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chuluoyi · 1 year ago

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LOVER'S QUARREL

- fushiguro megumi x reader

“i can't do this anymore.” you and megumi are just too different; he's stoic, you're bubbly, he prefers solitude, you love being social. it starts with fights, words you don't mean, and ends with an event that would haunt him for a long time to come.

genre/warnings: angst, breaking up, post-breakup feelings, mentions and description of injury and blood, hurt/comfort, fluff in the end (you make up!)

note: dear god i’m finally getting this out of my drafts. loosely inspired by real life events i’ve seen around my friend’s relationship sooo it might hurt a bit 🤏🏻 but who can say no to angst to eventual fluff? tagging @lees-chaotic-brain and @kasumitenbaz (as per request in the ask!), you two are always here for my megumi works, thank you!! :3 and thank you for dropping by for the event!

a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT

general masterlist

Everyone pointed it out as a joke, that you liked him way more than he did you.

And you used to never let it ruffle you. To you, Megumi’s sternness and silence meant that he was comfortable with you. You never wanted him to change his ways just because now you were seeing each other.

But when you thought it over now, as you stood before him with an aghast expression and knives stabbing your kind, soft heart, you couldn’t help but do a double-take.

You were the one who confessed first. Most of the time, you were the one who initiated dates. You always texted him first, asking about his day, and even when he brushed you off, you would keep being this ball of sunshine and wished him a good day.

You never realized it before… that through everything, it has always been you. Unfailingly.

So how dare he spout this now?

“I can't do this anymore.”

"You... can't?" you spat out, feeling the first tendrils of anger course through you. "What exactly it is that you can't do? What do you even mean?"

"Look," Megumi stared at you squarely, and you thought now, that it was the coldest of eyes, straight and true. "It's always been like this between us lately. It's only right that we end this."

This, he said. He didn't even want to define your relationship anymore.

You scoffed. "And why do you think we always end up this way? Have you ever considered, even once, that it's because you make no effort at all?"

"I'm trying," Megumi quickly replied, almost in a hiss, and you almost recoiled. "But I just see that we'll end up nowhere, that's why I'm bringing this up now."

Oh, that freaking hurts. You boyfriend had just told you that this relationship would go nowhere. Right in your face.

Your eyes stung with tears, yet you fought to hold them back, fixing your gaze on the lamp overhead and inhaling deeply.

"You're... selfish," you stated, filled with ire. "You're always walking around eggshells around me, never telling me what is it that you really want—"

Megumi's unclouded eyes fixed on your trembling form. "We just disagree on a lot of things. You know it and it bothers you. It bothers me too. Rather than forcing our relationship, I think it's better—"

"It's always me!" you yelled then, lips quivering and eyes watering, unable to hold your emotions back any longer. "All dates, lunches—everything!" you locked your eyes with him, in mocking disbelief. "How can you say you're trying when, in truth, I'm the one putting in so much for us?!"

In that very second, Megumi thought that he hated seeing you like this. You were supposed to be the cheerful one in this relationship, and when he agreed to go out with you, he made an unspoken commitment to himself that he would at least not make you miserable.

And yet...

"...I'm sorry."

Came his reply, and you were sure that this was it.

And to rub the salt in your wound, he added, "I can't lie to you and say I haven't thought this for a while too."

As tears welled within you, you wondered and questioned what you lacked that led to this. However, the overwhelming sense of betrayal consuming your thoughts ultimately prevailed over any other emotions.

Now he could've appeared before you as a stranger and you wouldn't bat an eye, as the cold steel in his tone said, "And if blaming me is what it takes to make you feel better, then so be it."

You couldn't pinpoint the source of your sudden boldness, but in the next hot minute, you marched past him, your shoulder harshly colliding with his in a deliberate, almost spiteful manner—which, indeed, was your intention—and then you ran.

Which led to the next scene: you found yourself bawling your eyes out in the girls' lavatory.

Yuji and Nobara saw everything unfolding right before their eyes. They hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but you and Megumi were literally breaking up right the middle of their shared classroom, and it was hard not to follow the discourse until the end.

"Are you okay?" Nobara had come to your side, ensuring privacy by locking the restroom door out of your consideration. You were a sobbing mess, attempting to wipe the overflowing tears away while letting out all your emotions.

"He's..." Your voice faltered amid sobs as you gazed at your steadfast friend, your throat clogging up. "He said... he's been wanting t-to... break up with m-me..."

"That's okay, that's okay..." Nobara brought you to her arms, patting your back in reassurance. "Fushiguro is insensitive like that... don't cry over him now. He's just a wimp, okay?"

"Why is it me?" you asked her, voice brittle, still shaking with tears. "I t-tried everything! Being the supportive girlfriend..."

"If he can't appreciate what you did, then the problem lies with him," your friend stated, traces of irritation brewing in her resolute gaze. And as she firmly grasped your wrist, her next words resonated. "Not you."

. . .

"Do you really have to break her heart like that?" Yuji fidgeted with his hoodie, staring at his best friend with a blend of confusion and sympathy.

Megumi sighed, finally ruffling his hair into a mess, as if expressing his own state of mind. “This is for the best.”

Yuji’s eyebrows visibly creased. “How is this ‘for the best’? She’s miserable, and you…” he assessed him, scanning him from head to toe, “it doesn’t seem you’re faring any better too.”

“The longer she is with me, the unhappier she will be.” Megumi glanced at the bathroom’s direction. “She can deserve better.”

He was always too quiet, too boring, not able to match your energy too. He couldn’t fault you for expecting more, whereas he was just not exactly built for your expectations.

Megumi really thought he wanted it to end. At one point, it even felt like a chore, but…

How strange. Why did it feel like something was clawing at his chest?

Time heals. Megumi knew that by theory, but he really did see it firsthand when he saw you all giggling and happy again three weeks after he initiated the breakup.

With Hakari.

“Yo, what are you glaring at?” Panda asked, but Megumi didn’t pay him any mind.

An upperclassman, Hakari Kinji, was naturally cool and talented. He was laid back, knew how to have fun—all in all, a total opposite of Fushiguro Megumi altogether.

Three weeks. It’s only been three weeks since then.

“Megumi?”

Wait… Aren’t three weeks too fast to get over your ex?

“Megumi!”

“Huh?” he turned to the sentient panda with a jerk. “Oh, what is it?”

He looked at him with a concerned gaze. "Why do you look so scary? It's almost as if you're about to punch someone..."

But who was he to argue? He had no right to be upset now.

"Is it Kinji?" Panda gasped, finally putting two and two together when he followed his line of sight. "Oh Megumi... but you—"

"Just shut up, please," he blurted then, a hint of annoyance in his tone. With that, Panda didn't pursue it further, leaving him with his thoughts.

From where he was at the field, he could clearly see your radiant smile for Hakari. It was clear that the two of you shared a degree of friendship, but Megumi never knew that you two were that close.

...huh?

Why did the sight irritate him so suddenly? Why did his chest twinge again?

What a fool. You're the one driving her away, you idiot.

Suddenly these memories popped up one by one—

Of you suddenly hugging him from behind in an attempt to surprise him.

How he pressed his lips on the crown of your head when you fall asleep on his shoulder.

How you would give him that dopey smile when he pulled you close.

But on harder days after missions gone wrong, he’d ignore you altogether— the slight disappointment in your smile then. How your expression fell when he told you to go. How you slumped and looked back in hopes of him changing his mind.

“Haaaah.” Megumi turned away, unwilling to keep watching you any longer. Why? Why hadn’t it occurred to him before now?

Why did he long for you now? Why not before, when you were still his?

They were right. It seems people tend to desire what isn't meant for them.

What could have been more painfully awkward than being sent into a mission with your ex-boyfriend?

You would kill Gojo for this. Or at least give him the lowest possible score in his teaching evaluation for the year. How could he? Your breakup was an infamous public spectacle, so this setup was undoubtedly intentional!

You were losing your head over this, and yet your ex-boyfriend...

"Keep your guard up," Megumi reminded curtly, in a warning tone. He looked as vigilant and straight as always, as if he wasn't even bothered.

You threw him a dirty look, offended. "You don't have to tell me twice."

This just cranked up the discomfort to an excruciating level. The mix of unresolved tension and memories—okay, you might be an emo, but how were you supposed to be cool with all of these hanging in the air?

Your site of exorcism was an abandoned warehouse, and the cursed spirit in question was supposed to be a grade 3. You two were grade 2 sorcerers now, so you were a perfect fit to exorcise it. But there was indeed this unease in the air that you couldn't put your finger to.

"Isn't it awfully too quiet?" you unwittingly muttered, staring at the darkness of the wall. You couldn't feel any cursed energy belonging to any possible malevolent entity, and that was what unsettled you the most.

Megumi frowned at your line of sight. "It is. Stay close."

You blinked at what he said, and before you knew it, the familiar scent of him being near to you made your entire body burst with this equally familiar warmth. When you looked up to him, seeing the solid sharpness in that dark eyes of his and his jaw set, dead butterflies in your chest rose back to life again, against your heartbreak and better judgement.

Stay close, he said... So he is worried...

And in an attempt to hide how flustered you were, you looked down.

You walked a few good steps, when suddenly he asked, "So, are you with Hakari-senpai now?"

"Huh?" You spun around, your expression a mix of surprise and confusion.

"You two seem close."

Seem close? Seem close... wait, so Megumi had noticed...?

Suddenly, you felt incited and it made you angry. "That's none of your business," your voice carried a sharp edge, hissing. And you knew you were being a bit mean by adding, "You broke up with me, so why do you even care?"

In that moment, Megumi could've sworn his chest throbbed. Your cutting tone pierced directly into his heart, lodging itself there.

You had all rights to be annoyed, and he knew that. Why did that question even slip out of him?

"Nah, nevermind," he mumbled in response, looking away.

Awkwardness lingered afterwards. You hated this, but no, you weren't above being petty. He had broken your heart and it still stung even now. If your intentionally biting words did to him even a fraction of what he made you feel, then you would find a small sense of satisfaction in it.

But you weren't able to ponder about your mess of feelings further when Megumi abruptly yanked your arm, his voice soaking with urgency, "It's here!"

Sure enough, the grotesque cursed spirit with the shape of a giant bee broke through the walls with a bang. The two of you immediately readied your fighting stance. Megumi was ready with his divine dogs, while you with your cursed weapon.

For a while, you engaged the cursed spirit with all you had. You were trying to focus on the enemy, but you couldn't help but notice the way Megumi always looked at you every few seconds, checking for any signs of injury or harm.

Frankly speaking, he trusted your strength and knew that you were a capable sorcerer. You had been paired in a mission before and he knew both your potential and shortcomings. It was just there was something about this place that had his senses on high alert.

And his fears were proven true when you yelped and were flung onto the grimy floor. "Y/N!"

"I'm fine!" you shouted in a rush, scrambling to your feet. However, as you spun towards him, your scream tore through the hall as you caught sight of the bee lurking behind him. "Megumi!"

He got distracted. The bee quickly latched onto him and almost stung him, until he wrestled it off and summoned Nue and exorcised it.

You went to his side that instant. "Are you okay?!"

"I am." But then he winced and almost fell on his knees if you didn't have a secure grip on him. He savored your touch and breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that now you two were safe.

"Megumi! Oh god!" Panic surged through you as you pulled him close. His side was bleeding, and you widened your eyes at the sight.

"I'm okay, I promise," he rasped, looking you in the eyes. "What abo—"

Then you saw it, the flicker from deep from that corner of platform, and suddenly, you grasped the source of the unease that had been lingering within you all this time. It wasn't the bee Megumi had just exorcised—

At that moment, there was no room for thought, one thing was certain: you didn't want him to get hurt more.

He didn't manage to finish his sentence when suddenly you pushed him away with so much force he never thought you had. Everything crashed so suddenly, he didn't have the time to brace himself or grab you with him, as another cursed bee appeared out of nowhere and—

Reality flashed before his eyes as he stared at you in sheer horror. At how the cursed spirit tore your body, sinking its hollow stinger in you.

You didn't really know what happened next. Everything was muffled—the frantic movements around you turned into a blur, along with Megumi's yells. Otherworldly pain coursed through your entire being and your ears rang, then everything in your line of sight became distorted and faded, along with your consciousness. Next and the last thing you knew was Megumi's battered face, a final imprint before you succumbed to the void.

Megumi had exorcised the remaining cursed spirit and staggered to his feet—falling a few times, but he made his way towards you through gritted teeth. You are hurt. He forced himself to get to you and pull you into his arms.

And suddenly, suddenly, nothing mattered anymore as overwhelming terror consumed him upon seeing you. Blood streamed from your abdomen so much that it made a continuous pool.

"You stupid—!" He choked out, voice hitching. You were no longer conscious and it devastated him even more. "Hey, hey? Wake up—hells—"

You, who did everything you could to save your relationship. You, who cried tears for him when he blatantly broke your heart. And you, who put himself first—and now facing the consequences.

It crashed upon him in that very second, the clarity. What was he thinking back then? He still loves you.

"If you die on me, I won't forgive you."

Megumi scooped you in his arms, pressing you close to his chest, the blood seeping from his wound be damned as he looked at your serene face. His heart shattered in the worst way possible and he almost wheezed at the sticky sensation of your blood—and how lifeless you felt in his grasp—but he willed it away.

"Don't," his broken rasp echoed the walls as he took each step to get both of you out of this hellhole. He winced and hissed at his own injury, chewing his lip in frustration, at how helpless he was.

"Don't leave me."

It was like a distant, hazy memory.

Was it a memory though? No. It seemed far too real for that.

The throbbing headache pounding through your skull and shivers that wracked your body pulled you back to reality. There was a heavy pressure on your abdomen and any movement sent sharp pain shooting through you.

You gradually opened your eyes, squinting against the brightness. You were in a hospital gown, an IV was injected on your arm, and the sterile scent made your stomach twist, as nausea creeping through your guts. Your vision was still blurry as you tried to look around to find someone who waited for you. As you slowly turned your head to the side, you saw him, sitting in the chair right next your bed.

Megumi was sleeping in such uncomfortable position, his head resting on the edge of your bed. He appeared peaceful, almost childlike, devoid of his usual stoic demeanor.

Your heartstrings were tugged at this rare sight. He also sustained injuries and yet... he was waiting for you to wake up, here.

Your chest swelled with warmth, which was quickly followed by a sting of heartbreak. Still, you two broke up...

You jolted, and the inadvertent movement sent a wave of pain that seemed to paralyze your nerves, causing you to whimper. The noise woke Megumi from his slumber, as he shot his eyes open in alarm, catching your hand in his.

"Hey... Are you okay?" Megumi worriedly looked down at you with a visible frown, and the grimace of pain on your face, accompanied by trembling lips, was enough of an answer. He hastily scrambled out in slight panic, "I'll get Ieiri-san."

When Shoko came and got you the painkillers, your pain receded somewhat. Through it all, Megumi stood there, casting concerned glances in your way.

"Bedrest for the week," Shoko stated firmly, assessing your wound with a no-nonsense expression. "Your injury isn't minor—it's serious enough that you're strongly advised against excessive movement."

You could only nod in response. Megumi bowed. "Thank you, Ieiri-san." Once the doctor departed, silence settled over the room once more.

“Why did you do that?” he quietly asked then, referring to what you did for him. And when you turned to him, you saw it clearly.

He looked pale, and there was this haunted look in his eyes. It broke your heart a little.

"You were hurt." Your voice came out dry, and you realized firsthand just how parched you were. Seeing Megumi looking down never quite sat right with you. He was meant to be an unwavering presence, someone strong enough to sway your convictions.

However, a pang struck when he countered with stern eyes, "You didn't have to do that."

...he was right. You didn't have to. What he didn't know was that you were still holding on these stupid feelings, which drove you to shield him. It made you ponder: if your roles were reversed, would he not step in to protect you at all?

"Why are you here?" You weren't sure if the bitterness in your tone was evident, but you continued anyway. "You don't have to be here either."

"Don't have to?" His gaze bore disbelief, as if not believing your words. "I'm—"

"If it's because I saved you, Megumi—"

“Do not even think, even for a moment, that I won’t be concerned over you.” His voice, deep and hoarse, struck you to the core, silencing your words. “Never. I always, always want you to be safe.”

Your mind became a blank slate. Suddenly, all that mattered was his voice.

"Don't you realize how terrifying it was? Seeing you like that?" Megumi spat, his green eyes shining with intensity, teeth gritted and fists clenched. "How could you even think that I wouldn't be here—" his breath hitched, and then his lips trembled slightly, "—for you?"

You blinked quickly, a feeling stirred within you—stemming from that cursed, fragile heart of yours to be exact, evident from the rapid thumping in your chest.

You dumbly uttered, "But we are—"

"Oh, Goddamnit." Megumi cursed, and honestly you were taken aback. It wasn't really in him to swear, so this really bugged him. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, and despite the situation, your heart skipped a beat at the sight. Even a mess in a hospital gown, your ex-boyfriend was still undeniably attractive.

He stared at you squarely in the eye, unflinching, steadfast and true, the very image of Fushiguro Megumi you admired from afar and fell in love with in the first place half a year ago. "You don't have to... say anything, if you don't want to. Right now... just hear me out."

And the things he said next... all of them, you could say, caught you entirely off guard.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not trying hard enough, and—damn it, for making you sad. I never, ever wanted to see you that upset."

Megumi drew in a sharp breath, averting his gaze. "And for days, I've wondered if you and Hakari-senpai are now a thing... and you know what? I hate it so much. I know I have no grounds to feel this way, after what I did, but..."

And like a train wreck, his final words hit you hard. Tears welled up in your eyes in immediate response.

“I'm a loser, and a coward too, maybe,” he shrugged, a tinge of self-deprecation in his tone. “And I suck at telling people my feelings, but I love you. I still do.”

A sob slipped out of your throat and you hastily pulled the blanket over your face, much to his surprise. He thought he had worsened things, with the way you were turning away from him.

But then, from beneath the blanket, in a croaky voice, you proclaimed, "Fushiguro Megumi, you're a complete and utter idiot."

And Megumi didn't know that he had been holding back his breath as he chuckled heartily, relieved that you would still take his ass back after this prolonged mess. He knew he still had a lot to make up for and was determined to show it through his actions.

"Maybe I am, yeah."

"That's possibly the longest shit you have ever spouted in one breath."

"Yeah..."

But he got his chance back, and he knew that you would be alright. Both of you are.

On one sunny day...

"Hey, are you alone?"

Megumi glanced up from his phone, only to be met with a random girl standing in front of him, batting her eyelashes with an ambiguous intent. He blinked at her curiously.

"No. Can I help you?"

The girl twirled her hair suggestively. "Ah, you see... I see you all in your lonesome and I think you're quite cute—"

The hell? Megumi frowned, and he was really about to give this bimbo a piece of his mind when—

Oh, oh. Forget that. Megumi's attention snapped to you on the opposite side of the crossroad. All pretty and dolled up with that crop tee and miniskirt he once mentioned would look great on you by a slip of tongue—that accidental comment earned him your teasing quips for weeks already.

"Sorry, I'm here for my girlfriend. Bye."

Abruptly dismissing the girl, he didn't catch how comically offended she was for being turned down in a span of 20 seconds. He took big strides towards you, as you crossed the street, and you immediately beamed when you caught the sight of his face.

"Megumi!"

Ah, this is going to be a good day, he thought. As he gazed at your pretty face, and caught your hand in his, clasping it tightly, reveling in your scent and the warmth of your presence beside him—

He was content, and once again it dawned on him, that he likes you so, so damn much.

"Let's get started on our date, shall we?"

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frgdsecrts · 26 days ago

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Suresh had actually eased a bit of Ricardo’s concerns with that one statement. He easily is brought back to his usual self and even a small bit of comfort could be felt. “Young, but so very tired.” A small confession, but one nonetheless. He turns his attention to the other as Suresh answers his questions, nodding along to his words. When he was asked not ask anymore questions he gives a little nod, “As you wish. Don’t worry…I do not plan to tell anyone of what you have told me tonight.” It was best that the two of them perhaps ended this conversation, mostly because he respected Suresh and whatever wishes he might have. “I should go find Mathias. It’s been a pleasure, as always, Suresh.” He is about to turn, but then adds, still in a hushed voice, “From one friend to another, I would reconsider beverages that are not handed to you personally by your own people, those you consider friends, or made in your safe haven. Too many hands in one pot can sometimes bring unpleasant surprises.” His gaze travels down to the flute half filled with champagne, never having been one to partake in the free drinks at events. With that he gives Suresh a small smile, a nod, and then makes his way back towards the crowd.

He felt it. That whisper of jealousy. And Suresh looked at Ricardo curiously. This was not the place for insecurity. But it was something to keep note of, that doubt he could just taste. He did not speak of it. Not now. Not tonight. "No. You are both so young." Suresh meant it kindly. Their youth was not their fault either. Everyone had to start somewhere and both Mathias and Ricardo had to carry so much on their shoulders. An impossible weight to bare. "I told him the truth. That his priest doesn't hate him. And that he could have let him die but he didn't. As for the question..." Suresh turned his gold eyes to look at Ric. "I said that happiness is a chemical reaction, a brief state of contentment that we enjoy. And that while I think god’s feel pleasure. I don't think they feel happiness." He lifted his finger to his own lips. "Ricardo. Please don't ask me any more questions."

#threads: ricardo & suresh #ricardo threads.#event: winter solstice #( mobile )#we can end it here <3 or with your reply next lovey

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thistlecrimes · 1 year ago

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Things I've learned from getting covid for the first time in 2023

I wear an N95 in public spaces and I've managed to dodge it for a long time, but I finally got covid for the first time (to my knowledge) in mid-late November 2023. It was a weird experience especially because I feel like it used to be something everyone was talking about and sharing info on, so getting it for the first time now (when people generally seem averse to talking about covid) I found I needed to seek out a lot of info because I wasn't sure what to do. I put so much effort into prevention, I knew less about what to do when you have it. I'm experiencing a rebound right now so I'm currently isolating. So, I'm making a post in the hopes that if you get covid (it's pretty goddamn hard to avoid right now) this info will be helpful for you. It's a couple things I already knew and several things I learned. One part of it is based on my experience in Minnesota but some other states may have similar programs.

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The World Health Organization states you should isolate for 10 days from first having symptoms plus 3 days after the end of symptoms.

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At the time of my writing this post, in Minnesota, we have a test to treat program where you can call, report the result of your rapid test (no photo necessary) and be prescribed paxlovid over the phone to pick up from your pharmacy or have delivered to you. It is free and you do not need to have insurance. I found it by googling "Minnesota Test to Treat Covid"

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Paxlovid decreases the risk of hospitalization and death, but it's also been shown to decrease the risk of Long Covid. Long Covid can occur even from mild or asymptomatic infections.

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Covid rebound commonly occurs 2-8 days after apparent recovery. While many people associate Paxlovid with covid rebound, researchers say there is no strong evidence that Paxlovid causes covid rebound, and rebounds occur in infections that were not treated with Paxlovid as well. I knew rebounds could happen but did not know it could take 8 days. I had mine on day 7 and was completely surprised by it.

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If you start experiencing new symptoms or test positive again, the CDC states that you should start your isolation period again at day zero. Covid rebound is still contagious. Personally I'd suggest wearing a high quality respirator around folks for an additional 8-9 days after you start to test negative in case of a rebound.

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Positive results on a rapid test can be very faint, but even a very faint line is positive result. Make sure to look at your rapid test result under strong lighting. Also, false negatives are not uncommon. If you have symptoms but test negative taking multiple tests and trying different brands if you have them are not bad ideas. My ihealth tests picked up my covid, my binax now tests did not.

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EDIT: I'd highly suggest spending time with friends online if you can, I previously had a link to the NAMI warmline directory in this post but I've since been informed that NAMI is very much funded by pharmaceutical companies and lobbies for policies that take autonomy away from disabled folks, so I've taken that off of here! Sorry, I had no idea, the People's CDC listed them as a resource so I just assumed they were legit! Feel free to reply/reblog this with other warmlines/support resources if you know of them! And please reblog this version!

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I know that there is so much we can't control as individuals right now, and that's frightening. All we can do is try our best to reduce harm and to care for each other. I hope this info will be able to help folks.

#covid #covid 19 #harm reduction #apparently only 16% of Americans even got their booster #it's wild out there #which makes sense because our public health messaging has been super unhelpful and intentionally shifted the burden #of infection control onto individuals to avoid us holding them accountable because it's politically and economically inconvenient to them

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miedei · 2 months ago

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nonexistent rizz

the team is shocked to see that… early seasons!spencer pulls?? and he has pulled????(aka, the team discovers that early seasons!spence has a girlfriend)

a/n: first cm fic!!! super indulgent, deffo way longer than it had to be but I don’t care, I love love love the dynamic of the s1/s2 team and I NEEDED to write it (look at '#mystery girl!au' on my blog to see more musings about them <3)

cw: alcohol consumption, reader referred to as a woman, reader is around spencer’s age in s1/s2 (23-24), completely inaccurate early 2000s technology i think, cuties being cute, not edited in any way

wc: 2k

part two | mlist

(reblogs are the only way to promote fics on tumblr! please reblog if you enjoyed it :) )

“‘O Keefe’s! My wonderful, wonderful sweethearts, we are going out!” The moment the team steps out of the elevator, Penelope is bombarding them, hands moving wildly as words seem to tumble out of her mouth. “And yes, Hotch, I am sure we have no cases lined up yet, and yes, I’m sure JJ can corroborate that the moment she gets to her office and no, you may not stay behind, tonight is compulsory. That stands for you too, Gideon!”

Hotch hasn’t even opened his mouth, shaking his head in defeat as he takes in Garcia’s determined face. Under the watchful eyes of the team, his shoulders slump, a tired hand scrubbing down his face. “Fine. We all have to finish our reports, but if we’re all done in half an hour, we can go. Gideon?” He turns his face, hoping for Gideon to find a way to bunk off, but there’s a glint of amusement in the older man’s eye. “Sounds like there’s no getting out of it.” With that, he walks off, to his office.

Penelope whoops excitedly, “Okay! That means we’re all going! That’s the first time since Gideon came back,” but her face sets slightly when she meets Spencer’s eye. “No. No, Baby Genius, you will not do this to me,”

“Garcia, I have pl-” “No! You are coming out with us, and we’re going to have a great time, and whatever Russian indie film you were going to watch will still be there for you tomorrow. Okay? No more complaining, baby, you know I won’t listen.” With a pat on his shoulder, she flounces off. Defeated, he doesn’t move from the elevator area, shrugging helplessly when Elle, JJ and Morgan brush past him to the bullpen.

With a sigh, he takes out his phone, pressing his newly-programmed speed dial and bringing the phone to his ear. From Derek’s vantage point in the bullpen, he can see Spencer, pacing back and forth in front of the elevator doors, and he can see the moment whoever is on the other side picks up. The younger man’s face lights up, like when he’s on the receiving end of a rare Hotch smile out in the field, but more spirited, buoyant. Only snippets of the conversation float in through the slightly-ajar glass doors, but they’re enough to give him pause, and still his fingers above his keyboard.

“...Garcia’s got this plan for us all, and…”

“Yes, I know, I do like going out with them, but that’s not what I wanted to do…”

“...I took the metro tonight, so I think I’ll just… Really? You want to?”

At that point, Spencer turns, his voice muffling, and keeping Derek from his vested interest in his conversation. But what little he heard is more than enough to pique his interest. He flicks a pencil onto Elle’s desk. “Greenaway. You know if pretty boy’s mom is in town or something?” Elle looks up from her monitor, head tilting, “Not that I know of. Besides, doesn’t she not like flying? I don’t think he’d have her come here. Why do you ask?”

Derek doesn’t reply, simply gesturing to the glass doors, where Spencer is walking inside, his mouth twitching to conceal his smile. His steps are measured, like he’s trying to feign calm. He settles at his desk, hunching his back in a way that can’t be comfortable, typing rapidly as his knee jiggles up and down. Elle turns back to Derek, eyes wide with wonder.

“That is not how you look getting off the phone with your mother.”

The incident is quickly forgotten, however, when the BAU team are crammed into a booth in the back of the low-lit bar. Penelope has roped Hotch into helping her bring drinks back from the bar, and the rest are speaking a little too loudly, arms flinging and bumping into the empty glasses littering the table.

All except for Gideon, who, despite having had three glasses of whiskey, is still just as calm and observant as he is fully sober. It is this that causes him to zero in on Spencer, sitting across from him, sandwiched between Morgan and the newly-returned Garcia.

There’s a pink flush across his high cheekbones, and he’s incredibly giggly, all things that are completely expected for him, a few drinks in. However, what the experienced profiler picks up on, are his darting eyes. Spencer can often be found staring into the middle distance, or, since Gideon taught him the importance of building rapport with victims and officers alike, trained steadily on the space between someone’s eyebrows, but this time it’s different.

His eyes flick to whoever’s talking, feigning interest, but every few seconds, it turns back down to his lap, where something is clutched in the hand he keeps under the table. If it were Hotch, Gideon would know with absolute certainty that he was watching his phone, waiting for a text from Haley.

But this is Spencer. The youngest person he knows. The youngest person he knows whose technological knowledge is somehow worse than Gideon’s own. What on earth would have Spencer acting-

Oh. Gideon nearly gasps at Spencer’s movements. On his fifteenth peek down at his lap, Spencer stiffens, then draws his hand up from his lap to get closer to his face. It is his phone, and Spencer Reid has somehow learned to text as quickly as Morgan does. His thumbs fly over the buttons on his phone, and he can’t hold back the smile that spreads on his face.

Gideon’s eyes furrow, and he can’t hold back from nudging Hotch’s shoulder, pointing in Spencer’s direction. Hotch pulls himself away from his conversation with JJ, and Gideon can see his expression morph from mild interest, to confusion, to complete bewilderment. After a beat, his face turns to meet Gideon’s and his normally stoic demeanor is shaken, eyes wide.

Spencer, however, doesn’t even notice his mentors’ faces, still tapping away at his phone and craning his neck to look around the bar.

It’s a while later, when JJ has pulled the team (minus Hotch and Gideon) onto the dance floor, a few drinks past tipsy at this point. She’s laughing out loud, holding Elle’s hand and twirling her under her arm. Penelope and Derek are mock-waltzing, bursting into laughter every few steps, and Spencer…

JJ pauses for a moment, before Elle pulls her into moving again. Her head whips around, trying to find Spencer, before giving up. He must be back at the table with Hotch and Gideon, he was never very comfortable dancing anyway.

The four on the dance floor quickly devolve into a mess, swapping partners until they’re all dizzy and laughing. JJ and Penelope are shimmying back and forth together, when Penelope gasps a little, tapping JJ’s arm without ceasing her movements. “Jayj! Look, see that girl at the bar?” She gestures subtly at a younger woman, probably in her early twenties, wearing a purple wrap top that has JJ sighing wistfully.

“Pen, I think I’ve seen my soulmate. Would it be weird for me to crawl over there and beg her for her shirt?” Penelope giggles, gripping JJ’s forearms so they can sway to the music dramatically. “Just a little, my sweet. How about we go ask her where it’s from, though? I think that would be a little more…” She goes uncharacteristically silent, and it has JJ twisting to see what shut her up. However, Penelope tightens her grip on her arms, keeping her from moving.

“JJ. My love, my heart. You’ll always be honest with me, won’t you?” Now she’s worried. JJ nods quickly, deciding to just focus on Penelope. “Yeah, Garcia, of course. What’s wrong?”

“I think I’m seeing things, and you are one of the most qualified people in the world to tell me if I’m going crazy. I’m going to turn us around, and you’re going to look at the woman in that gorgeous top, and you are going to either scream, or send me off to Hotch for a psychological evaluation.” Her tone is serious, hushed, and JJ nods solemnly.

The intricate plan is conducted, and JJ is now facing the bar, her eyes searching for the girl, when she stiffens, sucking in a breath. “Yes! I’m not crazy, you see it right? What is going on!” Penelope smacks her arm repeatedly, but JJ can’t tear her eyes away from it. It being something she couldn’t possibly have prepared herself for, not in her wildest imaginations.

The girl is sitting on a barstool, sipping at a cocktail, and chatting to… Spencer. Spencer, the BAU’s Spencer, child-prodigy-lovable-dork-awkward-mess Spencer Reid, is stood in between her legs, smiling down at Mystery Girl without a hint of fear. It’s devastatingly sweet, his eyes soft in a way she’s never seen before, as he nods along with whatever she’s saying. Penelope jolts her out of her trance with a tap to the arm, JJ whispering, “He’s so… carefree.”

That’s the only way to describe it. He’s looking down at her, eyes locked onto hers, and he’s still. His hands aren’t tapping, his leg isn’t shaking. He’s just looking at her.

JJ can feel Morgan and Elle huddle near her, questioning Penelope about what they’re looking at, before shutting up as they see it. She hears them take twin gasps, and huddle even closer. They stand in silence, surely a hindrance to the people dancing, but they can’t tear themselves away.

It’s only when Spencer shatters their worlds once more that they finally find themselves able to move. Four pairs of eyes follow him, as he leans even further towards Mystery Girl, and they all bulge at once when he raises a hand, carding his fingers through her hair. Penelope whispers, “oh my god”, Elle grips JJ’s arm in a vice grip, and Derek makes an unseemly noise, before gripping their arms, tugging them back to the booth.

They collapse in the seats, faces pale as they look at each other, next to a very confused Gideon and Hotch.

“What? What is it?” Hotch questions them, brow furrowed deeply. None of them speak, however. Only Elle lifts a weak hand to point. She directs their attention to the sight at the bar, and they all turn back to it, gasping once again. They’re… “kissing,” Derek breathes, shocked. Hotch and Gideon stiffen, but still crane their heads until their eyes fall on what has rendered their highly trained team speechless. And their reactions are just as silent.

Mystery Girl has stood up, her arms around Spencer’s neck, and he’s leaned down to meet her lips, hands braced on her hips. It’s honestly not that scandalous, a lazy, casual kiss that they part from with twin smiles, but the FBI agents can’t handle it. They don’t say a word, straining their ears to hear whatever she is saying as he holds her hand (Penelope lets out a squeak at that), and walks with her towards the door, not even noticing that his coworkers have returned to the booth. Her voice is low, but Hotch manages to pick up a few of the words.

“...go home and watch that movie I was telling you about? Metropolis, I think you’ll really…” And they’re off. Spencer Reid has left a bar, holding hands with a girl (that he’s apparently spoken to multiple times? Who refers to a place as home for both of them?), acting like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

The group sits in silence, unable to muster a comment, when Penelope’s phone buzzes. She checks it, and silently turns the screen over so they can all read it.

BOY GENIUS: Hey Garcia. I wasn’t feeling well so I decided to go home. See you Monday :-)

“What?”

#early seasons!spence my beloved #earlyseasons!spencer #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #writing #bau team #jj jareau #penelope garcia #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #matthew gray gubler #mystery girl!au

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kitten4sannie · 10 months ago

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backstage bukakke with ateez ♡

a/n: is anyone in need of post coachella performance brainrot?? :33 and if any of you were wondering,, no i’m not okay 🙂‍↔️🫶🏼 without further ado, here’s a LOT more backstage debauchery (like i went insane….i should be in a padded cell rn….) except this time san brought the whole crew to help drown you in cum <333 enjoy the meal my dears bc i can never show my face in public again after this 😭😭

w.c: 2.4k

warnings: alcohol use, subby fem manager! reader, free use, domteez, gangbang, who’s the biggest menace here? that’s for you to decide 🫵🏼, this is just complete filth btw,, dirty talk, degradation/praise, pet names/name calling, so much cum….., yungi confirm the big cock allegations, hongjoong might have a captain kink idk, double penetration, anal, implied sloppy seconds/thirds/fourths kskssb, brief tit play, brief oral, cum eating, size kink, bulge kink, breeding, creampies for days, a bukakke as promised <3

Once the members sent out their last waves and finger hearts to the adoring fans and locals in the vast festival crowd, they made their way back to their temporary dressing room to catch their breath and have a celebratory drink or two. Brimming with adrenaline and energy due to their momentous performance, they erupted in enthusiastic greetings as soon as their dear manager entered the room, a few of them draping their arms around your shoulders to give you a quick hug.

“Manager-nim, did you like the show?” San spoke up, bringing his glass up to his mouth, taking a small sip of the potent liquor.

“You know you can just call me by my name, San, and I thought you guys absolutely killed it, like always,” you replied, scanning their faces, lightly adjusting the hem of your work blazer. No matter how many times you had all of their eyes and attention on you, you couldn’t seem to get used to it. It always made you feel hot under the collar, not knowing what was going through each of their minds when they looked at you the way they did. With interest. Hunger.

San couldn’t help but smirk, his dimples visible. You had taken the bait. He watched Yunho serve you a glass of whiskey. “You’re right. We’re way past titles, aren’t we? Especially considering the way I had you bent over for me right after our set last weekend.”

You choked on the liquor, your body suddenly feeling hot, especially under the heated gaze of the men standing around you. “S-San, behave yourself.”

He lightly licked at his lips, his gaze sharpening, ready to add to the growing heaviness of the atmosphere in the room. “Don’t act so coy now, sweetheart. You know better than that, don’t you?”

You bit into your bottom lip, looking up to Yunho for help, only to find that he was giving you an increasingly perverse smile, like he was reminiscing about something filthy.

Yunho reached down to wrap a lock of your hair around his jewelry adorned finger, sighing, “We could all hear the way Sannie fucked your brains out, doll, but you wanted us to hear, didn’t you? Even though you’re our manager, you’re still our good little slut, yeah?”

Something clicked into place inside your brain like it usually did when they talked to you like this. You could finally stop being so uptight and in control, instead allowing the eager members to do as they pleased with you. “Yeah, I am,” you nodded shyly, your insides on fire.

San took a step towards you, reaching out to run his fingers along your collar bone. “Can I ask you something?”

Your breath caught inside your throat. You knew what he was going to ask. You knew what they wanted. Despite the professional relationship you had with the members, you always seemed to end up in increasingly unprofessional situations with them. You couldn’t help it, not when they always made you feel so good. Wanted. Craved. “Say it, San….”

His pointer finger drifted down your chest, along the seam of your blazer, gazing down at you. “Can we make you our whore, Manager-nim?”

The members exchanged pleased glances with one another, some of them pulling at the crotch of their tailored pants.

“As long as someone locks the door, okay?” you answered underneath your breath, your eyes beginning to glaze over with lust.

San simply took a step around you, running his hands up and down your shoulders, coaxing you out of your blazer and unzipping your work dress, presenting you to his beloved members like you were a treat — one they would savor together.

“Don’t pass out on us now, baby,” San’s husky voice attempted to reach you through the fog you were in, his fingers gently rubbing at the fresh load that had splattered onto your flushed cheek, sliding his digits into your panting mouth for you to clean. “How many was that, hm? How many cocks have been inside you so far? Can our slutty manager remember?”

You stopped counting long ago, too fucked out to think about whose cock had already rearranged your insides and who had stuffed your ass full. You couldn’t even remember who had fucked your face either, but your sore jaw was proof that it was most likely one of the more gifted members. “I-i don’t know how many, just want more,” you whined out, looking up at San past your wet lashes.

“Yeah, you always want more from us, don’t you, baby? Want us to go to our limit? Want us to give you our all, huh? Are you going to milk us all dry like a good slut?”

You could hardly listen to his breathy, self-serving monologue, not with the way Wooyoung was gripping your hips and shoving his thick cock into you with abandon, like you were his own personal sex doll. “Uh-huh, wanna be good for you all…”

“How precious,” San sighed under his breath, all while he jerked himself off, beads of pre-cum spilling out of the twitching tip, watching the way his closest friend pumped himself in and out of your clenching hole, noticing the way his hips began to stutter. “Then, be good and take Wooyoung’s load inside that tight little cunt of yours, just like you took our Captain’s and Seonghwa’s earlier, okay? Can you do that for us, baby? Can you be our pretty little cum dump?”

You couldn’t speak, simply responding by squirting all over Wooyoung’s thrusting cock, just about ready to fall over from the overwhelming pleasure, but unable to with the way Mingi was behind you, his heaving chest pressing into your back, his ringed fingers lazily groping at your sore tits, balls-deep in your tight ass.

“Pretty baby, our pretty girl,” Mingi praised in a gravelly voice, his lips against your ear, squeezing your tits just as his groans began to crescendo, driving himself into you a few more times before he held still, previous loads leaking out of your ass and down the sides of his veined cock to the base as he filled you up again. “Can you feel that, babydoll? Feel the way I’m stuffing you full of cum? It feels so good, you want to cry, don’t you?”

All you could do was nod drunkenly, tears pricking at the corners of your hazy eyes, your trembling thighs growing more and more numb.

“Look at her, guys, she’s cumming just from being bred,” Wooyoung panted out, his hands squeezing into your sides, holding you still on his pulsing cock, not attempting to pull out until he was sure your inner walls were coated with his cum, chuckling smugly along with his fellow members at the way you desperately drew in another shaky breath and simply whined instead of forming words. “Poor slut can’t even talk. Someone should shoot their load down her throat. Maybe it’ll help ground her.”

“Way ahead of you,” Yeosang softly interjected, giving you a princely smile as he walked up to where you were positioned on the lengthy couch. He ran his slender fingers through your hair, slowly angling your head back as he did, bringing his slicked-up cockhead to your parted lips. “Say ‘ahh’, darling.”

Just as you obeyed, you watched Yeosang’s pretty flushed face contort in pleasure, reaching out to wrap your fingers around his pulsing length, milking it for all it’s worth, rope after rope of hot cum shooting into the back of your throat, a few dribbles remaining on your tongue. You were so full of cum, all of your holes were used up, and yet you needed more. “Not enough…More, please. I’m being such a good girl, aren’t I?”

San’s teeth sunk into his bottom lip, sharing glances with the other members, squeezing around the base of his cock to keep himself from busting right then and there. “Guys, I think we broke our manager.”

“Isn’t that the point? Look at her. She loves it,” Wooyoung pointed out, motioning to your blissed-out face, before he finally pulled out of you, reaching down to spread open your used hole, pleased sighs echoing inside the room. “Look, Sannie, her cunt’s all messy now. Ran through. Just the way you like it, huh, you sick fuck? You want sloppy seconds?”

San nodded his head, salivating, practically in a trance.

“Then, hurry up and shove your cock inside her before my cum leaks out,” Wooyoung tsked, climbing off of the cum-stained couch and smacking his hand against San’s ass to get him to spring into action, which he did, laying down on his back and sliding you down onto his cock inch by inch, but not before he tapped his leaking cockhead over your swollen clit a few times for good measure.

San’s dimples accompanied his shit-eating grin as he bottomed out, slowly running one of his hands up your lower abdomen to feel the outline of his stiff cock. “It’s so big inside, isn’t it, Manager-nim? Am I stretching you out nice and wide?”

All you could do was whimper pathetically, because not only were you taking San’s curved cock inside your cunt, but meanwhile Mingi had been showing Yunho the way your hole had begun to gape after the rough treatment you had taken, especially from someone with his size, knowing it was best that he prepped you for his best friend, knowing the term ‘horse cock’ didn’t even begin to describe what Yunho had to offer you. “It’s all for you, bro. Come and get it,” Mingi mused huskily, getting out of Yunho’s way so that he could replace him, one hand on your ass to keep it spread open for everyone’s viewing pleasure, as your hole slowly swallowed up Yunho’s obscene girth.

San and Yunho seemed to be in the middle of an intense competition, considering the way they both would continually thrust into you harder, and faster, grabbing at your tits and hips for leverage to fuck into you even deeper than before, if that was possible. “I-it’s not a–fuck–race, guys,” you cried out, suddenly being pressed back into Yunho’s warm chest when San sat up on the couch and folded you up, jack-hammering himself into you, using you like a cocksleeve.

“Yes, it is, and I’m gonna knock you up first, not this loser,” San grunted out in between shaky moans, smiling with his canines at you, then at Yunho past your shoulder, who responded by bucking his hips up into you so roughly, he had to wrap his arms around your middle to keep you in place.

“I’m fucking her ass, dumbass, I can’t even knock her up if I wanted to,” Yunho replied breathlessly, shaking his head, giving San a playful smile, before pressing his lips to your earlobe. “And I want to, tiny. Wish I could.”

“Not with that attitude,” San huffed, blowing his sweaty bangs out of his eyes, his vision beginning to blur with the sudden onset of pleasure surging through him. “I’m going to fucking–unnnh–fill up your slutty cunt with my cum, baby. Gonna make it so messy. And you’re, fuck, you’re so tight now. That’s our good cumslut.”

“The perfect cumslut,” Hongjoong interrupted in a low voice, suddenly towering over you, holding his cock near your mouth, nodding approvingly when you began to suck and lick at the tip. “That’s right. You love Captain’s cock the most, don’t you, pretty girl?”

Seonghwa pushed his way past the other thirsty members who were hovering around you like vultures, slipping his fingers into your hair and gently guiding you to his own cock, cooing at you approvingly when you let it hit the back of your throat. He smiled smugly at Hongjoong, who was now side-eyeing him. “Stay mad. It’s not my fault she has taste.”

“You better watch it, Seonghwa.”

“You can watch our slut suck my cock.”

Hongjoong grumbled to himself, reaching down to tug your head back just firmly enough to lead you back to his cock, before you took it upon yourself to sandwich their lengths together so that you could please them both at once. They stopped bickering and instead held onto each other, biting into their lips as their highs began to take over.

It was then that San and Yunho emitted similar sounding guttural groans, fully sheathing themselves inside you, their fingers squeezing tightly into your hips from either side.

“Cumming,” they both exhaled, resting their heads on either side of your shoulder, beads of sweat dripping down their jaws and along their straining necks.

Just as hot cum poured into both of your used holes, Seonghwa and Hongjoong began to shudder and grunt out obscenities, aiming their milky streams towards your lolled-out tongue.

San suddenly waved for Jongho to come closer, pulling out just enough so that obscene globs of cum began to leak out of you, making you whine. “Here, cum inside her, JJong. I want my favorite maknae to finish our cumslut off.”

Jongho gingerly positioned himself near your gushing entrance and plugged you back up with his thick, throbbing cock, his strong thighs smacking into your delicate ones as he vigorously bounced you on his lap. “Want it?” he simply asked near your lips, making you blush.

“Please!”

Just as Jongho pounded his load and the others deep into your womb, Wooyoung, Yeosang, and Mingi pushed their way closer to you, vigorously jerking themselves off in order to leave their own individual mark on you for the second or third time, extremely pleased with themselves once they covered their dear manager’s face and body in their cum.

Once you all came down, you found that you couldn’t quite operate your body properly, not when your lower half was completely numb and throbbing with residual pleasure. San and Yunho took it upon themselves to cuddle you from either side, while Jongho gently rubbed your tummy in circles, wondering whose load would knock you up first. Only time would tell.

“How was that?” San asked softly near your ear.

“We weren’t too rough with you, were we?” Yunho murmured, biting his lip.

“How are you feeling, Manager-nim?” Jongho added gently, patting your tummy.

You sighed gently, reaching up to pat their heads, smiling at the men around you. And to think you actually got paid for this. You couldn’t have asked for a better job. “Guys…I’m fine, and for the record, it was so good, I don’t think I can ever go back to having normal sex again. I’m a bit concerned, actually.”

The rest of the members began to laugh, and you joined along, before clearing your throat, suddenly feeling uncomfortably sticky, looking down to see what you had all done to the poor couch. “Okay, so, who’s going to clean this mess up? And, it’s not going to be me. I can’t move my legs. I…think you guys actually broke me.”

San looked over to Wooyoung, who was already rolling his eyes, pointing dramatically at him. “I told you!”

Apply for the taglist here ⇢ ♡

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez mingi #ateez x reader #san smut #san x reader #yunho x reader #wooyoung x reader #mingi x reader #wooyoung smut #yunho smut #mingi smut #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #kpop smut #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong smut #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa smut

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jessehart · 10 months ago

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Jesse's chest heaved in pants, his anger both somehow spent and only scratching the surface. He watched her all the while, expecting to feel anything as she looked away, as her face fell, as she finally broke and showed him something. But he didn't. Maybe nothing would fix this. Maybe it was just another scar to collect, another reminder that people were terrible and if he didn't want to be destroyed by them, then he needed to be worse than them.

"You don't know," he repeated with a harsh, humorless laugh. He wasn't looking at her now, his eyes cutting towards a wall as he slowly ran a hand over his mouth. Images threatened at the periphery of his mind, unwelcome snippets of her with him, of them laughing, reveling in all the ways they'd bested him. It made him sick. His gaze snapped back to her for only long enough to spit, "You're a fucking liar."

And then he was gone.

Her head ripped away from Jesse's words, her face hidden in her collarbone like that meant she could escape his scolding. In all their back and forth, in all the time they spent fighting, she had never seen him so full of rage. His composure was most notable during those times, Rhia could barely register his voice as his own. She shuddered as sweat dripped down her brow, suddenly feeling puny and beneath him. She couldn't bear to look at his face, tell him she felt every bit of worthless as he wanted her to feel.

Why had she chosen Jesse's father? He was a favorite client of hers, and he payed top dollar even for Rhia's taste. And in those times when Jesse's love ran dry, she could still feel close to him in some twisted, Hamlet-esque way. It was a sick comfort, but comforting nonetheless. Jesse deserved a worthy answer, he deserved an apology because regardless of what he did she'd already committed the worst slight. In reality, all she could muster was a pitiful, "I don't know." Her eyelids hung heavy and a deepset frown settled on her face as she looked back at Jesse. "I am sorry," Rhia gave, preemptively knowing it would do nothing to console him. At the very least, maybe he would stop looking at her the way he was. "I'm sorry," she whispered again.

#c: rhia #event: hoco23 #we can end here or on your reply! <3

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nereidprinc3ss · 10 months ago

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do you believe me now? | 3

in which spencer reid spends a rainy day teaching inexperienced fem!reader how to touch him. of course, her efforts don't go unrecognized, much less unrewarded

series masterlist

18+ (smut) warnings: inexperienced reader, softdom!spencer, sub reader, oral m receiving, reader swallows lol, a truly sickening amount of praise, like really, you JOKINGLY refer to each other as dirty sluts, r has longish hair, spit mentioned once, thigh riding (moans loudly), its filthy idk what to tell you, i feel like i've crossed the desert on foot i don't even know what else is in here, your honor they're in love, i take you to dinner first, this part is stupidly long a/n: had a fucking field day the three separate times i had to rewrite this el oh el... but think i like how it turned out?! anyway, if u like this PLS lmk bc writing it took a small piece of my soul, and yes there will be a part four!! take care of yourselves!! i love you!!!

You give Spencer half a minute or so before knocking on his door for a second time.

It’s miserable outside, and though the hallway you’re standing in now isn’t terribly cold, you’d much prefer to be in Spencer’s apartment, where it will be the same toasty 68.5 degrees as always. Not that the heating will magically dry you. And not that you’ll be there for long, if the date you’d scheduled last week goes on as planned.

You’re getting worried, about to knock for a third time when the locks finally click and the door opens to reveal a disheveled Spencer Reid—not at all looking ready for a date. You take in his ensemble; blue checked pajama pants, FBI Academy crewneck, the usual questionably paired socks. He’s rubbing his droopy eyes, which slowly widen as he notices your attire.

“Shit, I’m sorry, our date! I mean—you look really nice. I look… like this. Why don’t you come in while I get ready to go?”

He holds the door open a little wider and you step through, relishing in the familiar warmth as you pull your hood down and excess water droplets spatter on the ground.

“When did you get in?” you ask, hanging your raincoat up on a hook. You know he’d wrapped up a case yesterday evening, but you’d gone to sleep before the team left Cincinnati.

Spencer pauses in the middle of the room, staring at the antique flooring like he forgot what he was doing.

“Uh… four hours ago.”

“Wh—four hours? Spencer, you must be exhausted.”

He laughs awkwardly, running a tired hand over his face.

“I mean… I’ve definitely felt better.”

You kick your soaked shoes off and cross the room until you’re toe to toe with him. Immediately his hands settle on your waist and yours find his arms. His eyes are kind, and he’s clearly pleased by your presence despite his lack of energy.

“The weather’s terrible, anyway. Let’s just go out another day.”

His features have softened and you can see how tired he truly is—not just in his bleary eyes, but the way his fingers grasp weakly to you, the way his head bows slightly. It seems bone-deep.

“But I haven’t seen you in a week. I don’t want you to go home.”

Your lips twist. A clap of thunder rolls in the distance and the rain starts coming down even harder against the windowpanes.

“We could hang out here. We can take a nap!”

Spencer sighs—half resignation, half disappointment.

“But we made such good plans,” he laments.

You kiss his cheek.

“Plans that can be rescheduled. The bookstore will still be there next weekend.”

It takes him a moment to settle into the idea, but you watch the exhaustion win.

“Okay. But no nap. I want to be awake for you. Coffee?”

You nod enthusiastically, beaming at the prospect of getting to spend the day doing nothing with him. Spencer mirrors your grin, before pressing a kiss to your head.

“You’re so cute.” Heat creeps into your cheeks and you can’t think of a satisfactory reply, but in the end you don’t need to, as he tugs gently on your hands. “C’mon. Tell me what mug you want.”

The kitchen counter bites into your palms as you lean with your back to it, watching Spencer putter all around the kitchen as he works on the coffee. It makes you tired just to watch.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take a nap? Caffeine isn’t a substitute for sleep, you know.”

“I do know,” he agrees, measuring coffee grounds. “But other than last night, I actually slept fairly well this week.”

“You seem exhausted.”

“I… am tired in lots of ways. Not all of which can be resolved with more sleep.” he admits.

Your heart drops ever so slightly at the way his voice weakens as he looks through the fridge. Sometimes you remember there are still things you don’t know about him—sides you haven’t met. His work side is one of them, and it more than a little intimidates you.

“Bad case?” you ask, voice quiet and crackling with nervous energy.

Spencer nods, approaching and setting a carton of milk on the counter behind you—caging you in with his arms in the process. It’s hard to find the words when he’s this close, but you manage to stumble through them.

“Do… do you wanna talk about it?”

Spencer hums, tilting his head before gently saying, “not right now. But thank you for offering, lovely.”

“Okay, well—if you change your mind… if there’s anything I can do to make you feel better…”

Finally he stops with the teasing—the unabashed staring at your lips, the faux-attentive nods—and drops his head to your level to kiss you properly. It’s obviously an attempt to get you to shut up, you’re not dumb enough so as to miss that—but you don’t really care why he’s doing it so long as he does it at all.

“I feel pretty great right now, actually,” he murmurs against your lips, a hint of a smile coloring his words. “Do you want sugar in yours?”

“Um…”

Your eyes dart helplessly between his as he pulls away and you struggle to un-fluster yourself enough to answer his simple question. Spencer seems to delight in this. The longer it takes you, the bigger his perfect smile gets.

“You took too long. You’re getting sugar.”

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?” you plead later on the couch, for the third or fourth time, setting your mostly-empty mug on the coffee table.

His eyebrows raise.

“I’m sure, honey.”

“But I want to help,” you pout, pulling your knees into your chest. Spencer regards you for a moment from the other end of the couch, before beckoning you closer wordlessly.

“You are helping,” he assures you, gently grabbing your wrist as you crawl into his lap. He rubs soothing circles into the delicate skin with his thumb. “You being here and being you is plenty.”

It’s the closest you’ve been to him since before he left, and while you’ve all but given up on asking him to sleep with you, it doesn’t mean you don’t think about it multiple times per day. It’s especially difficult to keep your thoughts PG when you haven’t seen him in a week, and his hair is all messy, and he’s got his pajamas on, and you’re in his lap, and he’s looking at you like that.

“What are you thinking about?” Spencer murmurs, likely concerned by your lack of response and the glazed-over look in your eyes. You reanimate, averting your gaze to the spot on your thigh he’s now rubbing absentmindedly.

“Nothing. I just missed you.”

“I missed you a lot, too.” You don’t even have to look up to know that his brows have twisted into a pleasant sort of bemusement, like you are a particularly complex puzzle—you can hear it as he continues speaking. “I’m still not used to having something external take up so much of my attention while I’m trying to do my job. I’ve never had that before. Not something good, anyway. It’s like every time I leave, I’m thinking about you more than the time before. And I was already thinking about you a lot.”

The corner of your mouth twitches as he rambles.

“Really?”

“Yeah, really,” he chuckles. “You prove to be incredibly distracting even when you’re hundreds of miles away. Do you know how many nights I almost called you before realizing it was one in the morning?”

A slow smile spreads over your face.

“Oh? Whatever could you have been calling about at one in the morning?”

You’re teasing him, and it works. He blushes adorably.

“Um… probably exactly what you’d expect. In hindsight I think it’s best that I refrained.”

“What?” You grin, incredulous, forgetting your shyness and leaning closer. “You totally should’ve. I’ve never had phone sex before. I would’ve done it.”

“No, you wouldn’t!” Spencer laughs. “It would have just been me talking to myself with you on the other line. I don’t think phone sex is really up your alley.”

“Shut up,” you laugh as your lips meet. He smiles into the kiss. Before you get too lost in it, you pull away, leaning back when he tries to follow you. “I think you’re over-complicating it. It’s just dirty talk, right? I can totally do that. It’s just, like… blah blah blah, dirty slut, something something…”

You trail off as he gives you a look. Poker faced—aside from the slightly narrowed eyes sparkling with humor.

“You want me to refer to you as a dirty slut?”

Maintaining eye contact is an uphill battle—you crack in a matter of seconds, resting your forehead against his and closing your eyes stubbornly.

“No. For all you know I want to call you a dirty slut.”

It’s ridiculous, but he recognizes the bravado for what it is, still smiling slightly as he rubs your hips.

“Right. I apologize for assuming. But just for future reference, I don’t want to be called that, and I don’t think I’d be comfortable calling you that, either.”

“But you can call me other stuff,” you remind your boyfriend, pulling back and still not looking at him.

“Yeah? Like what?”

And just like that, you’re shy again.

“I don’t know… nice things. I like when you’re nice.”

“I like being nice to you.” It’s so sincere-sounding that you meet his gaze, examining his face. His eyes are clear and soft on you, the only source of warm light on such a grey day, as his hands keep running slow lines over your sides. “Kiss?”

And how could you ever deny him anything?

As has happened before, the kiss starts out innocent enough. And it’s not that it gets particularly heated, or anything—it’s just that it doesn’t end, and after a few moments your mouth slips open and so does his and that’swhat gets both of you worked up over a period of minutes. Pressure and heat that you’re becoming accustomed to build between your legs, and you don’t even notice that you’ve begun rocking back and forth in his lap until Spencer is attempting to still your hips with patient but assertive hands.

“Honey, that’s—slow down, sweetheart.”

Finally he gets a grip on you and you realize as soon as you stop moving that there had been friction occurring—and you’re pretty damn sure you know what you were grinding against.

Your whole body feels hot with arousal and embarrassment.

“Oh my god—I’m sorry,” you mumble, moving your hands from his shoulders to cover your face. “That was an accident, I—”

“It’s fine,” Spencer assures you, squeezing your waist gently. “I just wanted to make sure you knew what you were doing because I know we haven’t… gotten there, yet.”

A moment passes—your hands fall to the FBI stitching across his chest, studying the letters without really seeing them. You haven’t gotten there yet… but why not? Why haven’t you touched him, or even seen him? You think back to the few times he’s touched you and realize that you had been too busy with either your own insecurities or pleasure to genuinely consider how it might be affecting him. He says your name gently, drawing your attention.

“You okay?”

You nod haltingly, brow furrowed as you think.

“I—yeah. I was just realizing that I haven’t, like… touched you, yet.”

It’s silent for another long second, and you glance up, to where he’s studying you with a dissonant kind of relaxed scrutiny—a knowing confidence that probably comes with a lot more experience than you have.

“Do you want to?”

Woah.

Usually you have to beg on hands and knees and prepare a slideshow presentation before he agrees to doing anything sexual in nature. He’s never so overtly invited or initiated it before. Not that you’re complaining by any stretch of the imagination.

You nod shyly, still fiddling with the fabric of his shirt.

“If you want to, I can show you how. But it’s also absolutely okay if you don’t.”

Show you how?

Your brain is melting into sludge at the idea.

“I do,” you admit, meeting his gaze again. It’s kind, and you know he really wouldn’t be upset if you said no—but now that you’ve thought about it, you feel deeply compelled to try.

“Okay. Come here, first.” You lean forward expectantly, eyes fluttering shut as his hand finds the back of your neck and he pulls you into another soft kiss. By the time your lips separate again, your head is spinning. “We’re just trying something, okay? You’re allowed to stop whenever you feel like it. Really low stakes. Got it?”

You nod, still close enough that your noses brush as you do.

“Got it.”

He presses one more chaste kiss to your lips before pulling away and leaning back into the couch.

“Scoot back a little, angel.”

Wordlessly you do so, heart pounding with nervous excitement as he lifts his hips and slides his pajama pants down just enough to where he can comfortably pull himself out, and—

Your breath catches.

Now, you may be about as virginal as they come, but you weren’t born yesterday. You’ve seen porn, you’ve received unsolicited nudes—it is the 21st century. Yet never before have you thought to yourself; wow, that dick is the pinnacle of beauty. Perfect. Breathtaking. But there’s just no other way to describe him.

So that’s what hits you first—how unexpectedly pretty it is.

The size sinks in a quick second later.

You can’t tell with perfect accuracy how many inches he is, but you’re pretty damn sure he’s big. That’s meant to fit inside of you?

No, no—that’s a consideration for another day. Right now you need to stop staring like an idiot. You glance up at his face, and he’s sporting a cocky little half-smile which lets you know you’ve been caught. Motherfucker he’s so hot. It’s unnerving.

“Do you have something you’d like to say?” he asks politely, quite obviously containing his amusement. But you can’t summon a sufficiently sarcastic response.

Your voice comes so soft when you reply, “you’re pretty.”

Spencer melts, eyes impossibly softening.

“Pretty?” His smile is earnest now. He strokes your cheek and you can’t not lean into his touch.

“Mhm. I want to, um…” your lips twist to the side as you look back down, finding he’s not gotten less intimidating since you last checked. “But what if I’m bad at it?” you whisper. He chuckles, brushing hair over your shoulder.

“It’s kind of a hard thing to be bad at. And I’m gonna help you, okay?”

It’s the honesty with which he speaks to you that makes you feel so safe. There are no hidden intentions or words that seem to mean one thing but really mean another. Spencer wants you as a person more than he wants you as a body and that’s been clear since the first time he touched you. You take a deep breath.

“Okay. What do I do?”

“First, you’re gonna spit in your hand.”

You look up, alarmed.

“You want me to intentionally get my spit on you? Is that not your worst nightmare?”

“Believe it or not, I’m not super worried about yours,” he teases. “But if you’d prefer, I can spit in your hand.”

“Actually, mine is fine,” you laugh nervously.

Hesitantly, you do as instructed, even though it seems frankly bizarre.

“Good. Now just wrap your hand around it, like this.” His voice is quiet, focused as he guides your hand downward. Your heart rate ticks up again as he encourages you to wrap your hand around the base of his cock. He feels much warmer than you’d expected—his skin is silken beneath your touch but he’s undeniably hard and that sort of eliminates any sense of him being fragile from the equation.

“It’s gonna be less sensitive down here—and then, up here—” he slides your hand back up, covering your thumb with his own and swiping it just below the head of his cock on the underside. He hisses and you look up in fascination. “That’s the most sensitive part.”

Without further instruction, you do it again, keeping your touch light and watching his face for a reaction. His drawn brows twitch, furrowing deeper for a second, and his lips part. A heavy exhalation passes between them and quickly builds into a breathy laugh.

“What?” you murmur, over-eager to please and very nervous to do something wrong.

“Nothing. Just feels good, that’s all.”

“Don’t laugh,” you pout. Of course that makes him laugh again, and he leans forward to kiss your head.

“I’m laughing at myself, angel. I’m a grown man fighting for my life from a handjob that you’ve barely started. I knew it would be different with you but I didn’t realize it would be this different.”

Heat rises in your cheeks and you look away.

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better.”

“I’m not lying,” he urges, grabbing your free hand and encouraging you to uncurl your fingers. His thumb traces circles in your open palm, before capturing your entire hand in his. “Do you feel how much softer your hand is than mine?”

You frown, attempting to feel whatever it is that he’s pointing out. Despite the fact that you think he has very nice hands, you realize he’s right. By no means would you say that they’re rough, but you can tell where his gun normally sits in his hands, where his fountain pen rubs against his fingers. “Yeah.”

“Yeah. Anything you do is going to be perfect because it’s you.”

Spencer drops his hand to your leg, rubbing it soothingly. The other moves to cover yours—the one wrapped around him.

“You’re gonna help me, right?” you ask quietly. Some adventurous part of you is very excited about this as an experiment—fascinated by the reactions you’ve already gotten from him and eager to push it.

“I am. Little bit tighter, honey. I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”

You do as you’re told, and he’s murmuring more praise—slowly encouraging you to begin moving your hand with his own. A shaky exhale catches your attention, drawing your gaze to his face. His eyes are, of course, cast downward, but his expression is hypnotizing. Those lips remain slightly parted, and suddenly you wonder if he makes noises like you do. In that moment it becomes your life’s mission to find out.

For a while you continue letting his hand guide your movements, but he keeps things so slow for your sake that you’re getting impatient. You forgo his direction, picking up the pace but trying to keep the rhythm he’d instilled in the motion. His hand slackens around yours.

“Fuck,” he hisses to himself. The hand on your thigh rubs achingly deeper into the flesh. “Angel, what are you doing?”

“I want it to feel good.” Suddenly shy again, you slow down. His hips stutter, which you think may be a sign that it was working. “Am I—was that bad?” Spencer looses a breath, looking almost… frustrated?

“No, I’m just—I’m weirdly close to coming.”

“That’s a good thing, right?”

“Well,” he mutters, “not usually. Mostly it’s embarrassing.”

You giggle, a release of some tension, and begin pumping your hand again. His breath hitches and he finally looks up at you, meeting your eyes with his own lust-glazed ones. Heat pools deep between your legs.

“I want you to come,” you admit quietly as you twist your wrist, brushing that spot underneath the head of his cock again. His jaw literally drops, and a look that is part confusion, part pleasure, twists his features. You see the surprise sparkling in his eyes and it only spurs you to keep talking. “I’ve never seen how you look when you do, but I’ve imagined it. I bet you look so pretty when you come, Spencer. ‘Nd then I would know that I can make you feel good, too.”

“You… you are making me feel good,” he assures you. The way his brow furrows and his lips are parted give you a feeling that’s entirely new. Normally, you’re the one falling apart under his touch—but when it’s the other way around there’s a whole new kind of pleasure in it for you. You feel kind of powerful. Maybe even close to confident.

“Really? I’m not this quiet when you touch me.”

“I’ve ha—ah—had more practice not making noise.”

“But why?” you implore, ignoring the fact that he’s slept with other women and enjoyed the sounds they made, and opting to brush your thumb across that extra sensitive part he definitely shouldn’t have told you about. His hips buck up and he hisses, which is immensely gratifying to you.

“Because I like to listen.”

“What if I do, too?”

In a moment of divine inspiration , you cover the tip of his cock with your hand, swirling beads of pre-come over your palm. Spencer moans and his hips jut up into your grip. It’s a beautiful sound, just as you’d hoped.

“Jesus, fuck.”

You understand why he seems to enjoy touching you so much. It’s so rewarding to watch as his breathing picks up and pleasure contorts his face—to watch him get messier and messier and lose his composure a bit more with each stroke of your hand. It��s so simple but Spencer looks at you like you’re exercising some arcane deviant power over him and he’s not sure he should be enjoying it as much as he is.

Distantly you think about how it felt when he had his hands on you—and then, in clearer focus, how it felt when he went down on you. Both were perfect, but something about his lips so gentle on the most intimate, vulnerable part of you had felt like ascension. Maybe it was the emotional component, or maybe it just felt fucking good. Regardless, it seems an irresistible thought.

You keep stroking him until his head is lolling on the back of the couch as he groans.

“Spencer?”

“Yeah, baby?”

He sounds so destroyed it makes you clench around nothing. Without any indication that you’re going to do so, you stop touching him, and the speed with which he lifts his head again is almost comical. Immediately, while he’s utterly defenseless and desperate, you ask, “can I use my mouth?”

His eyes widen, and then shut, as he processes your request with a tiny shake of his head—probably trying to clear the haze of pleasure from his mind before he answers.

“Honey,” he rasps eventually, opening his eyes and smoothing a hand over your hair, “you don’t have to do that just because I do. That’s not why I do it.”

“But I want to,” you murmur, shy and mildly embarrassed by what feels almost like a soft rejection. “I don’t think I could do anything, like, mind-blowing, but… I want to try.”

Your face is hot by the end of the sentence, and you can’t meet Spencer’s eyes as his fingers twitch over your hip. A quiet moment passes—but it’s short-lived.

“Okay. Go ahead, baby.”

Wide eyes dart up to his.

“Really?”

Spencer smiles fondly, brushing an invisible speck from your cheek.

“I don’t think I’m capable of turning that offer down. Not when it’s you.”

“Okay—um, should I just—” Spencer watches on, finding your sudden enthusiasm completely adorable as you scoot off of his lap and gingerly kneel in front of him. Your eyes are big and glassy as you look up at him, hands set politely on his knees. You squint suspiciously, eyes darting between his face and his cock, now about as hard as it’s ever been due to your toying. He knows it’s probably intimidating for a girl who has never seen one in real life, and he feels kind of bad about it. You do terrible, wonderful things to him that he doesn’t understand. “Wow. So... it looks bigger from down here.”

“Please don’t try to choke yourself,” he instructs hurriedly, leaning forward slightly. “I really don’t need you to do that. It’s fine if you can’t fit it all, I just—” he exhales shakily. Spencer is most definitely strong-willed but he can’t pretend like the sight of you on your knees for him, inches from his aching cock for the first time isn’t impacting his cognition. Most importantly he doesn’t want to make you feel pressured. He’s trying to not let how badly he wants this show in case you change your mind.

Spencer watches as you psych yourself out—wilting like a thirsty flower.

“But what if I’m bad at this?” you mumble, hands curling into loose fists atop his legs. Spencer pushes your hair back, tucking it behind your ears.

“What’s your worst case scenario?” he asks. Your answer is immediate.

“That I’m so bad you make me stop halfway through.”

Spencer can’t help but laugh again.

“I’m sorry—I just… honey, you are really underestimating how profound your effect is on me. I just almost came from a minute long handjob. I can assure you that I won’t make you stop halfway through because I’d rather not have your mouth on me. That is… that’s just not going to happen.”

You lean your cheek against his thigh. He might actually pass away.

“Will you tell me if I’m doing something wrong?”

“Honestly, as long as you don’t bite, you’re in the clear.”

Your eyes squeeze shut and your lips pull into an embarrassed little smile.

“Great. Thank you for that invaluable advice.”

“Of course,” he smiles. It fades slowly as you take a deep breath and look up at him, obviously steeling yourself, before leaning forward and taking him in your hand again. He watches with bated breath, repeating no sudden movements to himself over and over as your hand moves up and down a few more times and your head lowers.

You delicately, so lightly trace your tongue from the base of his swollen cock to just underneath the leaking tip, mapping a vein, and his hips buck as you take him into your mouth experimentally. Only the first few inches fit but the sight of your lips wrapped around him, the way you’re looking at him is so unbelievably erotic Spencer knows he won’t last very long.

From a purely technical perspective—he knows he’s gotten objectively better head. Still, something about the way you’re so delicate with him, so soft and timid in the way you lick and kiss and take him into your mouth has him fighting not to come already. Maybe it’s wrong, but knowing that he’s watching you do this for the first time in your life is obscenely arousing. The idea that you’ve never trusted another person this much; that you’re letting him be the one to help you navigate something as new and as important as sexuality. The more he thinks about it, though, the more he realizes: it’s not your inexperience that turns him on. It’s just you. Everything you do is so undeniably you—he recognizes your mannerisms in every tiny motion, in every glance, and it’s killing him. You’re like a dream as you look up at him with big nervous eyes, (no, really, he has had this dream) and he remembers he wants to be reassuring you—not pondering life and human connection.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, groaning and hips twitching as your cheeks hollow, wrapping his achingly hard cock in soft gentle warmth so sweetly it feels taboo. “So good, baby. So gorgeous like this.”

You whine around him, receptive as always to his obsequious praise, and he notices the way your hips wiggle as you seek friction. God, you must like this a lot. Spencer gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail, resting his hand on your head as you begin to bob it. That, he wasn’t prepared for. He’d have been satisfied with just kitten-licks and suckling but he won’t complain about this. It’s slow, and so intentional as you keep watching him for feedback cues. Ever his observant girl, you’re constantly paying attention. Aware of his reactions. He needs to keep telling you you’re good or else you’ll assume you’re terrible.

“Over-achiever,” he whispers through a little smile as you down even more of him.

Spencer is for the most part a kind and gentle person. For better or worse he is also a man, and he can’t help but fantasize about getting you all teary and drooly as he holds your mouth open and sees how much of his cock he can push down your throat. But again—kind. Gentle. So when you get a little over-zealous, attempting to sacrifice your comfort for his pleasure, he pulls your head back slightly. “That’s far enough, angel. That’s—fuck. God, you’re good at this.” The words are thoughtless, muttered to himself more than you as he watches through a haze while you look up at him with glassy, half-lidded eyes, slipping him in and out of your warm mouth, a little faster now as you gain confidence.

You whine desperately around him, like you’re the one nearing orgasm and not him. The sound of your pleasure as you suck his cock makes him dizzy. His hips buck, pressing him a little deeper into your mouth. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he exhales. “Slow down, baby. I’m—” a louder moan from him like you’ve never heard as he thrusts shallowly turns you on profoundly. He’s so much more vocal than you’d have imagined—sonically and verbally. He breathes out a quick, “fuck, fuck, fuck,” pulling your hair slightly, and you’ve never wanted to touch yourself more but you know you can’t focus on both. Instead you work on making him come—you can worry about you later. He says your name, with an authoritative edge to his tone that makes you throb. “Honey, if you don’t stop, I’m gonna come—”

You swirl your tongue around the top of him like candy and he’s done for. Spencer tries to pull out, which only results in cum both in your mouth and on your face. The orgasm is his strongest in recent memory, and he grunts, watching your lips part and a little squeak escape as he comes all over your face—but you keep stroking him all the while. Once he’s 90% sure it’s over, he falls against the back of the couch, breathing heavily and looking down at you through hazy eyes. Oh, he’s going to feel terrible about this in a few seconds—but right now you look fucking perfect. Your eyes are wide, nervous as his essence drips over your face and down your neck—he groans when you swallow cautiously, averting his eyes to the ceiling lest he do another thing he regrets.

“Baby, I am so sorry,” he mutters, forcibly clearing the haze of orgasm from his mind and sitting up, fixing his pants and looking around before locating the box of tissues on the side table. “I’m so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” You look up at him attentively as he wipes himself from your face as gently as he can.

“Why not?”

“Because I didn’t ask you first. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

Spencer guides your head around by your chin, wiping your jaw and lips.

“It’s okay, Spence, I—”

“No, it’s not,” he cuts you off, trying to at least turn his guilt into a learning experience for you. He’s not deluded enough to think someone like you will stay with someone like him forever, because sometimes he does things like that, and he’s reminded that there are certainly people out there more deserving of you. At the very least he can clarify that nobody should ever do what he just did to you. “It’s really not nice to do that to someone.”

“Do you care what I think at all?”

Spencer freezes, finally forcing himself to look you in the eye. Despite the fact that he’s mad at himself, he’s sure it’s coming across as being directed at you. And he knows you’re sensitive, especially about this kind of thing.

“Of course, I do, baby. I’m sorry. Do you want to come back up here with me and tell me what you’re thinking?” he murmurs, cupping your jaw. Hesitantly you nod. The tissues end up on the table—which he will be thoroughlywiping down later—before you crawl back into his lap from the floor. Spencer helps you settle against him, hoping he hasn’t messed this up irreversibly. He keeps his voice quiet as he rubs your leg. “What were you going to say?”

“I was going to say,” you begin, “that it’s fine, because you’ll remember to ask next time. And because… I kind of liked it. I like when—when you do stuff like that.”

It’s a miracle he can hear you with the way your voice drops into an almost-whisper and you’re hiding against his shirt.

“Like what?” he murmurs. Although he’s not sure he’ll be able to handle the answer.

“Like… I don’t know. Like you can do whatever you want to me. Like I’m literally yours.” Each word makes you cringe further, but Spencer has to try hard to maintain a cool facade as he processes this. If he’s going to try and be chivalrous, you’ll have to move away from this topic—this revelation—immediately. Thankfully, you seem eager to move on. “So… how did I do?”

He almost laughs. It seems exceedingly obvious how you did, but as per usual, you require verbal reassurance.

“That was really good, baby. You did well.”

You blossom.

“Really?”

“I wouldn’t lie.”

“Was I the best girl out of all of the other girls?”

I wasn’t in love with any of the other girls.

Just barely, he manages to stop himself from saying it, pinwheeling his arms on the edge of a very steep verbal cliff. The realization that he’s been in love with you for a while hits him like a truck. But he can’t tell you that right now. He should wait until you’re less vulnerable.

Fuck.

He really wants to tell you right now.

“Actually—don’t answer that,” you decide, while all of this happens in his head in less than a few seconds. “I want to go back to pretending I’m the only girl you’ve ever seen in your life.”

“You’re the only one that matters,” he offers, relieved to express at least some portion of the much bigger truth. Then he frowns. “Not that the other women I’ve met don’t lead important lives. I actually know a lot of incredibly influential and intelligent people who are women. I have deep respect for all of them. Am I helping or making it worse?” he rambles. You giggle. He has his answer. “What about you? How do you feel?” he asks after a moment, tenderly, lowly, stroking your hair as you lean against his chest.

It takes you a moment to deliberate, fiddling with the fabric of his shirt.

“I feel good. I, um… liked it a lot more than I would have thought.”

“Well, that’s good. Much better than if you had hated every second of it.”

You hum in agreement, and he waits for you to say whatever you’re holding back. It comes sooner than he’d have anticipated.

“I feel bad about the times before. How did you just… go to sleep after? Were you not, like—insanely turned on? Not that I’m, like, irresistibly sexy, or whatever—you know what I mean.”

Spencer smiles because he knows you can’t see him.

“I wasn’t doing it to pressure you into feeling obligated to reciprocate, I guess. My line of reasoning was that it would be less intimidating if I didn’t even present it as an option until you wanted to try.”

“Oh.”

Spencer thinks he sees where this is going.

“Why?” he asks, leaning back and encouraging you to look at him. “Are you insanely turned on?”

“Wh—that’s—I didn’t say that!”

Spencer can feel how warm your cheeks are as he presses his lips to the side of your face.

“You can tell me if you are,” he murmurs, all smiley as he moves to kiss your lips. “If you want something, you need to ask for it. I’m not a mind reader.”

“Yes you are,” you grumble. “That’s literally what behavioral analysis is.”

Not quite true, but surprisingly, he doesn’t feel the need to explain to you the semantics of what he does for work right now.

“What got you all excited?”

“You know what,” you mumble, trying to look away again. Spencer doesn’t allow it this time, gently grabbing your jaw.

“Yes, I do. But I want you to tell me. If you want me to make you feel good, this is how you’re going to convince me that you deserve it.”

You whine wordlessly, looking at him with those big, lust-glazed eyes.

“You wanted me to teach you how to use your words, right? This is it. I’m giving you an opportunity. If you don’t want to, that’s okay. Maybe we can take a nap, like you said earlier.”

“No! I liked—um, I liked all of it. I didn’t know if I would, because I was really nervous. But when I first—you know—and you got all quiet… it was like you couldn’t even talk for a minute. I was kind of proud of that. Because normally nobody can ever get you to stop talking.” Spencer narrows his eyes incredulously, a small smile tugging at his lips. But he doesn’t interrupt—not when it seems you’re finally starting to get more confident in your words. “And I really liked the noises you made. I think that was my favorite part. I liked when you pulled my hair back, and how you spoke to me. And when… when you got me messy and I had to swallow it. I really liked how it felt because I couldn’t think of anything else, just making you feel good. I really wanted to… make you proud, I guess. Is that weird?”

Spencer shakes his head no, a fond smile on his face when your eyes meet his again.

“No. It’s a pretty normal thing to feel when you’re nervous and wanting to impress someone you care about. And I would have been proud no matter what, for the record. You were being very brave.”

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, watching him expectantly. Spencer should have known you’re too needy to truly absorb anything he says to you right now. Which is actually pretty cute. Everything you do is endearing to him.

“Stand up.”

You frown.

“But—”

“Just stand up,” he demands calmly, preferring to think of himself as firm and not bossy.

You do, looking rather annoyed and confused as you plant yourself in front of him.

“Why?”

“You are so full of questions.” His hands slip up the side of your legs, under your skirt, and hook in the waistband of your underwear. Spencer looks up at you meaningfully and you nod, swallowing.

As he pulls down, Spencer can literally feel the resistance of the fabric clinging to your soaked core. Under his touch the skin of your thighs is warm and soft. He wants to feel it on either side of his face, he wants to hear you whine as his stubble rubs against it, he wants to feel it clamp around his wrist, he wants it between his teeth and he definitely wants it pressing against his hips as he—

But no.

There will be time for all of those things—especially the last one—later. For now, he’ll reach between your legs just to see—

“Oh, my god,” Spencer half-chuckles, half-groans, upon feeling how wet you truly are for him. He drags his knuckles from your dripping entrance up over your clit, pinching very lightly and earning a squeak from you which he ignores. “You really did like having your mouth full of me, huh?”

“I told you,” you breathe, visibly relaxing some as he continues to play with you for a moment. Then he pulls his hand away again, patting his thigh.

“Sit.”

“You want me to…”

“Yes,” he says, simply.

“But is it not going to… am I not going to mess up your pants?”

“You are even more neurotic about messiness than I am. I can wash them, honey. Come here.”

Spencer guides your hips over his thigh, watching your pretty face twist with uncertainty as you fully settle on him. Fuck, he can feel your warmth through the fabric instantly. Already he’s getting hard again.

“What am I supposed to do?” you whisper, bunching his shirt in your fists. Spencer slides your skirt up higher, revealing the way you’re nestled against his thigh. He spreads you a little further apart, exposing more of your clit to the material underneath you. Immediately you press against him—he watches the delicate flesh rubbing gingerly against him and his grip tightens ever so slightly.

“All you have to do is rock back and forth. It’s easy.”

Already you’re starting to do it—but he guesses it’s like earlier where you don’t even realize it’s happening.

“But… I wanted your mouth,” you admit, quietly, slinging your arms around his neck and burying your face there.

“Do this for me first. Just get yourself off like this one time and then you can have my mouth. You said you wanted to help me feel better because I’m tired today, right?

“Yes,” you mumble, squirming over him.

“Well, there are a lot of days when I get back home and I’m tired. I’m gonna need you to be able to get on top of me, just like this, and make me feel better. And I know you don’t know what it feels like to have something that deep inside of you yet, but it’s gonna be a lot. Even once you know how it feels to have me inside when you’re underneath me. I need you to practice for me right now so you’ll be ready, okay?”

You could come from the words alone. You nod, dazed with need as you roll your hips in a circle, pressing his thigh against your clit.

“Back and forth, baby,” he murmurs, guiding your hips forward with his hands locked around them. “Back and forth, just like this…”

You moan quietly, shamelessly, eyes fluttering as you look down and watch your clit dragging over the darkening fabric. It’s easier if you isolate your hips, grinding down without moving your legs or upper body at all.

“It feels really good,” you whisper under your quickening breath.

“Yeah? Does it?”

“Mhm.”

“Good, angel. You look like you know what you’re doing.”

It’s audible now, quiet and wet and dirty.

“I don’t,” you breathe. He sucks in a breath of his own, stilling your hips with fingers pressed deep into your flesh.

“Sit up, baby.” You really wish he would stop making you stop, but you don’t want to keep going in case he needs you to quit—so you rise slowly, thighs trembling as you kneel. Spencer groans at the strings of your arousal momentarily connecting your core to his pants before they snap, getting your inner thighs wet. There’s a dark, very wet patch over his thigh, shining like glass. He thumbs over your slick clit absentmindedly as he looks up at you like you’re a miracle. “You’re fucking soaked. I’ve never seen you like this. Is this all from making me come?”

You nod feverishly, hips grinding against nothing in search of friction. He sits you back down on his leg, allowing you to sloppily find your rhythm again. Spencer bounces his leg lightly and you cry out softly, buckling forward. His arms wrap around you, still pressing you down against his thigh as you rut against it.

“You’re sweet. Maybe I should have known how much you’d like it when I came all over your pretty face. You really like hearing that you did a good job, huh? I bet you like it even more when I prove it to you.”

You moan a “yeah,” barely processing his words.

“My good girl even swallowed on her first try. Took it so well. And now look at how you’re taking this. You’re gonna love riding, baby. Just going to be another thing you’re good at as soon as you try it.”

“Spencer,” you gasp, overwhelmed by the praise. He’s bouncing his leg at regular intervals and everything is so sensitive.

“I know it’s harder to finish this way, but just one time, remember? And then you can have my tongue for as long as you want. You are my only plan for the day. Just give me one like this.”

But it’s not really harder to finish this way. Then again, you’re so turned on you could probably finish if a breeze hit you just right. Regardless, the thought of him going down on you again pushes you even closer to the edge.

You don’t know how much time goes by like that, you rubbing against him like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do, him pressing up into you until the pressure is so taut it snaps. There’s no time to warn him, but you suppose you don’t really need to. You writhe against him, caught between wanting to keep going and not being able to take more stimulation. He lifts you up just slightly, trying to separate you from his leg. You exhale deeply as your body relaxes, already close to dozing off against his chest.

“We can’t have you tapping out just yet. I still have to fulfill my end of the deal.”

In the end, he fulfills it three times over, and you end up showing your appreciation in kind one more time—much slower and more comfortably in his bed. He gives you plenty of time to learn what he likes, taking your teasing and coquettish explorations like a champ and never so much as tightening his grip in your hair. Turns out, you don't exactly spend the day doing nothing.

And you do end up taking that nap after all. Just... much, much later. And with less clothing on.

part 3.5

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds smut #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine

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pierregazly · 11 months ago

Text

but mama, i love him ꨄ oscar piastri smau

oscar piastri x leclerc!reader

the one where oscar's girlfriend has been soft launching their relationship for ages. and he's okay with it, especially if it means he can keep hiding in plain sight from her three overprotective brothers.

ynleclerc

tagged charles_leclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, arthur_leclerc, oscarpiastri, and others

ynleclerc omg omg omg... charles leclerc signed my hat? should i add it to the shrine? give them something to sacrifice?

view all comments

username any non-f1 fan would automatically assume ynleclerc is a crazy fan page for charles

username or a charles leclerc hate page... all she does it make fun of her brothers here

username she's offering her signed hat for the tifosi to sacrifice for a CL16 win??? that seems like pure love all around

arthur_leclerc i also signed your hat?

ynleclerc i also do not care? will a hat signed by you get me millions if i sell it for sacrificial purposes?

charles_leclerc what's next? my personal belongings?

ynleclerc is that an offer? if so, oui. i will take what i think will make me the most money next time i'm there, merci <3

scuderiaferrari if it gets us a 1-2 finish, sacrifice everything ynleclerc... please 🙏

username being a Ferrari fan is so satisfying when you remember ynleclerc is an automatic inclusion in everything and anything charles does

username the things i would do to have her as a McLaren fan... she's too beautiful for Ferrari 😭

oscarpiastri a piastri hat will get you good money in straya btw

username oscar??

oscarpiastri

liked by logansargeant, landonorris, mclaren, and others

oscarpiastri 'stop hitting me with the ball on purpose you jerk' was said more times than it should've been, by someone who really just sucks at tennis. had an awesome week back home, time to get back to it 💪

view all comments

logansargeant no wonder you're so worried about getting run over

username the coordinating outfits?? i'm gonna scream, who is she!!!

username what does logan know, tell us your secrets girl logansargeant

username oscar is gonna soft launch this relationship until the end of time. show us her face, you coward!!

ynleclerc did you pay her for all the bruises that tennis ball left?? poor girl

oscarpiastri it's not my fault she's a terrible tennis player, we all know i've offered to pay for a trainer

landonorris so this is why you couldn't come to bali with me 🤨

username lando really said i'm the third wheel??

username to be fair i'd probably pick oscar's girlfriend over lando for a week away too

username girly you don't even know who she is!!! she could be the devil

username i wanna be included in oscar's post week home photo dump :(

ynleclerc has posted a story

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, pascale.leclerc.355, and others

replies

oscarpiastri you can call me pookie whenever you want if you're gonna post things like this

ynleclerc i'd call you pookie with or without your permission, mon amour

charles_leclerc who is this

charles_leclerc why won't you tell us who you're dating

charles_leclerc we won't hurt him

charles_leclerc answer my texts

ynleclerc

liked by oscarpiastri, pascale.leclerc.355, arthur_leclerc, and others

ynleclerc get you a man who can do both, luckiest woman in the world whenever you're around. mon amour 🤍

view all comments

username people involved in formula 1 and their obsession with soft launching everything NEEDS to be studied

username at least she posts her boyfriend and he isn't just a small figure in the background of every post (charles this is a direct hate comment)

arthur_leclerc this would have been very lovely if it weren't for the last photo

liked by charles_leclerc and lorenzotl

ynleclerc suppose it's a good thing you could easily ignore it. cheers :)

pascale.leclerc.355 trés belle, ma fille 💗

charles_leclerc maman?

username could you IMAGINE if ynleclerc told pascale but obviously hasn't told her brothers? i can FEEL the outrage

username starting to think this may be a driver, ynleclerc is at every race weekend and ALWAYS makes a post with her mystery man at some point during the week after...

username okay ms sleuth (i think it's lando)

username i'm like 65% sure it's oscar, and 35% positive it's someone that looks a lot like oscar

ynleclerc

tagged oscarpiastri

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, landonorris, and others

ynleclerc someone exposed us on twitter, so i had to expose us on instagram 😮‍💨

comments on this post have been limited

oscarpiastri love you <3

oscarpiastri i will love you even when a ferrari has run me over, of course.

arthur_leclerc is this your way of telling me i was right, without texting me back?

charles_leclerc this must be a joke, non?

pascale.leclerc.355 so very excited to finally be able to invite the both of you for dinner. trés belle 🤍

charles_leclerc maman, you knew?

ynleclerc oscar and i will see you for sunday dinner, maman! <3

tresbelleleclercspam

liked by logansargeant, charles_leclerc, alexandrasaintmleux, and others

ynleclerc live feed of oscar running away from charles in the paddock when he said he 'just wanted to talk, mate'

view all comments

charles_leclerc i truly just wanted to talk about the race

charles_leclerc i did not have a speech planned, non

arthur_leclerc i did have a speech planned

lorenzotl i just wanted to welcome him to the family, as a good big brother should

oscarpiastri my apple watch warned me of an overactive heart rate 5 times today. why did you do this to me. why couldn't you have three sisters???

ynleclerc so very sorry, in our next life i'll try to make sure you only have to worry about sisters and not three overprotective brothers

oscarpiastri as long as i get to spend every lifetime with you <3

i actually got a request for something like this ages ago, and finally got around to finishing it. i so hope you all loved it as much as i loved writing it. thank you for all the support!!

i'm not currently taking requests, but if anyone has lil suggestions or prompts please feel free to send them.

#oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri imagine #f1 x reader #f1 x you #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri smau #f1 smau #f1 one shot #f1 imagine #f1 fluff #oscar piastri fluff #f1 #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #oscar piastri x you #my writing #smau

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menagerofmischief · 3 months ago

Text

Spill Your Guts (OP81)

summary: after revealing what she listens to in order to wind down, y/n ends up with an invite from her favorite podcast host to appear in the next episode

driver!reader x podcast host!oscar piastri -> habs incoming... series masterlist

cw: not fia approved words, reader teasing lando (they're besties), kissing, fluff, bad flirting, oscar being bullied by hattie

wc: 2.9k

a/n: this one is written + smau, with a bit of different formatting for the podcast episode. this one was fun to write, I hope y'all will like it and show it some love.

-> TAKE 1

“Hi,” you said, flashing a smile to the camera. “I’m Y/n L/n!”

“And I’m Lando Norris,” your teammate, sitting in a chair next to you in the video set up, said while waving his hand. “And we’re McTeammates!”

“Lando,” you said, shaking your head as you turned to look at him. “We talked about this. We drive for McLaren, we’re teammates but,” you lifted a finger up, pointing it at him. “We’re not, McTeammates.”

He rolled his eyes, sticking his tongue out at you. “Whatever you say, McGrumpy!”

“That’s it!” You said, pushing your chair away from the table and standing up. “I’m taking away your Gray’s Anatomy privileges.”

“You can’t do that, you bitch!”

“Try me, you little termite!”

-> TAKE 2

“Hi,” you smiled, lifting your hand up to wave at the camera. “I’m Y/n L/n.”

“Why do you always start?” Lando complained. “Like why isn’t my name first, I’ve been here longer.”

“Because I’m the lead in the championship and your nickname is last lap Lando.”

“That’s so fucking mean, you muppet!” He sobbed, wiping the corner of his eye to add to the dramatic effect. “What’s wrong with you - you know I’m sensitive about that.”

You sighed, putting your hand on his back and rubbing along his spine in a comforting manner. “I’m sorry, Lando, I didn’t mean it.” You said, putting your fingers into his locks and ruffling his hair. “We can do your name first, and you can start the video. How does that sound?”

He looked up at you, eyes shining with excitement, the previous dramatics instantly gone as he started nodding his head. “Deal! No take backsies!”

-> TAKE 3

“Hi!” Lando said, his voice full of enthusiasm as he waved at the same with a big grin. “I’m Lando Norris.”

“And I’m Y/n L/n!” You said, smiling at the came and praying this take was going to work out because if you had to start this video over one more time you were going to strangle your teammate.

“Today we’re answering your questions. which you had the chance to send us on Instagram and we put them in this bowl.” Lando explained, holding up the said bowl full of folded papers.

You pushed your hand into the bowl, running your fingers over the papers before grabbing one and pulling it out. You unfolded the paper, looking down at the printed words. “What is Lando afraid of?” You read the question, laughing a little. “Fish!”

“Hey!” He interrupted, snatching the paper from your hands. “It’s my question I’m supposed to answer!” He looked down at the paper, humming while nodding his head. “I’m also afraid of the dark.”

You bit your lip to stop yourself from making a comment, wanting badly to tease him about saying he was afraid of the dark.

Satisfied with his reply, Lando threw the paper away and dug into the bowl for the next one. He unfolded the paper, clearing his throat dramatically before reading out the question. “What does Y/n L/n listen to, to wind down?” His eyes snapped up, looking into yours. “Uh, I know this one!”

“I don’t care,” you replied, snatching the paper from his hands. “It’s my question.” You told him, returning his previous words back to him, which made him pout. “To wind down, especially after a race I listen to a podcast hosted by some Aussie guy named Oscar. The podcast is called Spill Your Guts, it has no specific theme and the host is a funny guy. Plus, he sounds cute.”

“I could have answered that!” Lando said, poking your arm with his finger. “I knew your answer word for word.”

“I’m sure you did Lando,” you said, nodding your head at him. “Now why don’t you pull out the next question?”

It’s a few days later, the video already long gone from your mind, when you walk into your driver’s room after a practice and flop directly onto the couch as soon as your helmet and balaclava are off, letting your body mold into the cushions after the exhausting practice.

You grab your phone and open it, eyes focusing on the new massage you had gotten while you were in the car. Your expression is confused as your eyes swipe over the number, not recognizing whose it is.

You enter the chat and after a brief moment of hesitation, you reply.

Your hands are shaking as you try your best to shove your phone into your pocket before jumping up, a scream tearing from your throat before you’re running to Lando’s driver’s room.

“Lando!” You yell, grabbing the door handle and pushing his doors open without knocking. He stops dead in his tracks and turns around to face you.

Lando holds both hands up, his mouth full of a chocolate doughnut that is half sticking out. He quickly grabs the part that’s sticking out and pulls it out of his mouth, swallowing the rest as fast as he can. “Don’t tell my trainer, please!”

Your eyes slide over to the half a doughnut in his hands and you shake your head at him. “I don’t care about that,” you tell him. “You’ll never believe what happened!”

“Max Verstappen got a 100 points penalty and you secured the championship?” He offers, deciding to finish his doughnut while he has a chance.

“No, I don’t think that’s possible,” you tell him. “But it would be great! What was I saying? Oh, yes!” You clap your hand before putting them on his shoulders and shaking him. “Oscar Piastri invited me to star in an episode?”

“Who?” He asks, his voice muffled by the treat in his mouth.

“The Spill Your Guts, guy!”

“You got invited to Spill Your Guts!?” Lando asks, swallowing the doughnut before looking at you with a smile. “You’re going to be on an episode of your favorite podcast?”

“Yes!” You laughed, smiling at him.

“How?”

You grabbed Lando’s hand and moved him over to the couch, flopping down into a comfortable position, you patted the spot next to you, signaling for your teammate to sit down. Once he did, you cracked your fingers and locked your eyes with his. “Okay, so…” and then started explaining.

OSCAR: Hello everyone! Welcome to tonight's episode of Spill Your Guts. Tonight’s guest is definitely the most famous person I’ve ever had sitting opposite of me if you don’t count my sister, with her 120k TikTok followers. Anyways, it’s my pleasure to welcome Y/n L/n to the studio!

Y/N: Hi, Oscar! And hello to everyone who’s listening in tonight. The pleasure is all mine really - I’m honestly so excited to be here. Just ask Lando, I’m pretty sure he’s gone deaf from all my screaming.

OSCAR: [laugh] Okay Y/n, settle in and fasten your seat-belt, we’re starting.

Y/N: I’m ready!

OSCAR: I’m sure you’ve been asked this many times but what’s it like being a Formula 1 driver?

Y/N: Thrilling. Every race week is a new adventure and the sport is really competitive so you’re constantly trying to prove yourself and set new records. There’s really no time to slow down.

OSCAR: I’ll be honest, it sounds a bit exhausting. Now, if you were a driver what would you be?

Y/N: Maybe a doctor [sigh] I’ve always been interested in medicine but racing is my life. But yeah, if I wasn’t a racer I’d probably want to pursue a career in medicine.

OSCAR: [hum] I can see it. You’d look good in scrubs. [both laugh] What’s your favorite Grand Prix?

Y/N: Two words Oscar - Las Vegas!

OSCAR: That’s a night race, yeah? Seem fun. Are you ready for some rapid fire questions now?

Y/N: Go right ahead, pretty boy.

OSCAR: [nervous laugh] Okay then, ready steady go! Wet or dry?

Y/N: Wet.

OSCAR: Monza or Monaco?

Y/N: Monza!

OSCAR: Blondes or brunettes?

Y/N: Brunettes [laugh] Australian ones preferably.

OSCAR: [very loud laugh] How cold are the ice baths?

Y/N: Very fucking cold.

OSCAR: Vettel or Alonso?

Y/N: None of them - Rosberg. Catch the reference.

OSCAR: I did! Catch the reference, that’s it. I watched that video to come up with questions.

Y/N: Oh, is the next question bums of boobs then? Because bums for sure.

OSCAR: That was not a question but thank you for answering it either way. Let me take a quick peek at the chat. boy4norizz wants to know who’s your favorite F1 teammate?

Y/N: [loud laugh] Oh God, Lando I’m gonna kill you! So, the only answer I can give you is Lando, because he’s the only teammate I’ve had in F1. But if I had another, it would definitely be them.

OSCAR: Cats or dogs?

Y/N: I like both but if I had to pick - dogs. I’ve got a dog actually, a goldie. His name’s Apollo.

OSCAR: I love goldies!

Y/N: You should come meet mine sometimes.

OSCAR: I might take you up on that. Now, last I checked you are the current lead in the championship, right? How does that feel?

Y/N: Still feels a bit unreal, if I’m being honest. Obviously every driver dreams about winning the WDC, and obviously only half of the season is done so I don’t want to be getting ahead of myself with the talk, but to actually be in the lead and have such a big chance to win it feels amazing.

OSCAR: I hope you do win it.

Y/N: Oh! [small pause] Does that mean you’ll be cheering on me?

OSCAR: Absolutely! You mentioned half of the season being done so that means summer break is approaching right?

Y/N: Yes, summer break starts after the next race.

OSCAR: Got any plans for the break?

Y/N: Depends. Are you free?

[few moments of silence and then both start laughing]

OSCAR: [catching his breath] Alright, thank you everyone for tuning in - and thank you to Y/n, for joining us. Enjoy the rest of your night.

liked by yourusername, landonorris, mclaren, hattiepiastri and 12,864 more

oscarpiastri: Another thank you to F1 star, Y/n L/n for joining us in tonight's episode of Spill Your Guts. And thank you for bringing the merch! Go stream the episode if you missed it!

tagged: yourusername

comments:

user01: call me crazy but they have so much chemistry

user423: you're not crazy girl, I literally felt like I was intruding userr: same! and her inviting him to meet her dog!! if they don't date I'll kms

ynsmclaren2: 'do you have plans' 'depends, are you free' WELCOME BACK SEBASTIAN VETTEL

user3: no because I literally screamed when I heard that userss: preach sister. they sound so good together I need them to date

yourusername: it was an amazing experience, 10/10 host would come back

oscarpiastri: dibs on getting the first interview when you win your championship? yoursername: deal user33: oh they're down bad

hattiepiastri: you're embarrassing me, you have her number use it

oscarpiastri: I'm telling mom you're mean to me hattiepiastri: do it no balls, she likes me more user454: I live for hattie bullying oscar

You look into the mirror one more time, raising your hands up to smooth down your hair for God knows what time that night. You push yourself forward, practically leaning over the desk so your face is directly in front of the mirror and run your finger over the edge of your bottom lip, making sure corners of your lipstick aren’t smudged.

“Stop that!” Lando says, picking up a makeup brush from the bed and throwing it at you. It’s times like these that make you wonder why you agreed to go on vacation with him. “You look great! I’m sure the pastry boy’s jaw is gonna dislocate from how hard it’s going to drop when he sees you.”

“That’s … definitely a mental image.” You reply, picking up the brush from the floor and throwing it back at him. “I’m nervous,” you admit, picking on the bits of skin next to your nails.

Lando gets up from the bed and approaches you. He smiles and lifts a hand up to pat your shoulder before deciding to pull in for a quick hug. “There’s no need to be.You’re a catch and if he screws us it’s his loss.”

You bite your lip, teeth digging into your bottom lip as you think it over. “Yeah, you’re right. Come on, I’m gonna be late.”

After pushing Lando out of your room you grab your purse and exit the room. The elevator ride down to the lobby feels like a small eternity, your stomach tied in knots by the time you finally step out in the lobby.

You make your way outside, a lump in your throat as you look around the busy street. Your eyes finally meet his and it’s like time slows down. He’s leaning against his car, dressed casually in pants and a T-Shirt, and holding a small bouquet of flowers.

You smile as you approach him and he mirrors your smile with his own. “These are for you,” he says, offering you the bouquet. “You look breathtaking.”

“Thank you,” you reply, taking the flowers from him, your fingers brushing against his. “And you don’t look bad yourself.”

He laughs in response, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards into a smile. He grabs the car door handle and opens the door, gesturing at it with his free arm. “Shall we?”

You can help but laugh, nodding your head you get into the car and he closes the door, going around the car and sitting in the driver's seat. “Where are we going?” You ask, settling back into the seat and pulling on your seat-belt.

“A little restaurant I used to go to with my parents and sisters when I was younger,” he tells you, starting the car. “Trust me, you’ll love it.”

f1wagupdates: new WAG in the paddock?

current championship lead and famous mclaren driver Y/n L/n, was spotted having an intimate dinner with Oscar Piastri, podcast host of Spill Your Guts, which L/n starred on and mentioned it being her favorite podcast.

after the episode she appeared in fans noted the flirting between L/n and Piastri. are the two finally together?

comments:

ynsmclaren2: I'm very happy for them but why don't we give them some privacy instead of photographing them going out to dinner

user332: hell yeah! my otp is real

user441: they look so cute together, I ship it

oscarpiastri: the term WAG stands for wives and girlfriends and is used for partners of athletes mostly because they are straight men dating women. the appropriate term to use in this situation is HAB because that stands for husbands and boyfriends and is therefore the same things as a WAG but for the other gender

oscarpiastri: if you're gonna gossip at least do it right user77: he ate I fear user667: f1wagsupdates you've been real quiet since this comment

oscarpiastri: #HABandproud

user11: please I love him user334: mclaren's media team is gonna have a field day user102: protect him from pr training at all costs

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“Stop biting your nails, it’s disgusting” Hattie said, slapping Oscar’s hand away from his mouth.

Oscar tore his attention off from the screen to glare at his sister before returning it to the screen once more. This was it, Abu Dhabi Grand Prix.

You and Max were tied in the points and this was not only the final race of the season but also the race that determined who would win the championship. Of course he was biting his nails, he was nervous.

“And to think mom said you’d never get a girlfriend sitting in a studio and hosting a podcast.” Hattie said, bringing a glass of water up to her lips and drinking from it.

“Why are you even here?” Oscar asked his sister.

“Your girlfriend invited me,” Hattie replied with a shrug of her shoulders. “She likes me more than you.”

Oscar was about to reply but the only thing that came out of his mouth was a gasp as he completely focused on what was playing out. He felt Hattie grab his hand, her nails digging into his skin.

“Verstappen is attempting a rather risky overtake on L/n, can she defend?” He heard the voice of the commentator ring out through the speakers. The whole crowd seemed to silence down as they watched the battle for first place, for the championship.

“Last lap, they can both see the checkered flag but who will cross it first?” Oscar held his breath. “Verstappen going wide … but L/n leaves no space! She moves fast, she moves fast and SHE CROSSES THE FINISH LINE!”

Oscar winced as Hattie screamed into his ear, both of them hugging each other before running down with the rest of the team to greet you when you got out of the car.

You pulled yourself out from the car, your heart practically in your throat, vision blurry with tears brimming in the corners of your eyes. You pulled your helmet and balaclava off, each searching the crows until they landed on Oscar who was smiling at you.

Without as much as a second thought you ran up to him, throwing your arms around him and kissing him. He kissed you back, full of passion, and his arms stroked your back.

When you finally pulled away he had the biggest smile on his face, lifting his hand up to cup your cheek. “So, about that championship win interview?”

You laughed, leaning your cheek into his hand. “It’s a date.”

tag list:

p1 @formula1-motogpfan @misty-inferno @thelemonque3n @marvel-hotchner @strangemaximoff

p2 @folkloresreputation @pippyth3hippy @adharacamdridge @theseerbetweenus @sebastianstansblog

p3 @tellybearryyyy @six-call @grussellsprout @oikarma @justcharlotte

p4 @annimausi @kodeelynn @schniti-is-in-the-house @cinnvmonrolls @cmleitora

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gabevargas · 2 months ago

Text

There she was, demeaning him again. Gabe shifted uncomfortably under in his chair as the coldness of her gaze penetrated his soul. Why did he find this sexy? "I am a big man," he barked back at her, fully sat up now in defiance of her, despite it being exactly what she had demanded of him.

Gabe's flinched and clutched his nose when she flicked it, "Hey, what the fuck?" He moaned, thick brows knitting together as he glared at her. He growled as she spoke, impatience growing. "Ay dios mío, no! If I had known that, I wouldn't have gone near her! I'm an asshole, but I'm not that bad," he exclaimed, huffing back into his chair with his arms folded. He was offended Selin thought so low of him. "So, stop hitting me... that hurt," he added, brown eyes watering as he rubbed his nose. It hadn't hurt, but his pride had taken a few knocks in the last twenty-four hours, so he was fragile, and her thinking that of him is what stung.

Despite last night's mistakes, he didn't push anymore with her and Leyla's relationship, as he knew when there was a line. That was their business, and he would never come between family. "I don't like you today — just so you know..." Gabe remarked as he stood to leave, making sure his back was to Leyla in the process. The last thing he needed was the other sister to notice him. He placed cash down on the table, enough for a very generous tip, like she had asked, mumbling under his breath once more. "You know, you're not the boss of me..." Gabe turned on his heel and stormed outside. "I'm going home to ice my jaw AND my nose," he called out to Selin as he walked to his car. He was in a mood with her now.

Selin could barely look in Gabe's direction, fuming that this was the fuckery she got dragged into so quickly upon returning to town. She should have known that karma would come back to bite her in the ass and she couldn't blame it on a past life because she'd done more than enough wrong in this lifetime. "Everyone enjoys a kiss when they're drunk, but who says you were memorable. Put the menu down and let her see that boy bruise after you're done hiding your face in your arms like the big man you are if you're so confident."

The words weren't meant to be as harsh because she did love Gabe, and he wasn't the worst person Leyla could be kissing— but her entanglement with it all made her way to shrivel up and die. Better yet if she could find a way to bring Gabe with her.

His saving grace in the moment was that Selin was too curious about Leyla's relationship with her employee to immediately reach over and hit the toe of her heel straight against Gabe's shin. The complication of Benny being so close to Leyla and Billie, with the addition of feelings, worried her to no end. It provided the risk of it all blowing up in their faces and her sister and niece being on the receiving end of a broken heart. As for Benny, she'd have to place him in a grave beside Gabe should he hurt her family.

Speaking of murder.... Her gaze flicked back to her friend, leaning forward to lower the menu and flick him upon the bridge of his nose, allowing her manicured nail to tap the bone with a satisfying 'thock' sound. "You knew he liked her and you made out with her? He should have hit you harder." Her head shook disapprovingly. "Nuh huh— you don't get to know anything about Leyla and I this close after what you did." Clearly their relationship was estranged but she wasn't going to give Gabe any sort of leverage. "Let's get out of here before I call them both over just to watch you embarrass yourself for fun." An empty threat because no matter how angry she was, between everyone involved, Gabe was probably the only person who was willing to be around Selin. "Come on, playboy— leave some cash for our coffee, and a big tip as your first step to mending your conscience."

#interactions #selin.001 #ft. selin yilmaz #shall we end this here? or if you'd like to reply can end on yours? lmk <3

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lowkeyren · 7 months ago

Text

NOT EVERYONE KNOWS!

in which — being in a secret relationship with them but they’re all idiots

featuring — dan feng, blade, jing yuan (separately) x gn!reader

wc: total 2.6k, from event req: here!, debut fic for my milestone event yippee, they keep fumbling but it’s ok cus they’re hot, reblogs w comments are appreciated, please enjoy!! <3

#DAN FENG

+ wait… since when are you guys married?!

dan feng? i just know he’s gonna mess this shit up so badly. he’s the high elder, but also the epitome of boyfailure. he really can’t help it, those terms of endearment just slip out so easily when you're by his side.

and it doesn’t stop there. he’s completely oblivious to the shocked silence and wide-eyed stares from others; for example, he might be holding your hand absentmindedly while discussing serious matters, and only snaps back to reality when you cough awkwardly.

but unfortunately, it’s not that simple when the gang (re: high cloud quintet) find out about your relationship. disclaimer: chaos ensues

dan feng immediately sits up upon seeing you enter the room, a fresh batch of tea brewing in hand. the discussion among the group gradually fades into the background as his eyes trail your figure while you carefully pour tea into each person’s teacup.

the piquant aroma fills his senses, and he can’t stop a small smile from creeping across his face when you take a seat next to him. he takes a sip, the delicate flavor enveloping his taste buds, leaving behind a delightful aftertaste that lingers long after the tea is swallowed.

“—thus we require a substantial amount of time, speaking of which, anything on your end dan feng?”

he finds himself watching you out of the corner of his eye. “imbibitor lunae…?” and it’s almost impossible for him to tear his gaze away from you.

“hello? dan feng?” he snaps back to reality, blinking a few times before processing the initial question. “a-ahem, yes. darling, could you pass me the report?” he says, turning to your side.

the room falls silent, and a shocked gasp escapes from baiheng's mouth before jingliu clasps a hand over it; jing yuan shifts in his seat, exchanging a bewildered glance with yingxing.

“hm..? did you forget to bring it?” his tone is soft and gentle, a stark contrast to the shocked expression on everyone’s face. “are you alright my dear? your face is quite red, do y—”

before he can finish, you manage to find your voice, trying to mask your embarrassment with a strained smile. “no, i didn’t forget the report, and i’m perfectly fine… though our friends might need a minute to recover.”

baiheng, still wide-eyed, blurts out, “hold on, are you guys… in a relationship?”

dan feng blinks in confusion ”oh, did i forget to mention that part?” —to which you hear someone across the table audibly facepalm.

you sigh, voice strained but laced with amusement, “i can’t believe you never told them we got married.” your words are followed by the sound of a cup shattering on the floor.

“wait… since when are you guys married?!” you pat jingyuan’s back, trying to stifle a laugh. “since last year.”

“seriously, and you never thought of telling us.”

“it was an honest mistake, yingxing.” dan feng replies, crossing his arms defensively.

baiheng shakes her head, “an honest mistake? like forgetting to water your plants, not like forgetting to tell us you got married!”

“well congratulations, i suppose. though a heads-up would’ve been nice.” jingliu manages a wry smile, though she internally cringes at baiheng’s exaggerated (or not) reaction, opting to just let her be.

"sorry, it slipped my mind.” dan feng's nonchalant shrug only serves to further fuel jingyuan's irk, his eye visibly twitching; yingxing lets out a groan, still reeling from the revelation. you can’t help but chuckle softly at the scene unfolding, taking a sip of your tea.

“you weren’t planning to tell us at all?!”

"honest mistake." you can tell he’s just teasing his friends by the way a small smirk appears on his face as he attempts to hide it behind his teacup. (you nearly had to restrain baiheng as she tried to leap over the table.)

well, it seems like you’re not going to get anything done today.

#BLADE

+ easy, just buy me a nice ring and leave the lying part to me.

please. if you had a penny for every time blade almost exposes that you’re dating, you’d have three pennies. which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened thrice.

the first time was when he received a call from you while in the car with firefly. he answered almost immediately, without realizing that wearing earphones does not necessarily mean he isn't able to be heard in real life, just that others can’t hear what he’s listening to.

“went to boomerville n the locals said they knew u” —silverwolf, probably.

second was when someone confessed their feelings to you, and he “instinctively” jumped in to say you have a husband. "what husband? i don't see a ring on your finger." so now, that same man won't stop asking you about this so-called “husband” (that doesn’t exist).

and third time, well we’ll see.

“are you sure you don’t want me to kill him.”

you huff out in annoyance, “this wouldn’t even be an issue if you hadn’t mentioned i had a husband.” sighing, you push yourself off the bed and turn to face your boyfriend.

“...that aside, how exactly do you plan on handling him?” blade raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his gaze. “easy! just buy me a nice ring, and leave the lying part to me.”

if blade hadn’t seriously considered taking care of the man before, he certainly seems determined to do so now. “hey what’s with that reaction…”

blade’s eyes narrow as he takes in your response. “a ring huh, what are you going to do with it?” you roll your eyes, trying to stifle a smile. “what else? pretend i have a husband.”

he sighs, “is this really the best solution you can come up with?” (he really doesn't like the idea of you having a husband…that isn’t him, fake or not) “yup!” you reply with a grin, “i’ll be eagerly awaiting the ‘surprise’!” with that, you plant a quick kiss on his cheek and swiftly exit the room.

oh you’re lucky he loves you. (even though this is totally, 100% his fault)

—

“hmm, bladie? why the sudden interest in jewellery?” kafka smirks, curiosity dancing in her eyes. blade chooses to stay silent, picking out the most expensive ring; and kafka’s expression only broadens with amusement as she watches his intense scrutiny of the display.

“planning something special, are we?” she teases, leaning closer. “or are you just trying to impress someone?”

blade finally glances up, his face inscrutable. “just taking care of business.” he replies tersely, slipping the ring onto the counter along the pile of designer jackets.

“right… well, i’ll be interested to see how this turns out.”

—

“what?” the man in front of you asks, his confusion evident.

you tilt your head slightly, trying to gauge his reaction. “you seem surprised. did you think i was joking?” you casually brush a strand of hair away, subtly flaunting the ring to him —and to any onlookers; trying not to crack a smile when you hear a loud gasp followed by a flurry of hushed whispers.

he grits his teeth, clearly embarrassed and humiliated by the commotion. “i didn’t expect you to be married… especially since you never wear the ring.”

“or is it that you’re not all that attached to your husband?” the audacity of this man… just as you’re at a loss of words, a firm hand grips the man’s shoulder from behind.

blade yanks the man back, and away from you. “you’re pushing your luck.” the sudden motion causes the man to stumble, his face pale with a mix of surprise and fear.

“w-who the hell are you?!” the man’s voice trembles as he tries to regain his composure. meanwhile, you notice a crowd beginning to form around you, with some people eagerly pulling out their phones to record the escalating drama.

“leave, now.” you can tell blade’s patience is wearing thin, dangerously so.

the man’s eyes narrow in defiance. “why should i? you’re the one to talk when you’re hiding behind a disguise.” blade pins the man with a steely gaze, his intense stare making the man stiffen under its weight.

but what you didn’t expect was for blade to turn around, remove his mask and letting it dangle from one ear; he then raises your hand to his lips, placing a tender kiss upon it.

the man’s face immediately drains of colour, and the crowd around you erupts into a cacophony of gasps and murmurs. you’re not sure whether he's more shocked by blades' bold gesture or by the fact that a notorious criminal is standing right in front of him. (its the latter)

the man, now visibly shaken, scrambles away, yelling out a “sorry!” before disappearing into the crowd. blade pulls you away, ignoring the flashes of cameras and ducks into a nearby alley.

the next morning, you wake up to a barrage of notifications on your phone. you discover the group chat flooded with messages from your friends.

“@barcodewrist @[you] explain yourselves”

“Bladie, so that was what the ring was for~”

“bro i cant believe this old ass man has rizz”

you quickly type out a message asking for context, in which you only receive a link from silverwolf. as you click in, you can’t help but wish you can unsee what’s on the screen.

“‘YOUR NAME’, IDENTIFIED IN ASSOCIATION WITH STELLARON HUNTER ‘BLADE’: WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE. BOUNTY SET AT 3.5 BILLION.” and attached below is a video of what transpired yesterday.

“great” you mutter under your breath, “not only am i dating a wanted criminal, now i'm one too.” you shoot a quick message to the group chat “any tips on staying out of trouble when your boyfriend’s a fugitive? asking for a friend... and my sanity.”

on the bright side, at least you’ll be greeted by a very pleased blade, now publicly acknowledged as your husband —oh and don’t question the second ring on your finger.

#JING YUAN

+ stop you're not allowed to smile at me like that. / like what?

how do i even start. he’s so smug, please throw a rock at him and wipe that “:3” off his face.

you really do sometimes wonder if jing yuan ever truly intended to keep this relationship a secret, especially by how he practically transforms into a lovesick puppy whenever you’re within a 10 meter radius.

goodluck because he's also such a tease, an insufferable one. despite that, you can’t deny there’s something endearing about how he always seems to light up when you’re around, his constant teasing remarks making it harder to stay mad whenever you call him out for being “too lax”.

after all, he may be a headache, but he’s your headache —one that comes with a hefty dose of affection and a penchant for making every single moment spent together memorable.

being the general’s secretary, and his lover isn’t an easy job.

you’re focused on the task before you; reviewing documents, scheduling meetings, coordinating logistics for high-stakes missions —ensuring no crucial information slips through the cracks.

but you can’t help but feel a pair of eyes boring into you. it’s a subtle sensation, a weight that pulls your awareness away from the task at hand. you glance up from your desk, only to be met by jing yuan’s gaze, fixed on you with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken.

“jing yuan, what are you doing?” you ask, but he doesn’t answer. though a smile slowly spreads across his face as he continues to watch you. his overwhelming stare makes it difficult to concentrate…

and worse? he looks utterly and hopelessly in love.

“stop, you're not allowed to smile at me like that.” the words come out softer than intended; he leans in slightly, the warmth in his expression only deepening.

“and why not?” he asks, his voice carries a hint of amusement. the twinkle in his eyes suggests that he knows exactly what he’s doing, and it only adds to your annoyance.

“because” you reply, trying to sound exasperated, “you’re looking at me as if you’re in love with me or something!” —and your handsome face makes it impossible to focus.

jing yuan’s smile only widens, clearly enjoying your reaction. “is that so? i didn’t realise my smile had such an effect on you.” (you hope his pants catch on fire because he’s obviously lying about being unaware of the effect his presence has on you)

“and i am in love with you.”

that, in fact, did not ease the fluttering in your chest. “shh!” you quickly cover his mouth with your hand; you hold your grip for a moment longer, feeling the warmth of his breath against your palm.

“hmm… so i can't even look at my beloved partner now?” his voice comes out slightly muffled and distorted due to your playful assault on his face. you give his cheek one last, harsh pinch before finally letting him go.

you heave a sigh of relief once you’re sure no one heard anything, you loosen your grip but keep your palm resting on his face. with a playful pinch, you squeeze his cheek. “you tease!” you furrow your brows, though a small smile tugs at your lips despite your effort to remain stern.

you shake your head with a smile, “do you have any idea how hard it is to stay focused when you’re looking at me like that?” the admission slips out before you can stop it, and you feel a flush rise to your cheeks.

“i know,” he replies with a grin, “and i wouldn’t change a thing.”

jing yuan rests his chin on his hand, his elbow propped up on your desk; the warmth of his gaze and the cheeky grin on his face makes it hard to stay frustrated at him.

“you’re impossible,” you say with a mock scowl, though your tone carries a lighthearted edge. “but it’s also hard to stay mad at you.”

he chuckles softly, clearly pleased with your reaction. he leans in a bit more, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “oh? then would you like to head out—”

“you wish.” you cut him off with a deadpan look, “that stack of papers has been sitting there since this morning, and it’s not going to magically sort itself out.”

you gesture toward the mountain of documents on your desk, which has only grown throughout the day. he sighs, settling himself comfortably into the seat beside you. you pick up your pen as you try to regain your focus again amidst the lingering warmth of his presence.

this time, you really do consider throwing a rock at him when his head falls on your shoulder as he dozes off just five minutes later.

but hey, at least he makes it clear that he’s head over heels for you, even if it comes with a side of embarrassment, and a few near heart attacks.

MASTERLIST ; EVENT M.LIST

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5sospenguinqueen · 8 months ago

Text

Princess Party Pt 2 | Lando Norris x Best Friend! Reader

Summary: After a drunken night with his best friend, Lando ran away from the consequences. Over the next eight months, he's reminded that he made a huge mistakes.

Warnings: Swearing. Angst. Baby fever. Pregnancy. Lando redemption.

Blonde female reader with various faceclaims. Pics found on Pinterest.

Main F1 Masterlist

prev.

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YourUserName posted a new story

liked by oscarpiastri, yoursister and others

georgerussell replied to your story

georgerussel63 let’s hope that bean doesn’t expect homemade treats in the future

→ YourUserName this is exactly why i’m crying so thanks for the reminder!

→ georgerussell63 oh no, i was joking. i'm so sorry! don’t cry! i’m on my way with ice cream

→ YourUserName i’m over ice cream now. i'll take hot dogs?

→ georgerussell63 don’t tell charles. he just released an ice cream line for you

charles_leclerc replied to your story

charles_leclerc don’t cry, y/n/n. bean has a life supply of free ice cream. she won’t even like cookies

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YourUserName just posted

liked by alex_albon, carmenmmundt and others

YourUserName not long now. (i believe george called this nesting)

1,123 comments

lilymhe counting down the days until i become a godmother

→ francisca.cgomes lily we’ve talked about this. i know the number for a good therapist, help with your delusions

→ alex_albon ladies, ladies, please. we’ve already had this fight. you both lose

→ georgerussell63 you all lose because i’m the only contender for godmother

→ YourUserName none of you are godmother unless you show up to meet bean in a red sparkly dress and a wand

→ georgerussell63 stop watching shrek 2

→ YourUserName never!!!

oscarpiastri the room is really coming together. those drawers look amazing

→ YourUserName i ask you to help me build one piece of furniture and i never hear the end of it

danielricciardo 2 months to go! not that i’m counting. or excited. in any way shape or form

flonorris1 such a beautiful room. bean has such an amazing mum

charles_leclerc baby incoming!

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YourUserName posted a new story

liked by carmenmmundt, yoursister and others

alex_albon replied to your story

alex_albon bean's just training to be an F1 driver

→ YourUserName isn't the term usually footballer

→ alex_albon oh, please. that kid won’t be a footballer if uncle george and i have anything to do with it. we’ll make her the first female wdc

→ YourUserName my poor baby. what untalented uncles she has

→ alex_albon oi!

georgerussell63 replied to your story

georgerussell63 carmen says bean was kicking so much because she’s excited to meet her aunty

→ YourUserName and carmen would be right

→ georgerussell63 i told carmen it was because bean heard my voice and loves me so much already

→ YourUserName and you would be wrong

→ georgerussell63 pregnancy has made you mean

→ YourUserName nah, the hormones just make you less tolerable

→ georgerussell63 after all i’ve done :(

→ YourUserName <3

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YourUserName just posted

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and others

YourUserName welcome to the world baby bean l/n-norris tagged: landonorris

1,098 comments

landonorris my two beautiful girls. no words will ever express the amount of love and gratitude i have for you but i will spend the rest of my life trying to show you

→ danielricciardo simp

carlossainz55 congratulations. you make beautiful parents

alex_albon little bean is the most beautiful girl ever. i don’t think i’ve stopped crying since you named me godfather

→ lilymhe he really hasn’t. but tbf, i haven’t stopped crying since you named me godmother

→ yoursister i still think she should revoke alex's godfather title. traitor

→ alex_albon i apologised!!

→ georgerussell63 it means nothing!!!

charles_leclerc baby bean is here! i am so excited. we can have little playdates

→ alexandrasaintmleux charles, i don’t think bean will be able to play with leo for a good while

→ YourUserName no but i can! bring him over!!

danielricciardo who’s crying? not me. let me know when you feel ready for visitors as i may have bought a ‘few’ things

georgerussell63 beautiful girls. thank you so much for letting me be part of this journey, and for naming me godfather

→ YourUserName it’s a thank you for driving me to the hospital and holding my hair back whilst i puked. i don’t know what i would’ve done without you and carmen

carmenmmundt it was such an honour to be part of this beautiful journey with you.

→ YourUserName thank you for being there for me. bean and i cannot wait for our first brunch date with aunty carmen

maxverstappen1 i am very happy for the both of you. she’s beautiful

oscarpiastri the most beautiful baby. i hope she’s enjoying that dresser

→ YourUserName let it go, pookie x

francisca.cgomes i haven’t taken my godmother hoodie off since you gifted it to me

→ pierregasly can confirm. i'm sick of looking at shrek’s face anytime i walk behind her

mclaren our beautiful papaya baby. we can already promise that she will be the most spoiled girl in the paddock. we’re already setting up a racing nursery 🧡

→ mercedesamgf1 except she will be spending time in our garage

landonorris just posted

liked by oscarpiastri, mclaren and others

landonorris to my beautiful daughter and her astounding mother. i am in awe of the pair of you. for the past nine months, i have been the biggest idiot on the planet. and yet both of you welcomed me back into your lives without a second thought. y/n, i have loved you since we were 12 and you kissed me because i grazed my knee falling off my bike. instead of telling you that, i dragged you around the world with me whilst i raced, falling more in love with you each day. your generosity and kindness never fail to wow me. to those who don't know, i was a complete idiot. i ran away from my responsibilities and yet, she didn’t hesitate in giving me a second chance. not just as a father but as a partner. she brought our beautiful bean into the world, and i will forever cherish the pair of you. you are my whole world, and if i ever upset either of you, george has full permission to run me over with his car. to y/n and bean, i love you both forever. you are my everything.

7,995 comments

alex_albon i’m so happy for you, mate. you owe me for all the grey hairs you gave me

→ landonorris i’m grateful for your friendship, mate. i owe you for so much more than just that haha

→ YourUserName @ alex_albon you’re still in trouble

→ lilymhe yes he is

carlossainz55 felicidades, compañero 🥳❤️

danielricciardo well done, brother. y/n did an amazing job. i’m glad you took responsibility

fernandoalo_official what a beautiful family. make sure you cherish it

georgerussell63 y/n made such a beautiful bean

→ landonorris hey, part of my dna is there too (but, yes, yes she did)

→ georgerussell63 unfortunately

oscarpiastri the caption is why you kept asking me for synonyms? but seriously, i’m so glad to have been part of this journey for both of you

pierregasly 🥳🥳🥂

mclaren papaya baby! we cannot wait to see baby bean in the paddock. she’ll be the most important part of race week

arthur_leclerc i cannot believe someone willingly had a baby with you, especially someone as beautiful as y/n

liked by YourUserName

user1 anyone else notice that none of the wags commented on this post despite y/n being in it?

→ user2 you can guarantee they all commented on hers though because they’ve all been gushing about buying baby stuff

→ user3 they really said y/n may have forgiven him but we certainly don’t

user4 y/n stronger than me because if my baby daddy walked away from me and my child for the entire pregnancy just to decide he wanted to be a father once it was born, i’d cut his dick off

user5 guys, not only did we finally get lando and y/n together. we got mom and dad y/n and lando together

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landonorris just posted

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landonorris happy 1st birthday to my prettiest princess. you’re my favourite mini muppet in the world but if you don’t stop growing then you and daddy are going to have some words. (also, daddy best be the only prince charming in your life)

15,449 comments

YourUserName whoa whoa whoa, i thought you were my prince charming

→ landonorris sorry babe but you know you lost me the minute i looked into her eyes

→ YourUserName and here i go crying again

danielricciardo mate, do you really think calling yourself daddy in an insta post is a good idea?

→ landonorris @ YourUserName pay up, i told you he’d make it weird

→ YourUserName damn it, daniel. you just cost me a back massage

georgerussell63 and best godfather of the year award goes to me for the princess castle

→ alex_albon liar! best godfather of the year ‘twas me. she danced with me the most and wanted me to have the second slice of cake

oscarpiastri can’t believe princess bean locked me in the dungeon

→ landonorris she wasn’t impressed that you overtook me last weekend

→ oscarpiastri sucks to suck, i guess

francisca.cgomes i still can’t believe my baby brunch buddy is 1!! when did that happen?

→ landonorris @ YourUserName has enjoyed playing with the brunch kitchen kit more than bean has

→ YourUserName why would you expose me this way? i pushed a kid out for you

alex_albon happy birthday baby bean! can’t believe it’s been a whole year of spoiling you

→ User6 does this mean alex has been forgiven?

→ YourSister no.

→ alex_albon don’t lie to the internet. you gave me a hug earlier

→ lilymhe it was only so she could spit in your drink, honey

charles_leclerc happy birthday, bean! she is the most adorable little girl. i think i will need to wear my fairy wings on the weekend to help me go faster

→ pierregasly i’ve already told alpine that they need to add my tiara to the helmet

User7 okay but can we all appreciate the fact that this little girl had the majority of the Grid at her party, all dressed in some way as princesses

→ User8 @ YourUserName c’mon, we all know you’re a girls’ girl, release the photos of the princess grid

→ YourUserName shh, i have to wait until they're racing so you've all got 2 hours to save them before they make me take them down

maxverstappen1 P had the best day with bean, and said that y/n is her new bestest friend

→ YourUserName aww my heart. please bring P around for playdates forever though, she’s the best kid

→ kellypiquet she was so exhausted she fell asleep in her princess dress

→ YourUserName so did lando

→ landonorris hey!

→ YourUserName you started it

User9 i think we’re all asking the same thing; when are you having the next one?

→ landonorris @ YourUserName so..? 👀

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

Baby Fever Angst Series

F1 requests are open!

Tag list - so sorry if I missed anyone. It wasn’t finding a lot of people

@bibissparkles @barcelonaloverf1life @rlalliehayes @softtina @callsignwidow @lav3nder-haze @minkyungseokie @luvrrish @evans-dejong @sadsierra2 @justdreamersdream @spookystitchery @dark-night-sky-99 @majusialikesfastcars @luckyladycreator2 @mrosales16 @reguluscrystals @tvdtw4ever @alwaysclassyeagle @gigicisneros @spanishcorndogs @thecubanator2 @goldenharrysworld @awritingtree @jxnellat @hc-dutch @buckybarnessweetheart @ironmaiden1313 @dreamercrowd @yourbane @reguluscrystals @peachiicherries @rosecentury @prettypink11 @emmynotawards @tinyhrry @sltwins @daemyratwst @lemon-lav @noneofyourfbusinessworld @bwormie @leclercsluvs @spanishcorndogs @hard4ndsoft @formulaal @classiclitfreak @weekendlusting @evesfile @powerpuffgirly @leclercvsx

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gojoest · 1 year ago

Text

𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐄 — gojo satoru

MDNI, f! reader, she/her pronouns used, wc: 3.3k, flashback of how you met (1st part of the fic, past tense used, then we jump back to present, divider used to separate the two timelines. both take place on his birthday btw), suguru makes an appearance (as satoru’s wingman :3), established relationship (you’re married & have a daughter), reader wears a dress, first time face sitting + riding (oral, f! receiving), pet names (baby, my love), he cums in his pants, breeding implied at the end (sort of, to avoid spoilers)

a/n: happy birthday to my biggest mental illness ♡

side note: if the story of how you met sounds familiar to you, please note that it was from one of my talk posts from a while ago & i decided to make use of it : )

what gojo satoru wants — he always gets.

after all, it’s how he made you his as well.

“satoru, you’re staring way too hard at her”, suguru nudged him on the arm.

“think she noticed, too?”, satoru chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, ears turning slightly red from embarrassment, unsure if it was because he got caught or that it was too obvious he was checking you out.

“very likely. i mean, it’s hard not to notice an annoying pair of blue laser beams persistently invading your space”, suguru mocked. “are you going to talk to her?”

“yes”, satoru firmly replied, without peeling his eyes from you, “i’ll ask her out, i think”

“hey, hey. slow down there”

“nope”, satoru shrugged, almost like a stubborn child disobeying his parent, “i’ve made up my mind — i really want to make her mine”

it was a pure coincidence, or some might say fate, that you ended up in the same restaurant — he was there celebrating his birthday with a small circle of friends while you were present to honor your colleague that had just gotten a promotion at work.

satoru’s eyes relentlessly followed your every move, every gesture, from the moment you walked in and settled on the table next to his. it was rather unusual for him to be this interested in someone simply upon sight, in fact, even desiring to pursue something with someone so immediately. it was always the other way around — women would flock to him because of his looks and peculiar behavior, and of course — his money — but he would turn them down without batting an eye. love and seeking romance were never a priority for him, he did not have time nor any interest in them. but here he was, contradicting himself, being blatantly distracted by your presence while somehow trying to simulate an active conversation with his friends, more than frequently averting his gaze to look at you, his brain busy coming up with a plan to get your number by the end of the night.

it didn’t take him too long to finally make his move. he stood up from his chair and walked over to your table, stopping right behind your seat.

“excuse me”, he leaned in, placing one hand at the edge of the table and the other — at the back of your chair, “hello”, his face mere inches away from yours. taken aback by the way he, a complete stranger, had the guts to get this close to you, you turned to face him with a questioning look.

“i felt like i would regret it for the rest of my life if i didn’t come say hi to you”, he spoke.

truth be told, despite being astounded and a bit put off by his approach, you were slightly intrigued. he was handsome, pretty even — like that one oddly eye-catching cloud in a sky full of thousands that you notice as soon as you look up. the white henley shirt he was wearing made the blue in his eyes pop even more, the v-neck revealing a little bit of his well-crafted chest, just enough to leave you tiny bit wondering about the ridges of his abs beneath.

as much as the scenery up close made your cheeks feel hot, his boldness rubbed you up the wrong way, too much to let it just slide, and you snapped. “is that so? well, now that you’ve said your hi, you can go back to your table and live with no regrets for the rest of your life”, you rolled your eyes skeptically, pushing his hand off the table.

“oh, i am sorry”, he chuckled, brushing his hair back with a hand, “but there are three more things i need to do before leaving, i’m afraid”

you raised an eyebrow, questioning.

“first, let me introduce myself — i am gojo satoru, also known as the man to be your boyfriend, then your husband, and then the father of your children”, he smugly said. your eyes widening at the audacity of his declaration that left you at a loss for words. “second, i hope you don’t mind introducing yourself as well — as you are to be my girlfriend, then my wife, and then the mother of my children — it’s only natural that i know your name”, he continued, “and last but not least — i am not leaving until you give me your number so we can make this all work”

wow. this man was really fucked in the head, you were sure of it — who in the right mind would speak such nonsense to someone they just met? “you have to be joking, right?”, you laughed in genuine disbelief.

“no. i am dead serious”, he replied in a heartbeat.

“is this your move? you pull this on everyone you find remotely attractive?”, you narrowed your eyes.

“actually—”, suguru interrupted, placing a hand on satoru’s shoulder as he approached from behind, “no”, he spoke. “believe me when i tell you this — he’s never been this smooth in his entire life. i know he probably came off a bit creepy, considering the boldness of his actions — hell, even i am creeped out because it’s pretty unusual for him to act like this”, he laughed, glancing at satoru to let him know that he got his back on this. “but, what i’m trying to say is — my friend here seems to really like you as i’ve never seen him be so intense and interested in anyone before. he’s also a birthday boy today — so could you at least give him a chance before turning him down so quickly? you can come sit with us before you make up your mind on whether you want to give him your number or not?”

you thought for a second, weighing the options in your mind — he was pretty, although he annoyed you a little bit by being all bossy and arrogant as if you were compelled to belong to him just because he said so. but there was just something about him you couldn’t quite put your finger on that made you question yourself. were you actually drawn to him? you could say “no” and never hear from him again, occasionally pondering over the what-if’s and should-have’s from this night; or you could say “fuck it” and see where this strange encounter goes, and live your life without regrets — as he would say. there — he was already getting under your skin…

“well”, you sighed, “guess i’m down for that”

by the end of the night not only did you give him your number, but also a promise for a date the next day — the first of many to follow after.

“careful, you’ll wake her up”, you whisper, leaning against the doorframe of your 3-year old’s room and watching your husband place a soft peck on your daughter’s forehead.

“can’t help it”, he speaks quietly, “she looks like an angel”, before fixing the blankets around her, making sure she’s tucked in all cozily. “the nanny said she cried for papa while we were gone”, he puts a hand over his mouth to stop his lips from trembling, his eyes filled with nothing but love and tenderness, welling up and flowing from the corners.

“she’s such a daddy’s girl”, you sigh, a soft smile present on your face, “next year we can stay home and invite everyone else over — that way we won’t have to worry about missing her bedtime”.

“yea”, he hums, “let’s do that next year”, giving her one last kiss before turning off the night lamp and tiptoeing to you. “come on”, he puts a hand at the small of your back as you both walk out of the room.

“do you remember”, satoru speaks softly into your ear while walking behind you on your way to your shared bedroom, his front flat against your back, the hand at the small of it now circling around to rest over your navel, while the other — reaches for the handle of your bedroom door to push it open, “the night we first met on my birthday?”, he continues after carefully guiding you inside.

you stop in the middle of the room, his arms still wrapped around you from behind, your hands resting over his and playing with his knuckles.

“how can i not?” you chuckle, tilting your head back to let him rest his chin on your forehead, “that was one hell of a fortune telling you pulled on me back then”

“but i was right, no?”, he brushes his lips on your forehead before leaving a soft peck, “see — you’re all mine now, just like i said”, and then another, ”i made you my girlfriend first”, and another, “then i gave you my last name”, and a fourth one, “and then you gave me a beautiful daughter, made me a father”, before turning you around to face him.

“you partly owe it to suguru though — he eased me into the situation, unlike you”, you reply, humbling him like you always do. your head is nestled on his broad chest as one of his hands caress the back of it. still in his embrace, he slowly walks you towards the bed. sits at the edge of it and straddles you on his lap. his palms finding their way to the plush of your thighs draped over his, caressing them tenderly but needily as his fingertips press and then release against your flesh in quick repetitive motions.

“this is because i asked him to give me a hand in case you cut me off”, he admits, tilting his head to meet your lips, not to kiss but just to keep them brushing against each other as you speak. he loved doing this a lot.

“oh?”, you gasp into his mouth, pretending to be shocked to your core, “you wanted me so much that you of all people, the gojo satoru, had to ask someone else for help?”

“you have no idea. if that hadn’t worked, i would’ve fallen on my hands and knees and begged you to take me”, one of his hands reaching the side of your face, playing his fingers on the strands of your hair covering your cheek before tucking them behind your ear.

“hmm”, you doubt, “is that so?”, nuzzling your nose against his.

“mhmm”, he nods, “there’s nothing i wouldn’t do for you, i thought you knew that by now. it kind of hurts my feelings that you doubt me actually”, he acts offended, pursing his lips and turning his head to the side to face away from you.

“oh my, what have i done now”, you knit your brows and press your cheek against his, pretending to be very, very sorry about what you just said.

“you made the birthday boy sad”, he huffs a silly, somehow obviously forced, pout, “you’ve got to make it up to me somehow”

“i’d do anything to make the birthday boy smile again — just say the word”, you sweetly pamper, patting the top of his head.

“really?”

“really.”

“anything?”

“anything.”

“you promise not to go back on your word?”

“i promise.”

he pulls his cheek away from yours and looks you in the eyes, the blue in his shining with a darker shade of mischief now. and considering the smug smile on his face, you sigh — perhaps you just got yourself played, falling face down into his little trap.

“then”, he points at his own face, “sit on it”

to say you were surprised by his request would be a lie. he’s many times tried coaxing you into doing this in the past but somehow you managed to avoid it, part of you still shying away from it. it’s not like his tongue has never been inside you before. but riding it as if it were his cock seemed way more obscene in your head than anything you two have ever done previously — and you’ve done pretty much a lot.

“well”, you sigh in defeat, seems like the time has finally come, “today’s your lucky day”, you say as you get up from his lap and turn your back — a signal for him to unzip your dress — to which, of course, he immediately complies.

“as it should be”, his crafty fingers work the slider down, slowly peeling the dress off your body and letting it fall on the floor, followed by your lace thong and bra, “it’s my birthday after all”

“the way you always find a way to make things go your way gets on my nerves so much”, you turn around again and push him on the bed and slowly climb on top of him to straddle his chest.

“make a wish before you blow the candle”, you look down at him, your pussy close to his face, the scent of you tickling his nostrils, and he, instinctively almost, takes a deeper breath, rolling his eyes back and hissing with delight.

“freak”, you quickly look away, embarrassed, but he cups your cheeks, forcing you to look at him again, “i want you to look at me as you ride my face”, his voice comes out breathy, “will you do that for the birthday boy?”

you nod into his palms, “you’re insufferable” — “suffocate me then”, he coos through a grin, grabbing your knees to pull you forward until you’re above his face.

“jerk”, you say, but softly, as you lower your cunt on his willing mouth, landing your softness on his face in slow motion, immediately earning a throaty groan from him that shudders through your pussy lips.

satoru breathes deeply in and out with your heat on his mouth, the scent of you hitting his lungs and even below, reaching all the way down to his groin to further nurture his cock already throbbing in his slacks. his hand reaching down to unbuckle them slightly, to give more space for his hard-on to grow freely.

“mowe”, he muffles incoherently into your pussy, grabbing a handful of your ass cheeks to push you against his face, tilting his head up and down, jutting his jaw up and out to meet you.

you whimper at the friction, your clit bumping and rubbing against his nose as his lips are kissing your folds, his tongue slowly poking at your entrance with the tip before darting in — twirling around your walls — and out.

“nghh…s-sa-t-to—”, you barely cry out his name, tugging at his hair, mercilessly pulling him into your heat. as much as you hated to admit it, you loved this position. your embarrassment long gone and forgotten, you ride his face in a haze, your pussy getting wetter against his mouth and your movements — faster and harder each moment.

“heawen on my fongwue”, he groans. if he could speak properly right now, he would probably make the nastiest, dirtiest remarks, shamelessly walk you through every single thing he was feeling as you rocked your hips back and forth, grinding on his face. he would probably say something about your boobs, too. how they looked so pretty jiggling ever so slightly from the movement. he can’t speak right now, yes, but he can still get his thoughts reach you through actions — his hands run along your belly, gripping your breasts from below, squeezing and squishing them inside of his palms.

you clutch his hands with yours, “i can’t hold this position for too long”, and force them down on your hips for support. you hear him say something through a loud groan but it’s barely recognizable — most likely just him cursing “fuck” and “baby” from pleasure under your pussy, but also from the ego boost you just gave him — that he can make you weak but at the same time desperate enough to want to continue — despite your hips giving up — not only with his cock but his mouth alone, too.

you let him take over as you chase your high, weighing on his face as his hands grip on your hips, dictating your every move, composing the tune of your hips. his tongue is no more sliding in and out as he makes you grind harder on his face — it stays in, continuously licking your sweet spot clean.

“f-fuck, fuck, fuck…”, you curse loudly, reaching your hands to grab the head of the bed and hammer your pussy harder into his face, squeezing every last drop of strength left in your already cramping muscles until you cum, shuddering on his mouth.

“mfff”, he groans throatily into your hole, sucking and slurping your juices. his hips buck in the air, helplessly searching for friction to soothe his aching cock. his half-unbuckled pants are drenched with precum, leaking out from his tip through his boxers and out through the cloth of his pants, visibly staining them.

you can’t see but it’s easy to figure out from the way the bed bounces up and down as his ass meets the mattress after every time his hips fall down. “how cute”, you utter as you try to calm down your breathing, cunt still resting over his face.

his eyes are half closed, rolling back and hiding their blue away. all he needs is a little push, a little rub, you know it. you know it by the way his tongue has stopped moving inside you, by the way his hands have loosened the grip on your flesh, by the way his shortened moans have grown into one long and steady groan coming from the bottom of his throat — his entire brain solely focused on the muscles of his lower body that is searching, almost beggingly, for relief.

you lean your upper body back a little, just enough to make it easier to reach his shaft while still sitting on his face. “since you’re the birthday boy”, you drag your words out as you place your hand on his clothed cock, feeling the wetness that’s emerged from beneath against your palm, “i’ll give you a hand.”

his ass cheeks tense and squeeze as he presses his hips against your touch, ferociously rubbing his clothed cock on the flesh of your open palm. his groans get louder as he bucks his hips under your hand, pushing them up to meet your hand harder and faster each time — just the way he forces his cock into your tight cunt as he nears — until the last three thrusts that he always prolongs in order to properly and completely pump his seed out.

the inside of your hand feels hot against his clothed cock as he seeps himself out, the stickiness of his cum absorbing itself into the material of his pants and emerging through it to reach the skin of your palm.

you lift yourself up a little only to plop your body down next to his. his mouth, cheeks, chin, even his nose, are covered in his spit and your cum, all mixed in.

“shit, baby”, he laughs, breathing deeply in and out of his mouth, overwhelmed by the whole experience, “what the hell did you just do to me”

“do you really need me to verbalize what just happened”

“yes”

“no”, you slap his cheek with the back of your hand, softly, before rolling on your side to rest your head on the left side of his chest, kissing it tenderly. “happy birthday”

“it really is”, he whispers, tracing a heart shape over the skin of your exposed cheek with his fingertip, “with you, it always is”

“did your wish come true by any chance?”, you tilt your head to look at him.

“not yet. but i’ll work on it later tonight. for now, i’ll let you catch your breath”

“wait, wait.”, you raise a brow, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“my love”, he clears his throat, “do you remember how i said, when we first met, that you’d be the mother of my children?”

“yea? am i not?”

“children”, he stresses.

“oh.”, it finally hits you.

“one more to go”

#ઈઉ — ai writes #[ ♡ ] — satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut

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