#the amount of hip you need to do something like that | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sugawhaaa · 21 hours ago

Text

HONGJOONG ONE-SHOT

🌙Jumping through rings🌙

Warnings::SMUT, mentions of pregnancy (?)

Pairing:: dom!Hongjoong x sub!fem!reader

Genre::BREEDING KINK, oral (fem rec) creampie, praise, spit play, crying, multiple rounds, wedding night, shower sex??, aftercare, reader mentions being on BC

A/N:: first of all, sorry this took 69 million years to write. Second of all I have mentioned on here b4 that I rlly rlly rlly don't like the thought of being pregnant and I'm basically infertile irl but ughh when I ovulate I always just think of Hongjoong impregnating me 😩 Tmi sorry not sorry

🎧::

You and hongjoong talked a lot about your wedding. From decorations to guests to food to photography. All of it was planned out to a T…including your wedding night.

A few days after Hongjoong proposed to you the two of you were getting ready for a night of fun but Hongjoong shyly brought up the ring around your finger. “I was wondering if you would like to have sex on the night of our wedding. I know it's kind of weird but I think it's somehow romantic…” he explains as he sits on the edge of the bed with you.

“Of course baby,” you smile and take his hand in yours. “If it's something you'd like to do on your wedding then I'm down,”

“And I was wondering if we could make it…extra special?” His offer seemed normal at first but when you asked him to go on he explained that he wanted to potentially have unprotected sex and openly explore our deepest desires. The two of you communicated a lot about it and finally got everything set in stone.

After your wedding you had a fun after party that was more relaxed. You were wearing your big wedding dress and Hongjoong was just wearing a black button up and dress pants that undoubtedly looked delectable on his ass. You were slightly worried about getting tired for your romantic night but it ended up being okay. Towards the end of the after party you and Hongjoong got back together again. Most of the day you spent apart being so busy with taking photos and meeting up with relatives and so on. At the end of the party it was mainly the best friends and of course Hongjoongs members.

They were all done up and presentable for their big bros big day. They all showered you in compliments as well and congratulated the two of you about a hundred times.

“Do you two have any plans for the rest of the night?” Mingi asked innocently and the rest tried to signal him not to bring it up. Hongjoong wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you closer to him, standing hip to hip.

“We have a few things in mind,” Hongjoong smiles at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Oh I did not need to know that,” Jongho makes a pained expression and the others make fun of him.

“Really though, I'm happy for you guys,” Seonghwa puts a hand on Hongjoongs shoulder. “Enjoy yourselves,” seonghwas smile was oddly sincere but you didn't mind. You thanked him and he handed the two of you a red envelope. The two of you knew exactly what that meant and instantly opened it. As you saw the amount of bills, the “cha ching” sound could be heard in your head.

“Jeez Seonghwa's spoiling us,” Hongjoong blushes from the great offer you guys were given.

“You deserve it,” he nods and gives Hongjoong a big hug and you a more gentle one.

Then the night came to an end. You said your goodbyes to the last few guests and as you and hongjoong began to clean up the wedding planners told the two of you to just go home and they'll handle the mess. Hongjoong picked you up bridal style as he walked you out to your car. He set you down before opening the car door for you.

“Ladies first,” he smirked as he held it open. You giggle softly as you hop in. Hongjoong closes the door before going over to his side. As the two of you drive home you look out the window as the street lights pass by. “You still…up for our plans?” He asks as his eyes fixate on the road. You turn to him quickly as you hear his voice.

“Of course. Are you?” You ask slightly worried.

“Of course baby. I was the one who brought it up afterall,” he smiles and as you come up to a very familiar intersection you notice he pulls to the side, going into the turning lane. You furrow your brows in confusion but let him do his thing. Though as he keeps driving you realize you're going in the opposite direction of your house.

“Um hongjoong, where are we going?” You look up at him and he smirks.

“I have one more surprise for you,”

When he pulls up to a love hotel your jaw drops.

“Hongjoong. Are you serious?” You laugh softly and he laughs at your reaction.

“Dead serious,” he turns the car off and the two of you open the doors simultaneously. “Five star rating and the rooms look real nice,” Hongjoong holds your hand as you walk up to the hotel. When you get inside you're greeted by the woman at the front desk and Hongjoong tells her about his reservation. The lady hands him a keycard with the room number on it and the two of you head up to your room. “I'm so excited to show you the room,” Hongjoong smiles, basically beaming with excitement. “It's gorgeous,”

The elevator stops on the top floor and you and hongjoong begin to search for your room. 771. You eventually find it and Hongjoong swipes the card before opening the door for you to get the first look at the room. Your jaw drops as you walk in. There was a massive bed in the center of the room with tall poles that held up red silky curtains, the blankets of the bed were red and gold with a beautiful trim along the bottom. There were two nightstands beside the bed that were a deep brown color with bright and warm lamps resting on top of them. Underneath the bed was a black and red carpet with swirly designs on it.

“Hongjoong, this is…” you were at a loss for words as you examined the room. The bathroom was black as well to match the theme and the nightstands had lots of items in there.

“Oh and here's the best part,” Hongjoong goes over to the bedside and draws back one of the curtains and rose petals covering the bed. “Real rose petals,” he smiled as he presented them to you and you rushed over to hug him.

“Thank you baby, this is more than I could ask for,” you say as you nuzzle into his neck. He pats your back with a warm smile before kissing your forehead.

“I'm glad you like it babe,” he pulls back from the hug and caresses your face. “Are you still wearing makeup?” He tilts his head slightly.

“Yeah only a little bit,” you blush softly and he grins.

“Good. I was hoping I could see it streaming down your face,” his words made your face heat up and he was only more amused by your reaction. He caresses your bottom lip softly before kissing you. “Why don't we get started hm?” Hongjoong runs his hands down the side of your body, and you hum softly, agreeing with him. He brings his hands around to the back of your dress and pulls down the zipper. As the faint zip echoes in the room you can feel the excitement rush through your body. All of this build up. You've been waiting for this night for months and you knew Hongjoong had even more in store for you.

Hongjoong gently pulls the dress off your shoulders and let's it pool at your ankles. You step out of the dress and set it aside. You stood before him in only your panties which made him smirk softly. He reached out to cup one of your breasts in his hands as he went to kids your neck softly. “Baby,” he says in a tone that makes your skin crawl with nerves.

══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══

“Yes?”

“I wanna breed you tonight.” He states with a hint of desperation and promise that makes your jaw drop. You go speechless for a moment. “Fill up that warm and wet little pussy that belongs to me,” he growls in your ear as his hands go down to your ass, gripping the flesh. “Tonight, I want you to be the dirtiest little slut; don't hold anything back. Be messy, be loud, be mean, be a kinky slut. Tonight, nothing else matters besides our kinks and undying love, alright?” He nuzzles his face against your shoulder before gently grinding his boner against your panties. “So, I revealed my secret kink, now what's yours?” He said with a seductive tone that made your cunt throb.

“I um…I'm not sure,” you look down softly. “Maybe…spit play? I honestly haven't explored my fantasies that deeply,” you admit before Hongjoong steps back, undoing his blouse.

“That's okay darling, that's why we'll explore tonight. Maybe some of our kinks align,” he smiles as he takes off his button up shirt. Your jaw drops as you see his muscles; he was ten times buffer than the last time you saw him shirtless.

“Oh my babe, have you been working out more?” Your eyes are locked on his chest as you feel yourself drooling over him. He blushes softly with a smile before nodding.

“Yeah…I wanted to impress you,” he begins to take off his pants before throwing them aside as well.

The two of you climb into the bed and pretty much as soon as your body makes contact with the bed and rose petals you begin to make out. Your hands tangle into his hair as your tongues dance rhythmically and your bodies are pulled together like magnets. The sound of wet lips and tongues twirling echo in the room along with moans and the sound of your skin rubbing against each other. The two of you breathe heavily as you make out and you feel Hongjoongs boner twitching and throbbing against your panties. “Baby…I don't know if I can do foreplay. I need my cock inside you,” he groans as you gasp for air after your heated kiss.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” You tease and Hongjoong instantly leans back and pulls off his boxers, his cock springing to life. As he takes off his boxers you pull off your panties, the middle of them are now a darker shade due to your arousal. Hongjoong runs a finger up your folds; his finger glides along with ease due to your slick.

"You're so hot baby, you gotta let me a have a taste," he leans down and runs his tongue along your slit; he moans as the tangy slick dances along his tongue. He then slurps your folds into his mouth suckling on the sensitive flesh. He moans as he sucks the juices out of your pussy as he buries his face in your cunt. "Such a pretty pussy," he moans against your folds as you buck your hips into his face. He then pulls back, his face wet with your arousal, and aligns his tip to your entrance.

He slowly pushes forward and your folds envelop his cock. The two of you moan simultaneously as the warmth courses through your bodies, and the long-awaited desire that had built up threatens to spill over. You both took a moment to catch your breath and soak up the pleasure of being joined once again. It had been at the very least a month since the two of you engaged in sex which made the pleasure even more exaggerated than usual.

"You're so hot baby," Hongjoong growls as he leans his body down closer to you. "Can't wait to fill you with my cum," he breathes heavily as he struggles to hold himself back. Your hands creep up to his back, clawing at his shoulder blades as he looms over you. He slowly moves his hips back and then forward again. Your moans sync again as you grip onto his cock.

"Please baby, I can't wait. Just fuck me," you whine as you throw your head back and a devilish grin spreads across his face.

"I know baby, but trust me; just wait a little longer," he whispers as his hips continue their slow and strategic pace. You whine as your body craves more of this addictive pleasure. "Good girl, deep breaths, show daddy how good you are," he says in a low and creamy voice that makes your walls clench around his cock. His hips begin to move faster and you find yourself able to control your reactions; your legs jerk up, toes curled, nails digging into his back, and your jaw hung open as moans spill over. "Hold it in baby, c'mon," Hongjoong encourages as his hips move faster and faster until your mind goes blank.

"I-I can't," your voice shakes as you speak and your body curls forward as you bury your face in his shoulder. "Please, fuck, I'm gonna cum!" You cry out but Hongjoong doesn't stop. His hips snap against yours furiously and you feel yourself coming undone as your moans echo in the room. "Hongjoong!" You cry out as your body shakes and Hongjoong tilts over the edge; spilling his seed inside you.

The two of you pant in harmony as Hongjoong gently thrusts to drag out the pleasure. You felt the warmth of his cum creeping up your body and you felt an unexpected euphoria at the fact he had cum inside you; something was so romantic and erotic about it.

"How do you feel my love?" Hongjoong rubs your cheek as he feels sweat building along his hairline and neck.

"Amazing," you chuckle and Hongjoong smiles before kissing you softly.

"Wanna try a new position?" He asks out of the blue and you nod. Hongjoong explains how to get into the position as he slips out of you. You'd bring your legs up against your body until your ankles reach near your head and hold your legs up with your arms. Hongjoong would then enter you and lean forward, basically squishing your bodies together, but it's supposedly really pleasurable, especially for the woman.

The two of you get into position and Hongjoong slips into you again; a symphony of moans escapes your throat as you feel his cock stretch you out again. You whimper as you claw at the backs of your thighs and hongjoong grins. "You like that?" He growls and all you can do is nod.

"'Feels so-so good," you whimper, slightly incoherently, and Hongjoong smiles; his hips moving faster thanks to your moans. The pleasure was overwhelming at this point, you couldn't even function, because this position made it so that every time Hongjoong thrusted back into you he'd hit your G-spot and A-spot basically at the same time.

Suddenly Hongjoong leans over and tosses the curtain out of the way to reach the desk. He grabs a vibrator and turns it on, startling you. "H-Hongjoong are you-?" And before you can speak you feel the vibrations on your clit buzzing through your body. "O-Oh shit!" You cry out as you bite your lip, your lip gloss potent on your tongue. You feel your eyes begin to water as your mind goes blank again and not even moans can slip through your lips.

Your legs shake aggressively as you tighten around his cock, so hard that he felt like you were cutting off the blood circulation, and it all came undone in a split second. A cry of pleasure tore through your throat as fluids gushed out of you onto Hongjoongs abs; he was stunned at first but quickly got turned on. He pulled out to watch the fountain of fluids spray from your body, thanks to his skills, before cumming onto your stomach.

"Oh yeah baby, good girl," he praises as he rubs your thighs. Your body falls limp as you pant and Hongjoong leans down to kiss your chest. "You did so good," he pulls back to look at the pure bliss written across your face but he finds your makeup smudged around your eyes. Hongjoong bites his lip as his cock springs up again. He blushes in embarrassment at how quickly he got hard again. He rubs your cheek softly, feeling the sweat and tears coat his finger as he admires your beauty.

"Thank you Hongjoong," you sigh as Hongjoong turns off the vibrator and sets it back on the nightstand. He smiles softly and kisses you.

"Thank you, Y/N" Hongjoong smiles as he helps you sit up. "You should drink some water after losing all that fluid," he gets up and retrieves two bottles of water from the mini fridge. He hands you one before chugging his own.

You watch as his Adam's apple bobs as the liquid goes down his throat; his neck shining with sweat. As he parts his lips from the bottle he sighs before turning over to look at you; you were frozen from his ethereal beauty. Your palm was still on the cap of the bottle as you looked at him slacked jawed and wide eyed. "Everything okay?" He chuckles softly as he slicks his hair back.

"Yeah I guess I just forgot how fucking hot you are," you laugh and Hongjoong blushes with a laugh as well.

"Thank you," he chuckles. "I think you're feeling the euphoria of those really intense orgasms. You're probably getting a rush of feel-good hormones which is exactly what I want," he smiles as sneaks a kiss. "Now drink up," he pats your leg to snap you back to reality, and you open up the water before chugging it. "Good girl," he smiles before you screw the cap back on and set it on the nightstand. "What do you wanna do next baby?" He tilts his head softly and you think for a moment.

"Well I have a position in mind..." you put a finger to your chin before smiling at him. You lay on your stomach and lift your ass up just enough for him to slip inside you. "Then you lean down until your chest is against my back and then, fuck me," you smile innocently and Hongjoong laughs.

"You really are a naughty girl aren't you?" He grins as he situates himself on top of you before slipping inside with ease due to all the cum and liquid from earlier. He lets out a soft sigh as he sinks into your warmth. "Is this okay?" Hongjoong asks, making sure you are comfortable and happy. You nod with a little hum and Hongjoong leans down a bit further, his chin resting on your shoulder. He brings his hands up to the backs of yours, your wedding rings rubbing up against each other.

As Hongjoong's hips begin to move the two of you stay relaxed and calm during this round. Soft praise and kisses filled the air along with soft gasps and whimpers. Hongjoongs fingers gripped tighter onto your hand as your rings pushed into each other. "I love you Hongjoong," you breathe out between moans. Hongjoong smiles before kissing the back of your shoulder.

"I love you too Y/N," he moans as he slides his cock in and out of you in such a rhythmic way. "I love...feeling my cock hit so deep inside you baby. I could fuck your pussy every day and night," he moans before burying his face in your shoulder, his thrusts becoming more urgent and harsh; his fingers tighten around yours as well. "I think I'm gonna cum again," he whimpers softly and the sound of his voice laced with lust is enough for your pussy to clench around him.

"Let it out baby," you say warmly as you rest your head against the pillow.

"'M gonna fill you up my cum," he moans softly as his eyes flutter shut and his lips part, his brows furrow slightly as the pleasure swallows him whole. "You're gonna take it all baby, yes, f-fuck-agh!" He moans with short, soft gasps as his warm seed begins to drizzle inside of you. You moan at the sensation, feeling pure bliss and excitement.

Hongjoongs hands tremble slightly as his orgasm subsides and his body relaxes. The two of you rest in silence for a moment, basking in the afterglow. Hongjoong buries his face in your back as he takes deep breaths. He wanted to ask you again how you were feeling but he was suddenly shy after his performance. "Why don't we...head to the shower?" He says partially out of breath. You smile softly as he sits up and pulls out.

"Yeah, good plan," you chuckle before lying on the bed, catching your breath for a moment. You look over at Hongjoong, who is currently doing the same as you, and you can't help but appreciate how he looks right now. His hairline sweaty, his cheeks flushed, his lips parted as his chest heaves with each breath. He then sits up and offers you a hand.

"Let's go shower," he helps you to the bathroom and turns on the water before hopping in with you. He closes the glass door as you begin to hose down your bodies. "So...did you like trying no protection? Or do you feel indifferent?" He chuckles as he grabs some soap to wash his hair.

"I loved it," you smile as you grab your own shampoo.

"Are you concerned about..." Hongjoong seems a little shy or flustered about this topic but you knew what he was entailing.

"I am still on the pill and even if something does happen we'll be prepared," you nod and Hongjoong sighs in relief as he washes out the shampoo.

"I'm glad," he sighs. "I feel like...well I kinda have a thing for...I guess people call it a breeding kink and I can't deny that I have it. Afterwards though I just get a little worried about the consequences of my fantasies," he admits as he rinses the soap out of your hair for you.

"I wouldn't worry about it baby," you shrug as you involuntarily put a hand to your lower stomach. "I do have to admit the feeling is intoxicating...the warmth and fullness sensation is undescribably amazing," you explain to him and a little smile creeps on your face.

"Is that so?" As he finishes rinsing your hair he creeps a hand down to your core again, swiftly fingering your clit causing you to gasp. You rest your head back against his shoulder as your hair clings to his wet body; soft moans escape your lips. "Wanna feel it again? My warmth inside you, my seed filling you up~?"

#Spotify #wedding night #ateez x reader #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #ateez hard hours #ateez hard thoughts #ateez hongjoong #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong smut #idk what else to tag #breeding k1nk

145 notes · View notes

malk1ns · 2 days ago

Note

Sid getting at that other player in a headlock sure was something. Not sure if that does anything for Geno or SidGeno but it did something for me!

oh you mean this moment?

yeah, same. boy likes to wrestle.

Geno’s been watching Sid all night.

That’s nothing new. They’re always looking at each other; on the bench when they’re breaking down the other team’s play, during a shift when Sid’s about to take a faceoff and looks over at Geno and knows they’re going to do something special, during practice when they’re pushing each other to try harder at a drill.

Sid can tell when it’s about something that’s not hockey-related, though.

The team wants to go out after they beat the Habs at home. Sid’s gotten four goals in two games, they’re pulling themselves out of the malaise of the first two weeks of the season; the right choice would be to take the boys out, buy a few rounds of drinks, let them talk him into doing a shot, and duck out before the kids get too crazy.

Sid’s feeling selfish, though. Geno’s eyes on him are heavy, his blood is up from the scrum at the end of the game, and it doesn’t take him more than a second to offer some excuse and wiggle out of the invite to the South Side and sneak out to his car.

He drums his steering wheel the whole way home.

Geno’s car is already parked in his driveway when he gets there, and every light in the house is on. Normally, Sid would wander around and turn the lights off before heading upstairs to scold Geno for wasting electricity, but tonight he barely pauses to make sure the gate is shut behind him before he’s half-jogging up to the bedroom.

When he gets there, Geno’s sprawled out on his stomach, scrolling through something on his phone. He’s naked, and his skin looks damp, like he jumped in the shower again after getting back from the rink.

He looks up and raises his eyebrows, arching his back just the tiniest bit so that his ass is even further on display. “Slow,” he says, tossing his phone onto the floor and propping his chin in his hands.

Sid’s on him before he can even open his mouth to say more.

Sometimes, after games like this, he wants a fight. Sid tries to stay humble, tries to remind himself that he didn’t get to where he is on his own, but every now and then he knows he’s on a heater, knows he’s the reason his boys pulled out a win, and even a lengthy cooldown bike ride isn’t enough to settle him.

On those nights, Geno knows just what to give him.

Geno’s whole career, he’s had people underestimating how strong he is. Sid understands why; he’s skinny, with mile-long legs built for speed and arms that can reach out and grab a puck but don’t hold obvious muscle like some guys. It usually only takes one on-ice tangle to set people straight about how far from weak he is.

So, when Sid gets on top of Geno and tries to pin him to the mattress, it doesn’t take much effort for Geno to buck him off, those long legs tangling with Sid’s to knock him to the side and get them on even footing.

For a minute, it even looks like Geno might win. He’s got Sid flat on his back in the middle of the mattress, straddling his waist and his big palms heavy on Sid’s shoulders, and there’s a gleam of triumph in his eyes, but Sid’s lower body strength is infamous for a reason, and this time, when he flips them over and pins Geno belly-down on the bed, one hand keeping his wrists stretched up over his head and his thighs clamped tight around Geno’s hips, Geno gives.

When Sid lets Geno’s hands free, he knows he’ll stay where Sid put him.

“Fuck,” Sid grunts, moving down so he can get at Geno’s ass. “Did you—oh yeah,” he groans, thumbing at Geno’s hole, already wet where he’d fingered himself open before Sid got home.

“Sid,” Geno whines, and Sid doesn’t make him wait.

Geno’s so tight when they do it like this, legs squeezed together and just the barest amount of prep by his own hand before Sid gets at him, but they both like it that way, like the way Sid needs to hold Geno down and make him take it, the way Geno wants to fight back but can’t do anything except let Sid in.

Sid had worried, years ago, that he was hurting Geno, especially when he saw the way Geno limped around the next morning. As it turns out, he was—it’s just that Geno likes it just as much as Sid does.

“Fucking take it,” Sid grits out through his teeth, pressing his forearm down across Geno’s shoulderblades to hold him in place as he pushes in. Geno’s squirming under him, trying to get away, but he’s arching back into it too, practically presenting for Sid even as he begs, and it gets Sid hot, even hotter than scoring a hat trick would have, the way he can put someone like Geno down and make him.

Once he’s fully seated, he grabs Geno’s hips tight enough to bruise. “Hang on,” he warns, before fucking into him so hard Geno cries out and scrabbles at the bedspread.

He’s not gentle. He’s not nice. He won them a game tonight, and he’s due a reward.

Sid can feel when Geno comes, the way he starts rutting desperately against the blanket for friction. He tightens up incredibly when he orgasms like this, so much that it almost hurts, but Sid holds him down and fucks him through it, from when his gasps turn into sobs and he finally goes quiet under Sid’s hands.

That’s when Sid lets himself come, hitching forward once more and bending over Geno’s body as he groans out his own release, leaning down to bite at Geno’s neck.

Geno doesn’t like it when Sid stays in him for too long after they fuck, but he doesn’t have much choice when Sid drops his full weight on top of him, so all he does is grumble and kick until Sid finally catches his breath enough to roll off to one side.

“You ok?” Sid asks, a cursory check that has Geno rolling his eyes in lieu of a real answer.

“Good game,” he says instead, wiggling a little and burying his head in his pillow, turning just enough so that Sid can see one of his eyes. He always gets shy when he lets Sid do him like that. “Two goals, like, you’re hit 600 soon.”

“Mmm,” Sid says, dismissing that without too much thought. “I’ll get it from you, probably, if Sully keeps us on a line.”

The lines next to Geno’s eye crease when he smiles. “Maybe you’re get me some goals next game, like, I’m spend all my time get you points, none left for me,” he complains. He’s only half-serious.

“Gotta work hard to keep up if you want to play on the top line,” Sid says serenely, squawking in protest when Geno reaches over and smacks at his pec, pinching until he gets Sid’s nipple to twist and setting off another round of wrestling.

Luckily, tomorrow is a day off.

#sidgeno #my writing #also this gif is mine #you can tell b/c it's very bad and i made it in two seconds

67 notes · View notes

itwasntimethatdidit40 · 2 days ago

Text

Waffles for breakfast

Pairing/AU: Joel Miller x afab!reader, no outbreak so flour is safe in this one lol

Words counts: 1141

Rating: +16? (just a little tiny smut 👀)

Tags: pov second person, no use of y/n, reader is described having breasts and vagina, no other description is given, established relationship, a huge amount of fluff, mutual masturbation, unprotected p in v (do better irl!), joel cooks (i feel like this needs its own tag 😂)

A/N: another thing I wrote a year ago, revised and corrected. I hope there are no mistakes but if there are please, forgive me.

Enjoy the Sunday fluff my lovely friends, hope you’ll like it and you’ll have a really nice day♥️

Tagging: @baronessvonglitter , @aurorawritestoescape, @milla-frenchy and @bean-is-reading just to say thanks for your encouragement, kindness and support, you all are great and deserve the world 😭♥️

Thanks to anyone who reads this!

“Joel”

“What”

“Leave it alone, there's no need for you to do it”

“I’m doing great!”

“Okay”

You are observing a batter that is too liquid and full of lumps.

Joel got into his head to prepare breakfast this morning, perhaps because last night you ironically commented on his total inability to cook something vaguely edible.

“Let me finish, you'll see you'll like them”

He got into his head to make you waffles.

Him.

The one who burns everything he tries to cook, the one who holds a neat pile of takeaway flyers near the phone.

His idea of fine cuisine is fried chicken wings or pepperoni pizza with olives.

You tried to make him forget that he promised you, you tried very hard.

This morning you woke up first, slipped over to his side of the bed and hugged him, clinging to his back and encircling his waist with one arm.

You intertwined your legs with his to get as close as possible and slid your hand under his shirt caressing his tummy, leaving little kisses on his wide back through the shirt.

Your hand made its way into his boxers to reach his sex and you gently stroked it until you felt it get hard.

He made a grunt as he woke up and put his big hand on yours, continuing to massage.

You surrounded the base with your fingers, slowly going up to the tip, stroking his cock.

Slowly.

He made a deep, hoarse moan.

He turned to look at you and held you close, lowered a hand on your sex and massaged you in turn.

You took back his shaft in your hand and you both continued like this, caressing each other, looking at each other smiling, until everything became too hot and blurry.

You undressed in an instant, throwing everything on the floor.

You rode him the way he likes it, your hands resting on his broad chest while he held you firmly by your hips. He always says he loves seeing you like this and he loves your tits bounce before his eyes.

You lay on him exhausted, totally satisfied, he hugged you tightly.

“God baby, you're amazing”

He kept you like this for what seemed like an endless time and anyway you wish it never ended.

He kissed your forehead and nose and whispered “well, good morning I guess”.

You giggled then kissed that little patch in his beard that you adore “Good morning, Joel”.

You thought he'd forget by then and never get up.

Joel, however, is a man who keeps his promises.

He is a stubborn man, above all, when he gets something in his head, nothing stops him. Whether it's small or big doesn't matter.

And he would do anything when he cares about a person.

He got up and you saw him disappear in the bathroom.

You wanted to follow to continue distracting him but you knew that it would be useless anyway so you decided to enjoy the warmth of the bed for a while longer, wrapped in his scent on the sheets and pillow.

You heard the shower water flowing and after a few minutes he came out with a towel around his waist, a few drops of water still on his skin, chest, shoulders, wet hair pulled back.

A breathtaking view.

You would have liked to drag him back to bed but he headed to the closet, pulled out a clean t-shirt, boxer briefs and a pair of sweatpants.

He got dressed and said, “stay in bed, babe, I'll make you breakfast” with a smile so sweet and enthusiastic that it melted your heart.

You didn't have the courage to say no to him, and now you're here, watching him energetically turn a spoon into the bowl and try to remove the lumps from a too liquid blob. You wonder how he was able to make it liquid but at the same time lumpy.

You smile, looking at how he's trying.

“Joel, please. There are frozen pancakes in the freezer.”

“Absolutely not, it's Sunday, I won't let you eat frozen stuff”

And you laugh thinking that he would like to give you that thing that he is furiously stirring instead.

It looks like glue.

You stop protesting, because you see how tenderly he looks at you, you see how convinced he is as he pulls out the waffle iron and lets it warm up.

In the meantime, the batter has thickened a bit but it remains full of lumps.

You offer to set the table, but he doesn't want you to do that either.

“Today you have to relax, I'll take care of you”

You stay on your stool, with your elbows leaning against the island counter looking at him and remaining silent, enjoying the sight of his arms delightfully embraced by his t-shirt.

He puts two placemats on the counter, two plates, cutlery and glasses.

He takes the orange juice out of the fridge.

Pour a little batter on the iron, close and wait with a satisfied smile.

What he puts on your plate it’s the ugliest waffle you've ever seen but you don't have the heart to tell him.

Not when he seems so proud and convinced of his work.

After all, what does it cost you to taste?

You hope you won't need to call 911.

You chew slowly, tasting a strange flavor, but you don't say anything.

He looks at you in expectation.

“So, how is it?”

“Good” you try to say, but you don't know how to swallow the bite.

It's weird, gummy, incredibly salty.

You keep chewing while he takes a bite too.

He chews for a few seconds and then roll his eyes and bend over the sink spitting.

“My God it’s horrible! Don't eat it!”

At his surrender, you can no longer resist and you also spit in the sink and then turn on the garbage disposal hoping that that horrible thing will disappear forever.

You laugh, you laugh so much that tears come to your eyes while he looks so sorry.

“I think I put salt instead of sugar in it” he murmurs.

You keep laughing, as you approach to hug him “how much did you put in, a whole jar?”

“Fuck” he rolls his eyes, looking frustrated.

“Babe, it doesn't matter, really”

You squeeze him as much as you can, he put his chin on your shoulder “I’m sorry, I wanted to do something nice”

“Don't worry, you tried” you stroke the back of his neck trying to comfort him “I appreciate it anyway”

His strong arms surround your waist and you wouldn't want to change him with anything in the world.

You look him in the eyes “I love you”

“Damn I guess that's true, considering the crap I just made”

And he laughs too, finally relaxed.

“I love you too”

And he kisses you.

After all, breakfast is not that important.

#joel miller x afab!reader #joel miller #the last of us #joel miller fluff #joel miller au #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #joel the last of us #joel tlou #pedro pascal characters

69 notes · View notes

bunnys-kisses · 3 days ago

Text

kink-o-ween - day twenty-two

george russell - mirror sex

tags: pwp/smut, insecure!reader, mirror sex, praise, established relationship, loving!george, teasing, doggy style, pull out method

a/n: heyyy, kinkoween is being finished (yay), october was a rough month for me. but i am back and ready to post the rest of it! thank you for the support and patience, it has really benefited me both emotionally and creatively!

kink-o-ween master-list

"what do you mean, my love?" george looked at you. an expression of worry crossed his handsome features.

you shifted from one foot to another. it felt weird to say it out loud. you felt your cheeks grow hot. this felt stupid, but you swallowed down the feeling. you looked at him and said, "george, i'm not pretty."

his expression changed a little and he reached for you. his hands so kind on your face as he looked you in the eyes. he replied, "well, of course you're not pretty. you're beautiful. the most beautiful woman i've ever seen or met."

the mirror in your shared bedroom with george was full length. it was good to make sure everything looked as it should without cutting anything off. you looked in it almost every day before you left the apartment. now it took on a different meaning as george put you on your knees in front of it.

he was behind you. you were still in the sundress that showed y a healthy amount of cleavage. a nice display for your lover. and george loved to sight of you in it. an off-white with apples on it.

"so beautiful." he said softly, "so, so beautiful." why don't you see what i see?"

"my chicken wing arms. how round my face is." you started, but were silenced as george turned your head to kiss you passionately on the lips.

"i don't want to hear it." he said, "so what? you look amazing in every angle. you're perfect in every angle i see of you."

you blushed before george gave you another sweet kiss. he then started to unzip the dress. while it looked great on you, it would look even better on the floor.

"you're so pretty... no, no, beautiful." he said softly as he pulled the sleeves of the dress off of you shoulders. he kissed the back of the left one and you made a soft noise.

"george."

he only responded by placing his lips on your neck as he wrapped his strong arms around you. he was always your protector. your lover. there was no need to have insecurities when he was with you. he then said, "look at yourself." he cooed and it made you shiver with want.

you shifted a little on your knees before you helped george get you out of your dress. george loved you in a good sundress, but to see if off of you. naked before him. it made him do a double take.

"look at you." he said, "look how beautiful you are." he tilted your head to the side to press a tender kiss at your pulse point.

"i just see myself." you said he rubbed himself up against you. you knew his cock was straining against his expensive jeans.

"say something nice about yourself." he said, "be nice to yourself." he knew it was hard for you. so he had to get creative about ways to help you gain a bit of confidence.

"george."

"just one thing." he egged you on as he held you in his arms. you were near nude in front of the mirror. exposed to yourself and your lover.

you replied, "i guess. i like my smile." you felt heat in your core. you felt the throb between your legs.

your lover kissed your temple, "excellent." he said with love. he got you out of your undergarments. this his clothes. both of you naked in front of the mirror. george caught glimpses of your naked for. he held onto your hips for a moment before he kissed your neck and shoulders.

"honey." you said as you ended up on your elbows with your hips raised for him. it excited your lover. the driver was enamored by you, in all the ways he could be.

he tilted your hips a little more and he sank his cock into you. inch by inch as he eased into you. he cursed under his breath for a moment before he said, "i love you. every inch of you. you drive me insane. i never want anyone else in my life." the fire fueled in his stomach as he started to move against you.

"you flirt." you moaned as you held onto the edge of the rug under you. the piece was expensive enough that you weren't going to get rug burn by the end of it.

george chuckles and said with love, "it's not flirting when it's the truth."

you moaned, "i love you too." and shifted your hips a little to get more comfortable.

"say something else about yourself. i want to hear it." he groaned as he moved against you. he could see the pleasure across your face in the reflection of the mirror.

your flushed a little bit. you felt the sting of heat in your ears, "just one other thing?" you asked as he thrusted.

"just one more."

you looked in the mirror as you were fucked with steady thrusts. you glimpsed at yourself and licked your lips, "i love my eyes. they're not the most interesting, but they're pretty. and i like that i can always make you laugh."

george smiled before he leaned over you further and kissed your face in places he could reach, "see was that so bad? saying nice things about yourself." his tone was a little teasing and it made your core feel warm.

you shuddered and moaned a little louder as you felt immense pleasure. you were aroused by this. to see your boyfriend make love to you.

"i love you." you moaned.

george shakily exhaled, "i love you too, every chance i get. i always need to tell you how much you mean to me." his words made you moan, your pleasure coursed through your body and in your blood. you clutched tightly onto the rug as you kept your gaze on the mirror in front of you.

"look at yourself." he purred as he worked his cock into you. your wetness left him feeling hot all over. he glanced at the mirror. he licked his lips at the sight of you.

he wished you saw what he saw everyday. how stunning you were both in appearance and also personality. you were a fire in george's soul, the inferno in his blood as he continued to rock against you. praise flowed freely from his lips and his words warmed your soul.

"you're so beautiful." he said as he moved against you nice and slow. his thrusts had force behind them, but he was gentle with you. you moaned and george kissed your bare back.

"please, fuck, honey."

"you can't stop me praising you." he remarked, "i want you to feel like you're on top of the world. that no one could stop you." he said as moved a little faster.

you could feel the pleasure bubble in your core as the rush flowed through you. you could feel the intense feeling all over you. you moaned, "i love you." you had no other words.

"and i love you." he promised as he worked his hips against your sweet cunt. your pussy felt amazing around his cock. george looked in the mirror at the sight of you drenched in pleasure.

you looked at the two of you, caught the sight of your lover staring. even now he looked s handsome. he pushed hair out of his face and the two of you continued to make love on the floor. your knees ached a little from the position but at that moment you didn't care.

"my beautiful girl." he said with heat tinged in his voice as he felt his orgasm close.

you were the first to finish with your face against the rug. you held onto it and moaned loudly. george worked your hips as he came soon after. hr pulled out and finished on your back with a tight groan. he shuddered and his cock twitched when he saw his cum covering your back.

"so, do you believe me now? that i think you're beautiful." he panted heavily. as he leaned back on his heels for a moment to admire you. he wiped the sweat from his forehead. it wasn't long before he was up off the ground to get tissues to clean your back with.

you admitted, "yes... i believe you." and when george returned he kissed you on the cheek before he cleaned you up. you melted a little at the touches.

if anyone thought you were beautiful, it would be george. and as you got your underwear back on, you admired yourself in the mirror. and maybe george was right. you were beautiful. <3

#bunny writes #kink o ween #kinktober #reader insert #formula one imagine #formula one smut #formula 1 #f1 smut #formula one fanfiction #f1 x reader #george russell x you #george russell smut #george russell x reader #george russell imagine #george russell #gr63 smut #gr63 x reader #gr63 x you #gr63

143 notes · View notes

love-toxin · 1 day ago

Text

Liondancer -> Lingyang

a/n: ouugh ive had no time to write bc work so take this my pretties </3 i love lingyang <3

(cws: non/dubcon, afab!reader, pw/op, knotting, breeding, heat cycles, scenting, outdoor sex, dirty talk)

wc: 1.3k

You would know what that leg-thumping means if you caught sight of it. Lingyang is incessant, stalking, watching you from the trees…

…he's waiting to strike. It's not necessary, just a part of his routine. It's his instinct. He may be domesticated, but that doesn't mean he's rejected that primal heat inside him completely. It's what dominates his mood during this season, and drives his actions as he stalks through the grasses to cross the path to you.

Lingyang is in a rut, and who better to help him satisfy that breeding desire than you?

You can already smell his musk from here, so potent it could knock you over. The twitch of his tail before it straightens, wiggles, the shift of his haunches as he rolls his hips into nothingness, they're all signs of his condition, but you don't move from your spot. General Jiyan stationed you here for patrol, and you would be a fool to disobey him just because there's something moving in the grasses.

It's a shame you don't realize what it is until he's gotten close enough to strike, flattening himself down completely on his stomach before he leaps–and the ramming thump of his palms on your chest vibrates through you as you shriek and fall, tumbling back into the ground as your gun skitters off into the underbrush.

“L-Liondancer?!” You cry out, the scene making little sense as the cute, sweet Sua'ni rips open your jacket with his teeth. You've only ever seen him at his dancing shows, but since when has he turned rabid?! “Get off!”

Lingyang shakes his head, and spits directly between your eyes. His saliva trickles down your nose and he smears it over your face, the clear fluid growing tacky as the air hits it and you struggle with your hands around his wrist. No amount of throwing your head back and forth to escape him bears any fruit. He inhales deeply against your skin for his ears to prick at the familiar smell, and it occurs to you that he's scenting you, as if you're a female lion he's intent on boning like an animal.

Only when he starts prying your legs apart do you notice what's hanging between his–the dancer is naked from the neck down, skin flushed and dark with heat, and his cock jumps at the pitch of your whiny mewls as he drags his fingers down the mound between your thighs. It's so hard and ruddy it's purplish, clearly in need for stimulation if his desperate pawing wasn't enough of an indication. Despite your insistence on pushing him away, Lingyang humps his way up your thigh just to pierce a hole in your pants as he rips them open at the seams.

“Q-Quit it!” You squeal in a hushed tone, and throw a sideways glance in several directions to try and pinpoint if anyone is watching this unfold. Apparently your lack of attention paid to him is irritating, since he soon bashes your hips with a mean-sounding grunt and wiggles the tip through the hole in your pants. “Hey! Down!” Desperate, you try to appeal to his animal instincts, but they're exactly what's working against you. Lingyang's eyes start to roll backwards as he manages to wriggle against your clit, and when a jolt of your hips catches him on the cleft of your soaked lips, he heaves out a generous sigh as he sinks downward and you're left at the mercy of his strength. Your hands smacking and slapping at his toned biceps to get him off just end up making more noise, they don't deter him in the slightest. If anything, your participation just makes him more manic as he rucks your hips up and starts pummeling you with deep, harsh thrusts in the grass, your behind completely lifted off the ground for him to plow as he pleases.

“Ah! Aah, ah–” His moans are breathy, sharp, each one punctuating an aggressive buck of his hips that highlights the deep bruises he's indenting on your waist from his thumbs digging in. Although he's skinny he's still strong, and despite gliding inside you with ease, you still notice the hitch of his shaft on your entrance through every pump of his rigorous assault. He's growing a knot. It's about to plump up if you don't stop this, and then you'll really be in trouble, but how can you?

Lingyang…clearly needs it, after all. He pounced on you without asking, but he's in an altered state of mind, isn't he? The poor beast can barely string a sentence together with his tongue lolling out like that, drooling and dribbling all over your neck while he kisses down the valley between your jiggling breasts. The harder he thrusts, the more engorged it becomes, and he starts whining through his teeth when he drops your hips and climbs on top of you to seek better leverage on your body. You find yourself looping your legs around his slim hips, which only makes it more violating to feel him lean forward and slump down to pin your legs off the grass, your knees spread nice and wide to give him unfettered breeding access to that nice, tight hole. His sandal-clad feet slide over the dewy grass as he attempts to get a stable position over you, but he soon relents and holds up one foot right by your hip to get in deep like he wants.

“Unh, nghhh-! Breed!” He growls a hair's length from your lips, eyes wild before he shuts them and squeezes them closed. “Get pregnant, get pregnant–breed! Bond to me!” He roars, his teeth clamping down on your ear before he manages to wrench your head aside, and shoves your cheek into the dirt as he latches his fangs into the soft, delicate pulse point of your neck. The muffled moans that fill the air are satisfied ones then, Lingyang's heartbeat pounding against your chest as he fights to bury himself down to the hilt inside you, until his sack rests swollen and heavy against your poor, abused slit. It tightens up against you, you feel a spasm deep within, and then…oh, the knot starts to swell. You put up a struggle but Lingyang seems keen to stop that resistance before it festers, and digs his teeth in deeper for you to tense up and finally submit.

“S-Stuck..” Your whimpers weakly echo through the forest. The beast-boy just laughs while he extracts his teeth from your flesh, leaving behind a deep mark that will bruise and form two perfect, warding scars of his mouth right on your pulse. It's true–with a gentle wiggle of his hips, Lingyang grins at his glance down to see your bodies smushed against each other's, the swollen knot locked in place and bulging slightly as he tries to unlatch it.

“Mhm.” He nods. His ears twitch in time with the side-to-side flicks of his tail behind him. “Get pregnant. Mh. Want pretty babies, okay?” Your hips jump as he tugs back painfully, only to slot his body up against yours with a deep, content sigh as he presses you down and drags the engorged bulb lower down into your stomach. His hand grasps yours to weakly pull it up towards his head–you ruffle his hair, and Lingyang finally relaxes completely on top of you as the proverbial cork pops, and a rush of hot cum sears your womb as it floods into you. He's frustratedly smashed your cervix open just to pump you full of seed, and now, he looks like he couldn't be more at ease. Head tucked happily into your neck, tail swishing, ears twitching, content moans spilling into your mouth as he kisses you…and no force on earth strong enough to extract him from you, now that he's found his new mate.

#lingyang #lingyang x reader #lingyang wuwa #wuthering waves #spicy writing #ellie writes #1k

29 notes · View notes

moonchildxoxx · 2 days ago

Text

The Gift of a Tiny Life

A/N: You are responsible for your own media consumption. MDNI 18+ warning: a child lost off scene, child loss being spoken of, Cross Nursing of an infant? a good amount of anguish and cute moments

Pairing: Tsu’teyx Female!Reader, Spider x Mom! Reader

Word count:5,305K

Synopsis: Tsutey and the reader take Spider away from the human's neglect. They wind up adopting him after the loss of their own infant.

[ Request are open]

Master List

Rules

Tsu'tey had been a warrior next in line to be Olo'eyktan. You would never see him with his hands empty for he was always doing something. He taught the young hunters and helped his fellow clan members with menial tasks to lessen their burdens. This was something he did on his path to becoming Olo'eyktan to help his people and continued once he became Olo’eyktan. (Y/N) tried to track him down all morning to force him to take a break and eat. (Y/N) finally found him at midday The mighty warrior was teaching the young hunters how to throw spears accurately. He was giving them an impromptu lesson when he felt eyes on him and noticed her.

He didn't say anything, only raised a brow as if asking 'Do you need something, yawne?*. "Finish your lesson then you are going to grab a break and eat " she spoke out loud it was not heard to read her mate. He watched as she gave him a stern look and almost smiled. However, he was still in the middle of a lesson so he kept himself in check. He dismissed his students who walked off to hang out with one another.

He walked up to her and looked down at her. The corners of his lips threatened to curl into a smile. "I thought you would still be sleeping." She smacked him one "Do not think I didn't hear you sneak out of our marui before dawn " A faint flush appeared on Tsu'tey's face at being smacked. He raised a brow as she spoke. He chuckled softly as he rubbed the spot where she hit him."I did not think you had heard me." He said before giving his typical amused smile at her. “You always step on the creaky step when leaving " He let out a huff, shaking his head. Then he placed his hands on your hips and lowered his head, bringing his face close to yours as he leaned down.

"You know I could not sleep because I had too much to do. I would have come to bed, but I did not want to wake you, yawne." "You need sleep like everyone else Tsu'tey you did not have early patrol you had no reason to leave so early" He smiled at her "Don't worry; I've been meaning to eat for a while now."

He'd finished what he was doing. When he was ready to eat, he came back towards her. She gave him the pouch filled with various things. Tsu'tey took it with a grateful smile. It was a shame she had to be his caretaker but he was glad she did it. he pulled out its contents and started eating, breaking a bit to give some to her. "What about you? Do not tell me you did not bring anything for yourself. "Mawey ma Tsu'tey I've already eaten that's why I know you didn't " Tsu'tey stared at her for a few moments. How he had wished to argue with her but she was always one step ahead of him. Still...he liked that. He was more focused on the food now. "Then I suppose I should thank you," he said as he ate.

She nuzzled him Tsu'tey was surprised at her action as he had not expected it. He set his food down to wrap an arm around her. "you're too good to me, yawntutsyip." “Nonsense ma tsamsiyu” she retorted "You will spoil me if you continue," he joked with a smile, rubbing her arm with his calloused hands. He leaned closer in a show of affection as his face hovered near hers. She kissed his cheek. He seemed pleased by that action. He tilted his head in an attempt to get her to kiss him on the lips but of course, that proved to be futile. "You could not kiss me on the lips just this once?" He teased, a coy smile on his face. “Finish your food” He chuckled, knowing he wouldn't be able to convince her otherwise. He released a sigh before he returned to eating his food. " you are a demanding one, yawne," he teased, using the affectionate nickname he gave her. Once he finished his food and the pouch was empty of its contents, he leaned back and gave a satisfied sigh “There Satisfied now, yawne?" He teased as he looked up at her.

She kissed him gently. He was surprised that she had kissed him even when he least expected her to follow through. The contact of their lips caused his heart to speed up, and his breath to get caught in his throat. When she pulled away, he gently pulled her closer to him with a hand on her waist. "you're going to give me an early death." He teased, still breathless from that kiss. He continued to hold her close to him, his grip on her waist tightening. It took all of his willpower not to take her then and there. But they were out in the open. "You are a tease." He accused as he gently nuzzled her. She nuzzled him back. Tsu'tey pulled her into his lap, wrapping an arm around her to hold her close. He nuzzled her neck, a small growl escaping him. "We are not in the safety of our tent, yawne. You need to stop teasing me." She kissed him softly. Tsu'tey's breath hitched when she kissed him again, pulling her closer to him. His tail flicked back and forth, his hands finding the bare skin underneath her top. " you are not being very fair to me," he murmured against her lips. She went to answer but suddenly stopped her ears twitching. Tsu'tey noticed her ears twitch which made him stop as well.

He could easily tell something was wrong. He sat up, keeping her on his lap still but looking around for whatever it was that worried her. “Do you hear that?" Tsu'tey tried to listen and figure out what it was in question. But all he heard were the ambient noises of Pandora. "I cannot hear anything," he said, furrowing his brows. "What could you hear?" “ It sounds like a baby crying" His ears twitched as he tried to listen again for the sound of a crying baby. To his surprise, he heard the faint sound of a baby's cry. "you're right," he said in disbelief. "I wonder how we can hear it from this far away."

"A baby should not be crying that loud, we're far from the village" That was strange. He understood that the baby was crying loudly enough for them to hear it from a distance. But how far from the village was it? Where was it coming from? "Maybe it is in trouble," he said. "It does not hurt for us to look for it and make sure it is safe." She nodded getting up. Tsu'tey got up with her, taking her hand so they could stick together. He led the way out of the jungle, trying to follow where the sound of the baby's cry was coming from. (Y/N) kept following the sound it eventually led to Hell’s Gate Tsu'tey was getting an uneasy feeling the further they walked from the village. The crying had gotten louder which meant they were close. But when he saw that it had led them to Hell's Gate, Tsu'tey couldn't help but freeze. “Mo'at moved all the injured to the new village "

It then dawned on Tsu'tey as he came to realize that the crying must have been from not one of their own. He gave (Y/N)'s hand a squeeze and turned to her. "We should head back." She shook her head no and moved forward Tsu'tey watched her as she moved forward against his better judgment. He could not stop her, not when the path was set before her. So with a small huff, he followed after her.

She walked towards the human base ignoring those allowed to stay when they sent the sky people back. Tsu'tey followed her into the human base and looked around in disgust. It was nothing but an abomination to Eywa to have this thing here. He could not understand why (Y/N) was adamant about coming here but he kept close to her.

She went through the doors following the sounds. The sounds led them to the human's infirmary and there they saw the human scientists, and more importantly, a baby that was wailing its head off, in a human baby crib. Tsu'tey knew now why the baby was crying so loudly to the point they could hear it from afar. (Y/N)’s ears folded back completely she looked around to see why the scientists were just ignoring the infant. Tsu'tey noticed (Y/N)'s ears fold back and he too looked to see no humans bothering with the infant who was crying like they didn't care.

"What are these people doing?" He grumbled in disbelief. (Y/N) placed her hand on its little body her hand so large that it covered its whole torso. The baby instantly stopped crying the moment she touched its body. It was silent now and looked at it with big eyes. Tsu'tey walked closer to the both of them, hovering over (Y/N). Seeing the child stop crying so quickly when she touched it was impressive. She clicked gently at the little one. The infant turned towards the clicking, a look of curiosity on its little face now that it had calmed down. Tsu'tey watched the interaction between her and the infant, a small sense of awe taking over him. She lifted it from the cradle. (Y/N) picked up the infant and carried it in her arms like a mother would Cradle her child. The baby instantly

made itself comfortable in her arms, even snuggling into her chest. She sniffed at the little one inspecting. The infant started to babble, moving its little hands as (Y/N) inspected it. It made grabby motions at her, probably seeking affection.

She got close to its lower half and immediately pulled away face scrunching up.

(Y/N)'s reaction caught Tsu'tey off guard. He was surprised to see her making that kind of face. "What is it?" He inquired, getting closer to her. "It's dirty" That was when Tsu'tey's sensitive nose picked up the foul smell and he grimaced. "I assume the humans left the infant in its filth?" He said tasteful look in his eyes.

(Y/N) hissed taking back the infant and left deciding to clean it herself. Tsu'tey watched her take the infant and head outside, with him following after her. Outside, Tsu'tey could see her take the infant to a river to dunk it in the water to fully clean it. She stripped the infant and cleaned it, The infant made surprised noises at being suddenly dunked in the water and instantly the filth washed away.

Now that the infant was fully clean, (Y/N) brought it back out of the water in her arms, dripping wet. "Much better," she murmured. Tsu'tey nodded in agreement. At least now the infant no longer reeks of its filth. But seeing the little one now clean and being held by her in such a motherly way, he was having very strange thoughts.

(Y/N) smiled looking at him " your such a cutie" Tsu'tey was snapped out of his thoughts when she said that. He tried to maintain a straight face but a small flush dusted his cheeks at her words. " Me? Or are you saying that to the infant?" "I'm talking to the baby Skawng your face is too ugly for that" Tsu'tey gave her a look of mock offense. "you wound me," he said in a falsely hurt tone. "You think my face is too ugly for that and the baby is more attractive than me?" "you look like you got whacked by the ugly stick you can't compare yourself to this look at his little face " (Y/N) held the baby underneath his arms he was busy sucking on his fist "Thanks for the encouragement," Tsu'tey said sarcastically as he looked down at the infant to see it sucking on its fist.

He was silently envious of the baby. "Yes, yes, that little infant is so adorable. What with its little face and tiny hands. Nothing like me..." As he said that, he couldn't help but glance at her once again. The way she held the infant in her arms. The way she seemed so motherly to it, despite being so young herself and just recently having experienced a loss. And that brought those strange thoughts back into his head once more. She laughed "You hear that little one"

Tsu'tey's face flushed once again at being teased. He crossed his arms, trying to look offended. The infant made some incoherent noises, still sucking on his little fist. The infant stopped sucking momentarily and looked up at (Y/N) with big eyes. Tsu'tey couldn't help but watch the infant. He still had those strange thoughts in his head, and it only got worse when the infant made a baby sound as it reached out to touch her. She picked up the baby. The infant was content at being in her arms once again. Tsu'tey observed them silently, his hands clenching and unclenching as he felt a strange feeling in his chest. One that was unfamiliar to him. The infant made some more baby sounds, its little hands grabbing onto the fabric of her top as it snuggled into her chest. Tsu'tey felt his heart skip a beat at the sight of it.

The infant nuzzled into her so comfortably, like it was the most natural thing in the world. She smiled at this "You are such a precious little thing" she cooed "Yes you are stupid sky people don't know what they are missing" Tsu'tey agreed with her, the infant seemed to be so tiny and fragile. And it was a shame that the humans were so careless about it. "Yes, it is a shame that this little one was left in its filth. What cruel creatures the humans are," he muttered. She turned the baby so he could see

Tsu'tey better Tsu'tey found himself looking into the baby's big eyes as it was now facing him. The infant seemed to be studying him, a look of curiosity now as it stopped suckling its fist. Tsu'tey felt a mixture of emotions as he looked into the little one's eyes. It was so innocent and pure, completely unaware of the world around it. He felt a strange sense of protectiveness, suddenly wanting to keep it safe and sound.

The infant made another incomprehensible baby sound, his little hand reaching out once more to grab at his hand. Tsu'tey instinctively held out his hand to the infant, feeling a small sense of awe as its tiny fingers wrapped around his much larger finger.

"How long do you think before the scientists come for him?" Tsu'tey's eyes darkened at the mention of the scientists. He let out a huff and gently pulled his finger away from the infant's grip. "I wouldn't doubt they'll come back for it soon. They likely have no idea how to take care of it anyway."

*It took a few days before the humans noticed that the baby was missing *

Norm Spellman one of Jake Sully's friends radioed Jake in a panic to tell him When Jake heard Norm's voice on the radio, full of panic, he immediately knew something was wrong. He picked up the radio and spoke into it, his voice slightly anxious. "Norm, what's going on?" Norm's voice on the other end sounded frantic and panicked. "Jake, something's come up. You know the baby we were taking care of?" Jake's heart dropped and a sense of dread filled his chest. "Yes, I remember. What about the baby, Norm?" he asked, his voice now tinged with concern. "Well, it's uh... it's gone," Norm said, his voice growing even more panicked as he spoke. "We don't know what happened, it was here one moment then the next it's just gone. We can't find it anywhere"

Jake's eyes widened in disbelief. How could the baby just disappear like that? It made no sense. "What do you mean it's gone? There's no way it could have just vanished into thin air." Norm's voice sounded even more panicked now. "I know! It's completely insane, we've been searching all over the base, but there's no sign of it anywhere. We don't know what could have happened t to it" Jake pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to think logically. "Okay, calm down, Norm. We'll figure this out. But first, I need you to tell me everything that happened before the infant disappeared. Any clues could be important." "Right. Well, everything was normal up until we checked on the baby about an hour ago. It was just gone. The crib was empty, and the baby was nowhere to be seen," Norm said, his voice still filled with panic.

Jake decided that he would let Tsu'tey know about the situation at Hell's Gate before going over to help, Jake made his way to Tsu'tey's hut, his mind still preoccupied with the situation at hand. When he reached the entrance, he called out to him. "Brother, can I speak to you for a moment?" Tsu'tey, who had been inside his hut, heard Jake's voice and quickly stepped out to greet him. "Jake, what is it?" he asked, sensing the serious tone in his voice. Jake took a deep breath before speaking, his eyes filled with worry.

"Something's happened at Hell's Gate," he said. "The infant we were looking after, it's gone. We have no idea what happened to it, and the humans are freaking out."

Tsu'tey moved back the tent flap revealing the rest of his tent and towards the back was (Y/N) with the human baby sleeping "That Infant?" Tsutey spoke Jake's eyes widened as he saw the infant being held in (Y/N)'s arms, and he stepped forward to get a closer look. "Is that...? But how..." Tsu'tey blocked his path "When did your scientist realize it was missing?" Jake was about to object to Tsu'tey's behavior, but the serious look on his face made him decide to answer instead. "About an hour ago. They were doing routine checks on it, but when they checked again just now, it was gone." " That's not possible Jake Sully she's had it for three days " Jake stared at (Y/N), his mind trying to process what he had just heard. "What do you mean? You've had it for three whole days? And the humans at Hell's Gate only just realized?" " His cries could be heard from far we found it in your demon home ignored soiled and starving" Jake was taken aback once again.

He knew that the scientists at Hell's Gate didn't care much for the infant, but to completely ignore it to the point where it was starving and filthy? It was unthinkable.

"I... l had no idea. I thought the scientists were taking proper care of it," Jake said, his voice laced with disbelief. Tsu'tey huffed, his expression darkening at the thought of the infant being neglected. "It seems like the humans cared more about their experiments than this little one," he said gruffly. Jake couldn't argue with Tsu'tey's words. The fact that humans could let an innocent infant suffer like that was maddening. Jake looked relieved that the baby had been taken care of, but he was still troubled by the situation at hand. "This is all good news, but we still have to deal with the humans at Hell's Gate.

They're going to want the infant back, and they're not going to be happy to know that she has it." Tsu'tey crossed his arms, his expression darkening even further.

"Let them come if they wish. We will not hand over the infant to their care. Not after what they've done." Jake knew that Tsu'tey was protective of (Y/N) and wasn’t about to take away the infant now after what she had suffered, but he also knew that the situation was precarious. " you can't just keep it hidden away forever." Tsu'tey crossed his arms, a determined look in his eyes. "Let them be unhappy. This infant was left starving and neglected in their care. We won't let them have it back. And if you need to be reminded we let them stay on the condition that they follow the boundaries we set they follow the Omatikaya way the infant will not be returned to them on the word from the Olo'eyktan "Jake sighed, knowing that Tsu'tey was as stubborn as ever when he made his mind up about something.

"I understand where you're coming from, But we have to think about the potential consequences of our actions. This could cause tension between the clan and the humans." "The humans will learn to deal with it," Tsu'tey said with a huff. "The infant will be much safer under our care than theirs. And if they have an issue with that, they can take it up with me." Tsu'tey closed the flap making it clear that this discussion was over

Jake stood there for a moment, feeling conflicted about the situation. He understood Tsu'tey's stance on the matter, but he couldn't help but worry about the potential fallout. However, he knew that he couldn't change Tsu'tey's mind once he had made a decision. With a heavy sigh, he turned and exited the tent, his mind still filled with conflicted thoughts.

(Y/N) looked up as Tsu'tey returned the baby still in her arms Tsu'tey noticed (Y/N) looking up at him, her arms still cradling the infant. He moved closer to her, his eyes scanning over the infant to make sure it was still content. "How is the little one?" he asked, his voice surprisingly softer than usual. She smiled up at him Tsu'tey couldn't help but notice the smile on her face. He huffed quietly, pretending not to be bothered by it. "What are you smiling about?" he asked gruffly. (Y/N) chuckled, used to Tsu'tey's gruff demeanor by now. "just admiring this little one," she said, running a gentle hand over the infant's head. The baby gurgled in response, its tiny hands flailing in mid-air. Tsu'tey's gaze softened slightly as he watched the interaction between (Y/N) and the infant. Despite his rough exterior, he couldn't deny the warm feeling blossoming in his chest. He quietly moved closer, sitting down beside (Y/N). They sat in silence for a moment, Tsu'tey's gaze fixated on the infant. The baby was now looking up at him, its eyes wide and curious. Tsu'tey found himself drawn to the innocent gaze, and he reached out a trembling hand, hesitating for a moment before gently touching the infant's soft hair. The baby gurgled in response, its eyes locking onto Tsu'tey's fingers. Tsu'tey couldn't help but be enchanted by the infant's reaction, his gruff demeanor momentarily vanishing as he continued to caress its tiny head. (Y/N) watched the scene unfold before her, a small smile playing on her lips. Seeing Tsu'tey, who was normally so stern and unforgiving, show such tenderness was heartwarming to witness. (Y/N) nuzzled him purring Tsu'tey felt a warm shiver run down his spine as (Y/N) nuzzled against him, her purrs filling his ears. Despite his usual tough persona, he couldn't resist the affectionate gesture. He let out a low rumble of contentment in response, feeling his guard slipping further.

The baby in (Y/N)'s arms seemed to notice their display of affection and let out a soft coo, its tiny hands reaching out towards them. Tsu'tey chuckled, gently taking one of the baby's little hands in his much larger one. As he held the baby's hand, Tsu'tey couldn't help but feel a sense of protectiveness wash over him. This tiny, defenseless creature was under their care, and he was determined to do everything in his power to ensure its safety. He looked up at (Y/N), his eyes filled with a mixture of awe and tenderness. (Y/N) couldn't help but laugh as well, the sight of Tsu'tey holding the baby's hand was something she never thought she'd see. She leaned her head against his shoulder, reveling in the tender moment they were sharing. Tsu'tey couldn't help but grumble a little at (Y/N)'s laughter, but there was no real irritation behind it. He shifted slightly so that (Y/N)'s head fitted more comfortably on his shoulder. The baby in her arms made a soft gurgling sound, seemingly enjoying the warmth and comfort of their Presence.

Tsu'tey glanced down at the baby, his usual stoic expression softening even more. It was odd, the way this tiny creature had managed to worm its way into his heart. He gently stroked its little head with his fingertips, a rare display of tenderness from the fierce warrior. There was a comfortable silence between them as they sat there, the baby gurgling softly in (Y/N)'s arms. Tsu'tey continued to caress the baby's head, his thoughts filled with a mixture of emotions he couldn't fully understand. "Are you hungry little one" The baby let out another gurgle in response to (Y/N)'s question, its tiny hands reaching out towards her. Tsu'tey watched the exchange, a soft huff of amusement escaping his lips. She lifted the little one Tsu'tey watched as (Y/N) lifted the baby, its tiny limbs flailing in mid-air. He couldn't help the slight worry that crept into his mind. "Be careful," he grumbled, his protective instincts kicking in. (Y/N) chuckled at Tsu'tey's concern but assured him, "Don't worry, I've got this." She cradled the baby against her chest, feeling its tiny body warm against hers. The baby snuggled closer, its little hands clenching onto (Y/N)'s shirt.

"I still have milk I can feed him " she whispered out to Tsu'tey as he reached for the drinking vessel with a thick milk-like substance. Though the loss was still fresh and a painful memory it was a reality she still had milk to feed the human infant

Tsu'tey's expression darkens as (Y/N) mentions her milk. He can't help but remember her previous pregnancy and the loss of their child. But he also can't help but appreciate her compassion and willingness to care for the infant, even with the painful memory attached to it. "You don't have to," he mumbled, not wanting her to force herself through the pain if she wasn't ready. But deep down, he knew that (Y/N) was stronger than she let on. "

This won’t change what was lost, Tsu'tey at least a baby is benefiting from it" Tsu'tey's expression softened as (Y/N) spoke. He knew that she was right and that this infant needed care and nutrition. But he still couldn't shake the worry he felt for her well-being. "You're sure?" he asked, his voice gruff but laced with concern. "I know," she replied softly. "But it feels right to do this. It's the least I can do for the little one. And..." she paused, Tsu'tey noticed the pause in her voice and cocked his head slightly. "And what?" he prompted gently, his eyes still fixed on her. (Y/N) took a deep breath before continuing, her voice barely above a whisper. "And it's selfish but it makes me feel a little less...empty." She spoke the word with quiet vulnerability, revealing a hint of the pain she still held inside. Tsu'tey's heart ached as (Y/N) spoke her truth, the raw vulnerability in her voice making his chest tighten. He knew firsthand how devastating the loss was, and how it left an emptiness that seemed impossible to fill. He moved closer to her, his instincts to comfort and protect her resurfacing. "You're not selfish," he said firmly, his voice rough but gentle. "You're strong, (Y/N). Stronger than anyone else could be."He reached out, gently taking one of her hands in his. His large, calloused hand dwarfed hers, but his touch was light and careful. He gently ran his thumb across her knuckles, a silent show of solidarity and comfort. "Besides," he added, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, "the little one is lucky to have you looking after it. Your heart's always been too big for your own good." (Y/N) let out a soft chuckle at Tsu'tey's teasing. Despite his gruff exterior, he had a way of knowing exactly what to say.

She squeezed his hand gently in response, appreciating his attempt to lighten the mood. The baby in (Y/N)'s arms began to make soft whimpering noises, drawing their attention back to the infant's hunger. Tsu'tey looked down at the baby, his expression softening. "You should feed it," he said, his voice low. "It's still hungry."

(Y/N) nodded, shifting the baby to a comfortable position in her arms. She lifted her shirt, ready to feed the infant. Before she did, she looked up at Tsu'tey, a flicker of vulnerability in her eyes. Tsu'tey caught the vulnerability in (Y/N)'s gaze and gave her a reassuring nod. He could sense the mix of emotions she was feeling, knowing that the act of feeding the infant was a bittersweet reminder of her loss. He moved closer to her, his proximity a silent offer of support.

She tried getting the little one to latch The baby protested a little, its tiny mouth refusing to latch onto (Y/N)'s breast at first. Tsu'tey watched with a mixture of concern and amusement, silently musing at the little one's stubbornness. (Y/N), determined as always, continued to try and coax the baby to feed. She gently adjusted her position and the angle of the baby's head, trying to find the perfect position for the child to latch on. Tsu'tey watched the struggle for a moment longer before stepping in to help. He shifted closer to (Y/N), his large frame towering over hers. He gently took hold of the baby's head, his hands surprisingly gentle considering their size. With his deft touch, he guided the baby's mouth towards (Y/N)'s breast, helping the infant to get a good latch. He could feel (Y/N)'s tense muscles relax a little, grateful for his assistance. The baby, now properly latched on, began to feed greedily. (Y/N) let out a soft sigh of relief, feeling a mix of emotions welling up inside her. The act of feeding the infant was strangely soothing, even if it was a painful reminder of what she lost. Tsu'tey watched as (Y/N) fed the infant, her expression a mix of contentment and bittersweet sadness.

The baby's soft suckling noises and her gentle rocking motions created a peaceful atmosphere in the tent.

Time seemed to slow as they sat there, the world outside forgotten for that brief moment. Tsu'tey, who was usually so serious, found himself mesmerized by the scene unfolding before him. He reached out a hand, gently resting it on (Y/N)'s shoulder, his touch a silent show of support and affection. The baby eventually finished feeding, its tiny mouth releasing (Y/N)'s breast with a soft pop. (Y/N) gently maneuvered the infant, cradling it against her shoulder and softly patting its back to help it burp. Tsu'tey watched with a small smile on his face, his heart feeling strangely full. It was a sight he never thought he'd see so soon, (Y/N) being so nurturing and caring towards an infant.

43 notes · View notes

stripesysheaven · 1 year ago

Text

#dont want to make an actual post about this but im annoyed by something #fics that involve finch like. some portray his injuries are way more accurate but some are super super inaccurate #like its obvious the most pain the writer ever had was a lil back pain #as someone who has a similar injury as finch does (ironically happened years after i watched the show. its so weird to watch now)#like. its not like a twinge in your back situation #even on a good day if i do the wrong thing it feels like my bones are going to come out of my skin #the feeling of something being Deeply Wrong #the entire reason i workout so much is so i can gain mobility back #if i stop working out the pain gets so bad i can barely walk #at least i dont walk with a limp anymore what the fuck #its just. some fics really dont get it jxbzbxhxhhx #like i get you want to have fun in the fic and not be limited by stuff like that #but some things they write are literally impossible #in the one i read finch helped someone off the ground #yeah that’s impossible im sorry hzhzjxhxj h #the amount of hip you need to do something like that #you just can’t #someone mentioned in the tags of a gifset of finch picking up the baby in a scene of the actual show #that he never would have been able to do that. and honestly yeah they’re right. even if he could he would have struggled way more #just. yeah. yeah Jhxhxhxhxhhxhxjuxhxjxh #i’ll still continue that fic as soon as ao3 is secure again but yeah hxhhxhxhxh #my posts #tags

5 notes · View notes

carebearbussy · 3 months ago

Text

𝙨𝙖𝙡𝙩𝙮 & 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙩

ᥫ᭡ 𝙨𝙮𝙥𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨: 𝙞𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝… 𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙪𝙣𝙖𝙨 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙣𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙬𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙜𝙚𝙩𝙨 𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙘𝙧𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨.

ᥫ᭡ 𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙖𝙣 𝙚𝙧𝙖! 𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙪𝙣𝙖 𝙭 𝙛𝙚𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚! 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

ᥫ᭡ 𝙘𝙬: 𝙋𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙛𝙡𝙪𝙛𝙛 <3

ᥫ᭡ 𝙬𝙘: 1.3k

𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙖 𝙨𝙚𝙚 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙨 𝙢𝙮 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

Your cravings have been going wild.

Ever since you had fallen pregnant by an absolute gargantuan of a man, you are forced to carry twice the amount of nutrients and food stored in your body. The local doctors had recommended that your usual meals be doubled in size, in order to support the extra weight it carried by having a child under Sukuna. And even Sukuna had chimed in, adding that maybe his diet would work for you. But you quickly declined the offer, taking into consideration the life growing inside of you. You did not want your child to grow up to be a cannibalistic monster, much like his father.

But your food choices have been much more bizarre as of lately. Things ranging from huge one course meals that could feed a family of 7, pickled everything, anything covered in cheese, and any regular foods you ate had to be made a specific way, or served in larger portions. Which is why you had decided to wake Sukuna up in the middle of the night, one of the cravings you had pondered on being at the top of your to do list.

Every now and then, your cravings would get really bad. To the point where it was now everybody else's problem. But you truly couldn't help it.

"Kuna, 'Kuna wake up!" You whispered, as you lay spooned beside him. You shook his body from behind you as you spoke, making sure he could hear you. You felt him stretch awake with a low groan, letting you free of his grasp. "Are you awake? Its important..." you ask, awaiting a response out of him. And to your avail, he is awake, but not with the attitude you were initially hoping for. He seemed annoyed that his rest had been interrupted, but those concerns were to be put to rest, as you stepped out of bed, sliding your slippers on by the edge of the bed. He looks at your standing form with half lidded eyes, clearly making the first of many signals of his annoyance with you at the moment.

"What is so important that you wake me from my rest, woman? Im giving you six seconds to speak." He says, as he props himself upwards, sitting at the edge of the bed. With you standing near him, he seizes your hips with his lower set of hands, forcing you into his proximity. "I'm not waiting all day." He ushers you on to speak, but as you think about his possible answer, you start to rethink telling him what you truly want. You look away, clearly starting to get nervous with the attention. But as you do, he grabs your chin, forcing you to look down at him, as he searches for answers. "Go on."

"Well... i've been having cravings lately, and I wanted to know if maybe the kitchen could make me something..." You say, fiddling with your thumbs, as you feel your stomach start to growl lowly. He looks down at your stomach, as you quietly protest his decision to be made. He closes his eyes for a couple seconds, before responding.

"If this is what you really need, then I will indulge this once, brat." He says with a low sigh, as he lets go of his hold on your waist, getting up from his spot on the bed. You look up at him eagerly, silently squealing to yourself as you jump up and down slightly. You wrap your arms around your husbands neck, as you reach up on your tiptoes to pepper kisses all over his defined face. He looks down at your cheerful form, looking unaffected by the attention you give him, but deep down is smiling on the inside. He knows that as long as you stay his sweet, happy wife, then he can get a good nights rest after this.

He picks you up by the back of your thighs, as you are lifted off the ground what seems suddenly. He hoists you on his left side, one hand holding your ass up, the other acting as a back rest. Letting yourself be carried, he opens the door with his right hand, walking into the large hallway to your favorite place since becoming pregnant, the kitchen.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

It seemed as if you had started a national crisis.

With the way you had Uraume, as well as a team of the estates chefs working like dogs in the kitchen. All that could be heard from the upper left wing of the estate was the clinking and clanging of pots and pans, as well as chefs scurrying to prepare the food you had requested. Because it was well known that any request of yours, was to be taken as seriously as if it were from Sukuna.

Uraume seemed to be the only calm one, with them being used to your shenanigans. They were the head of the kitchen, as they lead all of the preparations for the 'big feast', as they like to call it. That big feast being for your pregnant self, of course.

As the kitchen was torn shred by shred trying to prepare you the perfect dish, you stood by the entrance and watched, one hand on your stomach. Standing besides you was Sukuna, with lower arms crossed, as his upper arms conducted the kitchen staff with whats right and wrong. Your eyes lit up with excitement, as you watched all of these people cater to your needs.

"Kuna, how about... chocolate filled dumplings?" You asked, looking up at your focused husband. He was busy keeping an eye on everything, making sure not to mess up your multiple requests you had made in the past twenty minutes. He looks at you with upper set of eyes, his lower ones hyper focused on the kitchen staff.

"That sounds disgusting. But if that is what you wish, so be it." He tells you, scoffing at all of the ridiculous things you had said so far. He then watches as Uraume heads your way, a silver platter in hand, holding what seemed to be at least thirty pieces of bacon, covered in chocolate and sea salt. To any sane person, this would look downright vile. But to you? Sukuna watched as your mouth practically dropped. You squealed in excitement, looking at the dish in hand. "Please enjoy, my lady." Uraume says, still holding out the dish to you as you happily devour it.

But you pause as you look over at Sukuna, still looking down at you. And thats when a lightbulb flicks in your head. You grab a piece of bacon from the tray, as you step in front of Sukuna. He looks down at you, wondering what you're up to, when you reach up on your tippy toes to try and pry open his mouth. "Pleaseeee try it!" You say, pouting your lips, still trying to open his mouth with your fingers. He looks down at you as he furrows his eyebrows, curling his lip upwards. "No, that is repulsive."

Your pout lowers into a full frown, your eyes glossy with the want for him to try what you are offering him. He rolls his eyes, as he picks up the piece of bacon you are holding with two fingers. He looks at it, as he scoffs, swallowing it in one go. "See! Its good right?" You ask him, a smile crossing your face. He looks at you with a 'are you serious?' look, before ruffling your hair, amused with how happy you were that he divulged you.

"It was horrible. Never again are you going to make me do these kinds of things for you, brat."

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .

#sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #heian sukuna #heian era sukuna #heian sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x Charlotte #heian #heian era #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x Charlotte #jjk smut #sukuna fluff

6K notes · View notes

tinystarbites · 2 months ago

Text

accidents | Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: during a long case away, Spencer accidentally sees Reader's nudes on her phone and can't cope because he is a MESS for reader whoops [5.5k]

Warnings: SMUT MDNI, 18+ only, fem!reader, fluff, some angst mainly Spencer doubting himself aww :(, Spencer is PINING for you hard (haha get it), nudes, Spencer loves you so much, pls someone give him a hug, m!masturbation, talk about sex, proofread but prolly not perfect lol, like you aren't probably ready for the amount of longing in this, *slaps Spencer* this bad boy can fit so much pining and yearning

read pt.II here

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

Spencer swears it was an accident.

You were all away on a case, somewhere in Florida. And of course, something like that can only happen in Florida, because as much as he dislikes connecting random events with random locations, non-sequitur fallacy and all that, he cannot not say that many of his most embarrassing moments aren’t attributable to the south-eastern state. (He will not elaborate on these moments, he very much likes to keep most of his dignity still intact, thank you very much.)

But his dignity isn’t really the only thing that had been shattered to pieces by… by the accident. Far from it really and it- well, it- God, this really won’t end well for him, will it? He’s well and truly, as Emily likes to say, fucked.

It happened on the fourth day he and the team were cooped up in a small, dingy police station, chasing down an unsub that liked to paint intricate body art on the victim’s corpses as part of his MO. Aside from, y’know, slitting their throats with what seemed to be an old, rusty saw. The paradoxical duality of these two aspects, of the interplay of carefulness and diligence put into the painting process and the absolute careless way the unsub ends his victims was fascinating really – but not as much as it is disturbing, still.

Thus, this case is a very photography-heavy one. Most of the cases they solve involve photographs of some kinds of course, but Spencer has never sat in front of quite as many pictures of art and gore in his life before. It was strange, to say the least, even to him. Strange and annoying, to be honest.

Because Spencer isn’t exactly fond of all things that come with some electrical inner life, i.e. smartphones, his old brick of a phone isn’t exactly helpful for this case. He still feels the need to roll his eyes at Garcia after she, for the umpteenth time, called him an old grandpa and his phone a potato trying to pass as a phone. And failing miserably, especially when looking at the pictures it takes and their quality. Well, Penelope would say “pictures”, because she would also say that a resolution of beneath 60 PPI should be considered a war crime against modern technology, but Spencer doesn’t know and doesn’t want to know what that even means, so. Jokes on her.

Well, actually, the joke is on him. And yes, he knows, the joke is almost always on him, he knows his pipe-cleaner physique and too big eyes and long hair and everything about him really, makes him the perfect target for the occasional bullying he gets still as an adult, but he’s used to that. It’s normal, part of his everyday life. He can deal with that (more or less).

What he so brilliantly cannot deal with however, is having you around him almost 24/7. Because Hotch had had the amazing idea of fixing you to his hip as his personal photographer to circumvent his technological potato-problem. Uh- not that you, that you take pictures of him, why would you ever do that, but more like, taking pictures for him. Of their victims. And the body art.

Spencer was actually waiting for your protest, because there seems to be nothing worse for you than to stay inside the office when you could be out there, on the fields, in midst of all the action. Where Spencer usually isn’t. But that’s fine of course. Completely, absolutely fine. Spencer doesn’t look up every time the door to the tiny room he’s set up his camp in opens to see if it’s you bringing him another coffee just the way he likes, if it’s your smile that will make him feel more energized than any overly sweet coffee ever could. If it’s your voice and smell and aura (Penelope is definitely getting into his head) that for the short while you are there, makes everything seem so much more manageable.

It’s an energy burst unlike any other and Spencer is aware of what that means, so aware his body burns with it sometimes… Often. Okay, fine, most of the time. He just prefers to ignore it and enjoy the precarious friendship he built with you for what it is because he just likes to have you around so very much and – this was so not the point he wanted to make. He’s hopeless, when it comes to you, and it really is kind of embarrassing.

So, this is why the joke is so entirely on him that it’s not even a joke anymore. It’s basically bullying, he feels bullied. Because you actually had beamed the prettiest smile he’s ever seen at him, said ‘Oh finally, I can unpack all the dark hidden talents from within me’ which was so cryptic but so you and then you also winked at him. And well, Spencer has to lie if he were to say that he was being totally normal about this. That you didn’t just upheave his insides like an earthquake of magnitude eight with a single wink. Oh, he’s in so much trouble.

The first two days the two of you work side by side proceed without any unforeseen occurrences. And Spencer is so glad about that he could cry. From the moment you had joined the team two years ago, from the moment he met you, it was an undeniable fact that you were nice. Not only that, but truly, selflessly kind in a way that has left him all too choked up to even speak on multiple occasions now. The team is nice to Spencer, of course they are, they’re his family. But nothing in the entire world could have adequately prepared him to the spring of kindness you so freely distribute to anyone willing to receive it. And god, Spencer is willing. Is it every time you listen to him ramble on and on, unable to really hold his tongue despite the embarrassment clouding his cheeks darker. Is it every time you ask him about the book he’s reading, every time you ask him how his mother is doing and just- all these tiny things that add up and completely smush his brain into a fuzzy mess of warmth that leaks down his body.

He literally could spend every minute of every day just sitting next to you and soak up your presence and he would be the happiest person alive. That’s why he cherishes your friendship to him so strongly, and that’s why it’s the worst thing that Spencer is, well, himself.

He knows that you would probably be too nice to outright state that something he does unsettles you. Changes the way you think about him. Still. There is the worry. Buried so deep in his mind it’s as if he was born with it. And that’s why he’s so relieved that he is keeping the worst of the ‘Reid effect’ at bay while working with you on this twisted painter case.

It all goes well, until it doesn’t. Of course. Good things never seem to last for Spencer.

It’s already later in the afternoon on the fourth day you are working the case, no end in sight, unfortunately. Spencer is bend over the table, hands entwined in front of his mouth as he’s staring down the printed pictures of the unsub’s latest victim from three days ago. The brushstrokes seem remarkably stable, the colours uncannily vibrant. Spencer does not know much about art, but he does recognise talent when he sees it. And this unsub seems to have it in abundance. It’s almost a shame he’s a deranged killer. But oh well.

He jumps in his seat when the door to his room abruptly bangs open and a dishevelled looking you is bustling into the room.

Your expression turns apologetic. “Oh Spencer, shit, sorry. I didn’t wanna startle you, but they just found another victim.”

And oh. Spencer feels his heart sink in his chest. Guilt tugging it further down into the abyss. Why wasn’t he faster with figuring out these paintings?

“Really? Where?”

You immediately launch into a rapid-fire list of details, all in the wrong order because you do tend to be a bit all over the place. Spencer doesn’t mind. Gives him a bit more of a challenge to order the information in his brain the way it works for him. You two work surprisingly well in that regard.

While talking, you round the desk that almost takes up all the little space available in the room. You sit in the chair next to him, so close he can feel the stressed warmth radiating from you and it takes a very good portion of his brain’s capacity to stop his hand from reaching out. Or do something else even stupider. More stupid? Oh hell. It’s a wonder he can talk in complete sentences with you.

He watches you pull out your phone, fingers typing in the passcode he guessed right after two weeks of knowing you. The indignant expression on your face had been adorable. That’s why he still guesses your new passwords weekly, just to mess with you a little bit. Because he’s apparently insane like that.

“Here”, you turn the display of your phone towards him, “Precinct’s out of ink. Do you mind looking at the pictures on my phone until I come back from the store?”

This is where Spencer should have said no. Declined politely, smile on his face. Tell you that sorry, I don’t really get the same detail on screen like on a printed version. Should’ve emigrated to Tristan da Cunha, change his name to Ferdinand. Whatever. Anything, except say, “Oh, of course. That’s no trouble.”

You smile that breathtaking smile of yours, fingers touching his slightly while giving him your phone. Spencer sucks his lower lip between his teeth to keep himself from making any kind of noise at the tingly feeling skittering down his back.

He can’t not smile back at you. It’s one of his many weaknesses. Jello, trying to out-solve himself every day with New York Times’ new crossword puzzles, dairy. Halloween themed socks. Old obscure movies no one has ever heard of. Reading the most difficult books in twenty minutes. You.

Once you left, Spencer starts diligently going through the photographs of their latest victim. Not yet identified white male. Average height, average weight. Short-buzzed sandy brown hair. Striking blue eyes that seem to stare at him accusingly even after death.

He works through approximately forty pictures taken off the intricate and detailed body art. This time, the unsub left many smaller paintings woven in a bigger, overall painting. There’s still one that Spencer hasn’t seen a close up of, that’s kind of hidden behind the victim’s ears. Maybe you saved it to a different folder. He clicks around your gallery for some time, opening and closing folders full of holiday pictures. Pictures of you, smiling, at the beach. A folder full of memes that he doesn’t get but is familiar with because you keep sending them to him anyways. Spencer is aware that he probably shouldn’t have just- perused your gallery like that. But he was in case-mode. Hyper-focused on finding the next clue, on detangling the next hint that would bring them further. That would finally be the key to end this case and bring justice to all the victims.

He isn’t really thinking, when he clicks on a folder titled ‘xxx lol’. Thinks it’s another one full of memes because of the abbreviation, but maybe you accidentally saved pictures of the case in there, wouldn’t be too out of character for you and-

Spencer sucks in a breath.

Drops your phone almost as an afterthought. The noise of it clattering to the table makes him flinch.

It lands display down. Small mercies and all that.

And Spencer is- he is-

… That was not-

Not -

There’s a weird buzzy feeling in his limbs, his chest and head. Like his blood turned into a swarm of bees. He feels like someone dumped a bucket of ice over his head and like he’s on fire simultaneously.

Okay. Okay.

That was not- pictures of the case.

Definitely not.

Oh Jesus Christ.

Spencer was definitely not supposed to see. That. Not supposed to see you- like that. Ever.

His heart is totally beating itself into a frenzy. There are at least two litres of blood rushing to his head. The other four are gathering somewhere down down down and oh. Oh shit.

Spencer is actually fucked. More than that. He wants to get fucked and that’s. Just. Even worse.

He wants to scream.

He ends up biting his knuckles and letting out a frustrated noise against his fingers.

Did he really.

Did he really just see your nudes?

(And yes, he knows that word. Penelope is a bad influence on him.)

His head is kind of a- a mess. More than usual when you are around. And… what. What does he do now? He can’t just- can’t just leave your phone like that. You’d obviously see what he was looking at and that’s just- unacceptable.

But the other option appears just as preposterous. Because, because, he’d have to look at your phone again. At you, like that, again. To get out of ‘xxx lol’. Damn you. Why did you have to be so unserious and name your, uhm, very personal folder like that? And no password-block?

Spencer feels a different kind of warmth enveloping him because it’s just- so you, silly and funny and kind of unbelievable and Spencer is so deeply in love with you that he feels like he’s going crazy with it. Of course, you’d be like that about stuff like that as well. Spencer would give everything to just once experience what it’d feel like to kiss you. To feel your lips twisted in a silly smile against his, flicking a finger at his ear because you would. Do that. When kissing someone. And okay. Okay. Spencer needs to get his shit together, like, yesterday.

You could come back any second now, actually and fuck. He needs to close the gallery app on your phone, asap.

His hands are trembling as they retrieve your phone from the table.

He allows himself a deep breath. And then. With eyes squeezed almost close, he taps the return arrow. Well, tries to. He thinks he managed to escape your nudes-folder without any hiccups but well.

Spencer is freaking inept with technology.

So. He finds himself looking at another picture of you and god, it actually might kill him.

It’s inappropriate. So so so so inappropriate. You would kill him dead if you ever knew Spencer was ogling your pictures like that. Like a perverted stalker.

But. But.

There shouldn’t even be a ‘but’.

But.

You’re just. You’re just- You’re incredible. Not even in a sexual way, just-

You’re so beautiful it hurts.

And call Spencer selfish, a pervert, whatever. Because he knows, okay? But he also knows that he’d never, ever get to see you like that. And it hurts in a different way now, because Spencer just wants. Wants you so much. You and you, just you.

But…he’d never get to have you. Which is fine, of course. Having you as a friend is actually one of the best things that ever happened to him, and he’d never do anything to endanger that-

…Well. He’s not perfect. So, sue him, for only once, giving into his deepest darkest desires. He’s only human. And pathetically in love with you. And attracted to you. Oh, he wants to be with you so badly. Wants to- wants to get kissed and held by you. Wants to make love with you, which just. Sounds so dumb and cliche. But maybe he just is that for you.

Still. He shouldn’t think how absolutely breathtaking you look, sprawled across the white linen of presumably your bed. He knew you worked out regularly, but. Spencer feels hot all over when he thinks how easily you could just. Manhandle him around. To wherever you wanted him. And this is something he apparently likes. (He consciously stores that information away for later. Later.)

He shouldn’t think how you would tease him, how you would make him beg for you before he’d even taken off his clothes. He would. He would beg for you, go on his knees. Everything, everything.

He shouldn’t think how warm and safe you’d make him feel, even after knowing he’s inexperienced in everything. You’d take his face in your hands, smile at him so beautifully he’d cry. Tell that ugly internalized shame to go ‘fuck off to Jupiter’.

Oh, he shouldn’t be looking at you like this. He shouldn’t, shouldn’t, shouldn’t.

But there’s always so much he shouldn’t do. Friends shouldn’t think of other friends like that. Friends don’t imagine how it would feel to be taken apart and put together again by their friend. Friends shouldn’t want to touch, touch, touch-

Maybe, for once, he just. Has enough of that. Maybe, he could just. Indulge. For a minute. To know what it’d be like. Just. A little.

To know what it’d be like if this picture was meant for him. What it’d be like- Be like to see you. And for you to see him. Like that. What it’d feel like to crawl into your lap, bury his face in your neck. Set his teeth on the gentle skin there and hear you gasp for him. How you’d bury your hands in his hair, and he’d make the most miserable noises until you pulled and-

Something in the corner of his eyes catches his attention and- shit.

Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit.

That’s you. Walking towards the door.

His hands are shaking so badly he has difficulties navigating your phone. But thankfully, this time, he manages to leave ‘xxx lol’ and find his way back to the evidence folder.

Oh god.

Did he actually- He actually-

The door springs open. Spencer startles kind of violently.

(Oh god.)

You have a big grin on your face. Some magenta ink smutched across your left cheek. And Spencer knows what you look like without-

“Heya, Spence, you won’t believe what just happened-“

(Oh god.)

“Uh… you okay there?”

His face feels like it’s on fire. His heartbeat is spiking and, well. He’s never been quite this turned on his entire life. He feels himself hard and aching against his trousers and Spencer wants you to push him down on the table and-

Oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god-

He needs to- leave. Right now.

“Fine”, he squeaks, voice all over the place and he cringes, “Just-“

He wags his hands around in a very confusing, general manner. Grabs some photographs.

“I need to- Need to. Bathroom”, is all he somehow manages, photographs surely placed in front of his, ahhhh, problem.

You look at him as if he lost his mind. He probably has. “Oh-kay? Then… go?”

Spencer goes.

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

Spencer can’t stop thinking about those pictures.

He’d known it would come to this. Him, lying wide awake on the uncomfortable hotel bed.

Having an eidetic memory has never felt more like a curse to him as now.

He buries his head further into the pillow. Fingers digging into it. Pulling his legs closer to him and, ah. That. Probably wasn’t the greatest idea of his.

He’s still- turned on. Uncomfortably so.But just thinking of taking care of that. Well. He’s 100% sure that that’s not the way to go about forgetting these pictures.

Also, it’s bad enough already that he even saw them. It would be so much creepier to jerk himself off to them. To you. His best friend. But- ugh.

It’s always kind of uncomfy for him to be away on a case. He prefers his own four walls over anything else, kind of, except maybe the university library. And now, being sexually frustrated away on a case that requires even more focus than other cases do?

Oh, Spencer is so fucked.

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

You notice that something is off with him. It really would have been a miracle if not, because then Spencer would’ve had to question your profiling skills. But even then- he doesn’t think that you’d even need to have these skills to notice him acting off.

Because Spencer is so not the person to play incidents like that cool. He is painfully aware of that, thank you very much.

So, the next day, when you came to say hi to him (“Hey there, Mr. Doctor.”), after he basically ran off the day before, and you, as always, casually put your hand on his shoulder, Spencer, he-

He spit out his coffee.

He could feel you freeze through the hand on his shoulder. Your expression would’ve been comical if Spencer wasn’t dying.

“Uhh… Do you… Do you need a moment?”

Well, that was a freaking understatement. Spencer needs not a moment but all of them to try to get his act together.

…which he didn’t. Not for the rest of that day, and also not for the day after. And the day after. This case apparently will never end. Fucking Florida.

You, of course being the kind soul you are, tried talking to him.

(“Spencer, are you okay? You’ve been acting kinda-“

“What? What do you mean? I’m fine, completely.”

“Uhm… Sure. If you wanna talk about it, you got my number.”)

And well. Spencer feels like he is going insane.

It’s come down to him not being able to spend more than thirty minutes uninterrupted in your vicinity without getting semi-hard, because he knows. Without him almost doing something stupid and drop to his knees then and there and beg you to either forgive him or to please let him eat you out.

Ah, yes, because apart from being so frustrated he could scream, he’s also feeling so guilty it’s slowly killing him.

There you are, still being his absolute favourite person on the planet, unaware of what kind of person you are laughing with. Of what Spencer did. It was an accident yes, but- He should’ve said something. Maybe warned you so that it would not happen again. Ugh, but the more time passes the worse it gets. The more impossible it feels to just- go to you and say ‘ah, uhm, by the way, I saw your nudes and maybe you should put those behind a password block’.

Spencer is just- the worst friend. What friend doesn’t give their friend a heads-up about something like that? He’ so, hopeless, incompetent, and he gets it now why he didn’t have that many friends in school.

It’s gotten so bad so quickly that the others started noticing too, obviously. It really is a curse working with profilers. Spencer should reconsider his move to Tristan da Cunha.

“What’s got pretty boy so worked up, huh?”, Morgan asked him on the day after the incident.

“Did something happen, Spence?”, JJ pulled him aside on the second day after.

“Are they cancelling Doctor Who?”, Emily, on the first day after.

“Kid, you need to eat something”, as Rossi pressed a protein bar into his hands.

Even Penelope texted him.

is it what i think it is? ;))))))

He did not dignify her with an answer.

When Hotch comes to him on the evening on the second day after, Spencer is a mess. He’s practically spent the entire day in some state of fluster. He noticed he’s trailing off when he’s info-dumping. That he’s just- staring off into space more often than he usually does. That he can’t talk to you properly without stuttering, that he avoids looking you in the eyes. So, it really was only a matter of time until their unit chief would scold him. Or whatever Hotch is here to do.

“Listen, Reid”, he says, tone of voice a little too similar to when he is talking to Jack when he did something mildly inconvenient, “whatever it is, and I don’t want to know unless it’s something bad, deal with it. We need you with a clear head here, okay?”

And well, that could’ve gone a lot worse.

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

He still thinks so once he falls into bed that evening. But now-

Deal with it.

How? How should he deal with that? It’s not like he can just press the ‘Delete’-button in his memories. Thanks for nothing, Hotch.

His eyes strain from staring at the ceiling in the dark. Closing them doesn’t really help because all he’d see is you. He’s such a mess.

A pining, pathetic loser mess and he’s so hard again he can’t properly think. It’s just- Spencer has had rather inappropriate thoughts about you before. Has actually spent way too many hours in his apartment just lazing around, thoughts occupied on all the countless ways he’d like you to make him lose his goddamn mind. It had been kind of an accident (isn’t that just the story of his life), the first time it happened.

Spencer had almost been finished with his report, he’d just needed an additional detail from you to finish up. He’d asked Morgan where you were, and this is how he found himself walking down the corridor to Penelope’s ‘Dungeon’. Which, he’d never say out loud because that’s just ridiculous, right?

He saw the door to her office was slightly ajar, a mix of yellowish-red light splitting the hallway in half where it spilled out of the open gap.

There’s a giggle coming from inside the room and Spencer smiles- can’t help it really, because your laugh is just so absolutely ridiculous, a kind of high-pitched screech that ends in airy laughter and he’s so obsessed with it he wants to engrave it on a CD to listen to it again and again.

“No way, gorgeous, I don’t believe that”, Penelope whisper-giggled.

Spencer didn’t realize his steps slowed down, too curious by what you two could be talking about. And also, kind of forgetting that you shouldn’t just listen to other people’s conversations like that.

“Oh yes”, your voice was low, and Spencer would be lying if he said it didn’t send a tingle along his spine, “He broke up with me, but he came crawling back to me not even two months later because I apparently ‘ruined him’ for anyone else.”

Ruined him? What did you mean?

Both Penelope and you were laughing now, louder than before.

“You really, really gotta teach me your devious ways, buttercup.”

You snicker. “I guess it all boils down to making them come so hard they cry and forget their own name, really.”

Spencer didn’t get the detail he needed from you that day.

He’d gotten something much worse and that was curious. From the limited sexual encounters he’s had in his life before (a rushed hand-job somewhen in university in a toilet cubicle by that one other student he was into back then) he couldn’t really imagine something like sexual gratification that made one cry. Sure, getting himself off felt good. Sure, that orgasm had been fine. But… it could feel better?

He kind of didn’t think of that before.

So, when flustered-he had returned to his apartment after that overheard conversation, he kind of… thought about what these things could be that you did, to make others feel so good they lose the basic functions of their memory.

And the rest is basically history.

Of course, he’d never touched himself while doing… research about your techniques. It just felt- wrong. You are his friend and despite of his crush on you, it didn’t feel right.

But now…

He really really shouldn’t. But, he’s just so- desperate. For you and for things to go back to how they were. Without him almost bursting at the seams each time you look at him because before, he never had any problems with categorizing his mind like he does now.

So maybe… Maybe he can just… Do it once? Real quick, to get it out of his system?

The longer Spencer turns the thought in his head, the more… it seems like a good idea. You’d never know. Spencer could forget about- about the accident and move on. Solve the case and finally leave cursed Florida behind. If he just does it this one time, it’s not that bad right?

The fuzzy pleasure that shoots up his spine when he finally, finally presses his hand against himself through his pyjama pants answers him. Yes, yes, it says and more more more-

Spencer has never been good in denying himself things that make him feel good, better than good, things that make him forget about any pain that has nestled inside of his body or mind. Right now, that thing is you. Oh, perfect beautiful lovely you. He can’t stop the way his lips twitch into a smile, almost shy, even though he’s alone. But something about you just-

He gasps, back arching a little when he slides the palm of his hand along himself, still through two layers of fabric.

Something about you just- god, how can he put this into words- something about you just makes him feel- safe. Seen. Taken care of. And it’s just, so foreign to him. Strange. He’s always been looking after himself. After dad left and mom-

He’s kind of addicted to it. To the way you make him feel. Spencer can’t get enough of it, can’t get enough of you. Never never enough.

His fingers trail circles around the head of his cock, light and unhurried, enjoying the shivers of good good amazing it sends through his limbs, to his fingertips. Spencer can feel the tension leaking out of him, can feel his muscles relax and his mind become hazy. He should do this more often, god he always forgets how good it is, it feels.

He almost forgets why he decided to get off right now. It had something to do with you. You. Naked and there, here with Spencer. He whines a little because you aren’t here, why aren’t you here he wants that so badly-

But all he has is the crystal-clear mental snapshot of your nudes. Spencer doesn’t remember ever remembering something with such clarity before. He feels kind of embarrassed by that, how obviously desperate he is for you. How he would do everything for you, with you. But this feels so good that he doesn’t care about any kind of embarrassment or shame that might trigger his self-loathing.

He increases the pressure of his palm slightly, oh god oh oh, it’s so good already and Spencer hasn’t even touched yet, not properly at least, but oh. Oh, he wants moremoremore-

It’s so easy letting his thoughts tangle, mixing old and new. Fantasies and reality. The you from the pictures merges with the you from his daydreams and oh shit. Oh fuck.

Spencer moans, high and needy at the back of his throat and god how are you so beautiful?

Imagined-you has absolutely nothing on the real you. Spencer could have never himself come up with you because he just lacks the imaginative capabilities to conjure the absolute vision you are. The vision you portray on those freaking pictures that have branded themselves into his very neurons. He’s sure, absolutely sure, that he will never get over them. Over you. Doesn’t even really want to.

Because he is quite certain that the sight of you, your stomach your thighs your arms your tits your- oh he forgot where he was going with this.

By now, Spencer’s hand has dipped beneath his pyjamas and beneath his boxers and he moans again, his lips pulled between his teeth and eyes shut because the feeling of good good better more almost peaks when he grabs himself, finally.

His right hand starts an even, slow pace along his cock because if he is only ever doing this once, he is going to make most of it.

It doesn’t take long for him to get close, though. He’s been so wound up the last few days, it really is no surprise. It’s actually more surprising he hasn’t come all over himself already.

Soft, keening noises are continuously spilling from between his lips, hips moving together with his hand because he just can’t help himself. The heat in his abdomen is building and building and he whimpers because he wants it to be you so so badly, his thoughts are a mess, he is a mess and he wishes he could be your mess, yours, yours to make a mess of and oh god he’s going to-

A knock. On his door.

He freezes, blood rushing loud in his ears, heart pounding and his cock hot in his hand and begging him to not stop but-

“Spencer? It’s me, can you let me in?”

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

pt. II? 👀

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x you #tinywrites #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader smut #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds smut #tinywrites:accidents

4K notes · View notes

quimichi · 2 months ago

Text

˚✦ ˑ 𝐄𝐱𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐒𝐢𝐫, 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐯𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭? ִֶ 𓂃⊹ - MDNI

WARNINGS: NSFW - MDNI, Pet names, sexual behavior, name calling, some a bit rough and mean

SUMMARY: They took your virginity. Case solved.

CHARACTERS: HSR Men X F!Reader (no aged up Charas)

WORD COUNT: 13.150

Argenti

All you can do is whine as his fingers scissor and stretch you, juices dripping down. His tongue softly rubs circles around your clit like he’s painting you, a masterpiece. And you can’t help but moan out at the new pleasure. His fingers hit that spot that sends an electric jolt to your toes and back, you desperately arch with another whine. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes from the pleasure. It's overwhelming you, he promised to be gentle, and he is. But never once did he tell you how good this will all feel.

“S-Shit Argenti-, I can’t—I’m gonna—” You can’t even finish your sentence, your voice begins to crack, your hips bucking widly as he speeds up. And then you’re coming, babbling nonsense and his name like a prayer as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you. You don’t even comprehend that you squirt all over his hand and mouth, or that he’s rutting his hips against the bed and moaning into your cunt as he tastes you. Not only is it a pleasure to please you, beautiful you. It's a pleasure to be your first. It sends a wave of possessiveness through his body.

Slowly, he withdraws his fingers, his glistening fingers running up to your waist. “Such a dirty little rose,” he murmurs as he leans down, teeth grazing across your neck, hair tickling your skin. “Youre a sight to behold, breathless, dazed...divine.”

Aventurine

“You like that, don’t you?” He asks, grip on your throat. Its not enough to hurt you, but enough for you to know his hand is there. “You like my cock stretchin’ you out, huh?” You're unable answer him, the only thing you manage are whines and moans slipping through his fingers through your throat. He'd be mean to not let you moan out like a bitch in heat after all. Aventurine smirks knowingly, continuing his assault on your insides.

“Can't believe no one ever went inside you, youre far too good. Shit-you love it too, don't you?” You whine out, hiccuping out a moan as his other hand travels down your tummy, the soft touch sending waves to your core. His fingers eventually find your clit, rubbinh the swollen skin over and over again. Your eyes glaze over and roll back, it's too much, too much!

Your vision goes white as your orgasm hits you unexpectedly, stealing the breath from your lungs as your legs shake and back arches. “Mine, ok? Youre mine, my girl. You don't mind do you? Surely you don't...look at you, sweet girl.”

Blade

“feels s’fucking good—“ you mindlessly babbles out. His large palms are stretched out on both sides of you hips, nails digging into your skin. “Such a greedy little pussy,” he groans out with another roll of his hips. “keeps suckin’ me back in…you're a little greedy slut, hm?" he teases.

You can feel his hot breath fanning your ear while his dark hair tickles your neck. The sloppy sounds that fill the room seem to only grow louder with each thrust, as your arousal practically drips down his balls. Headboard constantly hitting the wall. You wouldn't be surprised if something would break this night, and it doesn't need to be the bed.

“if you keep moaning like a bitch in heat, i won't fucking stop,” he hissed out, as he presses down on your stomach which makes you whimper in response. "Naw, look at that," he points at the bulge in your stomach, "that's me all the way inside your greedy cunt."

Boothill

"you still good, darlin?" he asked, amused, his hands moving up to grab one of your tits, giving it a squeeze with his cold hands. He hummed at your subtle nod, his fingers pinching your nipple from below with just the right amount of pressure to bring you to the edge but not send you over. He knows he could do this for hours, his stamina is much longer than yours after all, but he doesn't want to push you just yet.

"shit.." he cursed, though not out of frustration, “your pussy is driving me crazy." he whispered against your folds, the vibrations of his voice sending shivers through your entire body, it almost felt as if you were being electrocuted or something. “its so fucking pretty for no fucking reason...”

Caelus

“shiiit-just like that...” he mumbles out as he lazily guides your movements, helping you bounce yourself up and down on his cock. Hands softly gripping your hips as he guides you. He smirks when he heard your whine as a reaction to his groans, golden halflidded eyes stare up at you. He thinks you’re adorable when you’re like this, so desperate for him yet so adamant on not asking for his help. You had no idea what you were doing, well, neither does he. But you insisted on riding him.

“doing so well,” he says with a slight whine as he thrusts his hips up in time with your movements. It doesn’t take much effort for him to flip you over and have you at his mercy. Your legs are now lifted over his shoulders while his dick is fucking you even deeper, "sorry,-shit-sorry I couldn't-hold myself back much longer-!"

Dan Heng

“just as i expected, it slipped right in...” your arm immediately slung over your face to hide your embarrassment. Something about the way he talks to you has you throbbing.

“fuck, so deep inside you already.” he breathes, as he eases his way into you. He's so painfully splitting you open. You whine and whimper, it feels too good to be true. “that’s it, there’s my girl.” his raspy laugh fills the silence. “youre doing so good for me, just a bit longer, ok?”

He speeds up his thrusts, "eyes on me," he says, "you can do it, eyes on me." And when he hits just the right spot, your eyes roll back and flutter closed.

"Good girl."

Dr. Ratio

“it hurts, doesn't it?” he whispers, no mock, no tease, unusual for him. He knows it hurts, he's just deep enough inside you, balls deep.

“yes, it hurts…” you whine, eyes watering as you adjust. He’s letting you distract yourself a bit, letting you soak up the pain with pleasure. “… so bad.” you keep whining.

"I know, it will get better." he presses his hips flat against you, just to slowly drag his cock out of you again, leaving just his tip inside. “Doing good for a first timer. Don't worry, I'll teach you everything you need to know.”

You nod desperately, biting your lip between your teeth.

“I'll be slow, we got time.” he mumbles, a sick grin painting across his face. He'd be lying if he would say he doesn't enjoy the power play that's going on at the moment. "I'M gonna teach you everything you need to know."

Gallagher

Your mouth falls open when he grinds his hard cock against your ass. Youre breathing hard, chest heaving. But you can't help but lean back against his chest. He slips a hand back into your underwear, rubbing slow circles against your clit. His breath is hot against your ear as he chuckles at your reaction. His middle finger slips between your folds and gathers some of your arousal to use it at your clit again. Once he had your hips jerking and whines leaving your lips, he slips two of his thick fingers inside. He moves slowly, fingers working inside of you like a caress.

“I- ‘m gonna-” you muster, weakly clawing at his arms.

He slips his hand out of your pussy again, letting his tongue run over his fingers, lapping at your juices. He hums, as the taste hits his tounge, “Shit, girl. Got me addicted already.”

Gepard

“That’s it.. Just like that..” He takes hold of the hand, kissing your knuckles, whispering soft praises into your skin to help you work up courage to keep riding him. He knows it's embarrassing for you, he knows you doubt yourself. But he also knows that you can do it.

“Doing so good for me, ok? So good, keep going..”

It takes his everything to hold back his hips and not fuck up into you, it's all too inviting. He holds you, wrapping both arms around your torso and pull you close to his chest. One hand slips down to your hips, guiding you on his cock. "Like that, yeah."

Hot breaths reach your ear as he hums in approvment. "Good...shit--good."

Jing Yuan

“ass up. There you go, atta girl.” and you almost shiver from his touch on you'd hips as he turns you over. Jing Yuan stares at your ass, bringing a rough palm towards your left cheek. “Mm, nice. You're doing good. Don't worry, I'll go easy on you...for now.”

As he speaks, your cheek presses further against the pillow, hiding in embarrassment. Jing Yuan watches as your ass writhes and he hums, springing out his thick cock. “I'm going in, ok? No need to be scared”

“ok...” you breathe, big talk for someone who probably has way to much experience for his own good.

"I'll go easy on you, I promised you that birdie." He whispers in your ear as he leans over, slowly pushing in.

Jiaoqiu

He dives in, his tongue delving deep into your soaked folds. He laps at you hungrily, savoring your taste as he eats you out with wild abandon. His tongue swirls around your clit before sucking it between his lips, flicking the sensitive bud rapidly. “you're so hot...,” he hums against your core, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. “thank you for the meal...”

Your finger desperately looking for support and found his hair, scratching his scalp with your long nails in the process. You can't help but let one hand wander to one of his ears, tugging on it. Immediately a whine leaves his lips as he laps on you more desperately than before.

He doubles his efforts, lapping at your clit with broad strokes of his tongue before sealing his lips around the sensitive bundle of nerves and suckling greedily.

"Do that again and watch me eat you up."

Luka

Luka leans down to capture your lips in a kiss, swallowing your cries of pleasure as he pounds into you relentlessly. His hands grip your hips hard you feel like you might see some bruises tomorrow as a souvenir.

"Damn, you take my cock better than expected, baby," he rasps against your mouth, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “Way to fucking well, you sure you're a virgin?" he breaks the kiss to gaze down at you. “look at me,” he commands, "that pussy is mine now. Mine."

As you meet his eyes, he reaches between your bodies to rub your clit in time with his thrusts, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

"Fuck-didnt know you could get any tighter."

Luocha

The next thing you felt was his cock entering you all at once, barely giving you time to get used to his huge size and thickness. Hes not a mean man by any means, but he figured that maybe him going in faster with the ammount of slick you already got, might be less painful. Wronh judgment in a hazy moment. And fuck if he didn't love feeling the way your cunt stretched to accommodate him, how your walls are so tight around his length.

When he did it, it was over for you, and you thanked him with the most beautiful sounds he ever heard. You squeezed him and croed out, making a mess of yourself as you grab onto his shoulders for support. It all was too much for you, too much happening all at once. But you'd be a lair to say you didn't enjoy it.

He would slowly start to run against you, holding your hips in place as he drags his cock in and out of your hole. His slow speed was annoying, painful, but so good.

But the best feeling was yet to come.

“Just you wait once I'm done with you. We'll have plenty of time left to get to know each other much better."

Sampo

Without warning, he pulled out – only halfway – and plunged back inside you with an almighty push. It .ade your eyes roll back into your skull, your mind went blank for a second. His teasing laugh pulling you back into reality, "Oops-went to hard there~" As a apology he went softer on you, slowly dragging his cock in and out of your hole.

“Doing so well for me,” he groaned, as he lightly speed up again, holding your hips in a tight grip.

"Damn-" he groans as you grap onto his shoulders and dig your nails in. "Careful there baby, you don't wanna hurt poor Sampo, hm?" He laughs again as he kisses down your neck and leaves yet another bite behind.

"We could do this more often, I know I wouldn't mind."

Sunday

The all so collected man practically loses it when you wrap your legs around his back. You unknowingly push him against you, silently asking for more. "Needy, needy." he teases as breaths in your ear, giving it a soft kiss afterwards.

“Dont you worry, I'm not done with you yet.”

Although his words came out more scary than they should, his action of hiding into your shoulder makes it all seem more pathetic than dominant. His wings flutter as your parted lips let a whine escape.

He groans, burying his cock deep just as it starts to gush, painting your walls white. Your nails dig hard into his scalp.

“That came...rather unexpected.”

Welt

“it won’t fit!” you sob out loud. No way this all will fit inside you, you never took anything, or anything that size. He's bigger than you, this wont fit without tears. But you're determined today, telling him you wanted to fit everything in you.

He trails his fingers up and down your side before one hand snakes down to thumb at your clit while the other large hand clasps your hip. "i'll make it fit, and I'll be careful." he promises, soft as he pleasures you. You expected nothing less of him, he always treated you with more care than any others. He softly rubs your clit as he enters, a way of distracting you from the pain that you will encounter.

"there you go, told you I'd make it fit."

4K notes · View notes

sttoru · 6 months ago

Note

for the short drabbleee, toji who realises he's in love mid fuck 😭😭😭

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. toji fushiguro x female reader. smut, pwp. slow but rough, creampies, cowgirl, sneaky links to something more? reader gets called ‘baby, princess, pretty’

“shit baby, look at’cha,” toji sighs as his eyes follow your movements on his cock. you’re hypnotising him with the way you’re bouncing on his thighs, the mixture of cum on his lap making the sounds of your thrusts extremely loud and sloppy.

his big hands rest on your hips and then move up to your waist. toji’s always loved touching your body whenever he could while he has you in his bed. “c’mooon, let me see those pretty eyes.”

you’re moaning at the sound of those praises leaving toji’s lips. he does it subconsciously—telling you how beautiful you look when you take his fat cock. or how gorgeous you are and sound when he’s eating you out.

he brushes the hair out of your face, desperately wanting to admire your beauty. toji doesn’t realise it—everything he says and does comes so naturally to him. he was never like this with the other women he’s slept with before.

“fffmgh, toji,” your noises are what drive him to keep going. toji hates how you have him wrapped around your finger. he’s a sucker for anything you do. and don’t get him started on the amount of times he nearly came into his pants from just the thought of your pretty face underneath him.

perhaps that is what people call love. toji shakes the thought away and focuses on fucking you properly. he grips your hips and lifts them up so he could thrust upwards into you, not wanting to think of such silly things anymore. foolish. there’s no way a man like him can love ever again.

he’s doing this for his own pleasure. not yours.

“toooji, c- can i cum, please? mhh, need’to,”

and yet, here he is, working hard to please you. to hear more of those moans in the shape of his name. to have you come undone in his arms in the most endearing way possible.

your enjoyment is what brings him pleasure. all toji needs is to see your eyes roll back once he sends you over the edge and he’s spilling everything he has inside of you.

toji closes his eyes and tries to drown out the thoughts. he chases after that high, wanting to fill you with his cum for the nth time that night, “not yet, princess. let’s cum together, m’kay?”

those are - once again - words he’s never uttered to any other woman before during sex.

perhaps he is in love. hopelessly in love.

#sttoru writes.#jjk smut #toji smut #jjk x reader #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk x you #toji x you #jjk x y/n #toji x y/n #toji x reader

7K notes · View notes

sunrizef1 · 4 months ago

Text

Milk and Sugar

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Not edited, cursing maybe, the ex gf isn’t anyone specific don’t @ me

Summary: Max is tired of his persistent ex girlfriend and friends that are maybe a little too empathetic about his breakup. What better way to scare them off than getting a new girlfriend? But he doesn’t actually want a new relationship. Enter: you. The perfect (fake) new girlfriend.

Word Count: 9.6k

Authors Note: this fic was kicking my ass im gonna be so fr. It took forever and I just couldn’t write the ending for some reason. Hopefully now that this is up, I can do something else lmfao

You were just doing a favor for a friend.

Or that’s what you had told yourself when Max had originally asked you to go along with his stupid idea. You hadn’t even really wanted to agree, by the way. He had just needed your help so badly and that’s what friends are for, right?

So that’s how you’d ended up in his garage, Red Bull hat pulled tightly over your head as you watched his car sail around the track in Brazil, the season well under way.

You’d met Max a few years back. You’d moved into the apartment next to his, not even blinking as your eyes scanned over the future world champion, too focused on your dog trying his best to distract you from the heavy box in your hands.

“Apollo! Stop!” You sighed at the dog as he jumped at your legs, trying his hardest to knock the box full of dog food and treats out of your arms. The dog, not knowing English, didn’t listen, of course, continuing his assault on your calves.

The box tilts in your grasp, coming dangerously close to falling out of your arms. But suddenly, the weight is lifted away and Apollo seems to turn his attention to whatever had relieved you from your struggle, giving you the opportunity to pull the small dog into your grasp, trying your best to calm his rowdiness down.

Once you’ve gotten the dog to calm down a significant amount, you look up to see who’d saved you from hours of cleaning loose dog food off the floor during your first day in your new apartment. You’re met with bright blue eyes staring back at you, a concerned look on the strangers face.

You’re too worried about the pretty man in front of you to even worry about Apollo as he starts to nibble lightly on your jacket.

“Are you okay?” And then he speaks for the first time and you’re captivated. Not in a love-at-first-sight way, of course. More of a this-guy-might-be-perfect kind of way.

You nod, gently separating your dogs mouth off your hoodie string, petting his, most-likely, empty head warmly, “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. This little guy just really wanted that food, I guess.”

The stranger laughs, moving the box in his arms to rest against his hip, “I’m more of a cat person, anyway.”

You fake a wince, shaking your head with a frown, “Ahh, guess we can’t be friends then, mysterious stranger. Im a dog person all the way.”

He laughs again, grinning warmly, “Any way I could help you with this? Can’t imagine it’s easy moving in with a dog running around.”

Your eyes widen at his words, your hand fumbling to fish the key to your new apartment out of your pocket, “Only if you’re free! I wouldn’t want to bother my new neighbor on my first day.”

Your neighbor shakes his head, light brown hair falling down on his forehead, “It’s no big deal, I’m surprisingly free today.”

You smile, pushing the door to your apartment open, setting Apollo down as you enter. The dog immediately starts to scope out the area, bounding up and down the halls, his collar jangling loudly as he does. You hear the man enter behind you, watching as he walks over and places the box of dog food on the counter in the kitchen.

“Usually I learn a man’s name before I invite him into my apartment,” you smirk, laughing as a blush coats your neighbors face. He takes the few steps back over to close the gap between you, sticking out a calloused hand toward you.

“I’m Max.”

You smile, repeating his name before reciting your own, clasping your hand in his much rougher one, tilting your head up at him as you shake, letting go after a few moments.

“It’s nice to meet you max,” you say, smiling as you see Max’s face light up happily, “How inclined would you be to helping me get the rest of my boxes?”

Max laughs as he sees the sweet grin on your face, shaking his head as he moves toward the door, “I’d love to help, y/n. Can’t have my new favorite neighbor moving in alone, can I?”

Your face splits into a grin as you follow him toward the exit, turning to make sure Apollo was comfortably inside the apartment so he wouldn’t try and run away before closing the door behind you.

Max did help you that day, the moving in process going substantially quicker with the help of the athlete. He even invited you over to his place for dinner, explaining that it’d be too much of a hassle for you to make dinner after moving in all day. You didn’t bring up the fact he’d been moving all day as well, simply following him next door instead.

That had been three years ago and you’d been friends ever since. It was a casual friendship, more moved by the proximity than anything else.

He’d had to explain f1 to you, you being completely unfamiliar with the sport despite having moved to Monaco, probably the place with the most connection to it. Now, you’d casually watch his races as you worked or ate dinner, not entirely sure what was going on but supporting your friend anyway.

He’d also eventually asked you to watch his cats for him, Jimmy and Sassy being surprisingly friendly with your puppy. Max had been scared about introducing them, prefacing with many statements about how much the cats hated dogs and that it really wouldnt be a problem if you couldn’t watch them if they hated each other.

All that talk went out the window when the first thing the pets did when they met each other was take a nap.

It was January when it happened. You had been sitting calmly in your apartment, watching Bridgerton and eating pasta, your work computer abandoned to the side of the couch. You had a blanket pulled over your lap, a hot mug of tea sitting on the coffee table in front of you. Rare snow fell softly outside your window, albeit not very much snow but snow nonetheless.

You were very content.

This, of course, all came crashing down when you heard the sound of your apartment door banging open, heavy footsteps signaling the arrival of your neighbor. You’d given him a key for emergencies, although you couldn’t possibly imagine what could warrant an emergency at this time.

You roll your eyes as you hear him approach, setting your pasta down on the table and grabbing the remote to pause your show, turning as Max throws himself down on the couch next to you.

“Hello, Max. Can I help you?” You sigh, trying to force a smile onto your face. Max seems to catch your discontent and grimaces, wincing away slightly.

“Bad time?”

You let out a breath, not able to stay mad at the Dutch man for very long, “Maybe a little, but it’s fine, really. Did you need something?”

Max nods, sitting up straighter, “I may or may not have a formal request. Neighbor to neighbor.”

You furrow your eyebrows at his response, noting his slightly nervous behavior, “Okay?”

He takes a deep breath before speaking, his eyes trailing over toward where your tv was currently paused, “You know how I just went through that breakup, right?”

You hum, all too familiar with the aforementioned breakup, having had Max barge into your apartment for comfort food and movie marathons more than a few nights in the wake of his, now ex, girlfriends departure.

“Well,” Max starts and you can sense the hesitation in his tone but considering he had interrupted your night, you opted to let him flounder, “It’s been weird on the grid since then.”

“Okay,” you hum, eyes glancing over his face and catching the way he grimaces.

“Ever since the break-up, all the guys have been looking at me like I’m a child, you know? Like I might fall apart any second. Even though I’m completely fine!”

You stare, knowing more than anyone else, that he wasn’t very fine for a while, although he’d miraculously recovered over the past few months. You also stared in hopes he’d soon get to the point of the conversation.

“They also keep trying to set me up with their friends as if I need a rebound when I would really rather stay single,” Max groans, rubbing a hand over his tired eyes. Your furrow your eyebrows, wondering where this could be going.

Max glances up, eyes avoiding yours at all costs, “I was wondering if you could, maybe..”

Max trails off, wincing slightly. You stare straight ahead at him blankly, waiting for him to finish his request. He does eventually mumble something under his breath and you lean forward, eyebrows raised.

“Sorry?”

Max grumbles, annoyed and you roll your eyes at the attitude of the man disrupting your own night.

“Could you pretend to be my girlfriend for a while?” Max rushes out, hands carding through his hair nervously, “Just long enough for the guys to leave me alone, you don’t even have to do anything, maybe just come to Brazil and Monaco-“

Max continues to ramble on for a few seconds, words seeming to fall out of his mouth unceremoniously before he’s cut off by you interrupting him.

“Max!” You raise your voice slightly in an attempt to talk to over him. Max freezes, looking at your face for the first time since he’s crashed through your front door, “I’ll do it.”

He stares at you blankly for a few moments, trying to process your words, “Really?”

You shrug, teeth digging into your lip as you turn your head toward the large window across the room that overlooked the darkened city of Monte Carlo, “Why not? You’re my friend. Plus I work remotely and who doesn’t want to travel around the world to all those different cities?”

Max’s face lights up at your response, his lips forming a huge grin. He rolls over into a lying position, practically star-fishing on your couch, “Thank you so much! I owe you one.”

You hum, fighting the smile on your lips as you watch him close his eyes calmly. You slip up from the couch quietly, padding over to the kitchen to grab something.

“Where are you going? Did I scare you off already?” You hear Max call as you walk away. As you walk back over, his eyes are still closed though, signaling that he didn’t really think he’d scared you off.

He does open his eyes as you set the bowl of leftover pasta and a fork on his chest before grabbing your own and sitting down, grabbing the remote to press play. He glances over as you settle into the couch and move your blanket over your lap before he sits up. You take a bite of your pasta as you continue to watch your show. Max takes a second but he eventually digs in as well, sitting up in order to grasp the bowl better.

Even after the pastas finished, you both sit back on the couch in order to finish the show. You glance over at Max, his eyes still locked onto the screen.

What had you gotten yourself into?

————

“Are you ready?”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as you sit in the passengers seat of Max’s car, the hoards outside having no idea what was waiting for them inside. You slide your sunglasses onto your nose, hoping they’d hide at least a little bit of the anxiety flowing through you.

You nod, turning your head toward Max in the drivers seat, “Yeah, I’m good.”

Max hums, not entirely convinced but also aware he had no other option but to believe you considering he’s the one who’d asked you to do this. He opens his door, stepping out and sliding his own sunglasses on. You watch as he walks around the front of the car before stopping in front of your door and pulling it open. You pause for a moment but eventually step out, trying not to wince as the bright sun hits you.

You immediately step into his path, falling into stride next to him as you both walk toward the entrance. You hear the car lock behind you and watch Max pocket the keys.

The bright Miami sun beats down on your skin, causing you to wish you’d opted for a thinner shirt. Max had originally proposed for your first race to be Monaco but you had decided it was better to appear earlier than later for his sake. Plus, you’d always enjoyed Miami and were up for the idea of traveling there. You’d also originally planned to buy your own plane tickets but Max was quick to shut that one down.

As you both approached the turnstiles, Max pulls his lanyard out of his pocket. You don’t even notice as he pulls you inside the paddock, too busy trying not to notice the cameras surrounding you. Flashes come from all around you, the incessant clicks echoing through your head.

You finally do notice that Max hasn’t let go of your hand after he pulled you into the paddock. You grasp his hand a little tighter and he pulls you closer into his side as a response. When heat starts to rise to your face, you decide to blame it on the Miami sun.

As you both walk toward the Red Bull hospitality, heads turn to watch you walk by. You can feel people’s eyes trailing after you, locked on your unfamiliar form. Everything new in the paddock very quickly became a spectacle. Especially when it involved the current world champion.

You’re sure you’ll see pictures of yourself splashed all across the internet when you wake up in Max’s hotel room the next day. You’re sure your mom will send you whatever article they’ll attach your name to, no doubt hounding you for information about your new celebrity “boyfriend”.

You’d been curled up in Max’s hotel room the whole weekend, occasionally dipping out to get food with him between events. He’d wanted you to come to the track since Thursday but you weren’t entirely sure you were ready to step out as “Max Verstappens new girlfriend” until you’d woken up Sunday morning.

You’d woken up before Max, somehow. As you laid in your plush hotel room bed, you could hear Max’s soft breathing from the other bed filtering through the silence of the morning. Just outside the window, the city of Miami was waking up. At least, the early birds were.

You and Max had slept in the same room enough over the years, Max randomly crashing at your place pretty often, that when he suggested you getting a different room, you’d immediately turned him down. You were telling yourself it was just because it was nice to have the comfort of a friend but something deep down knew that that wasn’t the only reason.

You let the only sounds be his breathing and the light hum of the air on unit for a few more minutes while you woke up. You slid out of the bed as silently as possible, your feet padding quietly against the carpeted floor. You pull the door open to the balcony slowly, stepping out before closing it behind you. The sun is still pretty low in the sky but it still makes you flinch as it seeps into your eyes.

You sink into one of the two chairs out on the balcony, pulling your knees up to your chest and resting your chin on top, letting your thoughts run wild.

You watch Miami move below you, the sun slowly shining down brighter and brighter, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink.

You weren’t entirely sure why you’d agreed to this idea so quickly. With every day that passed, you wished more and more that you hadn’t. Doubt seeped through you with every second you watched Max from the hotel television. He was just so good at his job and such a cool, wonderful person and athlete. How could you keep up with him? The press would be insistent and non-stop invasive. Fans would, no doubt, dogpile on you as well, both warning to know everything about you as well as rip you apart. You start to wonder if there was a single positive of this for you.

The door slides open behind you and you can hear Max moving onto the balcony beside you. You don’t glance over, only moving your gaze away from the skyline as a mug is held in front of your face. You glance down at it, spotting the coffee inside before you grasp the mug out of his hands gently. The ceramic warms your hands, the steam from the liquid splaying across your face.

“There was only those little creamer pods,” Max hums as he takes a sip of his own mug, leaning against the bannister in front of you, “Hope that’s okay.”

You chew at your lip, taking a sip of your own mug, humming lightly as your gaze locks on his back, “That’s fine, thanks.”

You’d usually take your coffee with milk and a spoonful of sugar but you’d had enough gas station or hotel room coffee that you’d be able to survive with just the creamer pods.

You watch Max’s side profile as he stares out at the city, the sun bouncing off the edges and planes of his face and perfectly lighting up his eyes. You bask in quiet that settles between you, sipping at your coffee periodically. You don’t quickly forget the kindness of his gesture. Actually, the action stays in your head for longer than it probably should, mind running wild as you think about his motives.

You dismiss it, though, not wanting to linger on something that probably meant nothing.

“You coming to the race today?” Max turns around to face you, his back leaning against the rail he’d just been looking out over.

Your eyes trace him as he turns, evaluating his early morning form. As you look at this man, your friend, you think about the coffee in your hands. You think about the times he’d dogsat Apollo despite hating dogs, the days he’d come over just to keep you company when you were homesick, when he’d attempted to cook you soup when you’d been sick despite his complete inability to cook soup, you even think back to the first day you’d met when he’d helped you move in despite having known you for all of thirty seconds.

As all those memories passed through your mind, you suddenly remember why you’d agreed to do this in the first place.

“Yeah, I am,” you reply, taking a long sip of your coffee and hiding your grin as one of his own makes its way onto his lips.

————

That had been earlier that morning and know you were sat in Red Bull, watching as Max’s car passes the finish line in second. You’d been biting your nails the whole time, worry seeping through you. You weren’t the biggest formula 1 nerd but Max had forced you to watch enough old races for you to get what was going on. You’d even started watching his races when he was gone, something that had taken you months to admit.

Because of Max’s insistence, you knew enough to grimace as the safety car came out. You were right to grimace, of course, as Lando was quick to pass your friend, taking the lead and the win. Max, for what it’s worth, didn’t seem too angry about the result. You were aware of Landos lack of wins, seeing why his winning would make everyone happy, even the losers. Not that you were too happy, you’d only ever and only ever would cheer for Max, even if Lando was deserving of a win of his own.

Max doesn’t get asked about you during interviews. At least, not directly. He gets asked how life had been and he answers with a vague answer about love and how great life has been. You know he’s talking out of his ass but you’re grinning anyway, not able to hold back you mind from thinking about a world where everything he was saying was true.

“Landos gonna have a big celebration,” Max starts as he gets back to you after the podium, walking you both back toward his room so he can change, “He’ll probably be awake for the next 72 hours.”

You smile lightly, resting a tired head against his sweaty shoulder, “Good for him, seems like he really deserves it.”

Max nods with a pleasant look on his face, “Yeah, I’m not even that mad about losing. Nothing I could’ve done really. Im just glad he got his win.”

You nod, taking a breath in order to hold back the yawn threatening to leave your mouth, “You should go to his party, I’ll just go grab some dinner and head back to get some sleep.”

You both stop as you reach his room, Max facing you as he leans back against the door to open it. You notice the deep furrow in his eyebrows as he locks eyes with you, “What are you talking about?”

You furrow your own eyebrows as a response, tilting your head to the side, “You should go celebrate with your friend? Go have fun, Max!”

He shakes his head as he enters the room, quickly gathering his things to go take a quick shower, “Why would I celebrate a loss with a coworker when I can get some quality time with a friend instead? I’d rather celebrate a win with you instead of a loss without you. Trust me, you’ll be there to see me win.”

You’re already at a loss for words at his response but your rendered speechless as Max pulls his fireproofs off, tossing the shirt to the side passively. He turns away from you and you watch his muscles ripple under his skin, your face hearing greatly. His arms flex as he reaches for something and you have to bite your lip to keep your mouth closed. Your eyes are wide as he turns to glance over his shoulder at you, “That okay?”

At the risk of sounding like an idiot if you attempt to respond with words, you simply nod, eyes moving toward the floor. You don’t notice the smirk that forms on his lips as he catches your stare.

“I’m gonna shower and then we can leave,” he calls out over his shoulder as he walks into his bathroom. Your eyes are still locked onto the floor. You hear the sound of water pattering against the floor just after the door shuts.

You take a large sip of your water bottle, trying to wet your drying throat and keep the heat in your face at bay. You feel like you might be going crazy, the image of Max’s shirtless back etched into your mind.

Jesus Christ.

————

“What do you wanna watch?” Max mumbles through a mouth full of pizza, his hand coming up to covering it as he speaks.

You shrug, “I don’t know.”

Max shrugs as well, grabbing the remote off the nightstand and passively flickering through the channels as he swallows his bite of pizza, “Come get some food.”

He gestures toward the box of pizza on the edge of his bed with the remote, glancing toward you sitting in your own bed, watching him instead of the tv. You slide off the bed, taking the few steps it takes to get to his own and gently settling on the side he wasn’t currently sitting on.

Max watches you move, humming as you grasp a piece from the pizza box before he turns his attention back to the screen. You don’t notice as he settles on a movie, too busy trying not to absolutely scarf down the food in your hand.

Your eyes do leave the slice to glance over at Max, legs outstretched with his back firmly against the headboard. He’s wearing a Red Bull hoodie, even managing to wear team merch in his own bedroom. He’s also got some old basketball shorts, a faded logo sitting on the upper thigh that, no matter how much you try, you can’t understand.

You look away when you hear the familiar sound of Lightning McQueen echoing out of the television speakers. You quickly catch sight of the Italian formula car, deducing that Max has chosen Cars 2, of all movies.

You try your best not to laugh but a giggle escapes you anyway, causing you to bury your head in your shoulder to try and hide your grin.

“What?” Max asks you and you look forward again, eyes locked onto the movie, “What’s so funny?”

Your head turns toward the driver who’s grin is now matching your own, “You chose probably the only movie on here that uses the words “Grand Prix” can’t even get away from racing in your hotel room.”

He feigns offense for a few moments before reaching forward to grab another piece of pizza and sliding down into more of a lying position, “It’s a good movie.”

You both turn to the screen for a few moments but the second Lewis Hamilton’s voice rings out in the silence, you laugh loudly, Max groaning beside you.

You quickly dissolve into giggles, trying your hardest to reign it in but when you look over and see the amused frown on Max’s face, you’re right back into it again, Max laughing in response.

You both do eventually settle down, watching the movie and eating your food together. Even after the pizza box is empty and max moves to set it on the table, you don’t move from your spot, using the reasoning that it’s just easier to see the screen from his bed.

You try not to notice the proximity between you. You’d been holding hands all day and you’d pressed several kisses to his cheeks and forehead, being near him shouldn’t bother you. But when you shift slightly closer just to get more comfortable and Max’s arm falls down over your shoulder, you freeze, keeping as still as you can.

He doesn’t move his arm through the rest of the movie. Not that you’d know, considering you drift off with about half an hour to go. But Max doesn’t notice that either, considering how he fell asleep just after.

You wake up before him again the next morning, don’t the same thing you’d done the day before and walking out to the balcony. Max does the same thing he did as well, walking out with two mugs grasped gently in his grip.

When you take the mug from him, you try not to think about the fact you’d woken up limbs tangled with his and your face pressed into his chest.

————

The São Paulo Grand Prix.

It had been 6 months of this charade with Max. That’s right, you’d managed to suffer through 6 whole months of pretending to be his girlfriend. There’s been countless headlines from various news sites, trying their best to figure out every single detail about your life and relationship with Max.

The only thing keeping your mind together was the root of the problem himself and your prolonged roommate, Max.

He was actually really lovely. Every time you suggested a different room for his sake, you’d end up right where you were the week before, in a bed across from his. You’d also kept the same morning routine every day, waking up before Max and sitting out on the balcony until he brought coffee out for both of you.

He’d eventually gotten to a point where he sat in the chair next to you as opposed to standing up and leaning against the railing. There was still little conversation, though, you both enjoying the silence of an early morning instead.

This specific morning, you were watching the city of São Paulo move along below you. Goosebumps raised slightly as the wind-chilled November air nipped at the skin on your arms. The sun hadn’t completely rose yet and the previous nights rain had left the air colder than it should’ve been. You found yourself rubbing your hands over your arms and wishing you’d worn something other than a t-shirt.

The door slides open behind you and you take the mug as it’s placed in your eye line, grateful for the heat of the mug to warm up your cold hands. You lower your face toward the mug, letting the steam warm up your wind-chilled skin. You go to take a sip but it burns at your lips when you tilt the mug, causing you to set it down on the small table in order for it to cool for a few moments.

After you set it down, something lands in your lap. You look down, holding the item up and quickly recognizing it as one of Max’s Red Bull hoodies. You glance over at him but he’s still looking out over the city below, sipping passively at his mug of black coffee.

You look back down at the item of clothing, glancing between it and the owner for a few seconds before deciding to slip it on, your cold skin winning out over any reasonable thought that would tell you not to wear it.

The hoodies too big for you and it smells like Max but you don’t really seem to mind either of those things. Especially as your skin heats as the fabric passes over it.

Once you’ve got the hoodie on, you pick up your coffee again, blowing on it slightly to cool it down. You raise the cup to your lips, letting the warm liquid flow into your mouth.

You hum at the taste, quickly noticing that it tastes different than usual. You furrow your eyebrows, taking another sip. The oh-so wonderful taste that you’d missed so dearly over the past 6 months takes over your tastebuds. The taste of real milk and sugar.

You hum pleasantly, grasping the cup tightly. You glance over toward the man who’d handed you the drink, “Is this milk and sugar?”

Max glances toward you for a split-second before he looks back over the city, taking a sip of his own coffee, “Yeah, that’s how you like it, right? You always drink it like that back home.”

You ignore the jolt in your stomach when Max refers to the Monaco apartments as a shared home. You bite your lip with an affirmative hum, “Where’d you get milk and sugar?”

“Couldn’t sleep last night, went for a walk. There’s a corner store down the block and I picked some up,” Max says it casually, like it’s not the most considerate anyone had been of you, maybe ever.

You stare at him for a few moments, trying to ignore the warm feeling in your chest as you imagine him thinking about you enough to buy coffee ingredients the way you liked them.

As you sat outside, in his hoodie, sipping on the coffee he had made and handed to you, you finally accept what you’d been trying to deny for six months, if not longer.

You were in love with Max Verstappen.

You longed for the domesticity that was so present on mornings like these. You wanted to live this life with him all the time. You didn’t just want to fall asleep beside him after a race but you wanted to be able to press your lips against his when he won instead of the light touches you’d flutter against his cheek. You wanted to wear his hoodies all the time, not just when you were cold and forgot one of your own. You wanted to stop pretending in front of his friends. You wanted the hushed whispers to be sweet nothings instead of scheming and planning.

You wanted this life with him. All the time.

“Max-” you start but you’re quickly cut off by Max as he speaks instead.

“My ex is going to be at this race,” he states and you close your mouth, deflating slightly as you look away, “Just wanted to prepare you in case we run into her. You could also, um, probably stop coming once you scare her off.”

You nod meekly, taking a sip of your coffee. What had once been your idea of a sanctuary with the silence of the morning is now too quiet, allowing your thoughts to be the only noise in your head, images of Max’s ex rolling around aimlessly.

You stand up quickly, taking rushed steps back into the room. You down the last sips of your coffee and slide it onto the table, moving hurriedly around the room to gather your things for a shower. You vaguely notice Max walking back into the room with a confused look but you don’t even look up as you rush into the bathroom, “I’m taking a shower.”

“Okay?” Max says as you close the door behind you. You don’t notice the frown on his face as he disappears from view.

You’re too busy throwing off his hoodie and turning the shower to practically scalding heat, trying your hardest to rid yourself of thoughts about a life with Max, thoughts of his ex-girlfriend or thoughts about the stupid coffee he’d handed you and how stupid you were to be reading so much into it.

For a moment there, you’d thought that Max was enjoying this as much as you were. But his words were quick to remind you that you were only there to do a favour for him. He is only there to get his friends and his ex off his back. After that, you were free to go. It even vaguely sounded like Max didn’t want you to come back around the next weekend.

Why else would he have said that? Why else would he have suggested you stop coming? Especially just after talking about his ex. It was a stark reminder that you were only a tool for him to mess with his ex. She was the one he’d loved, you were just a girl he knew.

You stay under the scalding water long enough for the mirrors to fog and your fingertips to prune. Your cuticles sting from where the hot water had made its way into the raw skin, the cuts still fresh from where you’d been anxiously picking at them.

You only pull yourself from the water when you start to sway from the heat, your head going light and an ache echoing through your skull.

————

A few hours later, you’re by Max’s side again, although there’s a slightly larger distance between you than usual.

That would change soon, no doubt, when Max spotted his ex, pulling you close to attempt to show his devotion to your fake relationship.

But for now, you're an arms-length away, hoping that pushing him away would also push away your own feelings.

Max can't grasp even an idea as to why you were acting like this. Did you really want this to be over that badly? He knew he'd mentioned the idea of your… situation ending but he didn't think you'd be this eager to get away from him.

At the first camera flash, you take a step closer to Max, knowing how even the smallest hint of discontent between you would be twisted for headlines and it would end with your concerned mother calling you fifty times to check on your relationship after seeing an article on Facebook.

So you step closer, reaching over to intertwine your hands. Max doesn't resist and you try not to read into the gentle squeeze he replies with.

Brazils nice. Or at least, you assume. You'd been too distracted to take much notice. But you do notice the fans yelling from all around. Lively crowds sway and shout in the distance, hues of blue and black and orange all represented amongst the groups.

Max leads you through the paddock, determination clear in his steps. It was most likely just his own determination not to talk to anyone, especially a certain ex-girlfriend.

You both get to Red Bull without an unwanted interaction and the second you're out of the public eye, you're dropping his hand, none the wiser to the confused look on the driver's face.

The tension's palpable in his small room. Awkward conversation flows, your words biting and curt. Neither of you wants to address the obvious undertones your words contain. One of hostility and unshared secrets. But you manage to survive until Max has to leave to get ready for the race and you follow just a few minutes later, making your way to watch said race.

The race is fine. Max wins, but you were never in doubt about that. He was starting from pole, it'd be pretty hard for him to lose. Lando finished just a few seconds behind him, having closed the gap a bit after getting past George.

As the team starts to leave to go greet Max, Christian Horner pulls you along, saying something about Max wanting you at the barrier after the race. You're sure its just so he can put on a show for his ex.

But you follow along anyway, trying not to stumble in your heels as Christian walks along a lot faster than you'd want to.

You pass through other teams and friends and guests or the drivers, waving slightly at people you’d gotten to know over the past six months. The thought of not seeing any of these people again after you and Max faked a breakup made your stomach hurt but you ignore it, trying to tell yourself it was for the better.

When Christian reaches the team, he guides you both through the crowd, smiling politely at the engineers as he slides by.

It seems you both reach the barrier just in time, as Max is parking when you come to a stop. You watch as he pulls himself out of the car, cheering a bit to the fans around as he stands atop it. When he pulls off his helmet and balaclava, you try your hardest not to smile at the pure joy on his face.

He glances over his shoulder at something you can't see before he turns and catches your eye, quickly moving in your direction. Before you can even say a word, he's set his helmet down and wrapped both his hands around the sides of your face, pulling it toward his own. His lips are warm, the heat of the race still emanating off of him. You dismiss the sweat in his hair as you wrap a hand softly around the nape of his neck, tangling your fingers in his locks. Your other hand rests on the side of his face, your thumb tracing the marks his helmet had left around his eyes.

You pull away first, glancing up into his eyes with a gentle smile, “Good job, you did amazing Max.”

His face heats and he glances away with a light chuckle, “Thank you, baby. I'm glad you're here.”

You wish he'd stop calling you that. At least for the sake of your heart jumping in your chest every time he does.

He looks away but your eyes are still firmly locked on the side of his face, tracing the familiar path around his features that they'd forged over the past six months. The same path they took every morning when you watched him look out over whatever city you were in that weekend. The same path they took when he fell asleep first during a movie in hopes of memorizing every detail before you slunk back into your own bed to fall asleep, the image of his face still etched into your mind.

But as you stare up at Max, trying to memorize the puzzle pieces of his face while he talks to Christian, you realize how futile of an endeavour it is. Not matter how hard you try, you'll never get the slope of his nose just right in your memories. You'll never get the right shade of turquoise for his eyes. The sandy-dark-blond of his hair will fade away until it was nothing in your mind but the shade of your coffee in the morning instead of the colour of his hair.

Maybe you should find a different apartment. Surely, Monaco had a different apartment complex that was far enough away from Max to rid yourself of the incessant thoughts of him that constantly plagued your love-adled brain.

Throughout all of that, you’d almost forgotten you were in love with him.

But when Max turns back to you, a glint in his eyes and a bright smile gracing his lips, you're suddenly all too aware of that fact.

“I’ll see you in a minute, yeah?”

You nod, smile slowly drifting as he walks away to get weighed and do all the usual post-race theatrics.

Christian pats his hand on your shoulder firmly, smiling as you turn around, “Let’s get to the podium, kid.”

You let Christian lead you away, yet again making his way through the crowd to get you both to the front.

The podium celebration is cute, Max’s happiness practically contagious. Lando and George are enthralled as well, the Brits both happy to back on the podium once again.

But when Max leans over to spray the champagne on the team, you put your hands over your face as Christian laughs beside you, both of you trying to avoid the sticky liquid as much as possible.

You peel away from the crowd after Max walks off, trying to find your way to wherever Max had gone.

As you'd left, you'd wandered away from Christian, who knew the paddock much better than you did. This was your first time here and you found yourself looking around for any sign of the Red Bull driver or, at least, a familiar face who could point you in the right direction.

It takes you a few minutes to gain your bearings but when you hear the familiar sound of Max’s voice, you go that direction, turning a corner to see his face.

And you do see him, post-race glow and all. But it's not just him you find. Standing entirely too close to him with her hand resting on his shoulder, is Max’s ex-girlfriend. She's smiling warmly, nodding animatedly at whatever it is Max is saying. Which, from constantly talking to him, you know is not worth the reaction she's giving him.

He's glancing around, clearly not comfortable with the situation. You huff, looking around before conceding and walking over to the pair. Were you maybe taking your time a little bit? Yeah, but you really didn't want to do this.

You roll your eyes when you catch Max’s eye and a relieved look rolls over his face, “Hey, baby.”

Max uses your arrival as an excuse to take a step back, swinging his arm around your shoulder. He's still covered in champagne and sweat but you ignore it, “Hey, Max.”

You finally glance up to meet the eye of the woman in front of you, her eyes narrowed as she looks between you, “Oh my god, hi! You must be Max’s ex!”

She rolls her eyes before smiling tightly with a nod of her head, “Yeah, I am. You must be his new girlfriend.”

You hum affirmatively, smiling wide as you glance over to the man beside you, “I am, yeah. He's just so perfect. We’re so happy together!”

She narrows her eyes again, glancing you up and down before her eyes stop on your face. You roll your head to the side to rest your temple on his shoulder, resting one of your hands against his chest.

“Well, I’m happy you moved on, Max,” She says, turning her entire attention to the man in question, “You seem… perfect together.”

Max gleams, nodding as he leans in to kiss your cheek, “Yeah, I’m really happy.”

His ex chews on her bottom lip for a few moments before huffing and moving away, turning to shout over her shoulder as she walks away, “Have a great life, Max!”

“Thanks, I guess!” Max replies, laughing as soon as the woman is out of earshot. He pulls away from your side, turning to fully face you.

“Thank you!” Max cheers, grasping your shoulders with his hands, “Did you see her face? She was so pissed that I'd moved on.”

You hum, letting him be happy by himself while you stood quietly, “Yeah, you're welcome.”

You peel away from Max, turning to go back to the car park so you can leave. You don't say anything to Max before you walk away, leaving him to jog to catch up to you.

“You okay?” He asks once he's by your side again. You glance over, catching the concerned look on his face.

“Yeah,” you nod curtly, looking back ahead, “Yeah, I'm fine.”

He doesn't seem convinced but he leaves it be, turning away as well.

He pretends not to notice when you coincidentally step away after he tries to grab your hand.

While Max debriefs, you text one of your friends to ask if you could stay with her for a few days when you got back to Monaco. After this fake relationship was over, you needed to get away from Max for a while just to try and push away the growing feelings you have for the Dutch man.

And with the departure of Max’s ex, you'd served your purpose and you could finally get out of Max’s life and give him the solitude he so longed for.

The ride back to the hotel is quiet, the only noise being the sound of your nails tapping against the screen of your phone. Max glances over periodically but you eventually set your phone down, choosing to stare out the window as the dark streets of Brazil pass by quickly.

When you get back to the hotel, you open the car door before Max can get it for you like he usually does. He sends you another glance, trailing passively behind as you walk in front of him. You both pass through the lobby and the elevator, your steps determined and much quicker than Max really wanted to be walking.

He's still riding the high of his win and the defeat of his ex-girlfriend but you're in your own mind, too sick to your stomach to be happy for him.

You pull out the spare room key when you arrive at the room, pressing it against the sensor before shoving the door open roughly, letting it fall against Max behind you who catches it.

You toss the key on the table by the door and set your phone down beside it. You still don't turn around as you throw the jacket he had let you borrow down on his bed.

"What is your problem?" You hear Max’s voice ring out in the otherwise quiet room. Annoyance paints his words, causing you to pause for a split-second.

"I don't have a problem." You say, cringing when you catch how much of a lie it sounds. You move on, though, pulling your suitcase out from under the bed and unzipping it.

Max scoffs, raising a disbelieving eyebrow, "Are you sure? Because it really feels like you do."

"It's nothing, Max." You reply sharply, walking into the attached bathroom, grateful to get away from his gaze for a second.

You come back out, your toiletry bag in hand. You set it down in your suitcase and stand up, walking over to the closet and pulling your clothes off the rack. The sound of the hangers hitting together echoes through your head, only contributing to the headache that had been growing since your revelation that morning.

Max finally catches onto what you're doing and speaks, his voice almost panicked, "What are you doing?"

"Leaving."

"What, already? Why?" You try not to be swayed by the hurt in his voice, turning around and walking past him to set your clothes down in your case.

He follows you over, stepping closer as you stand up. You try and step past him but he puts his arm out, stopping you in your tracks. You concede with a sigh, finally looking him in his eyes.

"It doesn't matter, Max.”

"But it does! What's wrong?" You finally step past him, on your way to go gather the rest of your things but his question makes you turn your head as you walk away.

"Max! It doesn't matter!" You immediately regret how loud your voice is but this wasn't exactly the time to be thinking about the people next door.

Max shakes his head, following you as you walk toward the doot in order to grab your shoes, "No, no, no. You've been like this all day and I can't think of a reason why. Do you really want to get away from me that badly?"

Your face twists, causing you to shake your head as you walk away, praying he wont follow you this time, "No, Max, that's not-"

He doesn't completely follow you but he does step a bit closer, shaking his head with a loud groan, "Then enlighten me! What could possibly happened in the past day that's making you act like this? Why are you leaving? Why won't you tell me? I thought we were supposed to be in this together! Why are you-"

"Because I'm in love with you, Max!" You shout, finally turning to face him as you say it, making eye contact with him for the first time since you'd walked in.

Silence falls between you and you toss your shoes down, covering your face with one of your hands. For a second, you think that Max might never respond, your stomach turning at the thought.

How hard could it be to find a different apartment in Monaco?

"What?" Max’s voice is soft and you look back to him, trying to will your frustrated tears not to fall.

"I'm in love with you! I fell in love with you and I know you don't feel the same. You only wanted me to do this to placate your friends and scare away your ex and now im getting out of your hair. I'm leaving you alone like you wanted in the first place,” Tears finally drip down your face and you don't bother to wipe them away, knowing there was only more where they came from. You look away as you explain, eyes locked onto the carpet beneath you, not wanting to face your embarrassment head-on.

"What are you talking about?" At Max’s purely confused tone, you look back to his face, teeth digging sharply into your bottom lip.

His face is soft, confusion etched into the furrow between his brows. Your stomach flips and you swallow, trying to rebuild the confidence you’d had at the start of your outburst.

The hotel room suddenly feels too cold, the air causing you to rub your hands over your shoulders in order to suppress the goosebumps that had started to rise. When you do speak again, your voice is soft, volume just above a whisper.

"This morning. You said I could stop coming after this race. And I did my job, I scared away your ex. You don't need me,” you trail off at the end of your statement, your voice breaking slightly as you shake your head, tears streaming out of your closed eyes and down your cheeks.

You expect Max to agree, to send you away, to end your friendship out of pure embarrassment after your decleration.

But he doesn't.

His voice is soft, just as yours was. His words are hushed but the emotion behind them seeps through every single word.

"I do, though. I do need you."

You look up, eyes widening at his statement. You can do nothing but stare as he steps closer, his hands grasping the sides of your face. Your own hands reach up to hold his wrists, just wanting to hold him someway.

He raises an eyebrow gently, quirking his head to ask for silent permission. You nod and its only a split-second before he's leaning down, pressing his lips against yours.

His hands cradle the back of your head, pulling you impossibly closer. Your heart threatens to beat out of your chest, his kiss causing your brain to practically melt. You mold together, leaning as close to him as you can as your hold conveys months and months of pent-up and hidden emotions.

As he pulls away, your lips want to chase his but you hold back, your eyes flickering open as he leans his forehead against yours. Neither of your speak for a few moments, silence settling between the two of you ask you bask in the adoration between you.

Max’s hand drifts back to your jaw, his thumb drifting across your cheekbone passively. You see his eyes look up and you glance up as well, catching his sparkling gaze in yours.

“I love you,” the words tumble out of his mouth, falling smoothly out of the lips you oh-so wished he would press against your own once again, “I'm in love with you. I fell for you during this whole thing, everything about you.”

You go to respond but he cuts you off, shaking his head lightly.

“I only told you that you could stop coming because I thought you'd grown tired of all this,” he takes a deep breath before continuing, leaning slightly into your hand that had drifted into his hair, “But I'm kind of glad I did.”

You furrow your eyebrows, quirking your head. Max pauses, allowing you the chance to admire every feature of his face, turning his freckles into constellations that you'd willingly stargaze in for hours. His hair is tousled from where your fingers had tangled in it and his lips are red from being pressed against yours. His teeth dig into said lip as he thinks before responding. You'd honestly be fine if he never finished his thought and you got to just look at him forever.

But he does finish his thought, the look in his eyes making your heart jump, "Because I don't want to pretend anymore."

You wait a moment, giving him the chance to take it back in case this was a joke, in case he didn't really mean it. But he doesn't take it back, he doesn't laugh.

And so you nod, "I want to do this with you for real, Max. I don't want to lie to anyone anymore, I want to celebrate with you after a race, not because people expect me to, but because I love you."

Max lights up, his face splitting into a wide grin at your words. Before you can react, his arms are around you and your feet are lifted off the ground as Max basically throws you onto the bed beside you.

Your laugh echoes through the hotel room, punctuated by the sound of Max flopping down next to you. You continue to giggle, glancing down to meet Max’s eyes, a special glint shining through.

You calm down after a few seconds as Max continures to gaze at you. When silence finally comes over you, Max leans up to rest on his elbows as you sit up slightly to look down at him.

“I love you too, by the way,” He says softly, “Dont know if you noticed.”

You hum, biting your lip to hold back your laugh, “I assumed so, yeah.”

You laugh as Max huffs, reaching a hand up to pull you down beside him, “Shut up.”

And you do, going quiet as your lips meet his. Later that night, as your both lying in bed, together this time, you fall asleep with your head against his chest, basking in the long-lastint but newly-confessed love between you.

The next morning, you wake up before Max, as you'd done so often. You slip out of his hold and pad over softly to the balcony, sliding on one of his hoodies before you open the sliding door.

You sink into one of the two chairs, looking out over the city of Sao Paulo as it slowly wakes up. The sun peeks out over the horizon, adding light to the previously dark morning.

Eventually, the door slides open behind you and you don’t even have to look to know it’s Max. But you look anyway, happy to take any chance to observe the man.

You take the mug from his offering hand, grasping the warm ceramic tightly. Max doesn’t walk over to the railing, instead moving toward the chair next to you. Before he sits down, he slides it over, pushing it as close to your chair as it could go. He sits down and you twist to sit sideways, leaning your legs over the arm of the chair. Max gently pulls your ankles over his chair to rest in his lap before he takes a long sip of his coffee.

You take a long sip of your own mug as well, letting the taste of the coffee coat your throat and warm your heart.

Milk and sugar, just the way you like it.

——————

Tags: @evie-119 @casperlikej

#scheduled #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x female reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #formula 1 #max verstappen x fem!reader #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x reader

2K notes · View notes

libbyfandom · 11 months ago

Text

Drunk Modern!Mizu with a Breeding Kink

(((Yup. I don't know what to title this short fic other than that. I let the demons win.)))

(((This turned out to have a bit of spice, a bit of fluff, a bit of my sense of humor. I will say it doesn't get smutty smutty but Mizu sure has a mouth on her. And she's determined.)))

You’re shooing Taigen and Akemi out of your apartment with a tipsy giggle at 2 am. Akemi turns and squeezes you in a warm hug. “Good night, doll! See you later!”

Taigen flashes you a peace sign before Akemi leads him, swaying and all, toward their Uber to take them away.

You watch them climb inside the car before closing the door and locking up for the night. You head into the kitchen, picking up the last of the beer bottles and tossing them in the trash.

You head into the living room where you last left Mizu, only to find her sprawled out on the floor with an arm thrown across her eyes. There’s a pink flush across the middle of her face.

“Too much whiskey, sweetheart?” you chuckle as you approach her.

“Fucking Taigen,” she mumbled, trying to angrily growl but it just sounds slurred and tired. “Fucking…drinking contest.”

You crawl over her, sitting on her hips. You do have to move carefully though, you’re just a wee bit unsteady from the amount of alcohol in your own system. “You could’ve just said no,” you hum.

Mizu remains silent. She’s probably telling herself she won’t grace your soft snark with an answer, but it’s actually cause she really doesn’t have a comeback for that.

Her arm lifts slightly higher, and she squints down at you. Her eyes drift to where you’re sitting atop her hips. Her legs shift under you.

She’s… really staring intensely at how you’re sitting on her.

You start to lift yourself up on your knees. “You good? Does it hurt?”

Mizu frowns as your weight leaves her. “No,” she says, and grabs your hips to pull you back down. “...It’s nothing.”

But you know that look. She gets it every time Taigen got under her skin about something.

“Nothing? Like a “just thinking” nothing or a “Taigen pissed in your metaphorical thinking cereal” nothing?”

Mizu’s nose scrunches up in disgust. “What?”

You press your hands to Mizu’s chest, bouncing a little for emphasis. “What. Did. He. Saaaaay?”

Your tone and actions were meant to be lighthearted, but something flashes in Mizu’s eyes when you bounce yourself on her hips. Her eyes flash back down to where you’re sitting. Her hands instinctively grab your hips to still your movement. The pink flush across her cheeks and nose seem to darken. “Fuck,” slips out from between her lips. She shakes her head. “S’ just being stupid and gross.”

You noted that little change in her voice. “Like what?”

Her thumbs run over the jut of your hips. “Some girl he hooked up with. Talking about how she had an IUD and let him cum inside.”

You sigh, “Jesus Christ, of course.”

“He’s gross.”

She keeps shifting her hips under you. “Are you sure you don’t need me to get up-?” You start lifting yourself again.

“Stop moving,” she says, and the flush on her cheeks doesn’t die down. She tries to look annoyed, but you can tell the minuscule differences in her expressions. That’s a pout more than a scowl.

You laugh breathlessly. “What’s got you so worked up?” You tap her totally not pouting lip.

She grunts, grumbling a little as her hands massage where they’re gripping your hips.

“Don’t be all huffy with me. Tell me,” you coax with a grin, your own tipsy flush complimenting your wide smile.

She rolls her head back against the carpet and is silent for a minute.

The amount of whiskey currently killing her liver is the only reason her inhibitions are loose enough to say it.

She mumbles something.

“Mizu-“

“I wanna do that.”

Your eyebrows raise into your hairline, lips parting with surprise. You need to clarify just in case you're misunderstanding. “You want to-?”

“I want to cum inside you.”

The raspiness of her voice is even grittier from the whiskey.

Holy shit.

Her irises are darker than normal, the bright blue having more the tint of stormy waters.

And whether it’s the liquid courage or Mizu’s determination to barrel through things to push through her fears, she keeps going.

Her hands are heavy as the slide up your sides. “I want to have something that I can slip inside you-“

Your heart is pounding harder in your chest from her words, her actions, the heat of her frustrated gaze. “You have several strap ons-“ you joke, but your voice is weak and airy.

“I want to feel you from the inside.” She makes a frustrated grunt, “I don’t want plastic. I want to feel you wrapped around something other than my fingers. I want to stretch you out-“

Her palms dig into your stomach. Her blue eyes flick up and meet yours, and you almost fall back away from her with how much unfiltered desire is in them. Her own breath is shallow, you can see how silently but rapidly her chest is rising and falling.

“I want there to be risk that I forget to pull out.”

Holy shIT-

“Mizu-MIZU-!”

Her hips bucked, throwing you higher up her waist with her strength. Your hands fly out to catch yourself, and your fingers hit her shoulders as she’s suddenly sitting up, face inches from yours. She’s supporting your weight in this position, hands and feet flat on the floor as you’re the unsteady one in so many ways. She looks irritated, like when she can’t bend something to her will no matter how much work she pours into it. But she also looks slightly mournful. Genuinely upset.

And very, VERY drunk.

She looks up at you with furrowed eyebrows. “I wanna see it dripping out.”

You gasp loudly as her teeth snap into your neck. It’s not a love bite, it’s possessive. It’s stinging.

But Mizu, being the complex and non one-note person she is, does let go and licks at the reddened skin in apology. “I want to leave myself behind. Inside you.” She nuzzles her nose below your ear, huffing.

Your brain is just on lag, taking several moments to catch up with each of her revealed desires. “And…” you swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth. “And if you got me knocked up on accident?”

Her arms squeeze tightly around you, burying her face in your shoulder. She’s silent for a heart pounding moment, you can actually FEEL her heart pounding with yours.

Her lips drag along the skin behind your ear. Her voice is low, dark. “Wouldn’t be an accident.”

Someone needs to take whiskey away from this woman. Or give it to her more. You’ll decide if you survive this encounter.

“Mizu-“ you don’t even know how to finish that sentence. You’re just… you don’t even know. You think you hear a faint ringing in your ears.

Her left hand dig into your side, gripping the fabric of your shirt. “Would you keep it?” she asks so softly.

“I-“ your brain is still on that fucking LAG.

Her breathing is slow, shuddering against your ear. “I wouldn’t make you, if you didn’t want to-“ she sounds so pained to say it your heart squeezes. You actually forget for a moment that that’s never gonna be an issue for you two.

Her grip on your shirt relaxes, before curling the fabric between her fingers tighter, clinging to you. “I’d just… beg for you to think about it,” she makes a wounded sound.

You swallow again, throat clicking. You’re becoming aware of a heat low in your abdomen growing warmer and warmer.

She holds you tighter against her, and her hips start rhythmically rolling up against yours like she’s mimicking how far she’d push inside to get what she wants. She’d work so hard for it, putting in all her time and energy and her unwavering determination-

“It’s selfish,” she’s murmuring against your skin, warm lips having traveling down to your neck. “But I’m selfish. I want it. I want it so much. I want to know there’s a little us-“ one hand goes between your bodies, fingertips pressed up under your naval like she’s obsessed. Her voice is strained. “I want to know it’s inside you. They’re inside you. I want to know they’re safe and warm. You’d keep them so warm. You’re always warm-“

You have never, in your life, ever heard Mizu babbling like this.

SHE’S STILL ROLLING HER HIPS UNDER YOU.

You finally grab her face with both hands in a rare moment of clarity to still her, forcing her head up to look at you in this haze of body heat radiating from her, from you, radiating everywhere between your bodies.

“Baby.”

Her head lolls back, looking up at you and oh my god. She is just gone. Her red cheek flush has spread to her whole face. Her lips are wet and parted, breath now audibly heavy. Her eyes, her eyes, her gorgeous blue eyes are now a storm. A dark, hot storm.

“Let me put a baby in you, dove,” her voice is strangled, slurred worse than you’ve ever heard as her half lidded eyes gaze at you.

Jesus, she’s bringing out the rare pet nickname she’s so desperate.

And just when you think Mizu is done shocking your system with this new side of her, her expression crumbles into the saddest thing you’ve ever seen.

“Please?”

She’s pleading.

What the fuck was in her whiskey?!

“I’ll-I’ll take care of the two of you. Keep you safe. Just let me- just let me-“ she lifts her hips up under you again, as if trying to tempt you into it. She hiccups. “Just spread your legs and I’ll do all the work.”

With strength she should not have while she’s absolutely smashed, she lunges forward, shoving you to the carpet with your legs spread around her waist. Her hot breath fans over your face, tinted with whiskey. She wets her lips. “Have my baby. Say yes.” Her hips press down into yours again. She whispers your name.

You’re tempted to say yes, despite still being sober enough to remember the logistics of this. She makes a very persuasive case. And it’s not just cause she’s grinding into you like she’s warming up to do it.

"Say yes..."

Click!

You both slowly look up (you more tilting your head back) as the front door opens and Mizu’s roommate Ringo comes in. He freezes in the doorway, seeing Mizu crouched over you in a very interesting position with your legs still spread by her thighs.

She scowls at him. “You said you weren’t coming back tonight!” She sways over you.

Ringo blinks. “Mom has Bingo in the morning,” he says innocently. “… did something happen?”

“She’s pregnant,” Mizu hiccups, before passing out atop you without warning, shoving a strangled noise out of your chest as you yell for Ringo’s help.

“Oh? Congratulations!”

“….Wait…?”

“RINGO HELP!”

In the morning, Mizu drags herself into the living room looking like she was just brought back from the dead, face drained of color and eyes squinting at the light behind her tinted glasses.

“Hi baby,” you greet her softly, cautiously as you watch her head to the kitchen, aiming for the coffee pot.

“Hi,” she groans. “I’m never fucking doing a drinking contest with that bastard again.”

You nod, “That sounds good."

You pause, "Do you remember anything from last night?”

She shrugs as she passes you. “Barely.” She disappears into the kitchen.

“Oh,” you turn toward her retreating back, propping your chin in your hand as you lean against the back of the couch. You wait until she’s out of sight to oh so innocent call out “I wanted to ask about how you were begging to impregnate me.”

Several loud crashes in the kitchen.

#mizu x reader #blue eye samurai x reader #mizu #blueeyesamurai #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu smut

5K notes · View notes

entirelytoooobsessed · 8 months ago

Text

needy!drunk!gojo satoru x gn reader-based off this post

synopsis: gojo is a lightweight, vowed to sobriety to keep whatever bit of shame he has left to his name. but he really can't help but take a few shots when he sees you doing the same.

warnings: sub gojo, gn dom reader, both reader and gojo are drunk, gojo's a lightweight, handjob, semi-public sex, he cries-like a lot, he also had nipple piercings bc i couldn't help myself, reader's kinda a hoe, feelings, think that's it

The warm press of hands against your hips is what makes you gasp. The soft touch of lips traced over your throat is what makes your head spin.

What a delightful feeling.

What a human desire.

“Touch me.”

The room spins around you, the warm feeling of being held making you sigh, leaning into it. The scent of him, the greedy claiming of his presence in your mind. So selfish. Of him not to think of the effect that this has on you. To not care about the war going on in your mind.

“Touch me, please?” A whine this time. A meek sound, spilling from his lips, making your body light up in return.

“Satoru,” He practically purrs at his name on your lips. Pathetic. How easily riled up he is. How easily you’re able to make his knees feel weak. How much he loves the sound of your lips forming his name.

“Mmmm, say it again.”His nose sweeps delicately over your neck, working over a heavy sigh as he tries not to get drunk on the smell of your shampoo. Or more drunk than he already is, that is.

“Your name?” You mutter slowly.

“Yeah….” His words have been gradually slurring over the span of the night, with the amount of shots he’s taken, with the amount of drinks he’s had. With the inches of space between you closing until there’s nothing between you but the thin layer of clothing that does nothing to hide the bulge he shamelessly presses against you.

Even so, you know that he's always been far beyond measures of shame, but this is a whole new level, the way he continues to press his body impossibly closer to yours, his broad chest against your shoulders, his hips canting against you.

You’ve always hated how he’s been taller than you, his incessant teasing when he throws you over his shoulder as you yell and pound on his back. He takes advantage of it all too often.

You don’t mind now.

“Why, Satoru?” Maybe you’re cruel for the teasing, for liking your friend’s reactions all too much. Shivering, nearly violently, throbbing against your lower back.

He whines, “Sounds so…-so much better when you say it. Makes me wanna just…”

His breath is heavy with the scent of alcohol and you’re still not entirely sure how Shoko and Suguru managed to get him to break his vow of sobriety. Not when you’d seen him turning them down for the first bit of the night.

The next time you saw him he was getting dragged along by you, gulping down whatever liquids you shoved into his hands.

With his feverish hands tracing up your body and his sinful hips pressing against yours. Muttering about how he wanted you and needed you, whispering about things he'd never have said in the harsh reality of day, but was that not the beauty of getting intoxicated beyond belief?

“Hmm? Just what?”

He simpers, “Wan’ you to touch me, play with me, like I’m just a toy for you~” He grinds slowly and you wish you could kiss him. Kiss him until he’s breathless and red and can’t remember his own name. Dazed and dizzy and muttering gibberish while loosely gripping onto you.

You don’t think if you’d even have to kiss him to do that right now, but the taste of his perfectly pink lips would just be an added pleasure to this delectable mix.

But you shouldn’t. And you won’t.

Not because he’s your friend and this will surely be crossing some unspoken line.

Or because it’ll throw off the axis of your entire friend group. You'd never let that stop you before. And you wouldn’t let something like that stop you now. Not when you've clumsily pressed your lips to Shoko’s, high out of your mind and hidden under the blanket of dark nights. Or when you let your hands wander along the lengths of Suguru’s skin, promising to make him feel things he’d never felt before.

Not because Satoru Gojo is one of your best friends.

But because Satoru Gojo is currently drunk and so are you. And despite the fact that you’re practically drowning in the warmth of alcohol and all that is Satoru Gojo, you want whatever you do with him to mean something-be something. Not just a clumsy night of drunken mistakes and hazy flashes, not something you’ll forget in the morning and agree to never speak of again.

He’s too…important for you to treat him like that. And you’re too selfish to let anything you do to him to mean anything but the fact that he would be yours. But he’s not yours. And you’re not his. And all this thinking is only making a steady ache build behind your temples.

You sigh, twisting around in his arms. Blue eyes blinking back at you, slowly searching over yours and fuck, his lips are so kissable. Pink and plump, trapped between his too white teeth.

“Let’s get you back to Shoko and Suguru, they’ll take you home and make sure you don’t kill yourself.” You’re not entirely sure where they went or why they’ve left the two of you behind, all alone where they'd know neither of you were in the right mind to make good choices.

“No,” He shakes his head, white hair tossing, ruffled and mussed from a night of clinging to you like this. Far too close for comfort though you still couldn’t bring yourself to pry him off. “No, n-no, don’t wan’you to leave…”

You begin to tug him off either way. He’s not sane enough to make decisions for himself and you don’t think you are either. “C’mon baby, let’s go find your friends.”

He shudders and grips your hand, refusing to move an inch. Tears pool in his eyes and your jaw hardens.

You sigh. You didn’t know why you thought this was a fight you’d win either way. It was a losing game trying to argue with Satoru. His lips wobble and you can feel your resolve withering away by the second. Tearing down every single defence you put up around, being ripped away by him and his stupid tears as if they were paper.

“Don’t leave.” He whispers and he looks pathetic but you know you’ll give in to him if he asks you to. “Don’t leave me…please.”

You cup his cheek and he purrs, melting into the touch as if he were a cat, pushing into you for more attention. Basking in your attention as you sweep his tears away with your thumb, letting him close his eyes and pull you into the soft cushioning of a booth.

You feel heady or maybe it’s the alcohol talking. More tears roll down his cheeks, tracking along the slopes of his flushed face. Crystalline and sacred and you realize with a twist in the pit of your stomach that it’s arousing.

The sight of him. His sweat-soaked skin and his eyes big and glassy. And the fragile mask he’s worked so hard to keep up deteriorating beneath your very eyes, each tear breaking and cracking apart the image of the powerful man he claims to be.

A crumpled facade of a God into a something more, something divine and corrupt, something vulnerable and weak and so very human in your arms, falling apart by a mere touch.

Maybe you’re more fucked up than you realized. Maybe you’re just horny. Maybe because it’s him. And he’s Satoru Gojo and everything about him is perfect. Powerful. Transcendent. A God against humans, finally falling apart like this, before you, ready to fall to his knees. Perhaps he was always meant to.

“Don’t wanna be alone…don’t wanna…ngh~”

His hips thrust up, a whiny gasp working past his lips. He pants as if he’s run a marathon and you want to do such delectably sinful things to him and you’re sure you could do them all and more and he’d only beg and plead for more.

Perhaps…

“Kiss me.”

Your heart thuds in your chest, you wonder if he can hear with how loud it is. “Satoru,”

He whines and grinds and you moan. And it’s a losing battle.

“Shut up,” he insists, hand cupping the back of your head, running his fingers through your hair, almost obsessively. “Shut up and just kiss me.”

“You know we can’t. You-“

“I, am perfectly fine.” His words are a pant, a plea, whispered with a kind of reverence of a worshipper to a god. “Just kiss me, fuck me. Use me,” white eyelashes flutter, blue looking all the bluer rimmed with red and filled with tears. “Use me until you’re bored of me, until there’s nothing left-i don’t care.” He breathes, desperate and pleading and looking like he’s ready to get down on his damn knees on the dirty sticky floor. “Just-please.”

A losing fucking battle.

Maybe it always was. Trying to keep your hands off him, now, you realized it was like setting a treat on a dogs nose and telling them to wait. A crazy amount self control with the eventual prize just in sight.

All you can think as you cup his cheeks, flushed and wet from tears, warm against your hands is how fucking pretty he is. How you want him more than you think you’ve ever wanted anything. “Fuck, Satoru,” you mutter and he moans deep and appreciatively and then you’re pulling him in to slide your lips against his.

And now all you can think about is how much of a dumbass you are for not doing this sooner.

He tastes like alcohol and cigarettes-when he had one you don’t know but you do know that it’s the most intoxicating mix you’ve ever encountered. You feel like you’re floating, high off his taste and his moans; like he’s a drug and you’re the addict, injecting him straight into the vein.

It's far from elegant and he’s not perfect at it in the way you’d expect from a man as beautiful as him-godhood hasn’t blessed him in every aspect. But he’s desperate and he's eager to take everything you give, mewling against your lips.

He’s so needy and it's crazy the way it sends you into a sort of reverie. His hands gripping your hips hard, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away if he lets go, like he’s hoping you’re real and not a apparition of drunken hysteria. He pulls you closer, as if you could get close enough that no one could find where you ended and he started, that you might be able to meld into one.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel the same sentiment. If you didn’t try your hardest to do the exact same; nails pressing into his skin, making him whine as you tilted his head back and slipped your tongue into his mouth, exploring, feeling, taking, using.

Just like he told you to do.

He vibrates against you, nearly shaking with choked noises. He mutters soundless words, each and every one swallowed by you as soon as they’re spoken. Pleas and prayers, worships and praises.

You’d show him what real ascension felt like.

You probably should be embarrassed, or at the very least shameful to be putting on such a show in front of what you know are watching eyes. But you know that Gojo is far past shame at this point and you're too enamoured by the beauty that is Satoru Gojo clinging to you like he’s about to break.

To be honest, you can't find it in yourself to give a shit about any of them. About anything but him, focusing your attention on devouring him whole as he shatters, ready to catch every piece as they fall into your waiting hands. No matter if the shards rip apart your skin and leave you a bloody mangled mess.

You break away first, fighting a smile at his whine as you pull away from him, panting.

He looks unravelled, messy. His usual flirty facade lost to pleasure. His watery eyes and heartbroken whines gone as well. Overwhelmed by swollen lips and gasps to make up for lost air. A blush like he’s just realized where he is, burying his face into your neck to hide from the probing eyes. To whisper, "You're too good at that, you know?.”

You bark a laugh and he nuzzles into your skin.

And then you’re redirecting him to your lips again.

In a flurry of hands and lips, messy steps and you’re clumsily stumbling into the bathroom. Quickly, Satoru is shoved against the door, fingers fumbling for the lock.

Your lips find his neck, fluttering a barrage of open-mouthed kisses over the heated skin, dragging your tongue along his thrumming heartbeat.

He whines and he begs, muttering nonsense that makes it to your ears but not to your head as you hum against him. Slender fingers knit through your hair, holding you close to him, pleading for you to never leave him.

“Touch me, touch me, touch me.” He repeats, slurred and slow, his eyes drooped shut, his voice husky with want, with lust and everything he’s been just barely repressing all this time.

But you've only ever been a slave to his desires.

So you respond in tenfold, nipping and sucking, leaving evidence that you've been here, staking a claim that doesn't exist and maybe never will but for tonight maybe you can play pretend.

Because he keens when your teeth sink into his skin and his back arches, pressing evidence of his wanton yearnings against you like you might devour him whole.

Like he wants you to.

He quieter when he whispers something that could change everything. “Love me?”

Your heart pounds in your chest but you’d never turn him down.

Fingers deftly undo the buttons on his tight-fitting button up, revealing porcelain-like skin underneath. His nipples are hard and pink and fucking pierced.

He gasps when you touch them, pinching them between your thumb and forefinger.

And you've never been particularly mean but you can make an exception for the God in front of you, leaving him to tortuous touches all while he throbs and thrusts into nothing but the fabric of his too-tight pants, whining from the stimulation that's all too little.

He's been begging for this all night. Whispering dirty words like a little tease, like a shameless slut.

He got you all riled up and for that you think that he should take his own share of teasing.

For retribution, for your own piece of mind and the pleasure it is to watch him squirm against the wall, eyes squeezed shut and tearstained and begging in small breathless whimpers barely over a whisper.

But you've never been able to resist him long, not then, not now and not ever.

Your hand finally reaches for his waistband, his body shivering with the feeling of your fingers dipping onto hot, untouched skin.

But he stops you.

His hand, large and pale landing over your own in a quick moment of lucidity.

His voice emerged, a whisper of uncertainty and longing. "Y-You'll take care of me?"

You met his vulnerability with a promise because you could never leave him with any less. "Yes," your words a whispered caress, a undying oath in itself, a vow that you'd take beyond this in whatever may happen.

Your lips brush over his ear, his eyes squeezing shut as your hand wraps around him, dragging a ruinous moan from deep in his throat.

"I promise, I will."

And your hand is wrapping around him, hot and wet and hard, all for you. Just for you. And his head is turned off, just sensations and feeling and you.

Just you.

"F-fuck, yes, please," so broken, fragile almost as ironic as it is. "Yes, pl-please, feels so go-good."

He doesn't last long and you don't know if it's from all the teasing you've administered or from how long he's been worked up for.

But you rather like the thought of him being sensitive enough that your voice and a few strokes is enough to bring him to the edge.

To have him pulsing in your hand while his arms wrap around your shoulders, blunt nails scraping into you skin as his hips thrust with reckless abandon.

His body quivering with pleasure as your hand forms a loose hole for him to fuck into, your thumb playing with the sensitive head of his dick.

"Please, please I need it, need it so bad," And he has no right sounding this good, looking this good while fucking into your hand like a goddamn dog. "Need it more than anything."

He always has been one for dramatics.

His head falls back against the wall, throat bobbing with the moan deep in his throat, fuck how the marks of your teeth stand out on the pale skin of his neck. Your lips permanent on his body for now, forever maybe if he'll let you keep replacing them.

"Fuck, Satoru," You free hand threads through his head, pushing his lips to meet yours, messy and slopping as he arches against you, hips thrusting erratically to match your pace. Keening when you nip at him, teeth tugging at his bottom lip, nails scratching at his scalp sending tingles down every part of his body.

He breaks away with a gasp and a cry when and only when he absolutely has to, eyes shining and chest heaving with breaths to fill his burning lungs.

And he's crying. And he's beautiful.

More beautiful than anyone or anything you've ever seen in your life.

"Shit, I'm close, m' so fuckin' close-!"

You’re half out of your mind and you couldn’t feel more sane. Like this was meant to happen-like he was meant to be yours.

"Don' stop, please don't stop," he gasps, like you'd ever think about it, like you'd could even if you wanted to.

“Satoru,” And he shakes.

“Satoru,” And he sobs.

“Satoru,” And he breaks, head falling back as if in prayer, a finger pushing his chin up, clashing against a higher power he didn't think possible.

“My one and only Satoru.” Soft and sweet and just for him and only him. And he’s gone.

Ropes of cum spurt out, rope after rope, covering your hand and the floor. Covering his thighs and his stomach in a mess.

Everything feels fuzzy and his cheeks are pink. A stupid grin crossing his face as he melts, boneless in your arms. "I love you." He mutters, distantly, foggily.

Perhaps somewhere beneath the haze he thinks that maybe you've said the same back. But he isn't quite sure anymore. He needs to be sure.

Slowly, he's lowered onto the floor into a sitting position. The tile is cold against his bare skin but it's okay because you're still caressing him, holding his face in your hand, thumb wiping at his tears.

"You love me right?"

You leave for moment and a whines at the loss of you pressed against him. Even if it's only for a few seconds he feels lonely and empty without your touch.

But then you're back and you're wiping him down with a wet towel, cleaning off his skin so gently, as if he's made of glass of porcelain, like he something to be cherished and taken care of.

"Hey pretty boy, you good?" He recognizes your voice even throughout the cloud in his mind. He nods and you smile and he's melting all over again.

"Do you love me?"

You roll your eyes and for an awful second he thinks that maybe you're going to say no. But then you're pushing the hair off his forehead and kissing him so fucking gently he thinks he'll cry.

"I do love you Satoru."

And his heart is bursting-he swears it is, it's beating so fast and so hard he's absolutely sure that you can hear it and that the quiet laughs escaping your pretty lips is because you can tell how dumbly in love with you he is.

But that doesn't matter.

Because right now he's normal person and you're a normal person and nothing else will matter but the fact that he's your's now.

"I love you too, y'know?" He mumbles.

You kiss him again, and again, and again. On his forehead and his temples, his cheeks and the tip of his nose and each of his eyelids. You kiss everywhere on his face until his lips are pouted out and he lets out a little whine of frustration.

And then you kiss his lips. Barely a peck, too fast and short for his taste but he doesn't have time to complain as you pull him off the floor.

“C’mon pretty boy, let me bring you home.”

“Mmm,” He doesn’t move, boneless against you. “Will you fuck me again?”

You laugh, soft. “Like I’d be able to resist you.”

4K notes · View notes