: broke bitches
carlossainz55: you do not have a job?
yourusername: gambling and being pretty is more of a job that what you will have next season 🤨
carlossainz55: has anyone ever told you you're a really mean drunk
yourusername: just george about a billion times, you get used to it (we just don't invite you out)
user18: she is just dragging anyone now
user19: hold on that is her boyfriend's work boyfriend's enemy
user20: girl is 90% of lestappen twitter's source and you think she's not gonna have a problem with sainz???
yourusername: you're so sexy i actually can't even function
maxverstappen1: gotta put the trophy in trophy husband somehow
yourusername: jokes aside i am super duper proud of you, this year has been insane and you've proven that you are the bestest eva
maxverstappen1: couldn't have done it without my fave cheerleader
yourusername: i'll wear the uniform and everything ....
schecoperez: STOP
georgerussell63: still no congratulations? i know you won the title or whatever but we're going to be brothers soon SHOW SOME RESPECT
yourusername: literally suck his dick
yourusername: wait no
yourusername: suck my dick
yourusername: WAIT NO
yourusername: choke ❤️
georgerussell63: i have no words at this point
maxverstappen1: so romantic hehehehe
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yourusername
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liked by alexalbon, kimiantonelli and 410,300 others
tagged: maxverstappen1
yourusername: put it all on on red (bull)
view all comments
user22: ma'am why is there a cat?
user23: i think we already know the answer
user24: oh i know the answer i just wanna know the batshit explanation
georgerussell63: exsqueeze me ???
yourusername: don't speak like that about your nephew ??
georgerussell63: tell me you're not keeping it??
maxverstappen1: IT? HE JUST LEAPFROGGED YOU IN OUR WILL
georgerussell63: 1. you have a joint will ??? 2. why am i on it ??? 3. what is a cat doing with a monaco penthouse ???
maxverstappen1: i thought you could use the money ? i know toto ain't paying you what he promised me
yourusername: george your weird sugar daddy is more broke than you think sorry xx
georgerussell63: once again, what is stopping me taking the monaco house from a literal cat ?
yourusername: caesar will be very aware of his rights string bean - just because you talk in an uppity accent doesn't mean you actually know anything
georgerussell63: i cannot tell who corrupted who but i am sick of being your victim :(
user25: yes as fun as watching them dog george is i do want to know caesar's origin story
user26: i have a very bad feeling i know where he got his name
alexalbon: HE'S NOT NAMED AFTER THE CASINO IS HE?
yourusername: ding ding ding we have a winner, always knew you were the smarter half of galex
maxverstappen1: your gambling is getting out of hand
yourusername: did i or did i not win us a cat ?
maxverstappen1: AND £250,000 ???
yourusername: didn't want to promote gambling too much
yourusername: KIDS DO NOT GAMBLE IT IS DUMB
yourusername: look at me i literally have a child now ???
user27: we have lost the original plot of the movie
user28: you must be new, we stopped trying to make sense of these two years ago
lewishamilton: i can assure you it does not get any easier when you know them personally
yourusername: we aim to be sexy and mysterious
lewishamilton: that's strange because you guys dance like little boys and overshare at any given opportunity
maxverstappen1: guilty !
georgerussell63
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liked by alexalbon, landonorris and 873,409 others
tagged: lewishamilton, yourusername & maxverstappen1
georgerussell63: i won the las vegas grand prix and all i got was this lousy cat
view all comments
user29: i am sensing a y/n and max meltdown incoming
user30: maybe they're too hungover to argue?
yourusername: NEVER
maxverstappen1: LOUSY CAT? FIRST OF ALL HE'S NOT YOURS SO KEEP HIS NAME OUT OF YOUR MOUTH AND ALSO I WILL KILL YOU WITH A GUN
georgerussell63: excuse me?
yourusername: do NOT threaten my boyfriend !!!!!!!!
georgerussell63: do you have selective sight or something?
yourusername: no i just like him more than i like you
georgerussell63: you only met him because of me?
maxverstappen1: i have faith we would've found each other regardless we have a SOUL TIE
yourusername: EXACTLY
georgerussell63: i give up.
yourusername: this is exactly why you don't have a championship ... no drive (pun intended)
georgerussell63: NOW THAT'S IT
maxverstappen1: are you threatening my girlfriend?
georgerussell63: OMG LEAVE ME ALONE
user31: their commitment to never letting george have a day of peace is really quite charming
user32: they're going to give him grey hairs before he even turns 27
alexalbon: i gotta say georgie, i'm not with you on this one - caesar is THE dude
georgerussell63: are all my eggs falling out of the basket at once?
maxverstappen1: that's called karma for calling caesar 'it' and a lousy cat
georgerussell63: i can't lie i am missing your honeymoon phase you guys were a lot nicer
yourusername: we never left the honeymoon phase we just like annoying all of you
maxverstappen1: makes you people leave us alone :3
landonorris: you don't have to be mean to do that
yourusername: YOU JUST GOT OFF OF THIN ICE NORRIS WATCH YOUR STEP
user33: they can make excuses all these want but they just like annoying everyone else
user34: i mean based on their vegas shenanigans i think they would be super fun to be around
yourusername: oscar literally came to stay while he 'looked for a flat' in monaco and hasn't left... it's been three months. face it we're a HOOT
oscarpiastri: they are fun! the secret is to not be annoying sorry george!
maxverstappen1: they grow up so fast :')
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maxverstappen1
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liked by charles_leclerc, danielricciardo and 984,036 others
tagged: yourusername
maxverstappen1: took a gamble when i went for the lanky posh dude's sister and i can now say it was definitely worth it
view all comments
user37: bro says snug as a bug in a rug once and now he's labelled as posh HE'S FROM NORFOLK
user38: it's also the way that y/n never gets the posh allegations
georgerussell63: it's because she's scruffy as fuck x
maxverstappen1: literally outside your house with a knife, keep talking
georgerussell63: i'm a grown man, max, you don't scare me
maxverstappen1: so i'm free to do a little gardening while you hide inside?
georgerussell63: you wouldn't...
yourusername: GO FOR THE PEONIES MAX
georgerussell63: NOT THE PEONIES I BEG HAVE MERCY
user39: so i'm supposed to read all of this shit and take them seriously when they get in the car
user40: it's part of the charm i think
user41: it's all fun and games until you remember they are full grown adults who can vote who are arguing over flowers
yourusername: i'd go through the strenuous task of growing up with george thousands more times just to be with you
maxverstappen1: i've been in love with you since i was 14, there has never been anyone else for me and there will never be anyone else for me
yourusername: ugh why didn't we just get married in vegas ?
maxverstappen1: because even though i did just harm his flowers, i do want to marry you in front of our families
yourusername: i guess you're right
georgerussell63: you know what? based on how you usually talk to me... i'm touched
yourusername: if i'm feeling generous i'll even let you do the seating chart
georgerussell63: I LOVE YOU BEST SISTER EVER
user42: only a declaration of love between max and y/n could end with george proclaiming his love for charts
user43: how does one procure an invite to this wedding ...
yourusername: be cunty
yourusername: @zakbrownceo YOU'RE BARRED
yourusername
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liked by landonorris, alexalbon and 409,300 others
tagged: maxverstappen1
yourusername: i'm the sibling who can't drive and yet i'm the one with four championship trophies in their house... george, step your pussy up x
view all comments
user44: omg queen who can't drive, she's such representation
yourusername: george says i'm so mean all the time but really i'm generous, i clearly gave him all the driving genes
user45: have you even tried driving?
yourusername: i went on max's sim once and got motion sickness and i'm also with the best driver in the world and siblings with an okay one - i'm surviving
alexalbon: he's already texted me about your language on this post
yourusername: just because he's a boomer in a string bean's body does not mean i must censor myself - he should know what stepping his pussy up means by now
georgerussell63: i will not be stepping on any pussy, i respect both felines and women
maxverstappen1: you called caesar 'it' so PLEASE
georgerussell63: i respect women?
maxverstappen1: you called y/n scruffy?
georgerussell63: that's y/n it doesn't count
maxverstappen1: that's not very feminist of you george. i am disappointed
yourusername: i agree, i really think the GDPA should reconsider the type of person they're letting run it
georgerussell63: huh?
yourusername: not once have i been invited to a grid meal ....
georgerussell63: well you're not on the grid that's why
yourusername: FEMALE EXCLUSION
maxverstappen1: you know we have attachment issues, you're so heartless george
georgerussell63: what is going on ???
yourusername: you CLEARLY don't care about me
maxverstappen1: and you CLEARLY don't care about the wellbeing of the grid
georgerussell63: I'M SORRY???
user46: george is unbelievably easy to rattle
user47: it must be so fun
yourusername: oh believe me, we have way too much fun
maxverstappen1: we once convinced him that it was a social faux pas to shake hands in japan lol
georgerussell63: IS THAT WHY MERCEDES WERE TOLD THAT EVERYONE THOUGHT I WAS REALLY RUDE ???
yourusername: LMAOOOOOOOO
maxverstappen1: so so so easy bro
user48: i guess a couple that plays mind tricks together, stay together?
yourusername: 4eva
maxverstappen1: til death do us part
yourusername: quite literally you're not leaving me alone with GEORGE
georgerussell63: you know what: DIE
yourusername: GASP
maxverstappen1: @fia get his ass
fin.
note: HAPPY MAX VERSTAPPEN CHAMPIONSHIP DAY TO ALL WHO CELEBRATE. IE. ME LOL
1K notes · View notes
pucksandpower · 2 days ago
Text
Fourth Time’s the Charm
Max Verstappen x Norris!Reader
Summary: it starts, as all the best things do, with a bet (“If I win the race tomorrow and take the championship, you owe me a favor. Anything I want.”)
Note: thank you so much to @altxanna for the fantastic idea
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The lights of the Las Vegas strip pulse outside the massive floor-to-ceiling windows of Max’s penthouse, but neither of you cares. You’re both tangled up in each other under the covers, limbs lazily draped and intertwined. The TV is playing some action movie you both stopped paying attention to an hour ago, the volume low, serving as nothing more than background noise.
“You’re awfully quiet tonight,” you say, your voice soft as you trace a finger along Max’s arm, admiring the way his muscles shift beneath his skin.
“Just thinking,” he murmurs, resting his head against the pillow. His accent wraps around the words in a way that feels so familiar it’s comforting.
“About the race?” You ask, already knowing the answer.
Max turns his head to look at you, his blue eyes catching the dim light from the window. “What else would I be thinking about?”
You hum, tilting your head in mock thought. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe about how your girlfriend is ridiculously good-looking? Or how lucky you are to have me?”
His lips quirk into a smile, the kind that’s as much in his eyes as it is on his face. “You’re right. I should focus on what really matters.” He shifts slightly, leaning closer to you. “You’re ridiculously good-looking, and I’m very lucky.”
You laugh and shove his shoulder lightly. “That’s better.”
He catches your hand before you can pull it away, his fingers lacing with yours. His expression grows more serious as he says, “But yes, I’m thinking about the race. I’m thinking about winning.”
You roll your eyes at the sheer confidence in his tone. “You think you’re going to win.”
Max raises an eyebrow. “Think? I know I’m going to win. You don’t believe in me?”
“Oh, I believe in you,” you say, smirking. “I just also believe in my brother. And if Lando finishes ahead of you, the title fight goes to Qatar.”
He groans dramatically, letting his head fall back against the pillow. “Don’t remind me. The idea of dragging this out another week …”
“What, scared Lando might pull it off?”
He narrows his eyes at you, feigning offense. “Scared? Me? No. I’m just saying it would be … inconvenient.”
“Uh-huh.” You grin, shifting onto your side to face him fully. “I don’t know, Max. Lando’s been looking pretty good lately. He might surprise you tomorrow.”
Max’s hand slides to your waist, pulling you closer. “You’re really going to sit here, in my bed, and tell me your brother is going to beat me?”
“I’m just saying it’s possible,” you tease.
He shakes his head, but there’s a spark of amusement in his eyes. “Alright, then. If you’re so confident, let’s make it interesting.”
Your eyebrows lift. “Oh? What do you have in mind?”
“A bet,” he says simply.
You prop yourself up on your elbow, intrigued. “A bet?”
Max nods, his smirk growing. “If I win the race tomorrow and take the championship, you owe me a favor. Anything I want.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Anything?”
“Anything.”
You consider it for a moment, then ask, “And if Lando finishes ahead of you?”
“Then you get a favor. Anything you want.”
You bite your lip to keep from smiling too broadly. “You really think you’re that unbeatable, huh?”
“I know I am,” he says, his confidence practically radiating off him.
“Alright, Verstappen,” you say, holding out your hand. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”
He clasps your hand in his, his grip firm but warm. “Deal.”
You let your hand linger in his for a moment before pulling it away. “So, what’s this big favor you’re going to ask for if you win?”
He leans back against the pillows, his smirk turning devilish. “You’ll find out when I win.”
“If you win,” you correct, lying back down beside him.
“I’ll win,” he says confidently, his voice low as his hand trails down your back.
You roll your eyes but can’t help the smile that creeps onto your face. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”
“And yet, here you are,” he says, pulling you closer until your head rests against his chest.
You can hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, and for a moment, the room falls quiet. It’s peaceful in a way you don’t get to experience often, and you savor it.
“You know,” you say after a while, your voice quiet, “if Lando does win tomorrow, it’s not because you’re not good enough. He’s just …”
“Your brother?” Max finishes, his tone teasing.
You laugh softly. “Yeah, that too. But he’s been working so hard for this, Max. You both have. It’s … complicated.”
He runs a hand through your hair, his touch gentle. “I know. But on the track, it’s not complicated. It’s just me, the car, and the finish line. No brothers, no girlfriends. Just racing.”
You tilt your head to look up at him. “And what about after the race?”
“After the race …” He pauses, his fingers brushing against your cheek. “After the race, I’m just me. And you’re just you. That doesn’t change, no matter what.”
You don’t respond right away, letting his words sink in. Then, with a small smile, you say, “You’re really not scared at all, are you?”
“Of Lando? No,” he says, his voice light. “Of you? A little.”
You laugh, shoving him lightly. “Good. You should be.”
He catches your hand again, this time pressing a kiss to your palm. “I’ll remember that.”
You let out a soft sigh, your body relaxing against his. “You’d better get some sleep, Verstappen. You’ve got a big day tomorrow.”
He hums in agreement, but instead of pulling away, he leans in, pressing his lips to your neck. “One more kiss,” he murmurs against your skin.
You close your eyes, your breath hitching slightly. “Just one?”
He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, his smirk returning. “Maybe two.”
You shake your head, laughing softly as he pulls you back under the covers.
And for now, the world outside doesn’t matter.
***
The final lap of the Las Vegas Grand Prix feels endless. The crowd’s roar grows louder with every corner, drowning out even the hum of the engines. Your hands are clammy as you grip the edge of your seat in the Red Bull garage, your eyes glued to the screen. Max’s car slices through the neon-lit streets of Vegas, and Lando is right behind him.
It’s close. Too close.
“Come on, Lando,” you mutter under your breath, though your heart isn’t entirely in it.
Max is P5. Lando is P6. A single position apart. If it stays this way, the championship is Max’s.
You’re not sure who you’re rooting for anymore.
The chequered flag waves as Max crosses the line, and your both heart drops and soars. P5. It’s done.
“MAX VERSTAPPEN, YOU ARE THE 2024 WORLD CHAMPION!” GP’s voice explodes over the team radio, his excitement nearly incomprehensible.
Max’s laughter comes through the speakers, unrestrained and wild. It’s a sound you know all too well — relief, joy, triumph all rolled into one.
“Yessss!” Max shouts. “That was incredible! Thank you so much for this season!”
You can’t help the smile tugging at your lips, even as the realization sinks in. He won. He really won.
The camera cuts to the Red Bull garage, where the team is in chaos — cheers, hugs, champagne spraying already. Christian adjusts his headset, leaning in to speak.
“Max, congratulations, mate. What an unbelievable season. You’ve done it again.”
“Thanks, Christian. Four in a row — unreal.”
You watch the screen as Max’s car slows on the cooldown lap, weaving slightly in celebration. You know him well enough to see it, even through the helmet — the ease in his shoulders, the grin he must be wearing.
Then his voice cuts through the radio again, this time steadier, more purposeful.
“And just so you know, I’m calling in my favor now.”
Christian’s confused laugh is audible even through the crackling radio. “Your favor? What are you talking about?”
You freeze, the air catching in your lungs.
Max chuckles, low and mischievous. “I had a bet with my girlfriend. I told her I’d win tonight. She owes me a favor, and I know exactly what I want.”
Your stomach flips, a mixture of dread and anticipation.
GP’s voice comes through, confused but amused. “Are we supposed to know what this favor is?”
“No, no,” Max says, his tone casual but firm. “But you’ll find out soon enough.”
Christian presses again, trying to pry it out of him. “Come on, Max. What’s the favor?”
There’s a pause, the kind that feels deliberate, like Max is savoring the moment.
“I want to marry her. Tonight. Right here in Vegas.”
The words hit you like a bolt of lightning, your pulse racing.
GP bursts out laughing. “Wait, what? Are you serious?”
“Dead serious,” Max replies, his voice steady, no hint of hesitation.
You sit frozen, your heart thundering in your chest. Did he just-
“Max,” Christian says, a mixture of disbelief and laughter in his tone, “does she even know about this?”
“She does now,” Max says, and you can hear the grin in his voice.
The team radio falls silent for a moment, and the TV commentary fills the void as the podium finishers begin to line up. But you barely register any of it.
Max is proposing. No — not proposing. Declaring.
The camera pans to his car as he pulls into parc fermé, the four-time World Champion. The team swarms him, pulling him from the car, hoisting him into the air. The crowd’s cheers are deafening, but all you can think about is his voice in your head.
“I want to marry her. Tonight.”
You barely notice when someone taps your shoulder, Max’s PR officer. “You should get down to the celebrations,” she says, her voice brimming with excitement. “He’ll want you there.”
Your legs feel like jelly as you stand, weaving through the sea of Red Bull personnel to get to the barriers.
***
When you finally see him, his helmet is off, his face flushed from the race and grinning so wide it’s like he’s glowing. He spots you instantly, cutting through the crowd like no one else exists.
“Max,” you start, but he doesn’t let you finish.
“You heard me,” he says, his voice low but firm, his eyes locked on yours. “I want to marry you tonight.”
You stare at him, still trying to catch up. “You’re insane.”
He steps closer, his hand finding yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Probably. But I’m serious.”
“Max, you just won a world championship,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “You’re supposed to be celebrating, not-”
“I am celebrating,” he interrupts, his voice softening. “With you. And I don’t want to wait anymore. I’ve known for years that I want you. Why wait?”
Your heart feels like it might burst out of your chest. “This is insane. People don’t just get married in Vegas on a whim.”
He tilts his head, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “People do it all the time, actually.”
“Max-”
“I love you,” he says, his voice dropping lower. “I love you, and I want to start the rest of my life with you. Tonight. Right now.”
You can feel the weight of everyone’s eyes on you — the team, the media, everyone waiting for your reaction. But in this moment, it’s just the two of you.
“Say yes,” he whispers, his forehead resting against yours. “Say yes, and let me win you, too.”
You laugh, a shaky, breathless sound that comes out more like a sob. “You’re impossible.”
“And you love me for it.”
You take a deep breath, your hand tightening around his. “Fine,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “Yes.”
The smile that breaks across his face is pure joy, unfiltered and blinding. He pulls you into his arms, lifting you off the ground as the team around you erupts into cheers.
“Alright, Verstappen,” you say, laughing as he spins you. “You’ve got your favor. Let’s get married.”
***
The wedding chapel is everything you expected it to be: over-the-top, tacky in the most endearing way, and bathed in flickering neon lights. A bright red Cadillac is parked out front, its headlights beaming into the frigid Vegas night. Inside, the carpet is a deep, gaudy red, and plastic flowers line the aisle. The faint smell of cigarettes lingers in the air, clinging to the cheap velvet curtains.
It’s surreal, to say the least.
“This is insane,” you mumble, standing in a side room with Lando, who’s staring at you like he’s still trying to process what’s happening.
“You think this is insane?” He replies, pointing vaguely toward the chapel. “What about the fact that you’re marrying Max Verstappen in a Vegas chapel at 3 a.m. with a guy dressed as Elvis officiating?”
You groan, adjusting the makeshift bouquet of roses someone from the Red Bull team had pulled together. “Don’t remind me.”
Lando smirks, leaning against the doorframe. “I don’t think I have to. This is going to live in my head rent-free for the rest of my life.”
You shoot him a look. “You don’t have to be here, you know.”
“Are you kidding?” He folds his arms, the grin never leaving his face. “I wouldn’t miss this for anything. Besides, who else is going to walk you down the aisle?”
Your stomach flips at the thought. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
Lando softens a little, stepping closer. “Hey,” he says, his voice quieter now, “you sure about this? I mean, it’s Max. And Vegas. And Elvis.”
You bite your lip, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your dress. “I’m sure.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you say, meeting his eyes. “I love him, Lando. He’s ridiculous, and he drives me insane, but I love him.”
Lando watches you for a moment, then sighs dramatically. “Well, I guess if anyone’s crazy enough to keep up with Max, it’s you.”
“Gee, thanks,” you say dryly, but your smile betrays you.
There’s a knock on the door, and one of the chapel staff pokes their head in. “We’re ready for you.”
Your heart leaps into your throat.
Lando claps his hands together, his grin back in full force. “Alright, let’s do this.”
***
The chapel is even more ridiculous than you’d imagined. A man dressed as Elvis stands at the altar, adjusting his oversized sunglasses and strumming a guitar idly as he waits. Max is already there, looking completely at ease, as if this is just another podium ceremony.
When he sees you, his face lights up, and any lingering nerves you had melt away.
“You ready?” Lando whispers, offering his arm.
“As I’ll ever be,” you whisper back, looping your arm through his.
The music starts — a surprisingly heartfelt rendition of “Can’t Help Falling in Love” sung by Elvis — and you can’t help but laugh under your breath.
“You’re walking down the aisle to Elvis,” Lando says, shaking his head. “Unreal.”
“Shut up,” you mutter, though you’re smiling.
The walk feels like it takes forever and no time at all. Max’s gaze is fixed on you the entire time, his expression soft and unguarded in a way you don’t see often. By the time you reach him, your cheeks hurt from smiling so much.
Lando hands you off with an exaggerated sigh. “Take care of her. She’s the only one who can put up with you.”
“Don’t worry,” Max says, smirking as he shakes Lando’s hand. “I plan to.”
Lando steps back, but not before whispering, “If you hurt her, I’ll crash you out next season.”
Max laughs, then turns back to you, his hands finding yours.
“You look amazing,” he says, his voice low enough that only you can hear.
“I look ridiculous,” you whisper back.
His grin widens. “Even better.”
Elvis clears his throat, drawing your attention. “Alright, folks, let’s get this show on the road!”
The ceremony is exactly as absurd as you’d expected, and yet somehow, it feels perfect.
“Dearly beloved,” Elvis begins, his voice smooth and practiced, “we are gathered here tonight to witness the union of Max and …” He pauses, looking at you with a raised eyebrow.
You realize no one ever told him your name.
“Uh,” you startle back to reality for a moment, “Y/N.”
“Max and Y/N,” Elvis continues smoothly, as if this sort of thing happens all the time.
He launches into the ceremony, peppering in car-themed metaphors and Elvis song references.
“Marriage,” he says at one point, “is a lot like a road trip. Sometimes it’s smooth sailing, sometimes you hit a few potholes, but as long as you’ve got each other, you’ll always find your way back to Graceland.”
You glance at Max, who’s barely holding back a laugh.
“Are you laughing at our wedding vows?” You whisper.
“I’m laughing at the potholes,” he whispers back.
Elvis continues, undeterred.
When it’s time for the personal vows, Max surprises you.
“I know this is all … unconventional,” he says, his hands still holding yours. “But that’s us, isn’t it? Unconventional. From the first time we met, I knew you were different. You don’t just keep up with me; you challenge me. You push me to be better, on and off the track. And you put up with all my nonsense, which is honestly impressive.”
You laugh, tears stinging your eyes.
“I promise to always be your biggest fan, even when you’re cheering for your brother,” Max continues, his voice softer now. “I promise to always fight for you, always support you, and always love you, no matter how crazy life gets.”
You’re not sure when the tears started falling, but they’re there, hot and fast.
“Your turn,” Elvis says, nodding at you.
You take a shaky breath, your voice trembling. “Max, you drive me crazy. You’re stubborn, competitive, and impossible to argue with. But you’re also kind, loyal, and the most passionate person I’ve ever met. You make me laugh when I don’t want to, and you make me believe in things I never thought I could.”
His eyes soften, and you squeeze his hands tighter.
“I promise to always stand by your side, even when you’re impossible. I promise to love you, challenge you, and never let you win a bet without a fight.”
Max grins, and the rest of the room seems to fade away.
When Elvis finally declares you husband and wife, it feels like the world stops.
“You may now kiss your bride,” he says with a flourish.
Max doesn’t hesitate, pulling you close and kissing you like the world outside doesn’t exist. The room erupts into cheers, Lando’s voice loudest among them.
When you finally pull away, Max leans his forehead against yours, his voice barely a whisper.
“We did it.”
You smile, your hands resting on his chest. “Yeah. We did.”
And just like that, Max Verstappen is your husband.
***
The rest of the night passes in a blur of laughter, chaos, and an overwhelming sense of unreality. The “reception” is cobbled together on the fly, with Red Bull team members and an assortment of drivers spilling out of limos and taxis into a nearby lounge they commandeer for the celebration.
Max stays close to you the entire time, his hand resting on your lower back or entwined with yours. Every time you glance at him, he’s already looking at you, his expression so full of love it makes your chest ache.
Eventually, you both slip away from the commotion, winding your way back to Max’s penthouse. The city hums below, the neon lights still pulsing with energy, but inside, everything feels quiet. Peaceful.
You’re curled up together in bed, the chaos of the night left behind, when Max finally speaks. “So,” he says, breaking the comfortable silence, “are you going to tell me what your favor would’ve been if you had won the bet?”
You laugh softly, shaking your head. “I don’t think you’re ready for that, Verstappen.”
His brows lift, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “Oh, now you have to tell me.”
You tilt your head, feigning deep thought. “Well, it would’ve been something big. Something life-changing.”
His grin widens, and he leans in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Life-changing, huh? What, were you going to make me switch teams? Retire early?”
You smirk, letting the pause hang in the air just long enough for him to grow impatient. “A ring.”
Max blinks, caught off guard for a split second. “A ring?”
“Mm-hmm.” You trace lazy circles on his chest, pretending not to notice his stunned expression. “I was going to ask for a ring. But you, being Max Verstappen, had to be a few laps ahead and beat me to it. Like usual.”
His laughter bursts out, warm and unrestrained. “You’re telling me you were going to propose to me?”
You shrug, unable to keep the playful smile off your face. “What can I say? I wanted to beat you at your own game.”
Max shifts onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow to look at you fully. His grin is impossibly wide, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement and something deeper. “You’re unbelievable.”
“You married me,” you point out, grinning back.
“I did,” he agrees, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “And I’d do it again. But I have to say, I think I prefer this version. Me proposing. You saying yes. Vegas. Elvis.”
You laugh, swatting his chest lightly. “You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?”
“Not a chance.” He’s still smiling, but his voice softens, turning serious. “I love you, you know. And I don’t care if it’s Vegas or a ten-minute ceremony or some ridiculous bet. This — us — feels right. It always has.”
Your teasing expression falters, replaced by something softer. “I love you, too. Even if you are insufferable.”
He chuckles, pulling you closer. “Insufferable and married. To you. Forever.”
You roll your eyes but can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. “Forever, huh?”
“Forever,” he repeats firmly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “And just for the record, I would’ve said yes if you’d proposed first.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” His lips brush against yours, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I’m glad I won this time.”
You laugh against his mouth, your arms winding around his neck as you pull him closer. “Don’t get used to it, Verstappen.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, Mrs. Verstappen.”
The name catches you off guard, and your heart stutters in your chest. Mrs. Verstappen. It’s ridiculous and perfect and makes you want to laugh and cry at the same time.
“You like that?” He asks, clearly noticing your reaction.
You bite your lip, nodding. “I think I could get used to it.”
His grin returns, smug and full of mischief. “Good. Because you don’t have a choice now.”
You shake your head, laughing as you lean into him, letting the weight of the night settle around you. The city lights outside keep shining, the noise of Las Vegas carrying on far below, but in this moment, it’s just the two of you.
And that’s all that matters.
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nochepsicodelica · 2 days ago
Text
You and Toji are sitting at a table at a bar, talking about different things that went on throughout your days over some drinks. Toji tells you about how Shiu's been a real asshole lately, because his marriage is hanging on by a thread and he hasn't gotten laid in almost a month. He gives you a look that you interpret as him saying 'thank fuck that's not us' to which you respond with a little smirk.
When it's your turn, you tell him about how the new hire broke the copy machine, knocked over and broke the water gallon for the water dispenser, and crashed into someone, spilling hot coffee all over their shirt, all in the course of one day.
"That poor fucker's cursed," Toji says, amusement riddling his expression as he brings his glass of whiskey to his lips.
"He looked like he really needed a hug by the end of the day," you add, biting back a smile, before you take a sip of your own drink.
"Tell me you didn't," Toji says, taking in the seemingly telling look on your face. "Ma."
"I'm kidding. It's jokes, baby. I have no interest in hugging someone I haven't spoken a single word to."
Toji flicks your forehead, watching with a grin as you bring a hand up to rub the sting away. "Gotta piss, be right back, doll. Want another drink before I come back?"
"I'll wait for you to finish yours," you say, to which he nods before standing up from his seat.
"Be right back," Toji repeats, affectionately setting a heavy hand on your head, before he heads off in the direction of the restrooms.
You pull your phone out of your pocket and scroll through your socials while you wait. Altogether, Toji was gone for no longer than four minutes, and yet somehow, that was enough time for a rando to pull a chair up to your little table and start a conversation with you.
"Hey," he starts. "Why are you sitting here looking all lonely?"
You turn your head to face the person with the unfamiliar voice, slightly widening your eyes as if to question if he's talking to you. He looks at you with raised eyebrows, awaiting your response. "Oh, i'm not here alone. My boyfriend is in the bathroom," you respond, with a polite smile, before returning your attention to your phone.
"Ah. What kind of man leaves a pretty thing like you by herself in a place like this?" The stranger says, in a tone that almost seems pitiful towards you.
You look at him again and attempt to keep your expression neutral. "He'll be back any second now. He's just taking a piss, i'll be fine. Unless you're here to make things troubling for me."
The man chuckles, entertained by your quick shift in tone. "With a feisty attitude like that and a pretty mouth to keep up, it seems like you want me to get you in trouble."
You furrow your eyebrows, blatantly offended by his inappropriate insinuation. It's disturbing to see how he turned your warning into something sexual.
"I already told you, I have a boyfriend. Try someone else," you respond, no longer hiding your irritation.
Toji scans the room for the table you're sitting at, locating you and who-the-fuck in three seconds. This man looks awfully cozy with you, leaning in close every time he speaks to you, so he doesn't stand around any longer and quickly makes his way back to you and this new "friend".
"You sure you don't want another drink, doll?" Toji asks, sitting down in front of you, again, his gaze darting between you and this pocket square looking man. There's a difference between your demeanor from before he left and now. You clearly aren't comfortable, anymore.
"That's it? That is your supposed boyfriend?" The man asks, attempting to minimize Toji by referring to him as if he's nothing in comparison to himself. "Oh, princess. You see this watch?" He asks, raising the cuff of his sleeve to fully reveal his golden watch. "Four thousand dollars, and that's chump change."
You look at Toji and pull his hand into your shaky one, giving him a forced smile. Toji keeps his eyes on yours as the stranger continues spewing arrogant sludge about how much money he makes a year and how even the luxury car he has parked outside didn't put the smallest dent in his wallet.
"You would have it so good with me, baby," he continues blabbering. His hand goes to your wrist, a gesture that Toji quickly puts an end to by aggressively shoving the man's hand away, your empty glass clattering on the table from the force. Toji would have snapped the man's wrist and twisted his hand off, but he didn't want to scare you with the bloodshed. He feels like he's buzzing from the anger bubbling inside, and surely it won't be long before he acts out.
"Don't fucking touch her," Toji spits, glaring at the man with an expression that would have put him six feet under, if looks could kill.
Your heartbeat is in your ears and your blood is boiling. This man is disgusting for being persistent towards someone who doesn't want him. It's masochism, at this point, with the amount of times that you've made it clear that you're not interested.
The man snorts, snobbishly. "He brought you here, of all places. Even just glancing at him, you can tell this cheap ass place is all he can afford. He'll never be able to give you everything you want, so just come with me, doll face."
You rip your hand out of Toji's grasp and stand from your chair, delivering a resounding blow to the man's already hideous face. Tables and chairs wobble as he tries to keep his balance, but when you quickly strike him again, hard enough to increase the pain you felt in your knuckles with that first hit, you manage to knock him onto the ground.
"Fuck you, you fucking asshole. You don't know shit!" You grit out, dropping down to try and land another hit to the man's bleeding face. By now, Toji is behind you, restraining your arms and pulling you back as a small crowd begins to form to observe the commotion.
"Ma, come on. Let's just go."
"Let me dent his fucking face in, Toji," you mutter, writhing in his grip.
The vile man manages to sit up, dabbing his fingertips against his busted lip. Though there is red blossoming on his face, his lips still form an amused, twisted smile. He laughs as he watches you get reeled back by Toji, seething as you are dragged away like a child having a meltdown in the middle of a store.
"Hey-- Hey, I said let's go," Toji says, his tone sharper when you continue to try to break out of his hold to fight the idiotic sociopath.
You take a deep breath and stop, willingly letting Toji take you away from this chaos you created in his defense. His hand rests on the nape of your neck, as he guides you through the stuffy bar and leads you outside to the car.
"Stop pacing," Toji says, watching as you threaten to make the asphalt beneath your feet waste away with every step you take in your heated state.
"Fucking asshole, dickhead, motherfucker." You groan, loudly, furiously, before covering your face with your hands. "It's fine, it's fine," you mumble to yourself.
"Then, stop pacing," he repeats, watching on as you walk the same steps, over and over, as if you're on autopilot. "Ma, eyes. Eyes." His hands go to your shoulders, manually forcing you to halt your movement. "Listen to me. I said eyes."
"I'm so... I can't stand still," you say, weakly.
"Stop looking around. Right here," Toji instructs, lifting one hand from your shoulder and pointing two fingers at his eyes. You release a shaky puff of air and hold his gaze as best as you can.
"Talk when you're ready," he says, following your eyes whenever they derail from his.
You aren't ready soon enough. You feel like your heart is trying to burst out of your chest and the adrenaline coursing through you isn't helping at all. Your hand hurts. Your knuckles feel bruised and they're bloody. The night might be ruined, but you felt your reaction was the only way to release the pain you felt when that nothing started talking the way he did about Toji. All you can think to do is hug Toji to prevent yourself from crying about your cause for attacking the gross man. It's all so much. You've never felt so strongly for someone, to the point where you hit a stranger for insulting them. It's scary how Toji brings that defensive, yet, offensive side out of you.
Strong, heavy arms reciprocate your embrace, keeping your tense body close. You feel warm and safe, his scent and the pressure of his hold managing to slowly calm your unsteady heartbeat. After a few seconds of quietness, you turn your head and rest the side of your face on him, finally prepared to speak.
"I didn't like how he was talking about you, Toji. He was talking shit even before you came back, and I hated it. I hated it so much, that I felt nauseous and if I hadn't done something, I would have been sick."
Toji sighs, not out of disappointment or feelings of that sort, but because you seeking out danger for his sake, was not something he ever wanted to see.
"Doll, you know how much I love you."
This sounds like a layer of sugar preceding a talking to. You're trying not to be nervous before the scolding even begins, but you feel the need to brace yourself, as well.
"I love you, too," you mumble.
Toji knows it. He's known it all along, and the events that transpired tonight were just another way of you proving your love and showing how much he matters to you.
"Want you to look at me," he says, lowering his arms on your back, allowing you to make the space necessary to give him your attention. He offers you a soft smile. "Don't get all fidgety on me after you just ripped a stranger's face open."
"I feel like you're about to yell at me," you say, lowly.
That makes him want to laugh, but he keeps his amusement to a minimum, since you're clearly anticipating something terrible.
"Nah. When have I ever raised my voice at you?"
"Never."
"Exactly. Never, and I won't start now, but I want you to get this through your pretty head... It's not your job to beat people up for me."
"I know, but-"
Toji shakes his head. "Hold on, mama. Let me finish talking, then it'll be your turn."
Your heart feels like it's in the depths of your stomach, but you nod, and allow him to continue talking.
"I'm not mad at you, i'm not gonna yell at you. Just wanna keep you safe, is all. That guy was already a fuckin' weirdo, harassing you like that and trying to get you to go with him while I was right there. I wouldn't be surprised if he was into hitting women, too, if he's so comfortable with making them uncomfortable."
It's quiet while you think of what to say. You don't want this to escalate into something that turns you against each other, when it started out as an act of love. You could argue about how you did this to defend him, but in the end, you know his own need to protect you, will stomp all over your arguments.
"I'm sorry we had to leave, but i'm not sorry for the reason behind it. I don't regret what I did."
"Ma..."
"No, Toji. He didn't even know you and yet he still said things that aren't fair." Your voice quiets down, the beginnings of stronger emotions threatening to outwardly reveal themselves. "He insulted you. He questioned your abilities as my boyfriend when he saw me alone— even after I told him you just went to the bathroom. He judged you superficially, he said you can't give me everything I want and--" you pause, interrupted by a shaky inhale and the painful lump in your throat. "Sorry," you mumble, when the first set of tears roll down your cheeks.
"No, you're alright," Toji says, in response, his warm hands coming up to cup your cheeks, thumbs wiping away your fleeing tears. There's a small pinch in his brows. Why are you crying? It's something he can't ask you, because he knows that if he makes a big spectacle out of it, you'll end up drowning in your tears and shutting down everything you have to say. He resorts to keeping your cheeks dry and encouraging you to keep talking.
"Go on, mama."
You sniff, before picking up where you left off. "I don't care about all that, Toji. I don't care where we go to spend time together, because we're together. I need you, not for you to buy me things or take me to fancy places. That's not what I'm with you for."
Your heart is beating fast, again, its rhythm no longer controlled by fear or nerves, but instead the focus that Toji has on you. He's good at holding eye contact with you, something that occasionally gets distracting if you become too aware of it. You notice that his expression is softer. Maybe it's your brief flash of tears or the way you are always subconsciously finding a way to indirectly recite some of the reasons for why you love him.
"I love you, Toji. That means I won't just sit around and let someone talk about you like you're worthless. And I know, I know you can handle things like this on your own and you don't need me, but it was hard to listen to that."
You pause, as if to give him a break from your bulldozing heart. Silence takes over the moment, both of you just looking at each other. Toji's speechlessness has you wondering if you spilled too much of your heart out to him. You know some things are better left to be figured out, such as the range of a person's love, and yet you just poured without measure. "You can call me crazy if you want to."
Toji's shit-eating grin is unexpected, but it's definitely a sight that lifts some of the heaviness you feel in your chest.
"You love me," Toji says, still smiling like a doofus. He knows your serious facade will crack if he looks at you like this for long enough. He can already see a shift in the expression of your eyes and the way your lips are pressing together just a little more. He tilts his head slightly, a gesture that pushes you even further towards that pretty smile he wants to see. When you finally crack and give into his charm, you do so with a mutter of 'you're so dumb.'
"I'm glad that's what you got out of my rambling," you say, wholeheartedly and in better spirits. Toji pulls you in, this time, his soothing warmth and familiar scent tangling around you, again. His chin rests on top of your head and his arms secure themselves around you, tightly.
"I'm not gonna call you crazy, ma. It's not what I think. Also, don't go saying things that aren't true. I do need you," Toji says, his voice level kept at an intimate volume, as if there are other people there in the parking lot with you. His words are solely meant for you to hear anyway and getting them to you in this manner ensures that you won't go home with your heart feeling heavy, after a talk that was meant to comfort you.
"You know, I don't care what other people think— and that's not to say I don't appreciate you throwing a few punches for my sake. You're a sweetheart and you care so much, but if it's a stranger saying some unimportant, dumb shit, it takes a lot for it to actually get to me. If it really bothered me, they'd be gone."
"Yeah... I know," you mumble, into his shirt, knowing you would do it again and again— countless times. You loosen your arms around Toji and he does the same, his hands dragging towards your waist after you separate.
"How's that hand?" Toji asks, picking your wrist up before you can even respond. He whistles at the sight of the slight swelling and the dry specks of crimson spotted over your knuckles.
"A little tender," you say, feeling a tinge of fear when his other hand lifts off your waist to feel the damage.
"Looks real good on your pretty hand," he says, dragging his index finger over the protruding bones of your hand.
"Does it?" You ask, your barely there smile falling when you wince at the little bit of pressure Toji applies.
"No," he responds, bringing it up to his lips and pressing a kiss to the sore area. You wince again when his thumb drags over your skin with slightly more pressure than before. "It doesn't. We'll ice it when we get home, alright?" He lets up on the torturous touching, but keeps your hand in his. The words aren't meant to hurt you. He doesn't mean them and he hopes he communicates that with the way he still opts to hold your hand. Your hands will always be pretty to him, he just can't say that to you, right now. Not if it serves as the smallest bit of encouragement for you to repeat what happened earlier, in the future.
"Okay." You nod.
"Gimme a kiss and we can go home or wherever, if you wanna stay out."
You tilt your head up and wait for his lips to meet yours. It's a gentle brush of lips, but the second Toji's hands start slipping under the back of your sweater and your shirt, you know it's going to be more than a single kiss. You can feel the night's cold wind nipping at your skin, as his hands go higher up, his fingertips reaching just below the hooks of your bra. To your surprise, he unhooks the garment, causing you to quickly press your hands to your chest when the cups loosen, to prevent them from fully sliding down.
"Toji," you manage to utter out during the wave of kisses. You turn your head, receiving a kiss that was meant for your lips, on your cheek.
"Yeah... I think we should go home," he murmurs, against your skin. "Maybe we can rock the car a little bit before we go, hm?" Toji smirks when you let out that flustered giggle he's so familiar with. He presses another kiss to your cheek before you turn to face him, again.
"Okay, but let's not blow it all here. We have a nice and comfortable bed at home. Let's add another good night to it."
You don't miss the way Toji's lustfully lidded, green eyes, keep glancing down at your hands on your chest, or how he's mindlessly caressing your bare waist, under your shirt.
"Alright, ma." He pulls out his car keys and with the press of a button, the car unlocks with a beep and the brief, dull sound of flipping locks. "Get inside."
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sukunasweetheart · 21 hours ago
Text
the tiger and his milk! 🐯
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in this world, a certain tiger hybrid male keeps a keen eye on a cow hybrid female next door...
warnings; female reader, inaccurate?omegaverse, lactation without pregnancy, animal-human hybrid AU (but theyre more human than animal tbh just imagine them with ears and a tail), heat and rut, breeding, alcohol as aphrodisiac, bullying of the cervix, tit sucking, nipple teasing, biting, dry humping, overstimulation, sexual frustration, neighbours-with-benefits, knotting, f!masturbation, lots of cum, this is straight up just a hxntai oop
word count; 6.5k
dividers by @/saradika-graphics and @/thecutestgrotto
do NOT expect a serious and well-paced writing from this one, i was horny and the end result is just.... this. sorry not sorry, I AM WARNING YALL; this is one degenerate ass fic also forgive me for any inaccuracies in any of the tropes i used, i just cherry picked the parts i wanted and mixed it all together so...
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moving to this new neighborhood hasn't been all too easy for you.
being a little low on money aside, there's a certain rambunctious neighbour who won't leave you alone. he playfully terrorises you with threats to eat you up, and makes comments that all go straight to your head, making you feel weak and flustered, leading you to cower beneath him. though you should firmly tell him to cut it out, you struggle to do this when you’re dealing with someone who could be a natural predator of yours, had you been an actual sow and not a hybrid. 
that, and also-
strangely, there's a part of you that doesn't despise the way he treats you. in fact, when you see his large, brutish hands and the veins that run up his arms, you feel yourself squeezing your thighs together. you brush it off as it being a result of your apparent loneliness and sexual frustration. there's nothing good that'd come out from being with such a discourteous man.
setting that aside... there are numerous other problems that you've been having to deal with, recently.
your breasts have been collecting milk faster, and much more than usual, recently.
even for cow hybrids, milk should only be produced when the female is pregnant, and for only a year or two at most after giving birth. for some unknown reason, you produce it all year round, even without needing to have children. doctor after doctor you've visited, and all they've told you is that you're a strange anomaly. there is nothing you can do about it except extract it every now and then, to relieve the pain and swelling.
tonight, that is what you're planning on busying yourself with, once you get home from your shitty office job.
walking towards your porch with a deep sigh, you hear a deep voice call out to you.
"bad day at work, dollface?" your terrible neighbour-- sukuna, he's called, asks you with a cigarette in his hand dressed in jeans and a black tanktop. his tail swishes playfully behind him.
dollface. one of the few nicknames he uses condescendingly to refer to you. it's either dollface, doll, or sweetheart, and you don't recall ever hearing him actually use your name.
"um, work was alright... thank you for asking. have a good evening."
you like to make things short and stop any further conversation from happening, even though it might come off as a little awkward. one of sukuna's ears flick at your dry response, but he doesn't seem to bother you any further as you hurriedly unlock your front door and head inside.
sukuna drops his cigarette bud on the ground, and puts out the flame by stepping on it. you're not very sociable, as per usual...
but your sweet, passing scent makes for a little growl to rise in the back of his throat. sweet milk. that's what you always smell like. how curious. how tempting.
once you're home, you immediately grab your breastmilk pump that sits beside your sink. it hasn't been too long since you last cleaned it. you unhook your bra, and grimace at the wet stains on it, from leaking bit by bit throughout the day.
you press the pump up against one of your breasts and press the on button. it starts doing it's job. you sigh from relief, and watch as it fills up quite quickly. you wonder what you should do with all of it...
you stop the pump to empty it out into a glass bottle. it's a tedious process. sometimes... sometimes you wish you had a partner who could help you with it. sometimes, you wish someone would latch their mouth on and extract you directly-
what if he-- sukuna- did that for you? forcefully held you down and-
your eyes widen and your tail droops with shock at your own intrusive thoughts. heavens, no! you need to get yourself a partner. it's been too long. you hope you're not heading into heat already? it's not time for that yet, at least not according to your usual cycle. shaking your head as you extract the remnants of the milk from your breasts, you finish up quickly.
at least tomorrow, it will be saturday.
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you'd forgotten about how overgrown the grass in your front yard had gotten. so, even though it's a saturday, and despite how you'd love to stay inside with all the curtains shut and doors locked tight... an unpleasant duty calls outside.
but despite the meticulous preparation of lathering enough sunscreen over yourself in protection against the sun's rays - the lawn mower suddenly doesn't want to heed to your calling.
your face scrunches up into a frown. darn thing.
the useless machine splutters and makes an obnoxious noise only in the beginning before giving out, no matter how many times you try to rev it back up again.
"goddamn it. you stupid thing," you mutter under your breath, crouching down to inspect it.
"need help?"
sukuna leans against the fence that is shorter than his own height, watching you with amusement. he'd been observing you for quite a few minutes by now.
"no thank you. i'm quite alright..." you respond without turning back. you know damn well whose voice that belongs to.
but does he listen? of course not! you hear the noise of the man easily bypassing the fence by elegantly hopping over it, before walking over towards you. how funny, even the fence fails to serve it's purpose in this moment.
"like that's believable. you think verbally degrading it will make it work?" sukuna snorts, coming around and shooing you away from the lawn mower.
he gives it a nice big rev, but not much happens. you smile slightly, wondering if he was going to make a fool of himself, after all that big attitude.
sukuna brings his foot against the side of the machine and gives it a hard kick. the sound startles you.
and now it's starting up nicely, and beginning to do it's job.
the man begins to mow your lawn for you, without another word. you stand around, not knowing what to do... your ears flicker as you stare at him doing your job for you. it feels odd. what is he up to?
well... no matter the hidden motive, it's true that he's doing you a huge favour. perhaps you should at least make a cold beverage for him, once he finishes with your yard. after observing him for a while, you head back inside to search for what would serve as an appropriate iced drink.
by the time you've stepped back outside, the yard is cut neatly and sukuna is in the midst of returning your lawn mower to your garage.
you silently hand him over his drink, and he takes it with a smirk.
"it's gone..." he suddenly comments.
"what's gone?" you question, with a raised eyebrow.
"that sweet smell that always surrounds you."
he proceeds to down his drink very quickly, not breaking eye contact with you. then, he starts chewing on the ice, tail swishing mischievously behind him.
"i... don't know what you mean." you cross your arms.
"hmm. playing dumb, i see. that's fine, i suppose."
you stand awkwardly with him in silence, simply listening to him crunching away on the ice. the heat from the sunlight gets more and more unbearable.
"if you're done with your drink... i think i'll start heading back inside now. thank you for your help today," you tell him politely, carefully taking your cup back from his hands.
he makes it seem like he's handing it over to you obediently, but then he tightens his grip against it when you're holding onto the glass, making you stare up at him in confusion. he pulls it back, so that you stumble closer to him.
"just letting you know. if you need any help, you can always ask me."
you're a bit nervous, but you try not to show it. does he know something? how much does he know? you feel your tail cowardly fall in between your legs. sukuna's ears give a light flick, but you don't know what that means.
"...we're neighbours, after all."
you look at him with distrust, holding onto your cup tighter. your gaze is unwavering as you meet his eyes.
"sure. i'll keep that in mind," you respond slowly.
seemingly satisfied, he lets go of your glass.
"thanks for the drink. see you."
it's a short backhanded wave he gives you, before he hops over the fence again. you narrow your eyes. just what kind of fence is this useless? can't even keep away one bad, bad man. you're not sure how much he's caught onto, but you sure hope he stops being interested in you with enough time. he easily sends odd tingles down your spine, and you don't like that one bit.
not at all...
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the working part of an office job isn't actually that bad.
it's the people involved around you that makes it a living hell. nothing gets your blood pressure higher than your collusive colleagues and snobby superiors - especially the lazy ones who do everything to shove their workload onto other people.
such people are yet also, annoyingly obsessed with get-togethers and teamwork, which makes you laugh.
today is such an unlucky day, that you've been dragged off to an after-work gathering at some cheap restaurant with your shitty coworkers, all because one of them decided that they needed one.
nothing like being surrounded by a bunch of people that you hate, on a wednesday evening. you have to put on a fake smile, and remain the passive, agreeable coworker in this environment. they coerce you to drink more alcohol. you want to decline, but you feel as though you'll ruin the mood if you turn them down. you down a few pints of beer.
you can feel your breasts leaking again.
just let me go home, you think to yourself, for the fifth time in a row.
your wish is only granted after an hour or two later. you're still sober, maybe a little tipsy, seeing as you can feel the heat in your face from the alcohol. your body is probably not taking it very well today.
the first thing you do when you get home is washing your hands and settling down with your little trusty pump. when you undo your bra, you sigh in relief as your chest feels free. and also...
it's probably the alcohol acting as an aphrodisiac - you're a bit more sensitive tonight. you caress the swell of your breast and groan, your horniness overriding how tired you are. your other hand wanders down your panties, and your ears droop down.
you purse your lips together and let your fingers work against your clit for an orgasm that you know will be unsatisfactory, but you chase after such pleasure regardless. your breaths quicken, and you tilt your head back, closing your eyes. nearly there...
just when you were about to reach your first high of the night, a firm knock is heard from your door. just your luck. a ruined orgasm.
who can it be, at this time of the evening? you throw on a cardigan that just barely covers you up, and boldly stomp towards the door, irritated. you could give this person just about any piece of your mind.
but when you open the door, you're met with your most cunning and bothersome of a neighbour, sukuna. maybe it's because you're hornier than ever right now - you feel as though he looks even...hotter, tonight. his scent makes you dizzy.
sukuna had come by because he needed an ingredient for his dinner.
he wasn't expecting to be met with the eye candy that is your slightly disheveled self, with one hand keeping your loose cardigan together, while you're very obviously braless, judging by your nipples jutting out against the fabric. that, and the thick smell of your arousal that hit him right when the door had opened.
"wh-what do you want?" you ask, a little breathless, trying to keep it together.
sukuna looks down at you, trying to keep himself calm. this seems amusing. he doesn't think he'll be able to stop himself from tenting his pants soon, if he stays around you longer...
"you look like you were busy with something... sorry to interrupt," he voices slyly, his fangs showing when he smiles.
"just... get on with it, please," you frown, your legs squeezing together. you can never tell what he's thinking - whether he knows everything or if he's pretending to know everything.
"nothing much, just ran out of salt at home. could i get some of yours?" sukuna shrugs innocently, holding up his empty salt jar.
"hold on a second."
you turn around to button your cardigan up with a sigh of annoyance, and you tell him to come in while you grab your salt from the kitchen.
once sukuna steps inside, he observes a million details at once. the very first thing he sees is your little pump that you'd forgotten to put away there. there's no way that puny thing is enough for you, is it?
in your kitchen, you grab your jar of salt, and attempt to open the thing - but your arms feel like jelly at the moment. you grit your teeth and try harder, cursing at yourself for shutting it so tight the last time you used it. you begin to strain your arms further. sukuna marvels at this excellent opportunity he is granted.
your feelings of irritation are whisked away when a pair of hands gently land on top of yours, against the jar. his fingertips reach the lid through the gaps between your own fingers. you feel the bigger man's body warmth, when he comes around from behind. it makes you feel so weak. your tail is hanging off to the side, raised high.
sukuna applies a bit of pressure, and the jar comes off easily. you note how warm his large hands feel.
"i came here for the salt, but now i'm thinking maybe i won't need it anymore..." he whispers down at you. your ears can't help but flicker from his voice.
"what... do you mean by that?" you ask, not knowing what to think.
he guides your hands to put the salt down on the counter. and then his body presses up against yours a little harder. you can feel his growing boner against your behind, and you feel lightheaded. sukuna peers down longingly at the exposed side of your neck.
your pheromones mix with his, and his fluffy tail curls around your leg, almost possessively. sukuna's hands are still holding onto yours, and you feel your breaths get more laboured by the tension.
"i promised to lend my help, didn't i? c'mon..." he coaxes, speaking closely so that his breath grazes against the skin of your neck.
you feel yourself starting to sweat a little more - his body heat is just too much. your chest is uncomfortably full, and the thought of someone sucking on your sensitive nipples is enough for you to finally cave in, and play the fool for the night.
you break free from his grasp for a moment, and hesitatingly point to your couch.
"...sit. it's probably easier on the couch," you tell him, not looking his way. and now you're even shoving him towards it, impatiently.
"my, how demanding," he comments teasingly. he knows you purposefully broke the tension - to prevent him from taking the lead. but he obediently takes a seat on your couch. following that, you awkwardly mount him and sit on his lap.
sukuna watches with a softer smirk as you unbutton yourself again, revealing your leaky breasts with a flustered look on your face. sukuna's hit with that familiar sweet scent that's always been floating around you all this time - but now, it's right in front of him, in full force. it makes his mouth water. he was right about you lactating.
"....go ahead," you tell him shamelessly, yet still sorely embarrassed, cheeks feeling so warm that you're concerned you might pass out. "just be gentle," you warn him, looking at him with a little hesitation and pursed lips.
sukuna feels his cock twitch against you, and he wonders if you can feel it too, from the way you're sitting right on it. his own face feels quite flushed - any man would be the same if they were in his position. such a pretty thing in his lap, willingly undoing her buttons for him. he's never seen tits more beautiful than yours.
"hurry-" you breathe out, impatient, and moreover, shy from the way he's shamelessly admiring your face and chest with a dumb smirk plastered on his face.
not even a millisecond after you say it, he puts his searing hot mouth around one of your nipples. your brain ceases to function as a zap runs through your body, and you whine without meaning to, your back arching against the couch. though you grab at his shoulder, your other hand claps over your own mouth to muffle your moans.
the suction of his mouth does wonders for pleasure, nothing like the dull feeling that your mechanic pump gives. you hear his throaty growls as he sucks on your nipple, getting a mouthful of the taste of your sweet milk. you shudder under him, becoming pliant with his touch.
sukuna bathes in your warmth and the softness of your breasts, enjoying how he is able to breathe in your scent from this close. your milk isn't like anything he's ever had before. not too sweet and yet not bland - a taste that is unique to you...
his other hand squeezes your other nipple, making sure it isn't too lonely from his touch. you jerk your hips against him, whole body twitching from the pleasure, the joy of having your tits milked by someone else rather than yourself. you can't hold your moans back any longer.
"fuck... oh please..." you mumble, feeling your breast being drained of it's milk.
he stops sucking for a moment, and you see the beautiful but subtle blush on his cheeks, as he looks up at you like he's intoxicated. he lets his tongue out and flicks it up and down your erect nipple, rolling it around the areola. it makes you whimper and tremble in his lap.
"don't... tease me..." you say through gritted teeth, frowning at him while he merely chuckles at your reaction.
sukuna attaches his mouth to your other breast, as it's leaking so much - as if to beg him to drain it next.
your cunt is pulsing so bad, and you feel yourself drenching your panties already. you subconsciously grind down against him and his obvious boner, trying to relieve yourself, desperate to reach a proper orgasm this time. both of you are in a lusty haze, unconcentrated eyes, you're lost in pleasure and he's lost in the taste of you, your breast milk dripping down his chin as he messily gulps down with greed.
sukuna also bucks his hips up against you, cock straining in his pants - god, he's so hard that it hurts. when was the last time he's felt such a way? he breathlessly sucks and slurps everything out of you, feeling the milk pass down his throat and into his stomach. he could drink this shit forever.
he wants to cum. he's gonna fucking cum. into his pants no less, like a damn virgin. with the way you're rolling your hips around and grinding down on him like a whore, its only a matter of time.
"haah... sukuna... more- do it more," you plead, relishing in the pleasure of having your tits taken care of, while you get yourself off on his very obvious erection - rubbing your clothed cunt against him. it feels so good on your sensitive clit, you're gonna lose your damn mind.
sukuna doesn't pry his lips away from your nipple, but his hands come off your breasts - you feel his arms wrap around your waist instead, holding you down against him tightly, guiding your hips and helping himself dry hump you harder while his face is still all up in your tits.
your breathing quickens even further, and you grab fistfuls of his shirt on his back, shutting your eyes in anticipation-- before letting your orgasm crash over you completely. you gasp as your clit throbs intensely, and you feel slick leaking all over in your panties as you ride your climax out against sukuna's hard cock, shuddering as you do so.
sukuna groans with his mouth still on your breast, his orgasm coming a little later than yours, dick twitching as rope after rope of his cum soils his boxers, hips bucking up into you without control - it feels so restricted in his shorts, and he desperately wants to take it out. his lips finally leave your swollen nipple with a little pop sound. his large hands come to grope the soft flesh as he comes off his high, a dull throb ringing in his cock, one orgasm being far from enough.
"look at you, rubbing your cunt all over my cock to get yourself off, like a proper slut. aren't you a little too eager?" he teases breathlessly, with a weak smirk on his face.
"you're the one... that came onto me so strongly..." you pant, drunk from the waves of pleasure you just received, and from the endless twitching of sukuna's giant cock... he's still hard.
"just admit that you're perverted. arguably, even worse than what i am," sukuna mocks, pinching at your nipples, making you wince.
"shut up, you."
in the spur of the moment, you lift your hips up slightly to shove your hand down his pants to take his dick out due to irritation. sukuna gives the slightest flinch from the sensation of your hand, grabbing onto his now bare erection.
you begin to fiercely jerk him off with a frown on your face, wanting to punish him for his comments a few seconds ago, knowing he's still sensitive from his recent orgasm.
"fuck-! what're you-" he cuts his own voice off with a choked off gasp due to the tight grip of your hand against his twitching cock. he's back to bucking his hips again as you pump up and down with both hands, his dick already being lathered with his own cum making it easier for you. the noises that come out of him almost fills you with pride - and also surprise. you'd never thought that someone like him would ever moan in this way... you jerk him off faster, and a little harder, being fixated on his pretty looking cock that keeps jumping in your hands.
"shit! that's- enough-" sukuna gasps again, chest heaving and whole body jerking, but oddly, not attempting to stop you at all.
you watch in awe, as his cock spurts out several strings of white cum once again, his head tilted back with deep groans, dick pulsing - your hands keep away from it for the first few seconds just to observe, but then you help to milk it dry, grabbing his base and slowly stroking up and down. he shudders from your touch, and the sight of him being so sorely sensitive makes you feel your heartbeat in your pussy again.
he really does cum a shit ton. it goes for what seems to be like ages, never ending pulses of his cock and rope after rope tainting your hands, and his own stomach. the way he shivers before you, how captivating his groans sound, it all makes you want to do it all over again.
you slowly rub his tip against your palm, playing with his dick as if it were a toy - but this time, he grabs your wrist to stop you.
"enough..." he says with a low voice - and the look that he gives you sends a shiver down your spine.
he's beginning to smell a bit different. its not like before. and it's getting thicker by the second...
"ah, fuck.... i'm in rut," sukuna admits with a scowl, and a flushed face.
the realisation hits you like a truck.
"look at what you've done," sukuna growls as he grabs your hips and pushes you closer towards him, his cock impossibly harder. he's breathing heavily, and you see the precum that's gathering on his tip. he won't be able to hold himself back much longer, and you know it.
and curse the omega in you - you're unable to resist him, and you can feel yourself syncing with his rut, a strange swoop occurring in your stomach. his strong pheromones make you lightheaded and feverish, instigating your submissive side as you become obedient - sitting on his lap with an eager shine in your eyes, breathing heavy from his strong scent and your desire to be dominated.
you want to have your brains fucked out. you can't take it anymore.
as if reading your mind, sukuna lunges forward and practically throws you onto your back on your couch - you let out a yelp and watch as he pulls your shorts and panties down and casts them aside, stripping you completely. you feel so vulnerable, but his intense strength and desperation is only adding to your arousal.
he pushes your knees up and rubs his cock up against your clit, and puckering hole.
"look at all this slick. you want me that bad huh?" sukuna remarks darkly, sweat gathering on his temples.
you grit your teeth, fighting the urge to give him a meek response - having the strange desire to provoke and set him off until the end.
"you're the desperate one here..." you tell him breathlessly, sensing how his dick is practically begging to be inside you, with the way it twitches on your cunt.
your blood runs cold for a second, when you see the way he looks down at you, with a vein popping out on his forehead.
"...maybe i am," he relents, with a low voice, grabbing your face.
and then he leans down to shove his lips against yours, while thrusting his cock into you at the same time.
you whimper into the kiss as his tip hits your womb like nothing. you'd ignored how massive he was at the start, but now it's impossible to brush off.
"t-too big..." you mumble when he breaks away from your lips.
sukuna groans as he drags his cock in and out of your sopping cunt, practically holding him in an iron grip from the suction. your endless amount of slick coats his dick with plenty of lubricant to fuck you more easily.
"you can take it, doll. i'll make you take it..."
his eyes dilate as he begins to piston his hips at a fast but uneven pace, groaning shamelessly as his cock ravishes your pussy by hitting all the right places, heavy balls smacking against your ass with every thrust. the pleasure runs through your veins like electricity, and you feel high off the feeling of someone so big and strong using you like you were his fleshlight - to relieve his rut.
you can barely breathe from the way he pounds you, relentlessly pushing you to the limit, tears forming in your eyes and high pitched moans coming from your throat.
"ohh-! sukuna... oh, please please please..." you plead, almost sobbing.
he responds by leaning down to lather his tongue against your scent glands, sucking on them and rest of the skin on your neck. you shudder and let out another set of whimpers - and sukuna's fangs feel antsy, wanting to sink them into your flesh.
sukuna aims for the sweetness from your breasts, to distract himself. you cry out as he roughly latches onto your nipple and begins to suck as he squeezes your soft flesh. his cock feels like it's about to burst.
when he stimulates your nipples a certain way and his tip grazes your g-spot at the same time, you're hit with an orgasm that makes you squeal and has your cunt fluttering uncontrollably.
his dick gives in to the sudden milkings of your pussy and sukuna pushes his hips to settle himself into you as deep as he can - giving a choked off groan from the sudden climax as his cock swells up inside of you, anchoring itself.
the knowledge of him knotting you doesn't seem to matter as you enjoy the feeling of the warm gush of his cum pouring into your womb, his balls clenching with every rope that spurts out, messily coating your walls with white.
sukuna pants so heavily above you, abs flexing as he continues to orgasm in your warm cunt that still has a dull pulse from your previous climax. he nuzzles into the crook of your neck with a soft growl, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders.
your breathing relaxes as you lay still on the couch while sukuna weighs you down and breeds you properly, consequences be damned. you could try and fight him off, but it's been so long since you've been so sexually satisfied that your logical thinking has turned itself off. all you want to do is enjoy bathing in the pheromones of your alpha and let the heaviness of his large body drape over yours as he pumps you full of his babies.
sukuna is usually very careful about who he's around when he's in a rut - and he's always made sure either he or his partner had some sort of protection on before doing anything. he wouldn't want to go around having kids with the wrong people. it's hard to say whether you're wrong or right for him - he doesn't know much about you to judge yet...
but you make him feel so right.
and he's still fighting off the urge to mark you to make you officially his, with drool beginning to run down his chin. his fangs are making it unbearable; he needs to bite something right now.
"you look restless..." you tell him, getting him to tear his gaze away from your neck, to your face instead.
you pull him in for a messy kiss, slipping your tongue into his mouth. he feels the way you brush over his fangs, paying extra attention to them as you make out with him, and it makes him groan. you must have done this with someone else before. sukuna nips at your tongue and lower lip, doing his best not to break skin - trying to relieve himself of the urge to bite.
the swell of his knot is gradually subsiding, but you know that the night is far from over.
"which way to your bedroom?" sukuna asks after breaking away from your kiss, breathlessly.
"farthest down the corridor, past the kitchen.." you respond, feeling a little needy after he abruptly stopped the kiss like that.
"hold onto me."
he lifts you up easily with his arms, and you wrap your legs around his waist, arms over his shoulders. the display of strength makes your heartbeat quicken.
when you're laid upon the soft mattress of your bed, his lips come crashing down again - while his hips begin to give shallow thrusts, cock still hard and throbbing. sukuna kisses you like he's a man starved, and you feel as though he might actually swallow you up at this rate.
the strong grip on your hips tighten as his pace gets rougher. you have to break away to gasp and moan. every time he jostles your body, you feel his previous heavy load sloshing inside you, and it's getting too much. sukuna doesn't look like he's even entirely here, hips moving mindlessly and drool dripping down his chin - it's a terrifyingly arousing sight.
he tries to come down and kiss you again, but you have to push his face away - you're so out of breath that you're afraid you might pass out if he does that again. it's overwhelming, how his thick cock bullies itself against your walls over and over again.
sukuna doesn't seem too pleased that you're pushing him away; he holds you tighter and he adjusts his hips to fuck you deeper. you mewl loudly, but keep your hand weakly against his face - he doesn't force it away, but lets his tongue droop out, caressing your fingers with it. you feel him bite and suck on your hand as his sharp thrusts produce small bulges in your stomach.
you witness his eyes dilating again, and you swear you see hearts in them this time, your fingers still in his mouth.
his dick feels so, so good in your pussy. your intoxicating smell now surrounds him after coming into your bedroom, and it's driving him insane. he grunts above you, balls feeling heavy, dick pulsing as his tip finds its way knocking on your cervix. there's a thick ring of cream foaming on the base of his cock now, a mixed concoction of both his cum and your slick.
his thrusting gets sloppy and his hips stutter, meaning that he's going to orgasm again. sukuna's eyes roll back, as he messily "kisses" your hand, pushing himself balls deep into you at the final moment.
you arch your back at the sensation of his knot swelling up once again, cumming at this moment. sukuna almost topples over from the tightness, as the walls of your cunt flutter around his knot, effectively squeezing everything out of him.
"f-fu-uuck..." he drones out, his voice dragging the curse word out.
you feel him dumping every drop into your poor womb, emptying his balls. you're afraid that you'll get addicted to this "full" feeling, the warmth of his seed filling you up, the way your insides can feel his cock twitch violently with every thick string of cum he shoots out. you never imagined being held down and inseminated would feel this good.
sukuna's eyes are half-lidded, pleasure continuing to run up and down his spine. he pins your wrist down against the bed suddenly, and latches his mouth to one of your breasts - beginning to suck immediately, like he's trying to rehydrate himself with your milk. you shudder. it seems as though he's doing nothing but take, take, and take from your body... not that you'll stop him from doing so.
you run your fingers through his soft hair, catching your breath, slightly trembling each time he sucks a little too hard. shortly after he is seemingly content, he completely collapses his body over yours, face all up in your breasts, purring while his knot still sits inside of you.
you sense that it's only the beginning of a long, long night.
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once the sun has rolled into the sky, you finally remember the fact that the weekdays haven't finished yet - and that you're supposed to be getting ready for work right now.
problem is, there's a certain someone clinging to your whole body from behind, still purring against the nape of your neck with a hand lazily groping the flesh of your tit. you can feel his fluffy tail curling around yours, possessively. you're sleepy, and his stupid purring keeps coaxing you to take a nap. he's a lot more docile and softhearted than you imagined. you supposed he'd be out of your house by now.
you reach out and feel around to grab your phone, to give your workplace a call to take the day off. while you're on the phone, sukuna places soft kisses down your back. you hope your boss can't hear the excessive vibration in the background. once you're done with that, you shove your phone under your pillow.
"i need a nap... you can use my shower, or go home, whichever you prefer," you tell him sleepily, shutting your eyes.
"is sleeping next to you also an option?" he asks from behind you, snuggling up closer.
"mm," you reply mindlessly, already dozing off. he slips his arm under your head. admittedly, his arm pillow does feel comfortable.
when you next wake up in a few hours time, you don't know what to feel when you notice that he's still next to you in bed.
"finally awake?"
"yeah... i'm surprised you haven't left," you mumble, following that with a yawn.
"i'm surprised you're not chasing me out," he shoots back.
"what would be the point? i'll see you again the moment i step outside the house."
"i bet you love that. being able to see me all the time," sukuna teases, twirling a strand of your hair with his finger.
"ugh, think what you will," you roll your eyes, trying not to be flustered.
you suddenly realise how thirsty and hungry you are.
"i'm starving... i don't remember what's in the fridge," you mumble to yourself.
"hop in the shower with me and i'll take care of all your meals today," he offers, smirking.
you don't really trust his intentions - especially something as intimate as showering together - but you are famished, and you don't think you will be bothered to cook at all today.
"what meals are we thinking?" you ask, curious.
"hm. well, how about steak?"
"... is that a threat?"
sukuna bursts into laughter.
he informs you that the salt he had originally wanted from you was supposed to be for the steak he was cooking last night. who knew that he'd be having a different kind of steak that evening? you look unamused as he makes the joke between chuckles.
unsurprisingly, you do end up in the shower with him, and again, unsurprisingly, he does pay extra attention to soaping up your tits in particular, and making out with you a little here and there. but as promised, you are rewarded with possibly the best meals you've ever had since you moved to this neighbourhood.
after a bit of conversation, turns out the man is a freelance chef, which is something you would've never guessed. from first glance, he seemed like he could've been part of some gang or a shady underground business.
when you sheepishly apologise for misjudging him based on his looks, sukuna laughs once again, and tells you that he'll forgive you if you let him continue to "help you out" from here onwards...
the rest is in dot points bc im lazy!
originally, i had wanted to make this a bit more toxic but i turned it more wholesome bc i felt like ive already posted toxic stuff before this so haha...
btw you do a few pregnancy checks while sukuna is still there after that night, and it turns out negative. it's a big sigh of relief for you and while it should be the case for sukuna too, since he's never really liked the idea of having kids, for some reason there's the tiniest twinge of disappointment...
anyway - after this, their relationship turns into a weird mix between friends with benefits and ?lovers, semi slow burn
often crashing in each others beds and sharing meals, but also having periods where you won't see one another for a week or so when life gets busy
thing is, you always try and tell yourself that you'll only use him to relieve the swell in your breasts, but it's never the case. things always go out of control and you end up bouncing on his cock without thinking of the consequences.
and he can't stop himself from teasing you everytime, those tits of yours could kill a man, he swears. sukuna gets extremely touchy with them, grazing his fingertips over your nipples, groping you with your shirt still on like a lewd old man, life just feels better when he has your tit in his mouth or hands. it hardly feels like he's actually bullying you when he gets hard like a mf while doing it.
and there are moments where he blurs the line between FWB and becoming something a little more, like when he scents you before you leave his place. "...why're you scenting me?" "why not?"
there is an incident that happens in your house one time, where a huge water leak had happened while you were away at work, drenching the floorboards and things requiring a lot of fixing. you had nowhere else to stay that wasn't either a motel or some cheap sauna so sukuna offered you to sleep at his place for the time being.
"but there's nowhere for you to sleep except for my bed. i'm not bothered to clean out any of the spare rooms and i don't suppose you want to sleep on the sofa for weeks straight?" a sly method of getting you to sleep next to him.
it really made things between you two feel a lot more intimate and romantic, a lot of tension, especially when sleeping together without the sex and doing all the chores. both of you felt a little empty when the house maintenance was all done and you had to go back to your own place.
also, this man is quite loaded with money. freelance chef popular in demand, but he only takes up jobs that he feels like doing. sometimes he'll leave his house empty for longer times because he's busy, which makes you quite lonely and confused, since he doesn't really explain to you where he's going and why a lot of the time.
when he eventually is back again, he is met with you, holding the scent of some other alpha. he finds himself feeling incredibly upset and possessive, even though he's always deemed relationships to be superficial in his life, because it limits his freedom. but he just feels so deeply unhappy about it that he ends up arguing with you
he knows it shouldn't be something he is entitled to feel angry about when he's not even properly committed to you but it's not like he's ever mingled with other omegas ever since he's met you? it just felt so unfair to him in the moment.
shortly after the argument, you end up confessing you didn't even do anything with the alpha anyway, just a boring date and one quick hug. and sukuna also explains that it was his fault in the first place, leaving and coming back without saying anything. turns out that he sometimes works as a chef in places like hotels and when he's preparing food for companies or people who live a distance away, he just spends the nights somewhere nearby for convenience.
the tension is high after both of you are finished clearing things up, and it eventually leads to sex again. he wants to get rid of that scent ASAP, whether it was from just a hug or not, he needs it GONE. and this time, he properly marks you, sinking his fangs into your scent glands like he's always ached to do.
the night ends with you two officially becoming a couple, finally haha, happy days
the end
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alsofoundinpeas · 2 days ago
Text
In the Blink of a Lens
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Summary: When Spencer Reid finally succumbs to technology and gets a smartphone, he takes a tentative step into the digital world by sending his best friend (and colleague) Y/N a picture. What starts as an innocent attempt to embrace modern tech leaves Y/N flustered as the seemingly innocent gesture forces her to confront feelings she’s been ignoring for years. Neither of them is prepared for the powerful impact of a single, innocent photo as the lines between friendship and something more start to blur.
(AKA Spencer sends the above selfie and reader gets horny because his hand is quite literally swallowing the phone HAHAHA)
CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI!! This fic is intended for adult audiences. Hand kink/fixation. Overstimulation. Oral (both m and f receiving). Fingering. Unprotected sex/P in V sex (do as I say not as I do and STAY PROTECTED IRL!!). Dirty talk/praise kink. Softdom!Spencer and bratty!sub!reader. Some religious phrasing (because who are fanfic writers really without it?) Pull-out method used (again, do as I say not as I do!!) Very brief mention of a sex toy (doesn't get used). Fluffy smut. Two idiots in love/best friends to lovers trope. <3
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!BAU!reader
A/N: This is my humble contribution to the Spencer Reid hand kink supremacy (no but seriously how are his hands THAT attractive??). This is kinda sorta an AU I guess because I wrote this with season four Reid in mind but I'm not sure (and Google will not give me a clear answer) if that type of iPhone was around then so let's just pretend it was for the sake of the fic pls. :') Also the "Sincerely, Spencer Reid" was a direct nod to B99's very own Raymond Holt because I could definitely see him and Spence handling tech the same way LMAO. As always, please tell me what you think! :) If you enjoy it, please like, reblog, and share it with your friends! <3 Thank you and I love you all :) (I also ask that my work not be uploaded to other platforms or translated without my explicit permission. Thank you!)
Am I doing this selfie thing right? Sincerely, Spencer Reid
The screen felt almost blinding in the dim lighting of Y/N's bedroom as she stared slack-jawed at the image open on her phone.
Spencer finally upgraded to a smartphone a week ago after an unfortunate crash to the ground (stupid raised sidewalk) shattered the old flip phone that had long ago earned him the nickname "Grandpa" from his pain-in-the-ass-loving best friend. Y/N had never seen a man so devastated over losing what was essentially a brick that made calls, so to cheer him up, she helped him pick out a new phone and set it up.
She was beginning to regret that decision as she gawked at the selfie Spencer had sent.
It was sweet—an innocent photo of him sitting in his car, just after finishing the paperwork he’d insisted on handling alone, despite her offers to help. He'd banished her to her apartment, as stubborn as ever. The shot was taken in his rearview mirror, a faint grin tugging at his lips, his maple-toned eyes obscured by the phone. There was nothing about the image that should have made her pulse quicken. But when the realization hit her, a rush of warmth flooded her face.
It was his hand.
His hand seemed almost too big for the phone, dwarfing it as he snapped the picture. It wasn’t that she hadn’t noticed how large his hands were—everyone did—but she’d never given it much thought. Until now. Watching the way his fingers effortlessly swallowed the device, she couldn’t tear her eyes away. There was something about the sheer size of his hand, the way it seemed to overpower the phone, that made her suddenly hyper-aware of every detail.
His fingers were long, elegant, and well-cared-for; fingers that seemed capable of touching parts of her she'd never been able to reach on her own—
No. No, no, no. There was absolutely no way she was having these thoughts about Spencer Reid. Spencer, her endearingly awkward best friend of four years. Her rock. Her partner in the field. The man she’d always thought of as just that—nothing more. Well...
Y/N did have a crush on him once, in the earliest stages of their friendship. But it was just a small, silly, unreciprocated crush that she locked away in the deepest parts of her subconscious so that she could at least still be his friend. She accepted that it would never happen and moved on. Or she thought she had...
A muffled curse leaves Y/N's lips as she realizes she never responded, her thumbs hovering over the keyboard as she struggles to think of a response. Since when has she ever struggled to talk to Spencer? Seriously, what the fuck was wrong with her tonight? Was she ovulating?
Y/N: Next time, show off those pretty brown eyes of yours and you've got it down pat :)
Okay... That sounded way flirtier than she intended... But that's how they usually joked with each other, right? She was just overthinking everything because she was exhausted from their most recent case. That's it.
Y/N: Also... why have you not put your phone case on yet?? You're practically begging for another sidewalk incident to happen, Grandpa.
That's better. That feels normal.
She sets her phone down on her nightstand, picking up her abandoned book to continue reading. Y/N's heart rate is almost back to normal when her phone's ringtone blaring startles her, the book falling to her lap with a muted thud. An annoyed groan rumbles in her throat as she reaches over to grab the device, internally praying it wasn't Hotch calling with another case. They had JUST gotten back from Ohio not even six hours ago and she just wanted to rest—
To her surprise, it was Spencer calling.
"It's awfully late for you to be calling, Grandpa," Y/N drawled as she answered the call, her lips curling up into a grin as she heard Spencer scoff on the other line. "Shouldn't you be in bed by now?"
"I am in bed," Spencer grumbled in response, and she could hear some shuffling as he got comfortable. "And I put the case on right after I sent the selfie, thank you very much. Speaking of, did you know that the origin of selfies was actually believed to be..."
Spencer launched into a thorough explanation of not only the origins of selfies but also a detailed account of why self-portraits came about. Y/N hung onto every word, just as she always did when he spoke. Most people found his rambling to be annoying, but not her. She thought it was fascinating how much information he kept tucked away in that brain of his and was more than willing to listen and ask questions about anything he blurted out.
The conversation stretches on for another hour, neither of them wanting to be the one to end it. It’s not until the fifth yawn escapes Spencer that Y/N finally chuckles into the phone before reluctantly saying goodnight. Spencer’s voice is warm as he wishes her sweet dreams, and the call ends with the soft beep of disconnecting. And, for the first time in a long while, sweet dreams she did have…
"Does that feel good? Hm, pretty girl?" Spencer murmured into her ear as she writhed between his spread legs, her bare back pressed flush to his clothed chest.
The night had started with celebratory drinks after finally closing one of their more grueling cases, the team getting some much-needed relaxation and bonding in. Spencer was Y/N's designated driver as per usual since he didn't drink, instead choosing to nurse a soda as he eyed Y/N down from across the booth.
He was directly across from her, snugly between Derek and Hotch. But he wasn't paying attention to them. His eyes had been fixated on her from the moment she'd come back from the bar with Emily and Penelope, tracing the contours of her flushed face as she tipped her head back and took another shot.
Y/N had no intentions of getting completely drunk, instead choosing to remain just tipsy enough to enjoy the warmth that flowed through her body from the alcohol and maintain a steady buzz. That way she could be aware of her surroundings while also enjoying herself and the company of her team.
The bar was dim, the pounding of her heartbeat matching the beat of the music bumping overhead as her gaze fell on Spencer. Her brows furrowed at the unabashedly hungry look in his eyes, her tongue poking out to wet her lips subconsciously. She had to have been hallucinating. There was no way he'd be looking at her like that... right?
But he had been. And that same look is exactly what led them to where they were now, with Spencer propped up against her headboard holding her at his mercy while his fingers pumped tirelessly into her drenched pussy. She was sure the sight of them was downright filthy, an erotic contrast of her completely bare body pressed against his fully clothed one.
Y/N was in shambles, her legs trembling as her nails dug uselessly into his thighs while soft whimpers and moans flowed freely from her kiss-swollen lips. Her mind was reeling, a dizzying mixture of the remaining alcohol in her system, the pleasure coiling tightly in her lower stomach, and the knowledge that it was Spencer causing said pleasure.
She was so, so close... just a few more strokes of his fingers and...
A sharp gasp sounded through the bedroom as Y/N jolted awake, her chest heaving as she shakily sat up to turn off her alarm. She blinked hard, attempting to clear the fog from her vision as she fell back into her pillows. The dull aching between her thighs served as a sore reminder of what she was so close to achieving in her dream...
Her eyes snapped open as the memory of the dream hit her like a tidal wave. Guilt, confusion, and sheer horror crashed over her, and she groaned, her hands dragging down her face in frustrated disbelief. She’d just had a dream—a wet dream—about Spencer Fucking Reid.
What had gotten into her?
Before she could dive too deep into why her crush on Spencer had apparently resurfaced with a vengeance after being dormant for so long, her phone dinged with a message from the genius himself. It felt like the universe was rubbing salt in the wound, taunting her for the forbidden thoughts she couldn’t seem to shake about her best friend.
Spence <3: Are you going to get coffee? Sincerely, Spencer Reid
Y/N snorted out a laugh at how he signed his text, shaking her head as she responded.
Y/N: ... Spence, you don't have to sign your name on each text. I have your number saved. And yes, I am :)
A minute passes before his response comes through.
Spence <3: Oh. Well then, can you also bring me coffee please?
Y/N: Of course I can <3
Her earlier guilt lingers in the pit of her stomach as she sets the phone down, rolling out of bed with a sigh to begin getting ready for work. How was she going to face him after having a dream like that? Maybe it was a fluke; a one-off occurrence manifested from her lack of sexual endeavors so her brain had no choice but to use Spencer as a fill-in for her fantasies.
Opting to pretend it never happened so she could face her best friend later, Y/N finished getting ready and left for the café, determined to get there on time for work.
The elevator dinged as Y/N strolled into the bullpen, her and Spencer's usual orders in hand and a soft smile on her face. Thankfully, today was a paperwork day—a task most of the team dreaded, but one Y/N welcomed. It gave her a chance to recover from the constant motion sickness from the jet and the relentless flirtations of the officers when they worked cases out of state.
"Mm, my very own coffee fairy!" Spencer grinned, setting down the stack of papers he’d been poring over. His eyes sparkled as she made her way across the room, finally meeting his gaze from across the desk as she stopped in front of him. "Have I ever told you you're the best?"
"Yes, you have," Y/N teased with a playful grin, holding out his coffee. "But I don’t mind hearing it more often."
Her dream, it seemed, hadn’t been a fluke, a realization that hits her as Spencer grabs his coffee. Her eyes involuntarily track the way his fingers curl around the Styrofoam cup, and a shiver runs up her spine when they inadvertently brush against hers. Her cheeks flush as she quickly pulls her gaze away, meeting his curious eyes instead.
"You feeling okay, Y/N? You look a little flushed," Spencer murmured, his brow furrowed in concern as he eyed her over the rim of his cup.
Y/N blinked, her heart pounding in her throat as she swallowed and nodded. The sight had sent her mind reeling, the memory of those same fingers buried deep inside of her in her dream the night before surfacing against her will.
"Y-yeah. Yeah, I'm fine I just-"
Before Y/N could finish stammering out her lame excuse, Morgan sauntered into the bullpen with Garcia, the pair immediately honing in on her and Spencer as they made their way over.
"Oh, c'mon Y/N! Seriously? Pretty boy here gets a coffee but the rest of us don't?" Morgan taunted, chuckling as Y/N reached out to playfully swat at his arm with an eye roll.
"Well obviously! He's her work husband," Penelope chimed in matter-of-factly, giggling as she wiggled her eyebrows. "It would mean a divorce was brewing if she didn't."
The team had started the joke years ago, teasing her and Spencer for being the youngest members and for how quickly they’d clicked. To everyone else, it was obvious their friendship ran deeper than either of the two realized. The problem was that neither one of them could see it. Some profilers they were.
No matter how many times the joke was made, Spencer’s face still turned bright red every single time.
"Har dee har har," Spencer scoffed, his eyes shifting to the cup still gripped in his hand.
The banter was cut short as Hotch stepped out of his office, everyone mumbling their goodbyes and scurrying back to their desks to get their work done. Y/N welcomed the distraction with open arms, diving into her work to try to get her mind off of her conflicted feelings towards her best friend.
All day long, Y/N fought the growing urge to watch Spencer’s hands, but it was impossible to ignore. Her eyes were drawn to the way his fingers traced the edge of a case file as he analyzed it, or how they drummed a steady rhythm on his desk, each tap somehow amplifying the tension she was trying to suppress.
Her breaking point came when the team was wrapping up for the day. Spencer, eager to show off, insisted on demonstrating a new cardistry trick he’d learned. The rest of the team gathered around, and Y/N felt herself drawn in, unable to look away. Her eyes locked on his fingers as he deftly manipulated the cards, the muscles in his hands flexing with each smooth, controlled movement. She barely registered her open mouth or the way her pulse quickened—every part of her attention was on him.
Y/N was jolted back to reality when Emily nudged her, a raised eyebrow full of amusement as the rest of the team cheered and complimented Spencer on his newly acquired skill. Rather than meet Emily’s knowing look, Y/N quickly murmured her praise for Spencer, then hastily made her exit, claiming she needed to hit a store before it closed.
If she thought that day was bad, the next few weeks were hell.
The BAU had two back-to-back cases, leaving them no time to rest as they flew straight from Tennessee to Arizona. The dry heat seemed to make Spencer restless—constantly running his fingers through his hair, fidgeting with his watch, or rolling up his sleeves. Meanwhile, Y/N felt her sanity slipping away, her thoughts unraveling as she stumbled over her words or completely lost track of what she was saying—because she couldn’t stop staring at those goddamned hands.
Spencer wasn’t blind to the shift in her behavior. He’d noticed how she started to occupy herself with something whenever he entered the room, or how she became increasingly uneasy around him—spinning the rings on her fingers, tugging at the necklace he'd given her for her last birthday, or even finding reasons to leave the room entirely the moment he stepped in.
Y/N's usual teasing had begun to feel hollow, and the familiar touches she used to give him—guiding him gently by the hand, rubbing his shoulder when frustration set in, or planting an exaggerated kiss on his cheek before leaving—had completely disappeared.
He felt gutted, unable to think of a single reason for Y/N's sudden distance. The uncertainty gnawed at him, twisting his stomach with worry. What if she was tired of him? Or worse… what if she had finally seen through his feelings for her and was repulsed by them?
When the team wrapped up in Arizona and boarded the jet home, Spencer made up his mind.
After Y/N chose to sit next to Emily instead of her usual spot beside him, he couldn’t take it anymore. The not knowing was eating at him, and more than anything… he missed her. She was the one person who saw him for who he truly was, the one who understood him better than he understood himself. The one who brought him solace during the toughest cases and reminded him why he kept going. The thought of losing her was unbearable, and he promised himself he’d do whatever it took to fix whatever had gone wrong.
As soon as the jet touched down in Quantico, Y/N quickly muttered her goodbyes and made a beeline for the parking garage. Finally, she was free. Free to go home, shut herself off, and stop behaving like a complete mess around Spencer. She hated how distant she’d been, but she couldn’t help it. The weight of her obsessive thoughts about him and the feelings she’d tried to bury for so long had completely overridden her rational thoughts, leaving her acting out of control.
Fingers closed around her upper arm just inches from her car, and a sharp yelp escaped her lips. She spun around, startled, to find an equally surprised Spencer standing there. She had been so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she hadn't heard him following her.
"Jesus, Grandpa! Make an announcement before you sneak up on people!" Y/N complained loudly, turning away from him to unlock her car and toss her go bag into the backseat.
Spencer couldn't help but feel some relief at the nickname, a surge of hope coursing through him. Grandpa. She hadn't called him that in almost two weeks. He cleared his throat, holding onto his courage as he finally addressed her recent behavior.
"Sorry! Sorry, I just— I wanted to make sure we were okay? I’ve noticed you’ve been acting… not like yourself lately. Not that I’m calling you weird or anything—"
Y/N's heart broke at the nervous rambling spewing from his lips as he stood before her, tucked into himself and fidgeting with his hands as he tried to speak. God, she was such an asshole.
"Spence," Y/N murmured, gently interrupting him before letting out a soft sigh. "I promise, we're fine. I’m sorry if I’ve seemed distant. It’s just… I’ve been so stressed with the cases, and compartmentalizing has been harder than usual. I guess I didn’t want to drag you into it. I’m really sorry."
It wasn't necessarily a lie. She really had been stressed and struggling with compartmentalizing... just not because of their job.
Spencer’s shoulders relaxed, his tense expression softening into one of understanding. “You know I’m always here for you, right? You don’t have to carry that burden alone. I’d much rather you let me in than struggle with it on your own."
Scratch that. She wasn't just an asshole. She was the biggest asshole in the world for making him feel the way he had.
"I know that. I really do," Y/N murmured, her fingers nervously playing with her lip. "It's just… I get way too independent sometimes." She sighed, then brightened. "How about this? Tomorrow’s our first Saturday off in over a month… Why don’t you come over and we can do a movie marathon? We could use some good 'work spouse' bonding, don’t you think?"
Spencer’s smile stretched across his face, his voice a little more eager than usual and his cheeks flushed. "Yeah, I'd, uh... I'd love that. Let's do it."
Y/N returned his grin, her heart fluttering from how excited he looked. Relief flooded through her veins as he agreed to her plans, not realizing how much she had truly missed him the past few weeks since she'd been so focused on trying not to gawk at him every five minutes.
"Perfect. It’s a date,” Y/N teased, her smile widening. “Now, get in. I’m not letting you take the train back this late."
"What? Isn't this what you wanted, sweetheart?" Spencer crooned into her ear, tightening his hold around her wrists as he kept them pinned above her head.
Another frustrated whine left her lips as she tugged uselessly against his hold, but they both knew she didn't actually want to slip free. One of his hands was wrapped tightly around both of her wrists, his other tracing maddeningly up and down her side.
"Or did you want Officer Davidson's hands on you instead?" His tone was taunting, a hint of jealousy tainting his words as he tightened his grip.
The moment they stepped into their shared hotel room after leaving the precinct, Spencer was all over her. She’d noticed the heated glares he shot her way while she stood across the room, wearing a bored expression as Officer Davidson repeatedly (and unsuccessfully) tried to flirt with her.
They hadn't announced their new relationship status to the team yet per Spencer's insistence, but it was obvious from the intensity in Spencer’s eyes that he wanted to shout it to the world now. The way he glared at Davidson made it clear he was ready to stake his claim, watching the officer eye her like prey.
Now they were here, with Spencer hellbent on making sure she understood that she was his.
Y/N shook her head, looking up at Spencer pleadingly as she tilted her hips up in search of his. "No, never. Only want you, Spence."
A dark chuckle escaped him as he smirked down at her, his hand, which had been trailing along her side, now cupping her chin. His fingers gently squeezed her cheeks, coaxing her lips into a pout.
"Only me? Is that right, sweet girl?" Spencer cooed, loosening his grip to press on her bottom lip with his thumb before sliding the digit into her mouth. "Because it sure looked like you were enjoying his attention."
The flushed head of his cock teased her entrance, pressing between her folds as his hips slowly rocked back and forth, prolonging her teasing instead of giving her what she wanted. She groaned around his thumb, sucking the digit further into her mouth and holding his gaze in an effort to tempt him into finally fucking her instead of just grinding against her.
A soft hiss fell from his lips as his gaze darkened. He shifted his weight above her, keeping her wrists clasped in his hand and shoving them into the mattress as he began to rut against her harder. Her sharp gasp sounded through the air as he angled his hips up, the tip of his cock dipping into her deliciously before he halted his movements, keeping only a few inches inside of her.
Y/N writhed beneath him, whimpering her protests around his thumb as her jaw slackened, muffled pleas spilling from her lips as she began to beg uselessly for him to just fuck her already.
Spencer pressed down on her tongue with his thumb, a grunt escaping him before he yanked his thumb out of her mouth, using the hand to pin her down instead.
"Be still—"
Y/N’s eyes fluttered open, the harsh light of morning pouring through her curtains, and she let out a disgruntled groan as she blindly searched for her phone on the nightstand. After weeks of peaceful, dreamless sleep, of course she would dream about Spencer the night before their hangout. Wait—
Y/N sat up abruptly, unlocking her phone to check the time, only to notice a message waiting for her on the lock screen.
Spence <3: I’ll be there in an hour with a surprise.
Sent twenty-three minutes ago.
Fuck. She'd completely forgotten to set an alarm to get ready for their movie marathon, despite being the one who had suggested it in the first place. Whatever brain cells that photo had scrambled in her brain needed to get a grip so she could function on a level above Neanderthal.
Y/N: Surprise? You spoil me, old man. I'll see you then :)
Y/N exhaled wearily, rolling out of bed and dragging her feet across the plush carpet. She shuffled over to her dresser, picking out an outfit consisting of black yoga pants and an old band tee before heading to the bathroom for a cold shower. Maybe it would clear her head—or at least get rid of the incessant aching between her thighs. It worked on men, right?
One miserable shower and a change of clothes later, Y/N finally managed to clear some of the fog clouding her mind. She darted around her apartment, tidying up in a flurry before Spencer arrived. Moving between the kitchen and the living room, she gathered everything for their movie marathon: a pile of 90's slasher films spread out on the coffee table, her biggest throw blanket draped across the sectional, and a bag of popcorn popping away in the microwave.
Spencer's signature knock rang through the apartment at the same time the microwave started beeping, signaling that the popcorn was done.
"Coming!" Y/N shouted from the kitchen, opening the microwave door so it wouldn't repeat the shrill noise before making her way to the front door.
She swings it open with an excited grin, her gaze immediately dropping to the bag in Spencer's hand. She beckons for Spencer to come in, trying to sneak a peek at what was in the slightly crinkled paper bag.
"Geez, don't look too excited to see me," Spencer chuckled, following Y/N into her kitchen.
She waved dismissively, laughing softly as she grabbed the bag of popcorn and a bowl to pour it into. Spencer sat the bag on the counter, finally revealing its contents as he pulled out a tub of ice cream and some sour gummy worms.
"A man after my own heart!" Y/N gasped with an exaggerated swoon, cackling as Spencer swatted at her playfully.
"You said you were stressed, and I know you’ve got a sweet tooth just like me, so I figured it’d be perfect for our movie marathon," Spencer said with a shrug, the faintest blush creeping up his neck.
That kind of thoughtful behavior was just another reason her emotions had been in turmoil for the past few weeks. The selfie had opened a door to a spiral of introspection, one that made her revisit every moment they’d shared. She had always known their friendship straddled the line between platonic and something more, but she’d convinced herself it was simply because they were so comfortable with one another. It wasn’t until now that she began to wonder if those boundaries had been blurred intentionally — if, deep down, they both had wanted more all along.
The movie marathon kicked off after a bit of grumbling from Spencer, who finally gave in to watching the cheesy slasher films he’d insisted were beneath him. A few awkward moments of shifting on the couch later, they settled into a comfortable spot—Y/N tucked into his side, both of them with snacks in their laps and the throw blanket wrapped around them, ready to dive into the horror-filled lineup.
As they settled into the movie, Spencer’s gaze lingered on Y/N for a moment too long. He noticed the drip of vanilla ice cream at the corner of her mouth, the sight causing an unwelcome tightness in his pants. Before he could stop himself, he reached over. His thumb gently swiped the sugary trail now pooling along her lower lip, a soft swipe that left his hand lingering a fraction of a second longer than necessary.
"Here, you've got a little..."
The words died in his throat as her lips wrapped around his thumb, both of their eyes widening as their gaze met.
In that moment, everything fell into place for Spencer. It wasn’t stress that had been driving her distant behavior—he realized with a sudden jolt—it was something else entirely. The way she'd been pulling away, the tension between them… it wasn’t just exhaustion or anxiety. No, it was something far more complicated. It was desire.
Y/N jerked backward, nearly sending all of their precariously placed snacks to the floor as her face burned with embarrassment. "Oh, my God I- I'm so sorry Spence," she stammered, her words tripping over each other. "I have no idea why I did that-"
"Y/N."
Spencer cut her off with a hushed murmur of her name, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she stopped her nervous rambling.
"It's okay. I-I liked it," Spencer reassured her softly.
Y/N stared at him, dumbfounded.
"What?"
"I liked it."
Spencer repeated himself surely, but the tremble in his voice gave away the fact that his brave front was exactly that: a front.
"I—" He hesitated, a heavy sigh escaping him. His hands fumbled with the snacks for a moment, setting them carefully on the coffee table as if buying time. He finally turned to face her fully, the weight of his words settling in. "Y/N… I've been in love with you since the moment I met you. I never said anything because I was scared… scared you wouldn’t feel the same. And after everything these past few weeks, with you pulling away, I thought maybe you’d figured it out and hated me for it. But… maybe I was wrong. Maybe you actually feel the same way I do..."
Y/N’s mouth parted in shock, her mouth opening and closing like she wanted to say something—anything—but the words just wouldn’t come. Spencer loved her. He always had. And she had spent all this time convincing herself her feelings were one-sided, certain he couldn’t possibly feel the same way.
Spencer's voice wavered as he spoke, his eyes searching hers with a quiet intensity. "Please, tell me I was wrong. Tell me you feel the same." His words hung in the air, and he held his breath, waiting, afraid that his confession might have been the thing to push her away for good.
The raw vulnerability in his voice broke through the fog in her mind, and without thinking, she nodded quickly, the words tumbling from her lips before she could stop them.
"Yes! Yes, Spence, I feel the same way," she breathed, her voice shaky as she looked up at him, eyes wide with a mix of relief and disbelief. "I always have… I just… I convinced myself it was impossible. I never thought you could feel the same."
A soft laugh escaped him, his grin widening as he wet his lips with the tip of his tongue. "How could I not, Y/N?" he murmured, his voice low and sincere. "You’re everything to me. You’re the reason I started believing in soulmates… because I know I’ll never find anyone more perfectly made for me than you. You’re it. Always have been."
Y/N's heart skipped a beat at his words, her eyes welling up involuntarily. No one had ever spoken to her with such reverence, and in that moment, she realized she held him in the same regard. But where Spencer's words were so effortlessly beautiful, hers often fell short. So, instead of trying to find the right ones, she chose to show him just how deeply he mattered to her.
Within seconds, her lips were on his, her hands gently cradling his face as she pulled him closer. Spencer surrendered to the kiss, his hands sliding to her waist, mirroring her movements and pulling her in.
It started as a slow, hesitant kiss that rapidly devolved into something more desperate as the weight of years of silent longing melted away between them. What Y/N couldn't articulate into words she poured into touch, threading her trembling fingers into his soft hair and tugging, urging him to hover over her as she laid back against the couch. Her lips moved against his fiercely, trying to convey the silent message that she was just as in love with him as he was with her.
The movie had long since faded into the background, its faint dialogue and sporadic screams now an odd soundtrack blending with the muffled whimpers and soft pants that filled the space between them as their hands began to roam. Spencer's hips were nestled between hers, unmoving and stiff as he tried not to mindlessly hump against her like an animal in heat.
Y/N noticed Spencer's rigidness, breaking the kiss to look up at him with a furrowed brow. "What's wrong?" She breathed out, propping up on her elbows and brushing their noses together. "Are we moving too fast? We can stop if you want, I-I'm sorry—"
"No!" Spencer borderline shouted in his haste to ease the insecurity he saw creeping into her eyes, his face flushing as he cleared his throat. "No, no that's not it at all. I just, um... I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. I wasn't sure how far you wanted this to go."
Y/N’s shoulders relaxed, a small frown giving way to a playful smirk. She idly twisted the loose curls at the nape of his neck between her fingers, her gaze locking with his.
"I want you, Spence. All of you. If that's what you want, too."
Spencer's nod was immediate, his forehead almost knocking into hers, causing her to laugh at his eagerness. "God, yes. I want that, so much. I want you so much."
Y/N grinned as she tilted her head to brush their lips together, landing a chaste kiss on his mouth before she tugged him down, leaning forward to whisper into his ear. "Yeah? You wanna fuck me, Spence?"
He inhaled sharply through his nose, his eyes fluttering shut as his head fell into the crook of her neck. If he were younger, he probably would have just cum in his pants from her words alone. But he was a man now. A barely composed man who was dizzy from the intoxicating scent of her perfume crowding his nose and the most painful erection he's had since puberty straining against his slacks.
"Such a crude mouth you have," Spencer murmured in feigned disappointment, shaking his head before pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses to the skin of her neck. "Maybe I should fill it up until you learn some manners, hm?"
He traced the fingers of his right hand up her side as he pulled back enough to look into her eyes, his left hand pressed into the cushions to keep him from laying all his body weight onto her. He'd caught her lingering glances at his hands throughout the last few weeks. He just hadn't been sure why she'd been staring at them so hard... but now? Now, he knew exactly why she'd been so fixated on them, and he planned to use that to his advantage.
The whimper that slipped from Y/N's lips as Spencer slid two fingers into her gaping mouth confirmed his suspicions, the shit-eating grin on his face growing wide as he pressed the digits down against her tongue. She began to suck at his fingers eagerly, the feeling of her tongue laving over them making his body tremble in anticipation.
His hips began to rock against hers, slowly grinding against her aching core as he pressed kisses up and down the side of her neck. Once he was satisfied with his teasing, he pulled his fingers from her mouth with a slick 'pop', replacing them with his tongue as he kissed her deeply.
Y/N’s mind whirled, both surprised and intrigued by the sudden shift in his demeanor, captivated by how effortlessly he stepped into control. It wasn’t what she’d anticipated at all. She’d seen glimpses of this side of him—brief moments in the field or during interrogations—but never like this. The man before her was assured and confident, a stark contrast to his usual, endearing awkwardness.
Their kiss grew hungry as Spencer continued where they had left off before, his hands sliding under the hem of her shirt and bunching the fabric as they trailed up. He broke the kiss long enough to help her out of the shirt, tossing it somewhere in the direction of the TV before capturing her lips once more. He was a man ravenous, consumed by the sweetness of her lips, and even the seconds it took to remove her t-shirt felt like an unbearable eternity without them.
Her hands were just as busy as his, dragging down his clothed chest before finding the button of his slacks in the cramped space between them. Her fingers fumbled with the button blindly, and her movements faltered when his teeth gently tugged at her lower lip.
"Off," Y/N whined indignantly against his mouth, tugging frustratedly at the button. "Take them off."
Spencer obliged, helpless to her commands as he sat back on his heels, easily undoing the pesky button that was keeping her from what she wanted. She went to sit up to help with his zipper, but in her rush to get his pants off, she didn't realize just how close his knee was to the edge of the cushion.
The motion knocked his knee outwards, a surprised yelp leaving his lips as he instinctively reached out for her to steady himself, but it was too late.
A startled squeal slipped from Y/N as they both tumbled to the floor, landing with a muted thud on the plush carpet. Spencer’s hands shot to her waist, his eyes wide as he glanced up at her, now sprawled on top of him, her laughter filling the air at their unexpected fall. He joined her, chuckling loudly.
They were a perfect chaos—rumpled clothes, kiss-swollen lips, tangled hair, and eyes full of love. But neither of them minded, because they finally had what they’d both been yearning for all this time: each other.
The fall did little to curb their desire for each other. Y/N ducked her head, pressing her lips to Spencer's with renewed vigor as her hands slipped underneath his sweater. She giggled as he squirmed underneath her touch.
"You're such a wiggle worm!" Y/N huffed, pulling back just enough to let the words slip free into the air between them as she lifted the sweater up and over his head.
Spencer scoffed, his own hands slipping beneath the waistband of her yoga pants and shoving them down her legs. "I can't help that your hands feel like ice!"
A quiet hiss left her lips at the feeling of his equally cold hands brushing against the skin of her thighs. She wriggled on top of him, kicking off the remaining fabric that had wrapped around her feet.
"So do yours, but you don't see me acting like a baby about it!"
"Oh, I'll show you a baby—"
Y/N cackled as Spencer rolled them over, hovering above her once more with a cheeky grin and soft chuckles. He bombarded her with kisses all over her face and collarbones, ignoring her hands swatting at him playfully as he continued his attack. Soon his pants joined the growing pile of clothes near the entertainment center, the soft glow of the TV illuminating the room as the final scenes of the forgotten movie played out. His hands made swift work of removing her bra, leaving her lying underneath him in only her lacy underwear.
Their laughter died out as they stared into each other's eyes, the weight of what was about to change—what had already changed—settling over them. But fear didn’t touch them. There was no reason for it. This was always meant to be; written in the stars, woven into their destiny long before they existed.
Spencer closed the gap between them, kissing Y/N tenderly as he lowered himself just enough for their bare chests to press together and their hips to align perfectly. A sigh escaped her at the feeling of his hardened cock grinding against her, the thin fabric of his boxers and her soaked panties doing little to conceal what lay beneath.
Neither of them had ever pictured their first time unfolding on the living room floor, but in a way, it made the moment even more unforgettable. It was a testament to how desperately they wanted each other—so much that they’d choose the roughness of the carpet and rug burns over the luxury of her bed to avoid the few minutes apart it would take to get to her room.
"You're sure you want this?"
Spencer broke the kiss, his eyes tracing hers for any trace of hesitation or doubt. Y/N's lips curved into a faint smile as she reached up to caress his face. Her thumb stroked the skin of his cheekbone as she nodded.
"More than anything."
The look in her eyes told him that she was being completely honest. That was all the confirmation he needed. His shaky hands found the edges of the lace adorning her hips, inching his body down as he tugged the soaked-through fabric down her legs.
Y/N's face scrunched in confusion as Spencer moved lower, her brows furrowing as he pressed a kiss to her knee. "What are you-"
Her words cut off with a sharp moan as Spencer latched his mouth to her clit, her head tipping back against the floor as her hands buried themselves into his disheveled strands. Her back arched as her legs spread instinctively, making room for him as he began to devour her. He shifted, grabbing ahold of her thighs and placing them over his shoulders as his tongue alternated between teasing kitten licks and long, drawn-out laps up and down her pussy.
Y/N struggled to open her eyes, peering down at him as pleasure began to flood her veins. The sight of his hands—those beautiful goddamned hands that had inadvertently caused this to happen— gripping her thighs hard enough to leave bruises had her mouth hanging open, small whimpers and moans flowing freely into the open space.
"You taste exquisite, sweetheart. So, so good," Spencer mumbled against her slick skin before sucking her clit into his mouth gently.
Y/N cried out, writhing underneath him as the pleasure in her lower stomach began to build rapidly. A loud groan wrenched itself from her throat as Spencer grabbed her hips, pinning them to the ground as he continued to ravage her in a way that rendered her useless.
"You can take it, pretty girl," Spencer cooed, placing a kiss on her clit before one of his hands left her hip to trace her folds. "Cum for me so I can fuck you so good you'll never want anyone else again."
Who the fuck taught him how to talk like that?
Y/N couldn’t speak to tell him that she’d never want anyone else anyways; that he was etched into her very soul, and every part of her would forever long for his touch and his touch alone. She cried out as his middle finger prodded at her entrance before slipping inside, her orgasm so close she could almost taste it.
Spencer moaned against her from how little resistance her walls had against the intrusion, immediately adding his ring finger to the mix. He thrusted them into her hard, curling the lithe digits in search of that rough patch of skin that would give him what he wanted. It took all of three strokes before he found it, his mouth forming a smirk as she gripped his hair and yanked, grinding her hips up into his mouth as she thrashed beneath him.
"Spence! Fuck, I-I'm cumming—"
Y/N barely uttered the words before her climax seized her, her toes curling as her vision whitened and the world shattered around her. She could vaguely register Spencer's sweet voice coaxing her through it, his forehead now pressed to hers as his fingers continued to gently thrust into her through the aftershocks. Only when she was trembling and weakly shoving at his wrist did he finally stop his movements, his lips meeting hers in a series of soft kisses as her chest heaved beneath him.
"Yeah?" He murmured with a smug grin, pulling back to smooth her hair away from her damp face with his clean hand as she stared up at him in bewilderment.
Spencer Reid had just caused her to cum harder than she ever had in her life. Spencer—the same Spencer that was too shy to look her in the eyes for a solid month after first meeting her— just made her cum so hard she almost blacked out. She understood why he was a man of magic now... and it had nothing to do with the novelty tricks he was always showing off.
"Yeah," Y/N whispered in response, still reeling from her orgasm.
If that was the type of climax she could reach simply from his tongue and fingers, she was convinced that she'd never actually experienced one with anyone else.
"Do you want to stop there? Or do you want to keep going?"
Spencer's voice was soft as he stared at the gorgeous woman beneath him. He found it ironic that he was already kneeling between her thighs because that had now become his place of worship. His redemption came in the form of her essence, dripping from his fingers as they rested against her hip. He'd never need anything else as long as he had her.
"Keep going. I want to keep going," Y/N pleaded softly, her hands reaching for his boxers. "Just—c'mere. Wanna taste you before you fuck me brainless. Please?"
A pitiful whine left Spencer’s lips as he felt his composure crack slightly. He wasn’t prepared for her to practically beg to suck his cock. He found himself nodding mindlessly, his hands going to help her strip him of his boxers before he remembered the mess still clinging to his fingers.
“Clean these for me first, sweet girl. Then you can.”
Spencer brought his fingers up to her lips, watching in amazement as she obeyed without a fuss. She even went as far as moaning while she licked his fingers clean of her, holding his gaze while she did. Y/N knew what she did to him. She knew he was just as affected by her as she was him. And she reveled in it.
Once he deemed them clean enough, he pulled them from her mouth before ridding himself of the last shred of fabric between them. The second that Spencer was bare before her, she pounced. Her hands pushed at his chest, urging him to lie back as she crawled on top of him.
“You’re so pretty, Spence,” Y/N breathed dazedly, pecking his lips before trailing her kisses down his chest. “God… look at you.”
Spencer flushed bright red while she continued to murmur her praises as she gripped the base of him, his cock twitching in her hand.
He had never been particularly confident—growing up as a child prodigy in a Las Vegas public school had stripped him of any sense of self-worth before it had a chance to take root. Unlike Morgan, he didn’t have the muscles or the easy charm with women. He could count the number of sexual encounters he’d had on one hand. His dates rarely progressed beyond the first, driven away by his nervous rambling and the unpredictable demands of his job.
The only way Spencer even knew how to make Y/N feel so good was because he had studied every piece of material he could find on the intricacies of female anatomy and sexual pleasure on the off chance one of his dates would blossom into something more than an uncomfortable hook-up and dash situation. It also helped that he’d pined after her since he’d known her, that longing translating into a dire need to make her feel the best she ever had because that’s what she deserved. She deserved to feel pleasure in its purest form, to feel cherished and worshipped because that’s how precious she was to him.
And in this moment, as she gazed at him with the kind of reverence that made it seem as though he was the center of her universe, Spencer believed that maybe, just maybe, he deserved to feel that way too.
His fingers grasped helplessly at the carpet beneath him as her beautiful lips wrapped around the flushed head of his arousal, a muffled curse falling into the air as she swirled her tongue around him. Y/N smirked around her mouthful, her eyes glinting with amusement as she inhaled through her nose and pushed lower, taking him into the back of her throat. The gag that she emitted from the motion had his hips jerking up, a flurry of apologies spewing from his mouth.
Instead of responding verbally, she simply grabbed his hands and guided them to her hair, encouraging him to take hold and move her as he pleased. Once he threaded his hands through her hair, she continued. Her own hands planted firmly on his thighs as she began to bob her head around what she could fit, a soft hum vibrating around his length as her eyes fluttered shut.
Spencer was speechless— absolutely floored as he stared slack-jawed at the woman moaning around his cock like she was the one receiving pleasure from it. He gave an experimental tug of her hair, his head falling back with a thunk as she moaned louder and moved faster. It was as though she were unraveling his very soul with her tongue, hurtling him towards an orgasm he didn’t want to have just yet.
“Y-Y/N wait I— ngh!” Spencer groaned, his grip on her hair tightening unintentionally as he tried to pull her off of him. “I won’t be able to fuck you if you make me cum down your throat, pretty girl. P-please—“
Y/N whined in protest but finally eased herself off of his cock, a trail of spit bridging her lower lip to the head of him as she stared up at him with watery eyes and swollen lips.
Spencer felt delirious as he took in the sight. It was something he’d dreamed about (albeit guiltily) for years, and having the real thing in front of him was infinitely better than anything his subconscious had conjured up during those restless nights. She was a vision; a work of art that deserved to have a museum dedicated to her and her alone.
“Oh, don’t pout. Unless you don’t want to be fucked anymore?” Spencer chuckled breathlessly, arching a brow as she moved to straddle him. His hands found their way to her waist, a shudder running down his spine as she settled over him.
“If you won’t fuck me… I have a pretty nice dildo in my bedside drawer that should do the trick,” Y/N hummed coyly, dragging her heat across the length of him with a soft sigh.
Spencer’s eyes darkened at that, his grip on her hips tightening to put a halt to her subtle movements.
“Yeah? You think it’d make you feel better than I could?”
Y/N swallowed hard, the aching between her legs starting to override her logical thinking. She knew the answer he was looking for; the answer that would give her exactly what she wanted. But she decided to be a smartass instead.
“Maybe,” She answered with a shrug, nibbling at her lower lip as she tried to fight against his hold to get the friction she craved.
“Go get it then.”
Spencer leaned forward, his nose brushing hers as she sat in his lap, a challenge in his gaze. He knew she wouldn’t—she was getting restless, just like him. But if this was the game she wanted to play, he was determined to win.
Panic spread across Y/N’s face at the cold, indifferent look in his eyes. Her hands rested on his shoulders, her frown betraying the sinking realization of the hole she’d dug for herself. They were both ridiculously competitive, so why she’d started this—rather than just admitting how badly she wanted him buried inside her—was beyond her.
“I was kidding,” Y/N huffed, tilting forward in an attempt to capture his lips.
Spencer leaned back, keeping his lips just out of reach. He shook his head, smirking softly. “Nope. Either go get it, or say you’re sorry.”
Y/N hesitated, frowning as she weighed her options. She wanted him so badly it hurt. But pride was a hell of a thing. She knew he wouldn’t back down. Normally, she wouldn’t either. But his cock was pressed so deliciously against her clit that she decided it would be more than worth it to lose just this once.
“I’m sorry,” She mumbled, barely audible.
“What was that? I couldn’t hear you.”
Spencer’s taunting made her groan in frustration before she sighed and tried again.
“I said I’m sorry—“
He shifted them so that his back was against the couch, her knees on both sides of his hips digging into the carpet hard enough that he was certain it would sting once they started. He’d make sure to take care of her afterward, though. He gazed up at her with adoration, thoroughly enjoying how needy she'd become. Her breath hitched as he adjusted his hips, the head of his cock pressing against her entrance.
“One more time, hm?” Spencer coaxed, his hands now rubbing up and down her sides but still holding her tight enough that she couldn't rock against him. If he was honest, his resolve had crumbled as quickly as hers, but he couldn’t help from teasing her for just a little longer.
“I’m sorry!” Y/N cried out, her forehead pressing against his as she whimpered. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
Spencer finally pressed a kiss to her lips before pulling back, his lips brushing against hers as he crooned. “Good girl, baby. Thank you.”
Hearing the praise fall so easily from his mouth had Y/N canting her hips down eagerly, willing to do whatever he wanted just so she could hear his sweet words over and over again. Her determination didn’t waver, her hips pushing down insistently. Spencer’s hold on her waist faltered, and for a brief moment, gravity claimed its victory.
A startled gasp slipped from her lips as the tip of his cock pushed into her, followed by a guttural moan that had Spencer's ears ringing as he cursed loudly. She had been so used to his hold that she wasn't prepared to support herself, his hands having barely caught her from dropping completely. He immediately yanked her up, the cool air against his skin a shock after having felt her warmth for the first time.
“God—fuck!" Spencer groaned as his head tipped back against the couch cushions, straining against every instinct begging him to just drive into her and utilizing every muscle in his body to keep her suspended as she wriggled impatiently.
"Baby... how are you— how are you wanting to do this?” Spencer whispered, swallowing before he continued. “I’m pretty sure I have a condom in my wallet, but I… um. I’m clean...”
Their hearts pounded in their chests as his words lingered in the air, the only sounds in the room being the repeated menu options from the forgotten movie and the ragged rhythm of their breaths.
Y/N meweled, reaching down to realign him with her entrance. “I’m clean and on birth control… Can we...? Like this? Please—“
“Yes.”
Y/N chuckled at his blunt response, though she was just as desperate to feel him after having the faintest taste of what he felt inside her. Her lips found his for a chaste kiss before she finally began to lower herself onto his cock, this time without his resistance.
Her laughter died in her throat, morphing into a choked whimper from the stretch of him. Even with how aroused she was, trying to make him fit was a struggle. Spencer was easily the biggest out of anyone she’d ever been with— a feat she hadn't quite realized until she was pausing halfway down his cock with a stuttered moan, slowly circling her hips in an attempt to adjust to the sensation.
Spencer was convinced he'd somehow died and ascended to paradise as he gazed up at the angelic woman hovering above him, enthralled by watching her fight to take the full length of him into her depths. His hands massaged up and down her trembling thighs, hoping to help her relax enough to take the rest of him without it hurting. Hums of encouragement rumbled from his chest as he stared unblinking at her, the warm amber of his eyes almost consumed completely by his blown pupils. His thumb found her clit and rubbed small circles into it as her eyes fluttered closed and she inhaled sharply through her nose.
"That's it, sweet girl," He cooed, continuing his gentle ministrations as she whined from deep in her throat. "Just like that. You're taking me so well. My gorgeous girl."
There was a pleasant burn as Y/N gingerly lifted her hips, leaving only the head of him inside of her. The way her hardened nipples brushed against his bare chest had her shivering lightly, the touch sending small sparks of pleasure jolting through her. Soft whines spilled from her lips as Spencer moved his hands around to grip her ass, gently massaging the flesh as she raised up on her knees.
With a committed roll of her hips and a quiet grunt, Y/N finally took the rest of his length, their bodies now flush together as her head dropped into the crook of his neck. The whorish moan Spencer released into her ear as he bottomed out had her clenching around him, a dire need to cause more of those sinful noises prompting her hips to begin moving. The raw stinging against her knees as she began to ride him in earnest only spurred her on, her nails digging into his shoulders as her head lolled back.
"Spence—" Y/N whimpered, resting her forehead against his as she panted out his name again and again, chanting it as though it were a mantra.
Spencer shushed her, understanding exactly what she couldn't manage to vocalize. He nodded against her as their bodies moved in tandem. "I know, baby. I know. You feel divine. My sweet angel." He continued to murmur out his praises as his head rested back on the edge of the couch cushion, small fingerprint-shaped bruises marking her skin as he clung to her.
Her hips began to falter as exhaustion started to settle into her bones from the vigorous pace she'd set, her second orgasm brewing in the pit of her stomach as though it were a wicked thunderstorm in waiting, ready to roll in and wreak havoc on her entire body at any minute. The slick sounds of their bodies connecting over and over paired with the symphony of heady moans and whimpers spilling between them—it was all driving her closer and closer to ecstasy.
Spencer noticed the fumble in her movements, his brows pinched together as he fought to keep his own climax at bay so he could enjoy the sensation of being wrapped up in her walls for a while longer. But he couldn't let his pretty girl do all of the work, could he? That would be cruel.
He planted his feet into the ground, beginning to pound into her from below. A satisfied smirk adorned his face as Y/N cried out, her head falling into the crook of his neck once more as she began to babble incoherently against his skin. The pace he set was wild and unrestrained, the angle allowing him to drive into her g-spot repeatedly.
"Take it, take it, take it—" Spencer hissed through clenched teeth before he latched his mouth onto her right nipple, sucking at the bud and swirling his tongue around it.
Y/N threaded her fingers through his hair, hanging on tightly as Spencer ravaged her. Her mouth hung open as moan after moan wrenched itself from her core and embedded into his damp skin. The pleasure searing through her veins was consuming her, burning her from the inside out. She was so close—
The catalyst for her orgasm came in the form of Spencer's hands slipping down her ass and underneath her thighs so that the tips of his fingers were brushing against where they were connected with each thrust. All it took was that one simple touch for the tension in her body to snap, her teeth digging into his shoulder as she tried to muffle her screams while her walls pulsed around him violently. Her eyes squeezed shut as she wailed his name loudly, not caring if any of her neighbors heard them at this point. She wanted the world to know exactly who was making her feel this good.
Spencer toppled them over onto the ground as she came around him, pinning her to the carpet and rutting into her fervently. Something akin to a sob fell from his lips before he abruptly pulled out, jerking his cock in quick strokes before he was spurting his cum across her stomach and tits with a cry of her name.
He crumpled to the ground beside her, pulling her into his side before he slung an arm over his face. Their chests heaved as they came down from their highs, both of them completely spent after such depraved lovemaking. His free hand stroked up and down her slick skin as she rested her head on his chest, calming the tremors wracking her body as they caught their breath.
Once Spencer regained feeling in his legs, he scooped Y/N from the floor and into his arms, hauling her off toward her bathroom as giggles bubbled from her lips at his surprising show of strength. Y/N watched with pure fondness as he started the shower, her heart swelling as he glanced back at her with a tired grin. When the water was warm enough, he held her hand as he helped her step in, following behind her with a hand wrapped around her waist to hold her steady.
After a shower spent lost in love-struck gazes, soapy caresses, and slow, tender kisses against the tiles, they ended up wrapped in each other's arms in her bed. It was only midday, but it was Saturday—so why not indulge in a nap? They had more than earned it after their (failed) movie marathon.
"Y'know," Y/N started, her voice low as fatigue began to cloud her mind. "You really do have massive hands." She took his hand, which had been resting loosely between them, lifting it to align with hers for comparison. His hand was nearly twice the size of hers, and the sight made her smile with amusement.
Spencer snorted, his nose scrunching as he laughed quietly at her observation.
"Well, yeah... I am 6'1", sweetheart. It would be abnormal if I didn't have massive hands," He stated matter-of-factly. "Besides, you love them. Really love them," He added with a sleepy smirk.
Y/N's face burned as she rolled her eyes, playfully shoving him with a scoff. "Yeah, yeah. It isn't my fault you have hands that were crafted by Michelangelo himself," She murmured defensively.
Spencer pulled her closer, brushing a kiss against her forehead, then her nose, her cheeks, and finally, her lips.
"You know I'm just teasing you. Did you know that—"
As Spencer began to prattle on about the variations and degrees of hand kinks and fetishes, Y/N's mind drifted back to the picture that had unknowingly set everything in motion. She couldn’t help but thank that raised crack in the sidewalk for pushing her old-fashioned boyfriend (that still felt so surreal to say) to embrace modern technology—because without it, she might have spent even more time blind to the fact that she was utterly, hopelessly in love with the man lying before her.
And as they drifted off to sleep in each other’s arms, Spencer felt a deep sense of gratitude for finally being able to love the beautiful woman in his arms the way he’d always dreamed of.
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Continued A/N's: I felt evil for my first (published) fic being so angsty so I decided to write this as a formal apology LMAO. I had so much fun writing this, and I hope you have just as much fun reading it. Please tell me what you think and let me know if you'd like to see a sequel for this as well! :) K <3
729 notes · View notes
monzabee · 2 days ago
Text
short n' sweet (social media au) - op81
masterlist ||
Summary: The one where in an attempt to figure out who Y/N is dating, the internet come up with theories only to realise she is dating none other than Oscar Piastri and chaos ensues.
Pairing: oscar piastri x pop star!reader (model used: sabrina carpenter) (and domingooo)
Warnings: cursing (i think), sabrina carpenter is horny but it's okay we ride with it, feat the internet being the internet, i have a big fat crush on mercello hernandez so you have been warned
Auhtor note: came all this way, had to explain, direct from @percervall; mar this one is for you, i haven't had this much fun in a long time so thank you for indulging my brainrot and excitement😭🫶
Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.
yourusername
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Liked by elleusa, taylorswift, gracieabrams and 3,255,376 others
yourusername: toto, i have a feeling we're not in kansas anymore. short'n sweet cumming to a city near you! first stop: columbus, ohio
user: bro just give me ONE chance
user: SHE'S GORGEOUS ❤️❤️❤️❤️
user: te amo diva
user: don't know if i wanna be with her or i wanna be her
view all 5,594 comments.
user: see you tomorrow pookie
user: cant wait to see u 🫶🏼✨🤍
user: she’s the sweetest & shortest 💋
user: it’s Y/N's world and we’re just living in it😭🤍🤍💋💋💋
user: is he talking about TOTO FUCKING WOLFF??
user: why is f1 everywhere, no she isn't😭
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tiktokuser1
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caption: bed chem from opening night!!
user: that mic is ON! ✨
user: I LOVE THIS DIVA!!
user: watching this isn’t enough, I have to be there
user: I need that bed.. NEOWWW
user: SHE BETTER BRING THE DAMN TOUR TO AUSTRALIA CAUSE THE FOMO IS CRAZY
user: oh i think she'll be bringing the tour to australia alright
user: what does that mean??
user: what do you know!!
tiktokuser2
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caption: YO I DON'T KNOW WHAT IS HAPPENING BUT SHORT N' SWEET TOUR IS THAT GIRL!!
user: 'have you ever tried this one?' ugh her mind😭
user: IS THIS THE NEW NONESENSE OUTRO FOR THIS TOUR I NEED TO KNOW
user: i can't take my eyes off this, i've been staring at it for the past five minutes!
user: okay diva we see you👀
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yourusername
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Liked by madisonbeer, oscarpiastri, haileybieber and 4,182,928 others
yourusername: hello l.a., are you ready to wrap it up?
user: OSCAR JACK PIASTRI WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?
user: okay who is he and why is he lurking in my diva's likes?
user: MY QUEEN (me typing this while listening to espresso 👀)
user: just a girl living life and making everyone fall in love with her
user: i’m 26 and AFRAID of Y/N Y/LN
view all 7,011 comments.
user: the caption and the last pic with the kittens the vibes don't match i love you😭
yourusername: stoppp, i diee
user: how is this tour like halfway over ????? second leg of tour maybe???? 😭
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tiktokuser3
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caption: have you ever tried this one?
user: i don't know how she keeps coming up with these
user: imagine having this much freak, i wouldn't be able to leave my house
user: am i the only one who is excited for the last three shows in la??
user: her boyfriend is one lucky guy that's for sure
user: she has a boyfriend??
user: girl who do you think the guy in the white jacket and the thick accent is?
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tiktokuser4
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caption: omg guys😭😭 domingo is here😭😭
user: CAME ALLL THIS WAAY HAD TO EXPLAAAIN
user: deerect from domingoo
user: okay hear me out... mercello and Y/N??
user: noooo, this crossover is actually too insane i can't handle it
user: look at how he's looking at her bro's down bad😭
tiktokuser5
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caption: WE'VE LOST HER TO DOMINGO GUYS
user: somebody call kyle and tell him the good news😭
user: who's kyle?
user: omg do you live under a rock or something?
user: am i the only one who thinks they are not dating?
yourusername
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Liked by tiktok, oscarpiastri, marcellohdz and 3,669,817 others
yourusername: LA night 2 ♥️💋 second locationnnn maybe he’s biiii!!! see you tonight for our last show of the US leg :’) how the hell
user: God bless your Dad’s genetics, Domingo
user: OMG DOMINGOOO… “NOW SHES WITH A HOT GUY BUT HE LOOKS GAY, HEARD HIS NAMES DOMINGO”
user: DOMINGO IS CHEATING ON KELSEY
user: no hate to domingo, but oscar jack piastri liked this post under 1 minute😭😭
user: i think we've established that she is probably dating marcello, please stop with the delulu
user: Y/N IM HERE👹
view all 5,179 comments.
user: marcelo hernandez had the opportunity to do the funniest thing ever… and he did
user: the budget for this tour is insane… feels like a literal broadway production
user: came all this way, let her explain deeerect from LA
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yourusername
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Liked by oscarpiastri, madisonbeer, marcellohdz and 4,928,234 others
yourusername: date night but make it our way tagged: oscarpiastri
user: i'm sorrryyyy, but the dress is giving andie andersonn
yourusername: princess sophia is having some fun tonightt
user: this is still the most mind boggling couple ever BUT YOU LOOK GOOD THO
user: i'm so normal about this, i am sooooo normal about this
user: it's giving ross from friends and i am here for it
user: the best hard launch in the history of hard launches
oscarpiastri: great show, even better after party
yourusername: why did i know you were going to comment this
oscarpiastri: i'm literally sitting right next to you and you saw me type it
user: unhinged gf x calm bf duo is superior and this is the biggest proof ever
view all 6,728 comments.
marcellohdz: but what about domingo...
yourusername: i'm sorry domingo...
user: but is mark webber still alive, MARK ARE YOU THERE
oscarpiastri
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Liked by yourusername, landonorris, mclaren and 928,256 others
oscarpiastri: came all this way, had to explain... tagged: yourusername
yourusername: 100% recommend, 5-star service
oscarpiastri: 😐
yourusername: 🥰
user: mister oscar jack piastri god bless your dad's genetics indeed
user: world class driving, world class relationship reveal
landonorris: okay but do we get free concert tickets ooor?
oscarpiastri: 😐
yourusername: of course!
user: this is actually so cute i'm going to throw up
view all 3,156 comments.
user: have you ever tried this one just took a whole other meaning
user: wait, are we going to see them together in las vegas??
user: the hard launching is insaneee
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634 notes · View notes
thewispsings · 6 hours ago
Text
crying in the club | mv1
pairing: max verstappen x norris!reader
summary: how should one react when their boyfriend wins the world championship at the same time their brother loses it?
max my four time world champion!!!
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liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1, and 481,017 others!
yourusername: the sun will shine on you soon baby brother!! this season was tough but you got through it ♡♡ i love you forever (world champions are overrated anyways 😉)
view comments below!
user1: you are the strongest soldier here
user2: you are the reason i survived this season
user2: everytime i wanted to throw up, i thought about how you were doing, and thought you must’ve been doing much worse, thank you!
user3: youre finally free from all this ‘champion battle’ talk 🍾
user4: you running back in forth from redbull to mclaren made my night
user5: it’s even funnier how her body language would change, in the mclaren garage she would be all gloomy but once she ran back to redbull it was arms up partying
lewishamilton: i wouldn’t say alll world championships are overrated
yourusername: shut up lewis hamilton 7x world champion, arguably the best f1 driver in existence, kind, humble, handsome and—would you like do go on a date with me?
maxverstappen1: excuse me?
yourusername: i don’t know what happened max, i was i insulting him and next thing i knew i wanted him on my lap
lewishamilton: i feel…odd
yourusername: good odd or bad odd
lewishamilton: i can’t tell…
yourusername: come over to the redbull garage to find out 😼
landonorris: genuinely, what the fuck is going on?
maxverstappen1: i don’t know, so i’ve decided to ignore it
landonorris: ignoring what ever that was, thank you 🧡
yourusername: say it
landonorris: say what
yourusername: say ‘i love you’ you emotionally stunted gremlin
landonorris: i don’t…
yourusername: say it lando
maxverstappen1: yeah cmon lando, say it
landonorris: too like both of you or?..
maxverstappen1: yes, tell your brother in law that you love him
landonorris: okay first, you’re not my brother in law, second, i don’t feel very comfortable right now
yourusername: say it with me lando, “i loveee youuu”
landonorris: guys…
yourusername: SAY IT
maxverstappen: CMON LANDO SAY IT
yourusername: SAY IT
yourusername: SAY IT
landonorris: OK I LOVE YOU GUYS
user6: is this the peer pressure my school always warned me about?
user7: no…that was just, sad.
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liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri, and 761,018 others!
yourusername: THATS MY FOUR TIME WORLD CHAMPION!!! THIS IS FOR ALL THE BUMS WHO SAID HE WAS NOTHING BUT A PRETTY MAN IN A FAST CAR, NOW WHAT????? NOBODY COMPARES TO MAX FUCKING VERSTAPPEN. AND YOU ALL BETTER REMEMBER THAT.
view comments below!
user8: now it’s time to hit the club
yourusername: i’ll be crying in the club, thank you very much
user9: crying for lando, partying for max, it’s perfect
user10: you are the perfect amount of supportive to both lando and max
maxverstappen1: ik houd van je 💙
yourusername: @/landonorris
landonorris: i don’t speak dutch??
yourusername: he just told me he loved me loser
landonorris: o-kay?
yourusername: gosh you are so emotionally unintelligent, it makes me sick
landonorris: i just lost the world championship please be kind to me
yourusername: im your sister which basically means i lost the championship too, yet i still tell you i love you?
landonorris: THATS NOT HOW THAT WORKS
yourusername: I LOVE YOU LANDO
landonorris: LEAVE ME ALONE
maxverstappen1: we should get married in vegas
yourusername: oh my god, yes. but no elvis because he freaks me out
maxverstappen1: CHARLES SHOULD MARRY US
charles_leclerc: guys…i would be honored
yourusername: i don’t know max, i have a feeling you’ll run away with him and leave me at the alter
maxverstappen1: yeah…that probably will happen 😔, it’s okay, lando can marry us!!!
landonorris: what the fuck is today
446 notes · View notes
littlelamy · 1 day ago
Text
Teach Me
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nerd!rafe x experienced!reader
Rafe Cameron wasn’t usually this quiet.
He wasn’t the loudest guy by any means, but his nervous energy tonight was new. Usually, his shyness came with a sort of clumsy charm, a stammered compliment or a soft laugh that always made your heart ache in the best way. But as he sat stiffly on the edge of your bed, fiddling with the hem of his hoodie, he looked like he might bolt at any moment.
“Rafey,” you said softly, stepping closer and leaning into his line of sight. “You okay?”
His head snapped up, blue eyes wide behind the smudge on his glasses. He pushed them up his nose, his hand shaking slightly, and dropped his gaze back to his lap. His long fingers twisted together, pale from how tightly he was holding them.
“Y-yeah,” he mumbled, though his voice betrayed him with its unsteady wobble.
Your lips curved into a soft smile as you reached out, fingertips brushing his jawline. “You know I can tell when you’re lying, right?”
Rafe swallowed hard, his adam’s apple bobbing, but didn’t meet your gaze. “I just… I want to talk to you about something.”
“Okay.” You perched beside him on the bed, close enough that your knees bumped. “I’m listening.”
His lips parted, then closed again, as though the words were stuck in his throat. Finally, he managed, “I want to… I mean, I need to… be better for you. Better at, um, pleasing you.”
Your chest tightened at his vulnerable confession. “Rafe, you’re already amazing. You don’t have to—”
“No.” His voice came out firm, but he winced at his own abruptness. “I mean, thank you. But I want to do more for you. I want to know how to… touch you the way you deserve.”
The raw sincerity in his words made your heart swell. His cheeks were stained with a deep blush, and he looked like he was fighting every instinct to hide his face in his hands.
“You’re so sweet,” you whispered, lacing your fingers through his and giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “We can take our time, baby. I’ll show you everything you want to know.”
Rafe relaxed slightly as you guided him to sit cross-legged on the bed. His hoodie lay discarded nearby, and his glasses perched crookedly on his nose, slightly fogged from the heat in the room.
“First thing,” you said, settling in front of him, “is to pay attention. My body will tell you when something feels good—whether it’s my breathing, the way I move, or the sounds I make.”
His eyes widened, and he nodded quickly, his gaze flickering nervously between your face and your body.
“Okay,” he whispered. “I can do that.”
You reached for his hand, gently placing it on your thigh. “Start here. Gentle touches, nothing rushed. Feel how warm my skin is? That’s a good sign.”
Rafe’s fingers were warm and hesitant, but they began to explore as you encouraged him. He let his hand glide up slowly, his breath hitching when his fingertips grazed the hem of your shorts.
“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice low and strained.
You smiled, running a hand through his messy hair. “That’s perfect.”
As his touch grew more assured, his fingers dipped under the fabric, skimming the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. The softness of his movements contrasted with the heat pooling in your stomach, and a quiet sigh escaped your lips.
“Like that?” he asked, his brows furrowing slightly as he searched your face for affirmation.
“Exactly like that,” you murmured, your voice catching.
You shifted back against the pillows, tugging him down beside you. “Now, from here, you can explore more. Don’t overthink it. Use your hands, your mouth—just do what feels natural.”
Rafe’s blush deepened, but he nodded. His hand skimmed up your stomach, pausing when he reached the curve of your hip. His fingers trembled slightly, but the reverence in his touch sent a shiver through you.
When his lips brushed your collarbone, warm and tentative, you let out a soft moan. His head snapped up, panic flashing in his eyes.
“Was that too much?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
You cupped his cheek, pulling him back down for a kiss. “Not at all. That was perfect. Keep going, Rafey.”
Encouraged, he pressed his lips to your skin again, lingering this time. His kisses grew bolder, trailing down to the swell of your chest. His hands followed, brushing over you with featherlight touches that left your skin tingling.
“See how my body reacts?” you whispered, your breath hitching as his hand grazed a particularly sensitive spot. “That’s what I mean by listening.”
Rafe’s lips quirked into a shy smile, and he leaned into your touch with newfound confidence.
Rafe’s hand hesitated at the waistband of your panties, his fingertips brushing the soft fabric with a touch so light it sent a shiver up your spine. His wide blue eyes searched yours, filled with nervous anticipation, his lips slightly parted as though he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to take the next step.
“Can I?” His voice was barely above a whisper, trembling but threaded with yearning.
“Yes,” you breathed, your voice soft but certain.
His exhale was shaky as he focused his attention fully on you, his hand dipping beneath the fabric with deliberate slowness. The first brush of his fingers against your bare skin sent a jolt of electricity through your body, your breath catching audibly. His touch was tentative, his movements almost reverent, as though he couldn’t believe you were letting him do this.
“Rafey,” you murmured, your voice a mix of encouragement and need.
His fingers explored with unsteady care, tracing the slickness pooling there. His thumb brushed experimentally against your clit, and your body responded instantly, arching slightly under his touch. The sensation was almost too much yet not nearly enough, a delicious pressure that made you gasp softly.
“Is that good?” he asked, his brows furrowing in concentration as he watched your reaction.
“So good,” you managed, your voice a little breathless. “Keep going, just like that.”
The reassurance made his shoulders relax, and his movements grew bolder. His thumb pressed more firmly, circling that swollen bundle of nerves with a rhythm that made your thighs clench instinctively around his hand. The quiet whimper that slipped from your lips seemed to spur him on, his other hand coming to rest on your hip to steady you as his fingers moved with growing confidence.
Your body was alive under his touch, every nerve alight as he adjusted his movements, clearly paying attention to how you squirmed and sighed beneath him. The hesitancy from earlier was melting away, replaced by a kind of focused eagerness that made your chest tighten with affection.
“That feels good,” you whispered, threading your fingers through his messy hair. “You’re doing so good, Rafe.”
His lips curved into the smallest, shyest smile, but his fingers didn’t falter. He leaned down then, pressing warm, open-mouthed kisses to the sensitive skin of your neck, trailing lower with every press of his lips. His hair tickled against your skin, the sensation adding to the whirlwind of pleasure building inside you.
When his kisses reached the hollow of your throat, you tilted your head back, giving him better access. He took it eagerly, his tongue darting out to taste your skin. The combination of his mouth and his hand working together was intoxicating, a steady rhythm that had you biting your lip to stifle the moans threatening to spill out.
“You like that?” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and velvety. The rare confidence in his tone sent a fresh wave of heat through you, and you couldn’t help but nod, your fingers gripping his hair tighter.
“I love it,” you whispered, your voice trembling with pure pleasure.
His movements stilled for a moment as he shifted, his glasses slightly askew as he glanced up at you. “I… Can I try something else?” he asked, his voice softer now, more uncertain.
“Yes,” you answered without hesitation, your heart racing as his hands gently eased your panties down your legs.
Rafe paused, his breath catching as he took in the sight of you fully. His cheeks flushed a deep pink, but his gaze was captivated, reverent. Slowly, he settled himself lower, his shoulders nestled between your thighs.
“You don’t have to—” you started, but the determined look in his eyes stopped you.
“I want to,” he said, his voice quiet but firm.
The first press of his lips to your inner thigh was soft, almost hesitant. He lingered there, kissing a trail upward, his breath warm against your skin. Each kiss was tender, deliberate, until he was just where you wanted him most.
His lips brushed against you then, soft and unhurried, and the sensation sent a gasp tumbling from your lips. He hesitated, his blue eyes flicking up to yours for reassurance, and when he saw the way your chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, he pressed another kiss, firmer this time.
The wet warmth of his mouth and the softness of his tongue as he tentatively explored made your entire body tense with pleasure. He was careful, almost shy, but each touch carried a sincerity that left you breathless.
“Rafey,” you whimpered, your voice trembling with need.
The sound of his name on your lips seemed to embolden him. His hands gripped your thighs gently, pulling you closer as he deepened his movements, his tongue finding the rhythm that made you gasp and arch beneath him. Every flick, every press, was deliberate, his sole focus on making you fall apart under his care.
“Is this… okay?” he murmured between kisses, his breath hot against you.
“Perfect,” you managed, your voice breaking on the word. “Don’t stop.”
And he didn’t.
Rafe’s mouth was insistent now, his shyness giving way to a careful confidence as he listened to every sound you made, adjusting his movements to match the reactions he drew from you. Your hands found his hair, tugging gently as you lost yourself in the overwhelming sensations he was giving you.
Every kiss, every caress, was a revelation—an unspoken promise that he was there to learn every inch of you, to cherish you completely. The pleasure built steadily, an intoxicating crescendo that left you breathless, your thighs trembling as he found just the right rhythm with his mouth. His lips latched around that sensitive bundle of nerves, sucking softly at first, then with increasing determination as your whimpers turned into desperate cries of his name.
“Rafey,” you gasped, your fingers tangling in his hair as your hips pressed up against him, unable to control the way your body chased the peak he was bringing you toward.
His hands gripped your thighs firmly but gently, holding you in place as he gave it one last, deliberate suck. The sensation sent you spiraling, your body arching as the climax washed over you in waves, leaving you shaking and completely at his mercy. Your breath hitched, the room filled with the sound of your soft cries and his satisfied hum against you.
When the intensity finally began to drop, Rafe eased his touch, his mouth leaving a final tender kiss against your skin before he pulled away. His lips were parted, his breathing ragged, and his face was flushed with both pride and nervousness. His lips and chin glistened, a mix of his efforts and your release, and the sight alone sent another shiver through you.
He climbed back up the bed, his gaze locked on yours as if silently asking for reassurance. Leaning over you, his hands braced on either side of your head, he pressed his lips to yours in a tentative kiss. The taste of yourself lingered on his lips, and the sound he made—low, guttural, and almost shy—vibrated against your mouth.
“Did I… Was that okay?” he asked softly, his voice trembling with vulnerability. His blue eyes searched yours, his glasses slightly askew, and his lips glistening as he hovered just inches from you.
Your heart swelled at the nervousness in his voice, and instead of answering right away, you pulled him into another kiss. This time, it was deep, lingering, your fingers threading through his hair to pull him even closer. When you finally broke away, his lips were even more swollen, and his breath mingled with yours.
“You did amazing, sweetie,” you whispered, your voice full of affection and awe.
The words flooded him with relief, his shoulders relaxing as a shy yet proud smile tugged at the corners of his damp lips. Unable to resist, you reached up to wipe your arousal from his chin, your thumb grazing his flushed skin before leaning in to kiss him again.
Rafe melted into you, his earlier hesitation completely gone, replaced by a quiet confidence that had your heart racing all over again. And as he buried his face in your neck, his breath warm and shaky against your skin, you knew this was just the beginning of something even more beautiful between you.
a/n: last post of the day🥵
taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @aariahnaa @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog
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dissapointu · 3 days ago
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Thinking about Arcane with a partner who is terminally ill and has to stay in bed hooked up to a bunch of needles and tubes
Thank you for all your work you are amazing <3
Thank you so much for your kind words!
I swear we are allergic to happiness-
Jinx
Jinx hides her pain behind manic energy, trying to make you smile even when it feels like her heart is shattering. She brings you handmade gadgets, some of which are purely for fun—tiny robots that dance or explode into colorful sparks, filling the room with chaos and laughter. But when the exhaustion hits, she curls up beside your bed, her fingers tracing the tubes and needles with a quiet reverence. In those moments, her vulnerability surfaces, and she whispers about her fears of losing you.
Vi
Vi hates feeling powerless, and seeing you like this is her worst nightmare. She refuses to leave your side, bringing you books and stories of her past to keep your mind off the pain. Her hands are always gentle when adjusting your blanket or holding yours, but her emotions often spill over. When no one else is around, she breaks down, pressing her forehead against your arm, her tears soaking into the fabric as she begs you to hold on just a little longer.
Sevika
Sevika is practical, channeling her pain into action. She spends hours ensuring you’re as comfortable as possible, fixing equipment when it malfunctions and running errands for anything you need. At night, when she thinks you’re asleep, she sits by your bed, nursing a drink and talking to you like everything’s normal—about work, about Zaun, about how much she admires your strength. If you catch her in a rare moment of vulnerability, she’ll brush it off, saying, “You’re the tough one here, not me.”
Silco
Silco is a man of control, and your condition reminds him of his helplessness. He spares no expense in seeking the best care for you, but he’s always haunted by the sight of you so frail. His visits are quiet but full of unspoken devotion—he reads reports aloud, his voice calm and steady, though his eyes flicker to your face more often than the papers. Late at night, when no one else is around, he gently brushes your hair back and murmurs promises he knows he might not be able to keep.
Vander
Vander is a steady presence, his warmth grounding you even in your worst moments. He sits by your bed, holding your hand as he tells you stories from his youth or hums a soothing tune. He often brings the children by to cheer you up, their laughter filling the room. Vander tries to stay strong for you, but his hands tremble when he thinks you’re not looking. His love is unwavering, and he’ll remind you every day how much you mean to him.
Ekko
Ekko struggles with the weight of seeing you like this, but he refuses to let despair take over. He spends his time crafting small inventions to make your life easier or bring a smile to your face. When the silence becomes too much, he talks about his dreams for the future, painting vivid pictures of what could be. He clings to hope, even when it feels fragile, and does everything in his power to make sure you know you’re not alone.
Jayce
Jayce throws himself into researching treatments, convinced he can find a way to help you. When he’s not in the lab, he’s by your side, his hand resting over yours as he explains his latest breakthroughs or reminisces about the moments you’ve shared. He hides his fear behind his optimism, but when you tell him it’s okay to let go of the facade, he breaks down, resting his head on your shoulder and letting his tears fall freely.
Viktor
Viktor is no stranger to pain and illness, and he understands your struggles on a deeply personal level. He spends hours at your bedside, quietly tinkering with gadgets or reading aloud from books he thinks you’ll enjoy. His touch is gentle, his words soft, and his presence unwavering. He hates that he can’t fix this, but he makes sure you never feel alone, offering comfort in the form of quiet companionship and shared understanding.
Caitlyn
Caitlyn is your pillar of strength, calm and composed even when her heart is breaking. She works tirelessly to ensure you have the best care, pulling strings and calling in favors to get you what you need. She’s a constant presence, her hand often resting on yours as she talks about the world outside. When she’s overwhelmed, she steps outside for a moment to compose herself, returning with a renewed determination to make the time you have left as meaningful as possible.
Mel Medarda
Mel is a force of grace and composure, but your condition shakes her to her core. She fills your room with beauty—art, flowers, and soft fabrics��to make your space a sanctuary. She sits with you for hours, her voice soothing as she shares stories from her childhood or discusses philosophy and politics. Her mask only slips in the quiet moments, her hand lingering on yours as she murmurs about how much she loves you, her eyes shining with unshed tears.
Ambessa Medarda
Ambessa is not one to show weakness, but your illness makes her feel a vulnerability she hasn’t known in years. She takes charge of your care, ensuring you’re surrounded by the best physicians and resources. Though her visits are often brief, they’re filled with quiet intensity. She sits by your bed, her large hand covering yours as she promises to protect you, her voice steady even as her heart aches.
Maddie Nolen
Maddie is practical and nurturing, spending her days by your side to ensure you’re comfortable and cared for. She’s always quick with a joke or a story to lift your spirits, her warmth a balm against the cold reality of your condition. But when the laughter fades and the room grows quiet, she leans her head against your shoulder, her voice soft as she tells you how much you mean to her, her heart aching with every word.
Lest
Lest hates seeing you like this, but she channels her emotions into quiet devotion. She watches over you like a guardian, her sharp eyes scanning every tube and needle to ensure everything is in order. She often sits beside your bed, her tail curling around her legs as she talks about the world outside, filling the silence with her soothing voice. When you catch her staring at you with a mix of love and sorrow, she quickly looks away, her ears twitching, but her hand remains firmly in yours.
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ink-and-dagger · 2 days ago
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What if Astrid find a pic of young Silco by accident hehhehehehhehehehehhe
Snapshot
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A Drink With Me ficlet
870 words || Established relationship || Silco x Astrid (but can be read as gen f!reader) || SFW but suggestive || MDNI
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“Oh my Gods.”
“What?”
“Oh. My Gods.”
Time has stripped the photograph between your fingers of its glossy sheen and has left the edges blunt and frayed, but you would recognise those features anywhere; no less sharp nor striking through the faded sepia.
“This is you.”
It had slipped from between two ledgers as you’d perused Silco’s bookshelves – an activity more to entertain your idle hands than a genuine search for reading material. The image itself is simple and candid: A young man, seemingly oblivious to the fact his portrait is being taken, sat at a familiar bar, with eyes downcast toward a spread of papers.
That same man looks up at you now from a very similar spread of papers. “What is?”
“This.” You drift over to his desk and perch on its edge, all the while unable to tear your gaze from the photo in your hands. The pitch dark hair swept back into a low bun. The familiar strays – the same ones that even now will always be the first to escape any styling under the combing of agitated fingers – falling forward into his face, only far longer and thicker than you’re used to. His skin, unblemished and smooth, save for the chronic furrow between his brows – etched there long before time and tragedy ravaged the rest.
Silco hums absently; an indication that he acknowledges your discovery but finds little interest in it. You can imagine the man in the photograph making the exact same noise, were someone to distract him from his paperwork for a reason he deemed benign. You flip the photo over. No date.
“How old are you here?”
Silco exhales through his nose, places his pen down with a pointed clack, and extends his hand wordlessly toward you.
“Hah! Do you think I’m wet behind the ears?” you hold the photograph out of his reach, “You can tell just fine from over there thank you very much.”
He cuts you a scathing glance, before leaning forward in his chair with a foreboding creak to peer more closely at the image. His scarred lips purse slightly in thought.
“Mid–late twenties. I can’t say for certain.”
“You were hot.”
“Were?”
“Were and are,” you coo, reclining backwards over the desk into his space, one elbow pitched on his paperwork to hold your weight whilst you flap the photograph in front of his face, “Can I keep this?”
“For what reason?”
“Dirty ones.”
“Hardly necessary,” Silco says, the very corner of his mouth creasing upwards as he catches your wrist to halt your photo-flapping, “You have access to the real thing.”
“True, true, and you can be sure I’ll continue taking advantage of that.” You grin, shoving your captured, photo-wielding arm a little closer to him in emphasis, “But right now I’m talking about some alone time with this guy.”
Silco scoffs under his breath and releases your wrist. You twist onto your front, weight propped on both elbows as you admire the photograph in your grip. You trace a finger down the slender throat of the man in the photo, over the generous wedge of chest exposed by his open crimson collar.
“D’you think he’d notice me? If I came into that bar?”
“Oh I’m certain he would.”
“Yeah?” You lift your gaze from the man in the photo to the one before you – as equally breathtaking. More so. You catch your lower lip between your teeth. “What line would he use?”
Silco hums, low and thoughtful, leaning forward in his chair, closing in on your space. He picks up his abandoned pen, briefly twirling the implement until it’s poised between his elegant fingers like a cigarette. Nib safely facing his own palm.
“After downing the dregs of his drink for courage... he would have approached you.”
With sensual tenderness, he brushes the barrel of his pen along your cheek, warmed metal against warmer skin. Catching at the curve of your jawline, and tracing over your pulse in a way that makes it fumble a beat.
“Cast his gaze over each of your pretty, pretty features. One by one,” he murmurs, slowly drawing the end of the pen down your jugular, down the slope of your collar bone, to leisurely trail through the cut of your cleavage. The corner of your mouth hooks up. The warmth low in your belly coils a little tighter.
“He would have leaned in close,” Silco whispers, demonstrating just so, “Close enough that you’d almost taste the whiskey on his breath.”
Blunt metal drags a purposeful line up your throat, and your lips part softly as he tilts your face toward his with the barrel of his pen flat and firm beneath your chin.
“And asked you – very nicely – to stop leaning on his paperwork.”
You press your tongue against the inside of your cheek while Silco’s dual eyes sizzle with smug mirth. It’d be unthinkable, really – to forfeit either one for the sake of a matching pair.
You straighten and push off his desk, hips swaying as you saunter over to the bedroom with the photograph in hand.
“Well,” you say, pausing in the threshold and turning to him with a smirk, “If you need us, you know where we’ll be.”
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usuallydyinginside · 2 days ago
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"No One Mourns the Wicked" is about Glinda, not Elphaba
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Okay, but hear me out. Wicked songs are so good at saying one thing and meaning something entirely different once you have more context. For instance, "I'm Not That Girl" is Elphaba singing about Glinda initially, then in Act 2 flips to Glinda singing about Elphaba. Because it turns out, Elphaba IS that girl and Glinda is not. When we meet the Wizard, he sings about how he always wanted to be a father. When you get to Act 2, you get the sad little reprise in the background music as he realizes that WHOOPS, he was one and he destroyed his only kid. "Defying Gravity" starts with "I hope you're happy" in the sarcastic sense and ends with them both using the same phrase to genuinely wish one another well.
"Thank Goodness" is set up as a cheerful engagement song where Glinda genuinely means "thank goodness for how great my life is" and ends in a place where she's insisting that she IS happy even as she realizes her engagement is a sham, her best friend is gone, and she's left with the Wizard and Madame M, who she doesn't even like.
You get the picture.
Basically, the whole musical is about subverting what you expect, starting with the base premise of "what if the Wicked Witch was the hero of the story" and digging in from there.
Honestly, I'd never paid much attention to the first song. It's a good opener, sets things up well, but it has some big competition with later songs. However, in the movie the staging and camera choices made me really notice it for the first time. Because you know what? Someone DID pay attention to that song, and you can really really tell.
For those who need a refresher, the lyrics to the chorus Glinda sings are: And Goodness knows The Wicked's lives are lonely Goodness knows The Wicked die alone It just shows when you're Wicked You're left only On your own I was always so busy noticing Glinda's grief over thinking Elphaba was genuinely dead that I failed to notice Glinda's grief over her OWN fate. The movie did such a good job with this because every time we get to the pink lines about being alone, Glinda IS alone. She is standing apart from the crowd who adores her. Standing above them. Standing at the center of a bunch of people yet still, isolated.
Because in the end, we know that Elphaba DIDN'T die alone. We know she wasn't on her own. We know her life WASN'T lonely ultimately. She had her flying monkey and animal friends. She had Fiyero.
And who does Glinda have?
Everyone, but realistically, no one. She is an ideal, not a person to most of Oz, just as much as Elphaba has become the token scapegoat. Where Elphaba is the "Wicked Witch," Glinda is "Glinda the Good Witch" - she is literally supposed to be the embodiment of goodness.
And what does Glinda have at the end of this whole thing (as of this song at least)? A disastrous end to her engagement, the death of her best friend, a sorceress who has hated her, demeaned her, and dismissed her from the start, and a con man who is also just a symbol more than a person.
I think it really hit me when Glinda throws the fire on the giant effigy of Elphaba. Ariana's acting was SO good there, because I'd expected us to see that private moment of horror or regret. What I didn't expect was the sort of determined and almost angry glare at the effigy.
But it makes sense. At this point, Glinda has realized that she lost everything and everyone she actually cared about.
As she so aptly puts it in "Thank Goodness"...
Though it is, I admit The tiniest bit Unlike I anticipated. But I couldn't be happier, Simply couldn't be happier, Well, not "simply" 'Cause getting your dreams It's strange, but it seems A little, well, complicated.
There's a kind of a sort of cost. There's a couple of things get lost. There are bridges you cross You didn't know you crossed Until you've crossed!
And if that joy, that thrill Doesn't thrill like you think it will Still-- With this perfect finale, The cheers and the ballyhoo! Who wouldn't be happier? So I couldn't be happier, Because happy is what happens When all your dreams come true.
Well, isn't it?
Happy is what happens when you're dreams come true.
It's not Elphaba's fault that Glinda has ended up this way. Glinda chose it every step of the way. Yet, if Glinda had never met Elphaba, (if she'd never known her, you could say), she might have stayed shallow and vain. She might never have been challenged to look deeper and realize how empty it all felt.
So as Glinda sings "No One Mourns the Wicked," she realizes that even if the Munchkins are singing about the "Wicked Witch," she's not.
She's singing about herself.
The one who traded her morals, friendship, and love for a taste of the admiration and power over those who don't really know her. The one who was so worried about being likable that she herself doesn't like who she's become.
Even after she makes things better for Oz and herself by sending the wizard away and getting rid of Madame M, it just leaves Glinda by herself as the leader and source of goodness in Oz. It leaves her on a pedestal she can never step off of.
It leaves her lonely.
Entirely alone.
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flaminghotcheetoos · 2 days ago
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i’m a reader and i’m gonna say this from a reader perspective. i’m so sorry and i understand the author’s feeling and how unfair the treatment they got.
all of you amazing writers out there, you are very talented, you spend so much time writing stories to unleash your imagination and make people happy. you all make me happy. and it’s so unfair how some readers took you for granted, you all basically write amazing story FOR FREE.
a little love and feedback wouldn’t hurt. they said there’s no point telling the author how much they love their writing, THEY ARE WRONG. that’s absolute bullshit.
start appreciate all the authors you love instead of being ignorant. it takes no more than five minutes to give feedback compared to how many hours or days or months the author spent writing the story.
i know everyone have their own right to do whatever they want. in this case, i think it’s about being appreciative as a human being.
i hope the writers out there get so much love and appreciation no matter which fandom you coming from. you are amazing. thank you for all of your hard work. stay creative.
A writer friend told me something that broke my heart a little bit today; they're going to quit publishing their fanfic.
My instant thought was that they had been trolled or attacked or that something terrible had happened in their life because this person is so passionate about their writing. It wasn't any of that. Engagement with their works has been going down, as it has for many of us. Comments are like gold dust a lot of the time, and just looking through the historical comment counts on old fics on ao3 demonstrates this trend very clearly. It was not simply the comments dropping off which caused them to decide to stop posting, however.
My friend came across a discord server for their fandom (I should point out here that their fandom interest and mine diverged a couple of years ago, we stay in touch but don't currently read each other's posts because I'm not into their fandom and they would rather gouge their eyes out with a wooden spoon than read anything Star Wars) and specifically to share fic in that fandom. They joined, because we all love a good fic rec, only to discover that their latest multichapter fic, which has almost no comments and very few kudos, is being hotly discussed in this server as one of the best stories ever. Not one of these people has bothered to say this to them on the fic. When they asked, none of participants could see the point in telling the author of the fic they apparently loved so much that they love it.
This discovery has absolutely destroyed my friend's love of sharing fic. They share because they love seeing other people's enjoyment, and fic writers do that through comments and kudos/reblogs/likes because we don't get paid. There is no literary critic writing a blog post/article about how amazing the story is for us to copy and keep/frame. There is no money from royalties. All we have are the words of the people reading our works.
Those people on that server could have taken five minutes of the time they spent gushing about how amazing my friend's story was to other people and used it to tell the one person guaranteed to want to hear that praise how much they loved it. They could have taken a moment to express their opinion to the person who spent hours upon hours plotting, writing, editing, and posting those chapters. Instead, they deprived my friend of thing that keeps them sharing their writing, and in the process have killed their love of it. My friend now feels used and unmotivated.
I won't be sharing a link to their fic, they said I could share their experience but not their identity. I know they plan to post one final chapter. I know they intend to express their hurt at being excluded from the praise for the thing they created, and I know they intend to announce that as a consequence they will not be posting for a long while, if at all.
So please, I beg you, don't hide your love of a story from the writer. It's just about the only thing we have.
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deathbxnny · 3 days ago
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Helloo!! Arcane is ending soon, so I was wondering if I could request the Arcane cast reacting to a reader who suspiciously seems to know everything that’s gonna happen in the plot? They always appear where the action is, and they warn about dangers before they happen, trying to ”subtly” change the outcomes of horrible events. Tragedies are a core element of the story, so I feel that the narrative would create another disaster if one event got prevented, but the thought of these characters being safe and happy after all they’ve been through would be so healing :3 It’s up to you which way you want to take it 🐁💖 I’m fine with both platonic and romantic, but I’d love to see Vi, Jinx and Caitlyn if that’s ok :)
I love love love your writing, reading your HC’s before bed has become an important part of my day and it’s always a joy to see your work pop up in the tags <3 Thank you for letting us read your creations 💖 I can’t wait to read the second part of your Caitlyn fic!!
The Timekeeper. | Vi, Caitlyn, Jinx x Gn!Reader
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I absolutely LOVE this idea, Anon, and I appreciate your request so much!! Also, thank you for your kind words. It really means the world to me reading something so sweet!<33
Content: Angst, can be read as either platonic or romantic tbh, time traveling, fluff, bitter sweet, cursing, spoilers for season 2?, sfw
Reader has no set pronouns.
((Not proofread))
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You were always a mysterious figure to them. One that appeared at the right time in the right place whenever they needed you the most.
You never revealed a thing about yourself. You never even told them your name. But one thing they did know was that you had always looked out for them, like a guardian angel in a way.
And on one fateful day, after another evaded tragedy, they finally caught up to you just before you could leave again.
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》VI
"Who the hell are you?" She asked completely out of breath after having practically chased you down through the dense crowd of the undercity. She had seen you so many times before. So, so many times. And every time she did, you were somehow able to save her from certain death by subtly showing her the right way to survive.
It took her a while to piece together that you must've known the outcome of every situation she had ever been in beforehand. That was the only logical answer to the many questions around your existence she could come up with, but it wasn't enough to satiate her desperate curiosity. There were times she had chosen against your signs, and the consequences ended up being almost grave. So whoever you were, you must've had otherworldly knowledge about everything and everyone.
Because whilst she didn't know a thing about you, you certainly knew everything about her.
Raising your hooded head, you idly played with the pocket watch in your hand, piercing eyes meeting her own. "Does that matter?" You ask, and truthfully, it shouldn't. Who cared about your identity when she knew she could trust you? But that wasn't enough. "Yeah, it does to me. Now tell me who you are already. I... I've been seeing you everywhere for years now. You have always been there and I..." She trailed off, suddenly losing her confidence.
She had thought of this moment for years now, imagined exactly what she would say to you. And yet, ultimately, she found herself speechless in your presence that seemed to drown out everyone else around you two. "I see... but my apologies, we were not supposed to meet yet." You said calmly, seemingly undisturbed by her appearance. "Time and fate... they both are so tightly intertwined and yet also so far apart from each other... how odd that the timeline changed so suddenly again, no?" Your words made zero sense in her mind, but that just added to your mystery.
"What-" "-Are you happy with the way your life is going?" You ask, and that made the woman pause in thought. The answer was positive, of course, but only because you had a strong hand in it once she accepted your help. She thought of Powder back home, who was probably happily tinkering away with the young girl Isha they recently took in, and that made her finally nod. "Yes. All thanks to you." "Not at all. It was you who chose your fate. I only showed you the alternative paths."
You two stood there in silence for a moment before she shoved her hands into her pockets and looked over to a nearby bar she liked to frequent in-between missions. "Let's go grab a drink and talk. It's on me." Deciding to accept this new path the timelines had given you, you accept her invitation with a smile.
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》JINX
"You're terrible at your job." "Am I? I like to pride myself in my good work ethic, actually." Jinx was idly swinging her gun back and forth on her index finger whilst she rested up in the ceiling above you, clearly having followed you around secretly. But she knew that you already knew that from the start.
Scoffing at your words, she jumped down and landed in front of your indifferent figure as she pointed the gun right at you. "Pah! You're a funny one... so what are you? A time traveler?" "Ah, I like the title Timekeeper more." You were aggravating but at the same time a familiar face she had grown to appreciate deeply. You were the reason she was doing well in life now, even if she ignored you for a very, very long time. She thought she knew better despite all the odds pointing against her, especially you. Ultimately, she learned her lesson when she finally just listened to you.
"Ugh... whatever. Can't ya at least tell me your name?" "No." "Man, you're such a pain in the butt!" "Likewise." Rolling her eyes, she lowered her gun and lazily leaned against a wall, arms crossed tightly as she observed the crowds passing by from outside the abandoned building you were in. An admittedly comfortable silence fell between you two, one that relaxed her shoulders and made her sigh in defeat after a while. Your presence was always so comforting.
"So, you let me catch up to you this time. Finally tired of the cat and mouse game we've been playing?" You lowered your head at her question, a sly smile on your face that made her narrow her eyes in interest. "Perhaps. Or maybe I just wanted to ask you how you're doing?" What an odd question, considering the context of your meet-up. And yet, it was somehow fitting coming from you specifically. Wasn't your whole mysterious mission revolving around her well-being anyway?
"Shouldn't you know the answer to that, oh so esteemed 'Timekeeper'?" You found no offense in the mockery of your title. Just pure amusement. "I'm afraid that mind reading was not in the initial job listing." Jinx took a moment to think about your question carefully then, deciding to indulge you despite her better judgment. Things were good now, after all. She, Isha, and Vi were together again as a family, including Vander, even if they had yet to find a way to turn him back properly. But everything was happy otherwise... because you made sure that the end to her story wouldn't be a painfully tragic one.
"... I'm fine. Everything's fine." She muttered, and your smile widened at that answer. "So... I'm not terrible at my job, after all?" Pressing a playful hand to her chin, Jinx acted as though she was in deep thought. "Hmmm... I guess I'll need more convincing than all of this to decide." "Of course... then how about we start with running away before the Enforcers show up to raid this place in approximately... 2 minutes?"
Jinx rolled her eyes again with a grin but agreed to follow you, very much glad to have learned her lesson at your side throughout the years.
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》CAITLYN
She was ignorant towards your judgment from the start, especially as she was able to analyze very quickly that you weren't all you claimed you were. You were too smart, too fast, too aware of everything. It was clear that you already knew how her life story especially would come to an end. But that didn't mean that she'd always listen to you.
Caitlyn believed to know better, even going as far as to protest against your word, which she had learned to be fate itself. And sometimes she'd nearly get away with her life, and on others, you'd be the one to show up just in time to save her. It was embarrassing and at times even near humiliating, but you never judged her, just silently left every time she attempted to confront you.
And this time she had finally succeeded.
Now dressed in a formal uniform, she watched your still form stare out of a window in her estate, as though you weren't practically trespassing. But Caitlyn was used to that. "It's going to rain soon. I wonder if the construction workers will get done with the restoration on time today before the first drops fall." The navy haired woman came to stand next to you, ears finely tuned to your calming voice she had heard in her dreams and mind for so many years. It felt surreal to stand next to you at last.
"You already know the answer... but I think Mother will send out guards soon to retrieve them." Her mother, who had only narrowly escaped her death, if it wasn't for you. She had only gotten a little injured from falling debris, but that was all that happened. All of the councilors and people in the building had survived the Jinx attack. No grave injuries. All because you prevented it by throwing Jinx slightly off balance enough to make her shot not as precise.
"... Thank you." "For what?" The right answer would be absolutely everything, but she refrained, noting that you didn't seem keen on praise. You saw it as your job. As your duty to her for a reason unknown. "For saving my mother." That should do.
You nodded at her words in acknowledgment as your eyes spied Ambessa retreating with her troops in defeat. They were practicing chased away by the council since their help was unwelcome. Served them right for meddling with the business of other nations. You had exposed their ulterior motives in secret, and that's all it took for the tide to turn against them. "Just my duty." "I knew you'd say that... but I want to reward you for all you've done. If it wasn't for you... then I... I don't want to know what I would have become."
You glanced at her with an unreadable look in your eye, and that reconfirmed her suspicions regarding how deep she would have fallen otherwise. It's best not to think of it.
Humming to yourself in thought, you gave her a small smile. "Very well, if you insist... you can treat me to some fine tea and cookies." Caitlyn weakly mirrored your grin, relief filling her senses at you accepting her offer. She was worried you wouldn't. "Of course. Follow me." Linking your arms together carefully, you made your way through the dim halls.
A chuckle left your lips when it indeed began to rain.
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