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rafes-slut · 2 days ago

Text

You let him hit raw for first time

Pairing: rafe cameron x bitchy!reader

Summary: after he was beghing you for months to hit it raw you finally let him. But he gets too excited to last long

Warnings:( Smut (MDNI), Unprotected sex, Praise & degradation, Rafe being obsessed with you, Slight power struggle, Bitchy attitude (from you), Begging (from him), Possessiveness, Probably some light choking/gripping, A lot of dirty talk

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"Come on, baby. Just once. Just let me feel you."

It had been Rafe's favorite thing to beg for since the start of your relationship. His obsession. His mission.

Every time he had you underneath him, his body pressing yours into the mattress, his hands gripping at your waist or your wrists or your throat—he'd ask. He'd plead. He'd run his lips over your ear, whispering filthy promises about how good it would feel, how much better it would be, how you’d never want to go back.

And every time, you told him no.

You liked making him work for it. You liked the way his jaw clenched, the way his grip got tighter, the way his frustration seeped into every rough thrust. Because Rafe Cameron didn’t lose, and telling him no? That made him desperate to win.

But tonight?

Tonight, you felt mean.

Maybe it was the way he’d been looking at you all night, the way his hands had barely left your body, like he was starving. Maybe it was the way he pulled you onto his lap the second you got to his house, hands palming your ass, lips dragging along your jaw. Maybe it was the way you wanted to ruin him.

So, when he kissed you breathless and muttered against your lips, "Please, baby, just once," you smirked.

"Fine."

Rafe froze. His pupils dilated so fast you thought he might pass out. His lips parted, brows pulling together like he was trying to process what he just heard.

You leaned in, lips brushing his ear. "You heard me."

And then?

He lost his fucking mind.

The second his cock pressed inside, with nothing in between, he let out a sound you’d never heard before. Like an actual, feral groan, deep in his chest, his body shuddering against yours as he bottomed out.

"Fuck," he gasped, dropping his head to your shoulder. His hands gripped your thighs like he wanted to bruise them, like he needed to ground himself. "Fuck. You feel—Jesus."

His breath was hot against your neck, his whole body shaking with restraint. Like he wanted to ruin you, but he was trying—failing—to keep himself together.

"You good?" you teased, a smirk playing on your lips.

Rafe let out a low, humorless laugh before he pulled back to look at you. His blue eyes were dark, wild, possessive.

"Oh, baby," he rasped, voice dripping with something dangerous. His hand slid up your body, fingers wrapping around your throat, tilting your chin up. "You just fucked up."

Rafe didn’t move for a second. He just stayed there, buried inside you to the hilt, like he was trying to memorize the way you felt around him. Like he was already dreading the moment he had to pull out.

“Holy shit,” he rasped, voice all shaky and breathless.

You smirked, just a little, running your hands up his arms. “What? You’re not gonna punk out on me, are you?”

That snapped something in him.

Rafe let out a choked laugh, but there was nothing funny about the way he gripped your waist. “You think I’m gonna tap out? Oh, baby.” His fingers dug into your skin, holding you down. “I’m just trying not to bust the second I move.”

You laughed, but the sound cut off when he rolled his hips—just once, slow, deep.

His whole body shuddered. His head dropped forward, forehead pressing into yours, his jaw clenching like he was physically fighting his own body.

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned, voice wrecked. His breath came out in short, sharp bursts, and his grip on you only got tighter. “Oh my God, this is—this is so much better—”

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, dragging your nails up his back. “C’mon, baby,” you whispered, lips brushing his. “I thought you were dying for this. Don’t tell me you can’t handle it.”

That did it.

Rafe’s hands jerked your hips up, making you gasp, making you feel just how hard he was struggling to keep it together.

“You love running that mouth, don’t you?” he gritted out, glaring down at you. “Think you’re so fucking funny.”

You smirked up at him, dragging your fingers through his hair. “You begged for this, Cameron. If you can’t handle it, just say so.”

That was the final straw.

Rafe let out a sharp breath, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe you were still talking, still teasing him when he was this close to fucking losing it.

“Okay,” he muttered, half to himself, like he was officially done playing nice. His hand wrapped around your throat, pressing you into the mattress, tilting your chin up so he could look you in the eyes when he said—

“Don’t fucking move.”

Then, he pulled out—all the way—before slamming back in, forcing a gasp from your lips as he stretched you again.

Rafe let out a broken groan, his body shuddering as he tried—tried—not to let it get the best of him. But you were so tight, so fucking warm, and there was nothing, nothing, in between.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he gasped, his forehead dropping to your shoulder. “Baby, I swear to God, I can’t—”

You laughed, breathless. “Already?”

His grip tightened around your throat in warning. “Shut up,” he muttered, voice shaking.

You did, but only because you were too distracted by the way he was trembling above you, holding himself back, gritting his teeth so hard his jaw popped.

You could feel how desperate he was. You could see the way his abs tensed, his muscles flexing as he fought for every ounce of self-control he had.

He wanted to ruin you. He needed to.

But he was so close, and it was killing him.

Rafe let out a shaky breath, glaring down at you. “I hate you,” he muttered, his voice all breathless and wrecked.

You smirked. “No, you don’t.”

And then, you moved. Just a little. Just enough to make him jerk inside you, to make his whole body seize up.

“Oh, you bitch,” he groaned, his grip tightening as he thrust forward, his restraint finally snapping.

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navybrat817 · 1 day ago

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This man. This gif!

Take Them Off

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky just wants to read. You have other ideas.

Word Count: Over 900

Warnings: Established relationship, implied smut, teasing, slight possessive behavior, dirty talk, mentions of spanking and fingering, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Another quickie, but I hope you lovelies. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky didn’t ask for a lot. In fact, all he wanted to do today was finish his book and not move from his chair. Very simple, and he should’ve known you would take it as a challenge.

Since he said he didn’t want to move from his chair, you decided to tease him and strut around the place in just your underwear as you did chores. And not just any pair of underwear. You had a pair specially made that had “Property of Bucky Barnes” written on the front and back. He was hard and aching for what felt like hours thanks to you.

He could admit it was fun when you teased him, but he could only take so much.

“Take them off.”

Three simple words. All you had to do was listen. Bucky sure as hell put enough authority in his voice, and he knew damned well you heard him since you looked over your shoulder with a playful smirk.

“What was that?” you asked, toying with the band of your underwear. “You want me to take these off?”

He exhaled slowly and gripped the arms of his chair. It was an impressive feat that he hadn’t done any damage to the furniture. “Yeah. Take them off. Now.”

You pretended to think about it. “Or what?”

Bucky snarled when you darted just out of his reach and had the audacity to shake your ass at him, which only made you smirk more. Whenever you got close to him, you moved away with a giggle. Both of you knew he could catch you if he wanted to, and he would, but he was trying his best not to leave his chair.

But once you got close enough, he’d put you over his knee. Maybe spank you. Maybe yank that special pair of underwear down and fuck you with his fingers until you came all over them, only after you begged for it. And after a little edging for all the teasing.

The question was if he wanted to fuck you with his metal fingers or not.

“Or I’ll cut them off,” he threatened.

You faced him as you played with the band again, his cock ready to burst from his pants when you pulled them down enough to show him your mound. Just as quickly as you pulled them down, you pulled them back up. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

“You drive me crazy,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. His scalp tingled at the thought of you pulling on the long strands. A very good kind of pain.

“And you love me for it,” you smiled.

His gaze momentarily softened. You were the light of his life, always. “I do. Very much,” he swore, brandishing a knife from his pocket and twirling it for you to see. “And maybe I can turn that threat into a promise if you get over here.”

You gasped and he didn’t have to look between your legs to know there was a wet patch on the fabric. “Is this the part where I go ‘is that a knife in your pocket or are you just happy to see me’, Barnes? Or are you planning to stab me with your dick?”

His blue eyes darkened when you took a step closer. As much as he wanted to put you over his knee, he also wanted to lavish your gorgeous breasts with the attention they deserved. “I’m going to destroy all of your holes tonight, and I might just fuck your pussy last,” he said, going in for the kill. “Or maybe I won’t fuck your pussy at all since you’re a fucking tease.”

He wanted to smirk when you narrowed your eyes and took two steps closer. Close enough for him to grab you. “A tease doesn’t back up their words and you know damned well I always-”

Careful not to cut you because he’d never hurt you, he gripped your wrist and chuckled when he yanked you over the armrest. “Follow through. I know, baby. I know.”

He half expected you to squirm or struggle, but you only moaned when brought the blade to your hip. He saw you rub your thighs together. The teasing had worked you up, too. Good. “Are you really going to cut these off?” you pouted.

He sank his teeth into his lip when he read the words along your ass. It would be a shame to destroy them since he was already going to destroy what was underneath. “Maybe, maybe not,” he mused, grazing the blade along your skin to make you shiver. “I’ll think it over while I finish my book.”

You tensed up and slowly turned your head. “You’re still going to finish your book? Are you kidding me?” The fire in your eyes almost made him lose his cool, but he used to be the Winter Soldier. He didn’t break so easily.

“You knew that was my plan today. Not my fault the sight of me gets you hot and bothered,” he smiled, rolling his hips up so you could feel just how hard he was in his pants. To be fair, the sight of you did the same thing to him. “So sit tight, get comfortable, and we’ll see if you can figure out which hole I’m fucking first.”

Because if you got to tease him, he got to tease you, too.

Once again, nothing to see here, lovelies! Go about your business. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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yanderedrabbles · 3 days ago

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What's the worst thing Yan Military Contractor has ever done to the reader?

Yandere! Military Contractor

The very worst? Now that's tough competition. He's fucked you raw so many times that afterwards you can only curl up and whimper, legs aching so bad you can't stand. He's bitten you so hard that he's left a scar of his teeth on your thigh. He's bent your arm so very far up your back that on bad days your shoulder still aches. He's done anal without any prep or lube.

But the very worst? That happened on the day you almost escaped.

He likes to humour you. Likes letting you try and get away, just to drag you back at the last second. Likes the way you fight so much harder when freedom is so very close. But he never once entertained the thought of you actually succeeding.

You're too damn clever sometimes. Too smart for your own good.

You planned your escape carefully this time. Waited for a rainy day when he'd have trouble hearing your footsteps and seeing your tracks. Managed to make a mess in his armory and get out of a second story window when he was distracted counting his guns. And then you ran.

You saw a tree out on your forced walks once. Thick oak with branches that just about reached over the fence. It would be a hard fall, but if you managed to not snap an ankle you'd be home free.

He almost found you. You were up in the branches, rain pelting you in thick sheets when he walked right under you. It was pure luck that you noticed him in time. Even without the noise of the rain to cover his footsteps, he was dead silent.

He looked pissed. But that wasn't what made your heart drop.

He had his gun with him. Not one of the rifles or shotguns. That might have almost been better. Those guns felt unreal, felt like something out of a movie. No, he was carrying his chrome .50 calibre Desert Eagle.

You hated that gun. It was the one he carried on him almost all the time, the one he had the day he took you. Huge, mean looking thing. 'One of the nastiest shots you'll ever see,' he told you once.

It was scratched with years of use. A soldier's gun. A killer's gun.

You fingers went numb on the branch before you had the courage to keep moving. You dropped down on the other side of the electric fence, landing bad. You smacked a hand over your mouth to stifle your yelp.

Staggered to your feet, holding onto the trees to take the pressure off your stinging ankles. You did it.

You actually fucking did it.

You were free. Actually, finally free. You half didn't believe it until you reached the end of the trees and open farm land stretched in front of you. The rain was so much worse without the trees to protect you, but you didn't care. An empty field of wheat had never looked so damn good.

"On your knees."

You froze. No. No.

"I said, get on your fucking knees!"

You sat so fast that you felt lightheaded.

He came to stand in front of you, blocked your view of the open land and your last chance to escape. He was scowling, hand gripping his gun so tight that veins were standing out on his forearm.

The rain was sheeting down around you, running past the grooves and catches of his pistol. You couldn't see his face through the rain, but you could feel his eyes. Raking down your body, burning.

He pointed the gun at you, cocked it. The metallic sound of it somehow the loudest thing you'd ever heard.

"Open your mouth."

"I'm sorry! Please just-"

"Open. Your. Mouth."

You did. He forced the barrel passed your lips, all the way to the back of your throat. Your teeth scraped the metal.

It tasted bitter. Iron, gunpowder. It tasted like your death.

His finger was on the trigger. One little twitch, one inopportune gag, and you were done.

"Suck it."

You did, crying so damn hard but terrified to make a sound.

"No," he snarled. "Suck it like you would a cock."

He grabbed your hair, yanked your head back. "Show me why I shouldn't kill you right here and now. Remind me exactly why I keep you around."

You sucked his gun like your life depended on it. Tongue out, drooling, like you weren't a hairs breadth from death. Looked up at him with rain and tears pouring down your face.

You must have given him one hell of a show. When you couldn't take it anymore, when you were shaking from the cold and your lips were turning blue around the metal, that's when he pulled out. One hand still in your hair, he pointed the gun at the sky and pulled the trigger. The gunshot echoed over the trees.

Fuck. You really did just have a loaded gun in your mouth.

He holstered it, grabbed your jaw with the hand that just held your death.

"Never again. Yeah?"

"Yeah."

#Unorthodox pew pew use #Don't try this at home kids #yandere oc #yandere oc x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere scenarios #tw yandere #yandere x reader #reader insert #yandere male

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ssa-dado · 2 days ago

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Cat Equals Sign Of Integration

Aaron Hotchner x bau!fem!reader Genre: fluff, smut (implied) Summary: Aaron, ever the strategist, decides that a little wine might help soften the blow of figuring out with you how to tell the team you’re dating. A solid plan - except for one tiny flaw: wine makes him a whore. Warnings: +18, MINORS DNI Hotch is a touch starved whore, a few cuss words here and there, wine gets a bit into both of your heads. Word Count: 5k Dado's Corner: Did I hallucinate this while working on one of the many requests still on my to-do list, only to realize halfway through that it was completely derailing from the main plot - but too cute to abandon? Yes. Is this fun? You tell me (pretty please).

masterlist(s)

One of the many rules you and Aaron had in your relationship was that if you cooked for date night, he was the one doing the dishes.

His idea.

You had been opposed to it at first - not because you minded, of course. You were actually a huge fan of grown men handling household chores without whining like toddlers about how it might somehow demasculate their poor, fragile egos.

No, you were opposed because you didn’t want him doing it out of some sense of obligation.

It took you a while to accept that Aaron wasn’t doing this because he owed you - he was doing it because he wanted to.

Because that was just… Aaron.

Ever the caregiver, always looking for ways to make life easier for the people he loved. He could give you the world and still come to you like a wounded dog, begging for forgiveness because he thought he wasn’t enough.

It was infuriating - for all the deep psychological reasons you could analyze for hours, but also for a much pettier one: when it was his turn to cook, instead of letting you do the dishes like the so-called rule dictated, he just… did them anyway.

And thus, the noble Mr. Clean - brave warrior of dish duty, his arms submerged in treacherous, frothy depths - found himself utterly helpless against the sudden, most dreadful buzzing of his phone.

A cruel twist of fate, indeed!

Stranded, defenseless, bound by duty to his porcelain captors, he could do nothing but stand there, a tragic figure of great importance, cruelly denied his right to immediately bestow his undivided attention upon whatever poor soul dared summon him.

Oh, the agony! The injustice! How swiftly the mighty are humbled… by a sink full of bubbles.

That was because, logically, if even a single drop of water touched his phone, he would instantly lose all of the very important, highly classified FBI secrets stored inside. Of course, phones couldn't possibly be waterproof.

Ha, imagine?! What a concept.

“Who is it?” Aaron asked, still scrubbing at your wine glass like he was trying to erase its entire existence.

Which – by the way - was completely pointless, considering that in less than five minutes, he planned on refilling it with some more. A different wine, yes. But for God’s sake, you weren’t going to die if the last few drops of white mixed with the red.

…What a fussy man.

“Penelope,” you replied, admiring the view.

What a view, really. That man was all legs and no ass, and you were finally learning to appreciate it.

“Ignore it,” he said, not even turning around.

Unfortunately for him - and for the HR department still blissfully unaware that their most serious, by-the-book boss was fraternizing with a subordinate - you were a profiler.

The U.S. government literally paid your bills every single month because you were exceptionally good at reading people.

And the way he answered? Yeah, that wasn’t the tone of a man casually dismissing an unimportant text. No, that was the tone of a man caught red-handed, scrambling for plausible deniability.

Embarrassed. Secretive. Suspicious. Frankly, if you didn’t already know what he was hiding, you’d be halfway to slapping cuffs on him. Wouldn’t even be the first time.

And so you read it – out loud.

Penelope Garcia, 7:56 PM:

hotch sir hotch bossman sir, i am DYING please tell me if you found out who her mystery boyfriend is i am suffering!!!!!!!! i know you know. i know it in my heart. if you can’t say it just give me a hint. a tiny one. a cryptic riddle. a blink. i will take anything.

^.ᆽ.^= ∫

By her, of course, she meant you - because despite a few months of keeping your relationship under wraps, you still hadn’t gotten around to telling the team. Your colleagues. Your friends. Your unwanted, overly nosy adopted children.

That their elusive "mystery boyfriend" was, in fact, your mutual boss.

You were going to tell them. Eventually.

Didn’t know when. But you would.

Then again, it wasn’t like you were surrounded by some of the best profilers in the country, trained to pick up on the slightest behavioral shift.

It’s not like the second two incredibly touch-starved people like you and Aaron started walking around with even a fraction of happiness, that wouldn’t immediately raise suspicions.

…Except, apparently, it hadn’t.

Because somehow, the team had only managed to land on half the conclusion: you were seeing someone.

But Aaron? Not even a blip on their radar.

It was almost impressive, really. The answer was so obvious that they had discarded it entirely, still wandering around in the dark, trying to piece together a puzzle that was sitting right in front of their faces.

Just like Penelope was doing now, so desperate for some reason that she was straight-up asking him outright - when not that long ago, she still thought twice before even making a dirty joke in his presence.

And so, you got up, walked over to Aaron, and held the phone directly under his nose. “What does this mean?”

He squinted at the screen, then at you. “Oh, honey, I don’t know. She always sends me that - I don’t understand what exactly equals the sign of integration”.

…What?

You were suddenly just as confused as he was.

He blinked at you, eyes wide, eyebrows raised in that utterly sincere, slightly bewildered way of his. “That sign before it,” he said, completely lost. “It looks Chinese. Thought you knew Chinese, sweetheart.”

…What?

Oh, for the love of God.

If this man hadn’t already seen the absolute worst horrors the world had to offer, you would fight for his innocence with your nails, your teeth, and - if absolutely necessary - one of the worst shooting records ever logged in the Bureau.

You looked at the screen again.

^.ᆽ.^= ∫

Oh.

Oh, that’s what had confused him.

“Aaron,” you said gently, doing your absolute best not to kiss him right then and there, “that is a cat.”

You sighed, then pointed at the message again. “By the way, the ‘sign’ in the middle is in Korean, not Chinese.”

He looked at the screen again - then back at you. “…Cat equals sign of integration?”

“No, honey,” you said, barely suppressing your smile, tapping the little text emoji. “It’s just a cat.”

He studied it for another second. “Oh.”

There. That did it. You gave in. Leaned in and pressed a loud smooch to his cheek.

At least your dignity was still intact - he had no idea why you’d done it, just assumed it was one of those spontaneous bursts of affection that came with being hopelessly in love.

Honeymoon phase truly did work wonders.

“Do you think I can have the cat too?” he asked, grabbing the bottle of red and a corkscrew.

That was a trap.

Because Aaron Hotchner still signed every single text he sent.

And while it wasn’t an issue when he was sending something standard -

Lawyer, 6:17 PM:

They found a new body, we’re gathering at the precinct in 30.

A.H.

- it became a lot more unsettling when he sent the filthiest, most depraved things you’d ever read, only to end them with that stiff little A.H. like he was dictating official Bureau correspondence.

Lawyer, 11:51 PM:

Sweetheart, if only these stupid walls weren’t so thin, I’d have you right here with me, bent over, face pressed against this mattress, making you come so many times you’d forget your own name. At least three. Maybe four, if I’m feeling generous.

A.H.

So now, standing in his kitchen, watching him pour wine like he hadn’t just permanently scarred you with his painfully bureaucratic approach to sexting, you knew that if you admitted he could simply copy-paste that ‘cat equals integration sign,’ it would only be a matter of time before you were subjected to something truly traumatizing, like -

Lawyer, very-late-office-hour PM:

It’s your fault I’m getting distracted with the paperwork, because I’m still thinking about how good you tasted last night while sitting on my face. God, I can still feel your thighs shaking, you were so sweet for me, honey, so fucking perfect.

P.S. How many reports do you still have left? Because I’ve been thinking about having you on my tongue again before the night is over. I think I’ve got about an hour or so left but then I’m all yours.

^.ᆽ.^= ∫

A.H.

Yeah. No. Absolutely not.

That man could not be trusted with the cat.

“Oh, honey,” you cooed, pressing a soft kiss between his shoulder blades as your fingers brushed over his back. “I don’t think you can get it. She must have programmed it herself into her phone.”

You truly hoped you were as convincing as he was clueless about text etiquette.

“It’s a pity,” he sighed, both of your wine glasses in hand as he made his way to the couch. “I would have loved to send you the cat.”

…Of course he would. Smug ass.

But as the words left his mouth, something shifted in him - just barely. A pause that didn’t usually belong there... weird.

Still, you followed, watching as he settled in, patting the cushion beside him with a half-smile. “Come here, sweetheart.”

A misleading gesture, considering his legs were very much spread - a much clearer invitation. At least, that’s how you chose to interpret it.

Because you could swear - those legs spoke to you. Called to you. So you slid right into your rightful seat - his lap.

…Would have been rude not to answer.

“Back to Garcia,” he said, resting a hand on your thigh as he handed you your painstakingly polished wine glass - so clean, so immaculately spotless, that the red wine inside looked redder than red. A real masterpiece, Mr. Clean. “She doesn’t seem to be letting up about finding out who you’re dating… This is the fourth message this week.”

You raised a brow, taking a sip of your wine. “Well, she’s second only to you when it comes to being nosy about gossip.”

Aaron exhaled, shaking his head, that same small half-smile back on his lips.

That particular smile.

The one he used when he was trying to convince someone he was fine when, in reality, he was not - when he was trying to reassure everyone else while simultaneously refusing to admit, even to himself, that something was eating him alive.

Oh, now you knew what this was about.

He had definitely practiced this conversation in his head - refined it down to the perfect phrasing. Measured. Logical. Reassuring.

A version so well-rehearsed, so carefully constructed, that he’d convinced himself first before trying to convince you - that this didn’t scare him.

That this was just another rational step forward.

That it was fine.

Because if he could make it sound easy, maybe it would be.

Maybe it would give you something solid to lean on, because the last thing he wanted was for you to feel like you were standing on shaky ground with someone just as fractured as he was.

But in the end, even the best-laid words couldn’t withstand the weight of his emotions - whether he liked it or not, even rocks are meant to erode.

“I think it’s time we come clean to the team,” he admitted, completely veering off-script - though, of course, he still made sure to soften the blow with a kiss to your temple.

Not that it made much difference. You both knew this moment was inevitable, but somehow, you’d managed to delude yourselves into thinking that if you just kept putting it off, the perfect time would miraculously appear.

At first, you’d delayed it until things were official.

Then, because you needed to be sure this could work in the long run.

Then, because you wanted time to just enjoy each other.

Truthfully? If it were entirely up to the two of you, you’d probably keep postponing it indefinitely - at least until the day you were both retired, far away from any fraternization rules or painfully awkward team dynamics.

Unless, of course, your eyes had been deceiving you all along, or life decided to be cruel and rip this happiness away from you before you ever even got the chance. All you could do was hope not.

Aaron sighed, watching you carefully. “So, how do you want to do this?”

At least he could take comfort in the fact that his very specific plan of having wine while discussing this was still intact - especially since the very large sip you took the second he asked hadn’t gone unnoticed.

He huffed a laugh.

Yeah.

This was going to be fun.

“Are we sure we have to?” You groaned, tilting your head back against his shoulder.

“I’m afraid so, sweetheart. It’s the only way to keep them from getting the satisfaction of figuring it out first and do this our way…”

It was his turn to take a long sip now… he surely wasn’t thrilled about the lack of an actual game plan.

“…Still need to figure out what exactly we mean by ‘our way,’” he admitted. “But, you know… that’s what these are for.”

He tapped a finger against his temple, then against yours, clearly implying that your very skilled, highly trained profiler brains would surely work this out.

You, however, were placing your bets on your problem-solving skills drastically improving after a few more glasses of wine, because right now?

“We are so fucked,” you commented.

Aaron clinked his glass against yours, deadpan. “Completely.”

You both took long, slow sips of wine like it might somehow provide divine intervention.

It didn’t. You were indeed left pretty much alone in this.

You sighed, setting your glass down on the coffee table. “Well, you definitely have the face of someone who already has a plan...” You reached up, brushing your fingers along his jaw. “...a very handsome face.”

Cheesy. But deserved.

Aaron chuckled. “I believe…” He kissed you on the cheek – twice - before setting his own glass down too. “…We should tell them directly. Get ahead of it. Lay it out as matter-of-factly as possible.”

“Matter-of-factly?”

He nodded, all serious, like he hadn’t just suggested the worst possible approach.

“Sweetheart…” You pinched his cheek, making him scrunch his nose, hoping – more like praying - that it would snap him out of whatever fantasy land of logic, reason, and good intentions he was apparently living in.

“If we tell them directly, Penelope will throw an actual partypersonally design matching t-shirts, and have the entire team wear them.” You paused, leveling him with a look. “And you know it wouldn’t be the first time.”

“I know.”

“Emily and Derek will immediately start making jokes like two middle schoolers who just learned what sex is and will not let us breathe.”

“I know.”

“JJ will be quiet but then ask all of a sudden, ‘So when’s the wedding?’ which will restart the chaos all over again.”

“I know.”

You turned to face him, deadly serious. “Spencer-”

“-Will hit us with a full statistical analysis of workplace relationships,” Aaron finished, exhaling sharply, already bracing himself.

Because there was only one team member left to account for - the worst of them all.

“And… oh God… Dave…”

And with that horrifying realization, he did the only logical thing a man in his position could do - he face-planted directly into your chest with a dramatic, muffled groan of pure defeat.

You blinked down at him, amused. “Honey…”

Why was he even so touch starved like that?

“All I ask,” came his muffled voice, still very much nestled between your breasts, “is five minutes of peace.”

You snorted. “You do realize this isn’t exactly discouraging me from making fun of you, right?”

He sighed again. “You do realize that if you keep laughing, you’re just shoving them further into my face?”

…Damn him and his irritating ability to state the obvious.

You sighed, fingers absentmindedly combing through his short spikes of hair. “…So we’re back to square one.”

Aaron exhaled, still very much face-first in his chosen safe haven. “Unfortunately.”

You hummed, “Okay, hypothetically, if we just… never tell them, how long do you think we could get away with it?”

That was so absurd that it actually made him lift his head. He blinked at you, utterly offended by the suggestion.

“I am not spending the next decade pretending I don’t stare at your ass every time you walk away.”

…Alright. That was definitely the wine talking.

In vino veritas, as the Romans said. Wine makes people say dumb shit: the truth.

“Wow. Didn’t know you were a poet, Hotchner.”

His lips twitched. “Don’t pretend you’re above it, because I catch you every time you drift off during briefings just to stare right at-”

“Alright, alright,” you cut him off, slapping a hand over his mouth before he could fully call you out... he was not happy about it. “We’re both shameless…"

You needed an exit strategy. Fast.

You reached for his wine glass over the coffee table. “Well, at least the bright side of telling them is that we won’t have to schedule our coffee breaks in advance anymore and pretend to look surprised when we see each other.”

And all of that was just for one single moment.

The fleeting brush of fingertips as you handed him the cup you always poured for him.

The way his hand was always warmer than yours, despite the fact that you were the one holding the scalding mug, as if basic thermodynamics simply did not apply to Aaron Hotchner.

And if it was one of those days, sometimes, there’d be a little extra something.

A longer touch.

Eye contact that lingered just a second too long.

A slow sip from his cup while still holding your gaze, and suddenly, it felt indecent - like something you definitely shouldn’t be doing in broad daylight, let alone in a federal building.

And now - here, in the comfort of his apartment, with nothing and no one to stop you - he reached for the wine glass you were offering, except… he wasn’t actually reaching for the glass.

He was just holding your hand.

Aaron chuckled, his thumb tracing lazy circles over your knuckles. “I think we’re holding onto this touch just a little too long,” he murmured, nuzzling into you, his breath warm against your ear. “Might start looking suspicious.”

Didn’t he knew exactly what he was doing.

“Oh, also some-” you started, or at least tried to, because as if everything else wasn’t enough, now he was kissing just behind your ear, his lips just brushing the sensitive skin there, warm, and slow, and wet and… God…

Okay. Okay.

Maybe it was the wine.

Maybe it was the fact that you were always kind of a little bit obsessed with him.

Either way, the result was the same: you really, really wanted him right now.

You sighed, tilting your head to grant him a little more access - but not too much, or you might actually end up using the full length of his three-seater couch instead of stubbornly remaining curled up in the same cramped two-foot space you’d unofficially claimed as your own. Ergo - going horizontal with him instead of just being seated on his lap.

“I thought we were having a serious discussion,” you murmured, though the breathy edge to your voice wasn’t exactly helping your case.

Aaron hummed in response, slowly dragging his lips from behind your ear down along the curve of your jaw, pressing a kiss at the hinge. “We are.” Another kiss. “What were you starting to say, sweetheart?”

And another one.

You tried to think. Really, you did.

But it was getting increasingly difficult with his mouth still very much on your skin, moving towards places that were making it exponentially harder to form coherent thoughts.

You would’ve made a mental note to never wear anything that resembled a tank top around him again, if only you had the actual brain capacity to form any notes right now.

“Aaron-”

Aaron smirked against your skin. “You were saying?”

…Blank. Absolutely blank.

Your brain stalled for a solid three seconds before mercifully rebooting.

“I-” You licked your lips, cleared your throat. “Penelope.”

That, thankfully, was enough of a keyword to get him to back off - though, the second he did, you already desperately missed the warmth of his mouth on your skin.

He tilted his head, “Penelope?”

You swallowed. “She’s… gonna be beaming.”

Aaron blinked at you. “Beaming.”

“Yeah.” You smiled, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, because God, he was too cute when he was confused like this. “Her and Kevin have been desperate for another couple to go out with. Ever since JJ and Will stopped leaving the house because they’re too busy baby-proofing every square inch of their lives.”

Aaron’s brows furrowed slightly. “And by ‘go out with,’ you mean double dates.”

You hummed, fingers grazing his cheek. “Mmm. Yeah. Double dates.”

Aaron didn’t even hesitate. “Oh, absolutely not.”

You blinked, pulling back slightly. “Wait, what?”

His face was resolute. “I’m not doing double dates.”

You squinted at him. “Okay, but why?”

And that’s how you learned that if there was one thing your boyfriend hated - more than messy paperwork, more than delayed flights, more than the Bureau’s budgeting meetings - it was double dates.

Not specifically with Penelope and Kevin. God, no. He was practically the puppet master of their relationship in the first place. Just… double dates in general.

“They’re impractical,” he said.

You snorted. “What do you mean?”

Aaron sighed. “They are a waste of time. You sit there, and for the first fifteen minutes, it’s fine. The usual small talk, polite conversation…”

You nodded, barely biting back a grin. “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

Honestly, this just sounded like some classic Aaron Hotchner being the most adorable introvert to ever exist.

He shot you a look, deadly serious. “It’s a trap.” You nearly cooed. Adorable. “Because at some point, you end up talking one-on-one with someone from the other couple. And right when the conversation is actually getting interesting-”

He suddenly paused.

His hand started at your shoulder, innocent enough - until it wasn’t, until it drifted lower, fingertips skimming down until they found your thigh, before sliding inward, squeezing your soft flesh there.

“See?” Aaron murmured, voice deceptively casual. “It starts off innocently. A hand on the shoulder…”He angled his fingers just a notch further up your upper thigh. “…Then the thigh. Then-”

He leaned in, kissing you just at the corner of your mouth.

"A little kiss here," he murmured, lips barely brushing your skin.

Then another - softer, lingering just at the very edge of your lips.

"A little peck there."

Okay.

Ahem.

For a man who hated double dates, he was making a very strong case for them.

This was clearly foreplay.

Had to be foreplay.

You chose to interpret it as foreplay.

So, naturally, just as you were about to pull him in properly - to finally taste the wine on his lips – he pulled back.

Mixed signals whore.

“And then,” he continued, and you swore his voice had gotten even lower - sluttier, if you were being honest - "it escalates.”

...Wine-induced yapper. "Because one couple decides a little peck isn’t enough, so they turn and start devouring each other’s faces… in public.”

The wine that was in your system, instead, suggested you should have him biblically, right here, right now, on his couch.

“Care to demonstrate this part too?” You licked your lips, tilting your head.

Aaron sighed “Honey.” You knew you were in trouble the moment he smirked. “You’re demonstrating my point…”

Your stomach dropped.

“…You want more.” Aaron tutted, shaking his head, feigning disappointment. “Of course you want more. A chaste kiss isn’t enough. How could it be, sweetheart?”

Hell yes you wanted more.

Badly.

You might have even nodded without meaning to.

“But imagine if this was happening in public. In front of two other people. What about them?” he murmured, tilting his head, voice dropping into something dark, silky, dangerous. “In front of two other people.”

You swallowed, very much not thinking about them right now.

“Because at that point, they only have two choices: they either sit there - third-wheeling, watching - or…” His hand slid beneath your shirt, fingers splaying wide over your bare waist, gripping, pulling you that much closer. "… they start doing it too."

Your breath hitched. “Aaron-”

"With just a kiss, it creates an environment," he murmured, lips grazing the shell of your ear, "where both couples get competitive. Where they start copying each other - but making it more…"

He dragged his nose along the curve of your jaw, the ghost of his lips tracing just behind it. "Passionate."

A teeth-grazing kiss against your pulse.

A slow drag of his lips down the column of your throat, before he made his way back up, tilting your chin up with his fingers just so, forcing you to look at him.

And God, that look.

"More tongue," he continued, letting you see it first - his own darting out, wetting his lips just before he brushed them over yours.

Not kissing.

Not yet.

“More biting.” Aaron caught your lower lip between his teeth, pulling just enough to confirm what you already knew -

He tasted like red wine.

Rich. Dark. Addictive.

And so did you.

“More touching.” His hand drifted, fingertips just skimming over your ribs, teasing along the underside of your breast - so close, so close, before he let it trail lower again, just as his lips ghosted over your ear.

"More sounds."

You barely bit back the breathy, desperate little moan clawing its way up your throat because -

Aaron shoved you off his lap.

In one fluid motion, he shifted, pressing you back into the couch, caging you in beneath him, his arms bracketing either side of your head.

His knee slotted between your thighs, pressing up just slightly - just enough to make you gasp, make your hips twitch without thinking.

You were pretty sure now that this was, in fact, foreplay.

“At that point,” he murmured, lowering himself, pressing his body against yours, pinning you down with nothing but his weight, “if you’re already getting ideas…”

Aaron rolled his hips against you, his knee shifting just enough to have you sucking in a sharp breath. “…it’s better off just staying home. Because at least then,” he whispered, “we can do this.”

And then he kissed you. Properly.

Deep and hungry, pressing you down into the cushions until you moaned into his mouth, pulling him closer as one of his hands slipped under your shirt.

“You-” you swallowed, trying to find words, but he stole them from you, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your jaw. “You expect me to believe this is why you hate double dates?”

“I expect you to understand,” he murmured against the sensitive skin of your neck, “that if I ever go on one…” he nipped at your pulse, making you gasp. “…I’ll be thinking about this the entire time.”

Then - click.

The sound of the button of your pants being undone, followed shortly by the hiss of your zipper. You felt the warmth of his fingertips slipping beneath the waistband of your pants, resting over your hip bone.

Well, fuck.

“You’ll be sitting across from me,” he continued, voice so unfairly composed, so infuriatingly smooth, “pretending to listen to whatever they’re taking about.”

He tilted his head, kissing along your collarbone, then much lower. You made a mental note to always wear anything resembling a tank top in his presence from now on.

“And the entire time…” his fingers dipped just slightly beneath the elastic of your underwear.

You shuddered. “Aaron.”

He hummed, pleased - so deeply pleased - before finally sliding lower, his fingers finally brushing right where you needed him most.

You whimpered.

“I’ll be remembering,” he murmured, “exactly how you sound right now.”

Your back arched into his touch, fingers digging into his shoulders, nails biting into muscle as his fingers moved.

“And how you look,” he added, his lips brushing the curve of your breast, “when you fall apart for me.”

Your breath hitched-

And then.

Then-

He stopped.

Just - stopped.

His hands left you completely as he leaned back, settling onto his knees above you, looking far too pleased with himself.

You gaped at him, betrayed. “Are you kidding me?”

Aaron just smirked, gaze flicking over you, taking in your flushed cheeks, your uneven breathing, the way your body was still desperately aching for him.

“See?” he shrugged, voice so damn smug. “This is why I hate double dates.”

How funny would it be if these ended up being his last words?

You huffed, adjusting yourself on the couch, crossing your arms like you weren’t still ridiculously turned on and very annoyed about it. “Alright, you know what? Fine. No need to suffer through a double date if we just… conveniently wait to tell the team about us until after JJ and Will start going back out with Penelope and Kevin.”

Aaron smirked.

At least you’d both come to an agreement - the exact same procrastination tactic you’d been using, just with a new and improved excuse attached.

“…Smart girl.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Don’t patronize me.”

“I wouldn’t dare, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes, still breathing heavily, still so deeply unsatisfied, as Aaron pressed a kiss to your temple, then stood, stretching his arms.

“I’ll clean the wine glasses,” he mused, already heading toward the kitchen. “And then I’ll be back to you.”

You stared at him.

He paused, glancing at you over his shoulder, smirking.

You huffed, sarcastic, “glad we could work this out.”

You were not glad. Not at all. Especially because not even a full minute later, your phone buzzed with a text.

From him.

From Mr. Clean himself, who was currently just a couple rooms away from you.

Lawyer, 8:43 PM:

Sweetheart, I hope you're ready, because I’m going to spread you out on that couch and fuck you so deep, you’ll still feel me when you sit at your desk tomorrow.

^.ᆽ.^= ∫

A.H.

"Garcia just told me how to get the cat," came his voice from the kitchen - so damn smug you could hear the smirk in it, followed the sound of his footsteps getting closer.

Before you could turn, before you could say anything, he was there - leaning in from behind the couch, arms sliding around you, caging you in, whispering into your ear -

"It was just a simple copy-paste."

taglist: @beata1108 ; @c-losur3 ; @fangirlunknown ; @hayleym1234 ; @justyourusualash ; @khxna ; @kyrathekiller ; @lostinwonderland314 ; @mxblobby ; @oxforce ; @percysley ; @person-005 ; @prettybaby-reid ; @reidfile ; @royalestrellas ; @ssa-callahan ; @softestqueeen ; @theseerbetweenus ; @todorokishoe2

#dado 400 #aaron hotchner #hotch #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x reader smut

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chaosartic · 3 days ago

Text

Throw away the caution! | LN4

word count: roughly 2k

warnings: overprotective brother Max Fewtrell, mutual pinning (a bit), Oscar is confused most of the time, bad writing (yes it requires a warning)

summary: Lando (annoyingly) has a crush on non other than his best friends younger sister, Y/n Fewtrell. It was his well kept secret. Why? Because he knows how overprotective Max is of you. What happens when Carlos and Oscar find out about it? Will a drunken night out celebrating a race weekend change their relationship?

a/n: Originally this was supposed to be a one shot but I’m turning this into a mini series. They’re probably going to be three parts. Please note that english is not my first language, I’m sorry for any mistakes in advance.

Lando and Max have been through a lot together as long as both of them can remember. And for just as long Lando has known y/n, Max slightly younger sister. What started as a harmless friendship slowly turned into something more, at least in Landos eyes.

It wasn’t until he was a teenager that he admitted his feelings to himself. He kept them hidden and a secret from everyone. At first he thought that they’re just temporary. The girl he used to climb trees with and joke around for hours grew into a beautiful young lady after all. But the feelings only grew stronger.

Lando was well into his twenties when he talked to someone about his crush, it was no other than his friend and ex teammate, Carlos Sainz. At first he tried to talk Lando into admitting his feelings to you but that was without success. Carlos tried to figure out if the feelings are both sided but he simply didn’t see the Fewtrell siblings enough for that.

He was the silent emotional support through everything after that, trying to get them together alone as much as possible without Max noticing. After all, Carlos didn't know how he would react to the news of his childhood friend loving his younger sister. There were a few close calls in the past but as far as anyone was concerned neither Max nor y/n knew about Landos feelings.

If anyone would ask him why he doesn’t confess his answer would probably be along the lines of wanting to concentrate on his career first. In truth he was scared of your rejection and your brother's disappointment. He and Max are friends after all and it might feel like some sort of betrayal to the older Brit.

Lando was currently in London since he had to be back at the MTC for his pre-season training and meetings. He loved being in his home country even if that meant that winter break was over. It means that he gets to spend time with his friends. Like this evening for example.

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You hate being late. It wasn't even your fault that a meeting with your boss ran over the scheduled time or that traffic today was worse than the past few days. You were meeting up with your brother, childhood friend and his teammate. And while Max assured you that your late arrival wouldn’t be a problem, anxiety and guilt still washed over you. You navigate your car without a problem down the familiar street to your brother's appartement. The night was cold but with a clear sky, a rare occurrence.

“You know you don’t have to get me anything when you come around.” Max greets you at the door as soon as he sees the flowers clutched in your hand. “Yeah yeah” you wave him off. The apartment was quiet, too quiet for the normal chaos that erupts when Lando and Max are together.

Max notices your confusion. “They got caught up with work stuff too. That’s why I told you not to worry.” He grabs the flowers ready to put them into an improvised vase while adding, “they should be here any minute though.”

“You could’ve added that little detail in your sentence,” you sternly joke with him. He pulls you into his arms mumbling something about next time he will. You missed this, the familiar feeling of being in your brother's arms. Work has been hell for you recently and you didn't get to spend much time with your family or friends. That’s why you didn't think twice about coming around tonight to spend a relaxing evening with your brother and an old friend of yours, Lando.

Before you could do anything else the doorbell rang, announcing the arrival of the McLaren drivers. “I’ve got it,” you said to Max before walking towards the door. When you opened it, you were a bit surprised when you saw only Oscar standing there. “Hey Oscar. Where is Lando?” you ask him after you let him into the flat. “Oh, he’s still parking the car or something,” Oscar said, “he’ll be here shortly.” You nodded your head at his explanation, softly closing the door behind him. You didn’t lock it though so Lando could get in easier.

Max came out of the kitchen to greet Oscar. While the two aren’t that close they still get along well, spending their evenings occasionally in bigger groups together. The Aussi was quickly accepted into the little group of you three after he joined Lando as his new teammate two years ago. You went back into the kitchen grabbing drinks for everyone while the boys already chatted about racing. The table was set, the ordered food waiting on the counter. There is only one thing missing now.

You still had a slightly anxious feeling that you couldn't shake off. Maybe it was because you would spend the evening in such close proximity to Lando. You haven’t said it to anyone out loud but you knew what the butterflies in your stomach meant. While you didn’t want to admit it to yourself just yet, you couldn’t hide it anymore. You were crushing hard and of course that person has to be your brother’s best friend.

“Hey mate”, Landos voice rans out through the apartment. He came into the kitchen with a wide smile, dimples showing on full display. He quickly pulled each of you into his arms as a greeting. His arms lingered around you for a bit longer, both of you silently enjoying the feeling. “Come on guys, the food is still warm.” Max called out while putting the boxes in the middle of the table. His voice was a bit rougher than usual, almost like he was hiding his emotions. You didn't notice it nor did Lando. Oscar however did notice it and for a millisecond a confused look crossed his face. It was gone before anyone could really notice it.

The four of you sat down at the table, a comfortable silence washing over the room. You sit next to your brother across from Lando. You noticed him looking at you a few times out of the corner of your eye. The butterflies in your stomach were running wild, but you hoped that it didn’t show. As much as you like the idea of being together with the Brit, you knew that it wouldn’t be a good idea. Not only because of his career but also because of your brother. You and Max were close and you know his overprotective sides when it comes to the topic of boys being around you. He was always a bit worried about them, maybe given the fact that he raced professionally. It didn't help that you know most of the formula one grid. He was scared of someone using you for your connections, he would not mention this fear though.

You aren't sure how Max would react to the news of you crushing on his best friend nor did you want to find out anytime soon. You talked about everything over dinner; racing, the upcoming season, video games and just what everybody did during the break. You remembered about a year ago when you were all sitting at the same table. Oscar was still new to the group and quite shy, but he opened up which was good to see.

“All right, how about we talk about something different than just racing,” you said. “Not everybody’s life depends on it.” You jokingly added, knowing that the boys love nothing more than to talk about it, especially when they were off for a few weeks. At some point the conversation shifts, now the talk was all about. testing and the upcoming season. “I have a question guys,” Lando suddenly said. His cheeks are a bit pink, unusually so. Your eyes looked over to Oscar slightly, he looked just as confused as you felt. It almost seems like Lando was shy about something perhaps not knowing what to do with the situation. “Do you have anything planned during the weekend when the season starts?” He finally blurted out after a longer pause.

“Not that I could think of,” you replied, looking at your brother. He also shook his head no. “Why do you ask?” “How about you come to watch it?” It was actually Oscar who voiced the question, his eyes always flickering up to you. It was almost like he was saving Lando from something, maybe embarrassment. “For sure,” Max answered quickly, not having to really think about it. The three men turn their heads to you waiting for your answer. “I’m not sure if I can get time off,” you said. “And also don’t exactly have the money for this trip.” You said shyly.

“Sweetheart, do you really think you have to pay?” Lando asked. You look at him shocked, did he really just say that? “I got it covered. Don’t worry about that.” He added quickly. Maybe it was your imagination, but he looked a bit embarrassed about saying it. Max looked at his best friend, confusion all over his features, shaking his head as if he was having a silent conversation with himself.

“Please y/n, it would mean the world for both of us,” Lando added, pointing at him and Oscar. He was almost begging at this point. You didn’t know why it was so important for him to have you there. A small part if you wanted to believe that it is because he also had a crush on you. But honestly those were unrealistic expectations. No, Lando could never have a crush on you. That’s for sure.

“Okay okay,” you gave in with a small smile. “I’ll see if I can get a few days off so I can join you in Australia,”you said. You see from the corner of your eyes that your brother has a sour look on his face again. An uneasy feeling settles in your stomach. ”Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I’m done.“ You try to ignore the look on Maxs face by changing the topic.You took both plates and put them into the dishwasher. You miss the way Oscar looks at both Max and Lando. Ever since this conversation started he has had a slightly confused look on his face, not that you noticed.

It was only a few days after that night when your request for the time off was accepted. That night you spend an hour or maybe two on FaceTime with Lando. He was back in Monaco preparing for the testing in Bahrain. It may have been a few days since that call but you can still see the way he smiled when you shared the news. It was one of the best things ever.

You already talked with Max about when you were leaving to Down Under. While you were more than excited to be in the paddock, see the race and talk to some of the drivers that you know, you couldn’t shake off this weird feeling in the pit of your stomach. It felt like this little trip would change everything but you weren’t sure why. Maybe it was because recently you and Lando have talked almost every night, intensifying your crush on the curly haired man. And even though you were nervous you couldn’t wait to see him in person again in Australia.

part 2 (coming soon)

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

I hope you enjoy it! Any feedback is appreciated!

Requests are open! Want to be added to the taglist? Feel free to reach out.

#f1 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #writing #lando norris x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris #oscar piastri #max fewtrell

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faeylayn-blog · 1 day ago

Text

"Dragon, I've come to slay you!" Confused, you look at the unarmored child pointing a wooden sword at you. Her eyes are shot through with blood red and the dried tears have left salt tracks down her cheeks that glisten in the icy realm you call your own. You’ve seen that look of determination before, by several humans with some emotional wound they seek to cover by trying to take it out on a valuable prize.

You lock eyes as your bulk shifts to align with hers in the narrow cavern. “So I see. And I have no doubt that you would do your utmost in your attempt. But I wonder…” You pause as she stumbles and struggles to maintain her posture. “If you might wish to rest and recover before you do so? You would need all your strength to slay a dragon such as myself, wouldn’t you?”

She grips her sword even more tightly, forcing it to remain pointed at your eyes. “You can’t trick me! I - I - I’m going to get you! You won’t make me stop so you can beat me while I’m not ready!”

You raise a claw to your chest, exaggerating the innocence to her accusations. “I have no intention of it. I simply think that it would not be a fair fight as you currently are. I give you my word that I will do nothing to harm you until you wish to fight me.” Your arm opens to a large alcove of soft plants and cushions you often nap in and quietly offer, “It’s such a long climb up to my home, surely you could use a few moments to catch your breath at least?”

Without waiting for an answer you turn to walk into the alcove, stoking a fire in the corner and looking around for the teapot your last human friend had left with you decades ago. Where did that damn thing go?

Behind you, a shuffling series of the lightest footsteps follows you accompanied by a very shaky “W-well, ok maybe.” A small yawn rises behind you as you set the teapot above the fire.

You turn to see the child rubbing her eyes while bouncing from one foot to the other in the opening from the main cavern. “So… umm… is this your… lair?”

A light chuckle escapes your throat. “I suppose you could call it that. But it is my home. Please, feel free to take a seat.”

She warily eyes every corner of the alcove as though a trap might jump out from any shadow. You smile as she hoists herself up onto a pillow and sinks into the soft platform.

She lets go of her wooden sword as she tries to sit up. It’s little more than two large sticks crudely tied together with a childish knot holding the cross-like shape. You clear your throat, “That’s quite a formidable weapon you’ve got there. Did you fashion it yourself?”

The child looks around in a panic before seizing the sword and holding it tightly to her chest. “Y-yes. I… I figured I’d need a strong weapon… to fight a dragon and all.” She eyes you, looking for any sign of anger or a need to defend herself.

“It certainly seems like a good idea if that’s what you need to do.” The teapot begins to whistle and you turn to take it off the fire, pouring some hot water over peppermint leaves and taking the tray over to her pillow. She’s not clutching the weapon as tightly when you place the tray down. “Do you like peppermint? I’ve been told it’s quite good after a long trek in the cold.”

You step back and loaf on the ground, and her shoulders lose the tension that had built up. She reaches over and takes the cup, sniffing it, “Mmm peppermint is my favorite.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” You search her face for the anger and determination that dominated her eyes when she first yelled out to you, but it’s been replaced with a calm softness that appears to come very easily to her.

“You’re a lot nicer than I’d thought you’d be.”

You stretch your neck and grin. “I certainly try to be. So you can imagine my surprise when I heard you say you wanted to kill me. I don’t know what I did that has earned such enmity.”

The child stopped drinking and just stared into her cup for several long moments. Shadows from the fire began dwindling as the flames turned to coals. A crack. A pop.

“It’s not that. It’s my dad. They wanted to get the dragon he talked about. They took him. He… “ she rubbed her eyes again. ‘He told me stories. I thought I could find you, and then maybe they’d give him back. Maybe.” The fiery energy from earlier was now barely smouldering as she looked drained. She closed her eyes but she had no more tears to cry. “I…. I had to do something.”

Her father told her stories of a dragon on top of this mountain. It can’t be… “You’ve done quite a lot, more than you could imagine. It’s taken so much for you to come all this way. Right now it’s time to rest, child.”

“Hmm, yeah… You promised, right? You aren’t going to hurt me? I… can rest?”

“I promise you. Please sleep.”

You watch her drift off into exhausted slumber. You’ll have to thank her for letting her know what happened.

You turn and walk out to the mouth of the cavern, each step building a rage you’ve not felt in many years.

She’ll be safe to stay here. But it’s time to pay an old friend a visit.

"Dragon, I've come to slay you!" Confused, you look at the unarmored child pointing a wooden sword at you.

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melanchoire · 2 days ago

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I need Karinas tits bouncing on my face 😔

i already have a fic about karina and the reader with an oral fixation (and which got so many notes btw?? thanks guys 💕) but kari and boobies are two things i could never get tired of SO HERE WE GO

cw: nipple play, titsucking.

this time it’s not about the reader with an oral fixation, but more about the secret fantasies that karina has in her mind 👀 you two were just cuddled up on the couch, relaxing and spending a lazy sunday afternoon together. of course, with your head on karina’s chest, with one hand resting on one of her breasts but not in a perverted way! but rather lazily tracing patterns of circles or imaginary drawings on her chest with the tip of your finger

“you always seem to enjoy that so much.” she would say mockingly, referring to your little, not–so–concealed obsession with her breast just because yes! your eyes seem to be glued to karina’s chest all the time, no matter if it’s during intimacy or something more everyday, your eyes are there

“makes me think you want more than just looking at them.” oh 😳

so this led to trying nipple play and titsucking with karina for the first time? WELL YES

karina is now sitting on your lap, her shirt and bra lifted up over her chest and leaving her breasts available to your hungry gaze and drooling mouth…

she is so sensitive about this 😵‍💫 karina never had so much attention on her tits before because her previous partners focused more on fucking her than exploring new things like this, typical vanilla sex with a couple of kisses and basic stuff!! never did any of them even try to see what else might please her… or try stuff like this 👀

she becomes desperate and craves more when you take your time taking her nipple between your teeth and sucking gently while running your tongue over the bud and you repeat the same action with the other, using her hand to push your face into her chest as if you weren’t practically face to face with her cleavage 🫠

isknzkskx playing with her own nipples and pinching them between her fingers when you capture her lips in a kiss to silence her moans because karina was starting to get really loud and you had barely even started doing anything 😣 oh and i bet she can cum just from having her tits played with…

#yu jimin #yu jimin x fem reader #yu jimin x reader #yu jimin smut #yoo jimin #yoo jimin x fem reader #yoo jimin x reader #yoo jimin smut #karina #karina x fem reader #karina x reader #karina smut #aespa #aespa x fem reader #aespa x reader #aespa smut

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deerspherestudios · 2 days ago

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First of all, hello

What is Atom's love language?

I like the fingers referring to the characters' love language, It's very interesting.

(I apologize if something is not understood, English is not my native language)

Greetings from Mexico 🇲🇽, take care of yourself, eat and drink water in a healthy way please ^^

//RUBS HANDS THANK YOU FOR INDULGING ME HERE IT IS 💜

This is about the most ✨self-indulgent✨ I can get with one of my characters because Atom is just about the BIGGEST simp there is among the cast. Here you go:

•┈••♡❤ Atom's Love Language(s) ❤♡••┈•

When you're on the receiving end; Mixed 🫴🎁💖

The thing with Atom is that it is entirely committed to returning the favor you did for them so long ago, like they said, "their kind answer action in spades."

And if that means providing every single whim your human heart desired, this could translate to offering both gifts and acts of service.

It is devoting it's entire being to that task (literally!) while you're staying on that ship.

I wish I could wax poetry here but it wants to be your vacuum cleaner, your Ford Cortina, your coffee pot, your leccy meter, your portable heater, your setting lotion. //lyr

You name it, Atom will become it!!

Nothing makes it happier than to pamper you like they strongly believe you should be for being their silver lining in darkness, their luna nova.

If Atom had the vocabulary to gush about you I would add words of affirmation here too. Alas, they only have themselves to give and hope you understand just how devoted they were to you for the rest of their life without saying it outright.

They just really really really love you, okay?

When it's on the receiving end; Physical Touch 🫂💕

Boy, where do I start! Touchstarved lads you're in for a treat.

It can't can't can't get the feeling of your gloves enclosing it so gently all those months ago out of its mindddd.

They wish to replicate that feeling by touching you anytime they can. Absolutely fascinated with your hands, in complete awe these were the ones that brought it to safety. They are nuzzling against your palms as we speak!

It's fully aware most humans get the ick when it comes to touching worms so while they wish they could touch you directly, most of the time it'll stay inside the suit.

It can sense touch from any part of the suit, so their helmet, gloves, boots, soles even, anywhere really.

They go bonkers for a headpat, go insane for a little peck on the glass of their helm. Hug them and they might implode.

If you're touch-averse, it'll try to respect it but they're gonna be vibrating from restrained effort the entire time sorry.

To the point if they're desperate, they'll just end up with tunnel vision on your presence at all times since they can feel through the ship, hyperfixating on the weight of your boots against the metal grating if they have to, literally worshipping you at your feet.

Overall their favorite activity is cuddling for sure and if you reciprocate, you'll find that they are very compact and huggable, 10/10.

In my deranged moments I've always wondered what it's like to hug the Michelin man and I think hugging Atom will feel similar.

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

#astronought vn #atom ask #did you know the michelin mascot has a name and his name is bibendum #how did we get here i was yapping about atom #i think atom possessed me for a second #anyways #did you KNOW this CAN OF WORMS loves YOU

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klausysworld · 2 days ago

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Hiii I absolutely love your oneshots. Can you please do one with Elijah mikaelson. Similar to your klaus one shot about the reader having a lack in height.. Elijah is OBSESSED. Reader could be like (4’10 to 5’1?)

Uncontrollable Love

It shouldn’t have turned him on as much as it did.

Just looking at her made him stir.

It had gotten to the point where even Niklaus was teasing him about it all.

Whenever Y/N would leave the room Elijah’s eyes would follow and someone would snicker.

He hadn’t realised quite how tiny she was the first couple times, Y/N always seemed to be sitting the first few encounters so when he had been too focused on sorting out his cufflinks and bumped into her, he didn’t realise who it was.

Not until she spun back around and called out his name with a smile on her face.

“Oh..” He breathed, Elijah hadn’t remembered the last time he’d been at such a loss for words but looking down at her he was. Y/N barely reached his chest, let alone being at eyeline. Her head was tilted all the way back, looking up at him with such a sweetness that it made his dead heart thump quickly. His head shook a little, trying to urge his thoughts back. “Y/N.” He nodded, “Forgive me, I wasn’t looking.” His throat cleared, he felt like he sounded funny. Did he sound different? Was his voice too high? Too deep?

He wasn’t so sure and he could feel the bead of sweat on his forehead.

“That’s okay, neither was I.” She smiled, holding up her phone as if to show him what she had been looking at. Her expression shifted, a slight frown and it made him worry more. “Oh did I mess up your tie? I’m sorry, I must've knocked it somehow.” Y/N reached up as she said so, her arms stretched up to straighten his tie.

Her fingers were so close to him, almost touching him. Usually he was very possessive of his belongings, especially his extensive tie collection but he couldn’t help but want her to stroke every inch of fabric he owned.

He couldn’t take it, just watching her. It was straining him.

Without a word he had left the room, leaving her confused but she simply shrugged it off and went on her way.

From that day he couldn’t help but imagine her with him all the time.

Wondered how she’d look snuggled up against him, gods he’d be able to wrap his body all the way around her.

He’d imagine her sitting on his lap, straddling him. Her thighs stretched open as she looked up at him with her big eyes. It made him throb.

Every morning he had to reach over her, grab the cereal and pass it down to her and every time he couldn’t help but let himself press against the back of her.

At lunch he’d get too nervous that she might slip and slice her finger off when she cut her sandwich in half so he’d hastily make his way down the stairs and grab the knife before she could. She’d laugh, such a bubbly laugh that would make his heart clench and she’d tell him that she wasn’t a small child but he could always see the level of comfort and enjoyment she took when he sliced her sandwich into two triangles and shifted them onto a plate for her.

Once dinner rolled around he’d be all over her in the kitchen. He’d lift her onto the counter, watching her legs swing back and forth as he slid the herbs across to her when she asked for them.

She’d talk so much to him then, and he would always listen of course. It was impossible not to pay attention to her, her voice was addictive. But he also couldn’t stop himself from admiring her. He just wanted to hold her, feel her, know that she was his.

Pure and utter joy would fill him when his brother announced another event they were throwing.

It meant Y/N would be held against his chest, letting him lift her off the ground and dance her all around the room like she was just a petal in the wind. In addition to that, at the end of those events, Elijah was almost guaranteed a kiss from her.

He’d walk her back up the stairs, her dainty hands clutching his bicep as she spoke to him about how lovely the evening had been. Once they got to her bedroom he’d clear his throat, a faint smile creeping on his lips but he needed to keep it back.

Y/N would tuck her hair behind her ear, a nervous habit Elijah had discovered, and look up at him through her lashes.

“Thank you for being with me all night.” She’d whisper, her foot sliding in and out of her heel, another habit, before she’d reach up to wrap her fingers around his tie. Elijah would always have to hold his breath so he wouldn’t let out a groan.

She’d tug him down and he’d eagerly lean so that their lips could meet.

Always soft and innocent but would linger slightly too long for it to mean something casual.

His hand would hold her waist, he felt as though he could fit her in one hand.

“Goodnight Elijah.” Her voice would utter before she disappeared into the confines of her room.

Elijah would have to sit as quietly as he could in his reading chair, his hair damp as he stroked himself like a desperate animal. His hips would jump as though somehow he’d lost the control over himself that he had trained himself to have over centuries.

It took him an embarrassingly long time to finally cave to his feelings and bring her to his bed. But once he had her, he knew she’d never be able to leave him.

Elijah was in a state when her legs wrapped around him, his hands traced the short length of her body over and over and she knew how much he loved her size. Especially once her fingers were trying to wrap around his cock, the contrased made his hips just. Watching her pretty pink lips stretch around the head made his hands tangle in her hair, he just couldn’t believe what was happening.

Even once he was deep inside her, he couldn’t help but watch as his cock disappear inside her over and over, he could feel her pussy stretching around him. He looked so big between her legs.

Y/N moaned and whined like a needy whore and it made him crazy.

“Just desperate to be split in two by my big cock, aren’t you baby?” he would taunt against her ear, relishing in the way she would clench around him.

Once she finished around him, he would pump her full of his cum, not once tearing his gaze away from how it all spilled out of her.

Elijah was a carer, that much was evident just with his siblings but with Y/N he was even more so.

He never wanted her walking, holding her tight instead, needing her legs around his waist all the time and arms over his neck. He needed her to need him, to cling to him like his soul would cling to hers.

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complete-clownery · 12 hours ago

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some fun facts about this whole picture

(also just because I share all of this with you guys, nothing is set in stone, if you have your own theories that's the coolest thing ever!!! Share them with me please!!)

🍜Some of y'all said that Macaque was sitting alone but believe me just because Bai He turned around to chat with MK and Mei she is only there because Macaque came and Macaque is only there because Bai He bagged him to tag along,

THEY COME IN A PAIR DO NOT SEPARATE IN GROUP PICTURES!!!

🍜 You might have noticed that some of the chopstick holders and sauce holders have stickers on them. Those were put there by MK. He first did it when he was much younger to help decorate the shop because he overheard a convo between Tang and Pigsy discussing renovation and finances - it was a whole thing - Pigsy even got mad at MK, but they figure it out eventually and nowadays when the stickers get too worn MK replaces them with new ones

🍜 Mei is showing Bai He a puppy video you can hardly see it

🍜 Mei hardly even touches Red Son in the illustration, Red Son is just completely distraught by the idea of being so close to someone. (He's very embarrassed they might be blushing a bit too (I just went able to draw that properly lol))

🍜MK is sitting on outside of the boot because he keeps on getting up and helping pigsy around (it's not even conscious anymore, whenever they sit down with the others he sits somewhere, where he can easily get up to land a hand to Pigsy (or to anyone))

🍜 Yeeah Yeah okay,,, I know there is a shadowpeach shaped question in the room bugging your minds like: omg clownery is it on purpose that they are the only characters that we can't see the faces of???

And my answer to that is: I made this drawing on a whim, I started drawing it purely to mess around with perspective and expected to give up halfway bc it looked ass, I could have hardly given it any deeper meaning or thought. How could've I possibly planned anything? The core elements of this picture are all managed to get made up while I was drawing it...

Except from this one ;]

See when I sat down and got an idea about a group picture I wanted to differentiate the celestial monkeys (excluding MK) from the main group

This picture takes place some time after season 3 and a bit before season 4. I would like to say that Wukong and Macaque are not a part of this group. Especially in season 3 both of them have done terrible shit and regardless of where they're sitting and what they are doing, they're not part of it all.

For Macaque this is pretty easily illustrated, he is the one who stands out the most, not a lot of people want him there since they did try to kill members of the group even if he was under the influence of LBD. He's at a different table MK invited them bc MK genuinely wants to be friend Macaque, but this was already stated: Bai He wants Macaque to be there - I have a lot of head canons about their relationship but I'm not going to talk about this here cuz this rant might get even longer - but Bai He at first was scared as fuck with Wukong around, she only felt better when Macaque was there. She has gotten better since then, as you can see she's pretty comfortable with MK and Mei (even Red Son surprisingly), but she still needs Macaque there.

Making Wukong stand out and look isolated is a bit more tricky... He's in the group seemingly chatting with Sandy, he's there part of the whole thing, but there are subtle hints about his environment and body language you might notice:

Well for once he is turned away from the pov, we cant see his face already distancing him from you guys the viewers.

His body language is also closed off, arms crossed, legs just next to each other tightly, he's not comfortable, he's somewhere else, Sandy is there but his talking at Wukong rather than talking to him.

Also It has been made pretty evident in the show that Wukong loves eating right? If he was perfectly comfortable and at ease he would at least have 3 bowls of noodles yet he barely touched anything, he's not eating.

I mean he almost got Mei killed and the whole plan screwed since he was unwilling to cooperate and share his plans with the others. I like to think that Mei just straight up ignored him for a while,, same with pigsy,, those two had enough of Wukongs past getting MK in trouble, they do not like him (and them being so buddy buddy with him in later seasons is annoying af to me,,, maybe season 5 gets some form of pass, because more time has passed and Wukongs actions in season 4 were considerably better, but they were waaaaay too comfortable with him at season 5,,, it bugged me a lot)

I think they're also very aware of each other's presence (I have a whole au that plays between season 3 and 4 explaining how Macaque started living on the FFM with Wukong, so in that context,,,, damn they are having a BLAST especially Macaque, he would like to be anywhere but near Wukong :] )

🍜Also they're sitting away from each other as far away as possible, and (this was not planned and got pointed out by one of my friends) Wukong is sitting closest to the sun and Macaque is the one who is in the shade the most

Sorry about the big monkey rant, I am just so extremely shadowpeach pilled that it distracts my brain form everything else

And once again: I tell all this stuff to you guys, but feel free to come up with your own theories about the illustration, details, backstories, whatever you have in mind. You guys have different interpretations makes it all the more fun!!

Please share your theories with me in the comments I would love to hear them 🍎🍊🍊

I'll edit this if I have more ideas 💡

Wow okay

#clown does art #lmk #lego monkey kid #lmk sun wukong #lmk macaque #lmk mk #lmk mei #lmk tang #lmk pigsy #lmk freenoodles #lmk sandy #lmk red son #lmk bai he

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00valentina-writes00 · 2 days ago

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PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE! Write a smut where Vi is fucking the reader but the Reader fakes an orgasm but vi dose not find out right then and there. Instead vi finds out when they are hanging out with friends and drinking and playing games where someone asked “have you every faked an orgasm” and than before reader could say anything Vi says “no she hasn’t” like really cocky and then the reader is like actually I have once but it’s because I was really tried and then vi is like shocked but dose not say anything and they keep going for the night. And then when they get home vi is ALL OVER THE READER and says “I’m gonna make up for that one time you faked it. Right now and I’m gonna make you have the best one of your life that you forgot your fucking name.” And she DOSE. She fucking delivered that shit.

♡♥︎ MAKE IT UP TO YOU ♥︎♡

Warnings: smut, strap-on sex, mild dominance, Vi being competitive and cocky, reader getting absolutely wrecked.

It wasn’t like you meant to fake it.

You were just so fucking tired, and Vi had been going at it for a while, doing everything right, touching you just how you liked—but your body wasn’t cooperating.

So you’d made the call.

A little tensing up, a breathy moan, a few shakes for dramatic effect—and Vi had bought it, completely.

You felt a little guilty, but it wasn’t a big deal, right? It was one time.

Or so you thought.

It all fell apart at a game night.

You and Vi were knee-deep in drinks, hanging out with friends, playing one of those truth-or-drink type of games.

Someone read the next question out loud, grinning:

“Have you ever faked an orgasm?”

You didn’t even get the chance to open your mouth before Vi leaned back, smirking, and said, so fucking cocky,

“Nah, she hasn’t.”

Your stomach dropped.

Everyone laughed, teasing her for being so confident, but you just stared at her, your drink suddenly feeling way too strong in your hand.

“Actually…” you said hesitantly.

Vi’s smirk froze.

“I… might’ve, uh… once.”

Vi’s head snapped toward you so fast you thought she might get whiplash.

“What?”

You gave her an apologetic shrug. “I was just really tired, babe.”

The group oohed, making it so much worse, and Vi just sat there, processing, lips slightly parted, eyes wide as hell.

But she didn’t say a word.

Just nodded once, took a slow sip of her drink, and kept the game going like nothing had happened.

Like she wasn’t plotting your fucking demise.

—-

The second you stepped into your apartment, the door barely clicking shut, Vi was on you.

You gasped as your back hit the wall, Vi towering over you, her fingers already gripping your jaw, tilting your face up to hers.

Her voice was low, rough, her breath warm against your lips.

“I’m gonna make up for that one time you faked it,” she murmured, eyes burning into yours.

Your breath hitched.

“I’m gonna make you come so hard you forget your fucking name,” she growled.

And then she delivered.

—

You were on the bed, naked, legs spread, Vi between them, grinding the thick strap against your cunt, the strap glistening with your wetness as she dragged it up and down your folds, teasing you, keeping you on edge.

You whimpered, hips twitching, trying to get more, and Vi just chuckled darkly, hands gripping your thighs, keeping you right where she wanted.

“Needy little thing,” she teased, pressing a slow, deep kiss to your inner thigh.

You gasped when she finally pushed in, the strap stretching you open, the sensation making your back arch off the bed.

“Fuck—”

Vi groaned, gripping your hips tight, keeping you still as she sank deeper, watching your face twist in pleasure.

“That’s it,” she murmured, voice husky. “You feel that, baby?”

You nodded weakly, panting, your nails clawing at the sheets.

Vi smirked, grinding her hips, the strap pressing right against that spot, making your entire body jolt.

“Yeah,” she whispered. “You’re gonna fucking feel this.”

And then she started moving.

It was punishing, her pace relentless, the sound of her hips slapping against you, her strap hitting deep, fucking you open, making you whimper and squirm.

“You faked it, huh?” she growled, voice strained, hands gripping your hips so tight you knew there’d be bruises tomorrow.

You couldn’t even respond, too busy moaning, gasping for air as she fucked you raw, the pleasure overwhelming.

Vi was so fucking smug, watching you, her lips curled into a grin, sweat dripping down her arms.

“Not this time, baby,” she murmured, leaning down, her chest pressing against yours, her lips brushing your ear.

“You’re gonna cum for me for real.”

And then she angled her hips just right—

Your vision went white.

You cried out, back arching, the orgasm ripping through you, your entire body shaking as pleasure exploded through your veins.

Vi groaned, watching you, riding you through it, her thrusts slowing but still deep, milking every last shudder and tremble from your body.

She kissed you softly, murmuring against your lips, “That’s my girl.”

She didn’t stop.

By the time she was done, you were wrecked, boneless, lying there in a dazed, sweaty mess, your body still twitching from overstimulation.

Vi chuckled breathlessly, collapsing beside you, her hand coming up to cup your cheek, tilting your exhausted face toward hers.

“You good?” she murmured, pressing a lazy kiss to your swollen lips.

You could barely speak, could barely even move, your entire body still buzzing from how hard she fucked you.

Vi just grinned, brushing your hair out of your face.

“Yeah,” she murmured, smug as hell. “That one was real.”

#arcane #arcane x reader #arcane x female reader #arcane x you #arcane x y/n #arcane drabbles #vi arcane #vi x reader #vi imagines #vi league of legends #vi fanfic #vi headcanons #violet arcane #vi smut #vi x reader smut #arcane x reader smut #arcane fic #arcane smut #arcane imagine

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smutallyouwant · 2 days ago

Text

Twice Fic World chp. 7

Twisted Company

Word Count: 2.5k

Mina x M reader, Momo and Sana x M reader

[ Spit play, Hard fucking ]

" Mhhhh, mhhhh, ugh~~ Y/N your dick is just the best " Mina moaned.

You've done your work early as usual and Mina took a time off to let out some steam with you. Mina' s cries of pleasure echoed in the emergency exit as you give her back shots while she held on tight to the steel handrail.

All of your things and clothes were on the floor except Mina' s top.

" Mmrmrhhh, hhhhushh, mhh "

Mina grinned and muffled her moans trying to silence herself. You then reached for her chin and held her face backwards to give her some kisses for her to release the tension.

Her lips were sweet as usual and both your tongue passionately rubs with each other and brings you tingle every time.

" I'm cumming baby, please don't stop, don't stop fucking me even if my body limped from the pleasure, ~~~ughh it feels so fucking good! " Mina pleaded in your face.

" Yes baby I'll keep fucking you until I burst this cum inside you "

" Yess babyy, that's right I'm cumming! I'm cumming! "

Mina covered her mouth to muffle her moans as her body trembles and her knee loses strength. Her eyes rolled in delight, she's now gripping the handrail barely maintaining her balance so you moved her facing the wall. You hugged her tightly and your other arm gripped her waist.

Mina' s sweet juices dripped to the floor and she's now letting her moan out not thinking that someone might hear her.

" Ughhh~~ ughhh~~ fuck, fuck, yessss babyy aaregh ! "

" Do you like fucking me Y/N? " Mina turned and asked with a cute but lustful smile.

" Yes baby, I love fucking you "

" Then cum for me baby, take it all out in my dripping pussy "

" Take it all out in your work slut' s pussy, see I'm still trembling from your dick hehe"

Mina teases you as she trembles from your work. She's been climaxing for a while, her body twitches and her pussy becomes tight as juices flow out in her.

" I'm cumming baby ! "

" Yessss, yesss, cum!cum! Cum already"

" Mhhhhhh~~~ ~~ughhh "

You moaned in unison as you plunged your length deep in her. Cum flowed out from her pussy mixed with her juices as you two made out while maintaining the position.

" That was so good baby "

Mina said after tidying up, you pecked her cheeks and lips more as the two of you hugged for a couple of seconds. You went out first before texting Mina that the outside is clear before both of you went to each other's office.

You waited for your time out while enjoying poker on your desktop and playing some offline games on your phone.

" Hey Y/N, I'll go home now Chae is waiting for me, bye "

Mina went to your block and said goodbye before leaving you with a smirk and a wink.

" Okay Mina, take care " you said with a smile.

You get ready to go home yourself. After arriving home, you took a nap right after taking off your pants.

It was 8:30 in the night when you were awakened by a phone call.

" What the heck, who's calling in this time? " You whispered to yourself.

Oh it's OIC Sana

Hey Y/N, Can you come here? *address* Please come I'll wait for you.

: Okay Sana, I'll be there.

You quickly took a quick bath and wore casual pants and polo. You went to the address and you're welcomed by two women giving you such alluring glances.

" Hi! Y/N ! " Sana greeted you with a smile before approaching you with a hug.

As you hugged Sana and felt her supple bossom, you're checking out the other girl she brought with her.

" Oh, you're... What was your name again? Sorry hehe " You pointed at the girl and apologized.

" Oh it's, Momo. We never talked at work so it's alright that you don't know my name Y/N "

" Oh yeah it's you, Momo "

" She's a friend of mine, I referred her to Jihyo to work for the company" Sana boasted.

" Oh, nice to meet you tonight Momo "

" Let's go Y/N, were drinking together tonight" Sana said as she pulled you by your biceps.

You can feel her side boob touch your skin from her tank top.

" Really? You woke me up from my sleep to have a drink? And I have work tomorrow Sana " you declined.

" Come on Y/N, just tonight pleaseee. Also so you can know Momo more hihi " Sana enticed you with her cute smiles.

" Okayy okayy fine, I guess, I'm not going to drink much okay? "

" Okay Y/N! " Sana excitedly answered.

" Sorry Y/N, my friend here is so high maintenance hahaha" Momo jokingly said.

" Yeah you're right"

" Hey, don't pick a fight on me! " Sana implied with a pinch to your cheeks.

You walked by a dimly lit alley and to an unfamiliar road.

" Btw, where are we going? I don't think there's a bar right around here "

" We're not going to a bar, stupid "Sana teases.

" We're going to Momo's place, we already bought our drinks inside Momo's bag "

Momo then let you take a look in her bag.

" Wow you're really prepared huh "

You arrived inside Sana's apartment and quickly prepared for the drinking sessions on the floor with a low table. Momo brought out roasted chicken legs and wings from her fridge and heated it in her microwave.

Sana took off her blazer polo and set it aside. You can now take glances on her silky white skin and observe her boobs shape from outside her top.

" Wait for me okay, I'll just change my clothes " Momo said to the two of you.

As Momo turned her back Sana faces you.

" Hey Y/N " Sana whispered as she pulled you for a kiss.

It started with some gentle pecks of your lips before it turned into a passionate make out. You grab Sana's neck as she caress your hair. Her lips are as sweet as pie and you can't get enough of her kisses. Your lips traced her chin with kisses falling down through her neck.

Sana just bit her lips and her gaze to you was seductive. But suddenly her grip into your hair loosens and she gently pushes you away.

Momo just arrived with piping hot chicken from the kitchen.

Both of you gave Momo some awkward smiles before Momo sat on the floor and started opening the drinks that they bought.

Sana is clingier as ever, casually hugging your biceps and pressing your legs as the three of you converse on the table.

Time went by and Sana was dizzy and was evidently drunk. Sana just stared at you like a statue for the whole 5 minutes while you talked with Momo about silly things.

" Hey Sana, you can kiss Y/N, you should not hold yourself "

As Momo said this, Sana smiled and pulled you for a make out session. You didn't dare to pull out but your eyes were locked to Momo drinking her shots. It looks like she doesn't mind so you continue on what you're doing.

Sana pulled out the kiss and looked at you with her gloomy and cute eyes. Before taking her shot that Momo made.

" You should tell me how you two ended up like this, aren't that just right Sana? "

" Hahaha yes, I'm sorry Y/N but Momo knows that we fucked in the office "

You were shocked and asked how she knows.

" Well I just told her hahaha, I told her that I fucked someone in the company and that I'll invite him to drink tonight, it was you Y/N " Sana said.

" I never thought it was Y/N, because she have a girlfriend"

" Ohhhh, hehehe " you said as you scratch your head.

" Aren't Mina your girlfriend? " Momo asked with a puzzled face.

" Uhmmm... no, it's just how we act together",

" That's it huh, so she's the one that joined you and Sana? "

Sana laughed as Momo deducted it all.

" My friend Jihyo, the company owner told me that she has a man that replaced me in sucking her boobs, it's kinda sad so I went to know who it is " Momo explained.

" Hey Momo, Y/N love big boobs, show him yours " she added.

" Huh? What? No it's alright Momo " you said in disbelief.

" It's alright Y/N we're all adults here, take a good look "

Momo said as she lower her tank top's straps and lowered it revealing her plump bosomy boobs.

" It's definitely big, I say it's close to Jihyo's but it's much more plump I love it"

" See he loves it already hahaha " Sana teased you.

You pulled Sana and put her on your lap. You caress her ass and pushes it the way that she grinds on your bulge.

" Let me get this off " Sana muttered as she unbuttoned your pants and removed it.

She's now grinding on her own as your arms linger on her back and thighs.

" Want to see my boobs too? "

" Yess please " you said with a smile.

Sana removed her top showing her perky tits that she made you suckle. Her grinding intensifies and her arms are wrapped in your head.

Momo grabbed the bottle of the gin that is nearly empty and drank all of its content before crawling near your face.

Sana grabbed you for a deep kiss and guided you to kiss her shoulders next.

" What can you say Momo? Aren't he good looking? "

" Yeah, he's not too bad "

Sana then palmed your face and guided it facing Momo, her tongue invaded your mouth, and your body responded to it naturally. After being satisfied with the kiss she bumped her boobs into your face ordering you to worship them.

You immediately obliged. Both your hands groped her tits as you suckle on her nipples simultaneously.

" That's it Y/N, show me how you love my titties "

While you're working on Momo, Sana takes the opportunity to lick and kiss every inch of your body. She first teases your nipples before going down and lucking up your toned abs. Sana is obviously a big 'abs ' girl, she massages your abs while licking them feeling every bump and corner that it has.

Momo switches to deep passionate kissing once in a while as Sana unbuckled your pants showing how hard you are even with your boxers on. She immediately removed them exposing your pumping hard dick.

" God I missed this so much "

Sana whispered before licking its head and shaft. She gently kissed your length covering it completely with her saliva before giving it some good sucking. You and Momo watched her as she gave you a passionate blowjob, her face shows how she loves sucking your big dick. She's not taking it too deep but her blowjob skills compensate for it. Her tongue swirls and licks the head every time she suckles it out, her checks gently presses your dick in between them but with accurate pressure that it doesn't hurt but feels too good. The stimulation makes your breath heavy and Momo anticipated that you're cumming. Momo caressed your back and she leaned towards you to suck your nipples adding pleasure to your body.

" Just like that Sana, I'm cumming "

Sana didn't dare to stop but kept the pace she was doing. As cum spurts in her mouth she kept on sucking but slowed down the pace to not overstimulate you. Cum kept on spraying on her mouth but nothing spilled in her mouth. She skillfully swallowed every batch of your cum every stride of her mouth.

" Was that good Y/N? " Momo asked as Sana kept on doing her work.

You nodded.

" Is my kiss good?" She added.

" Yes it was sweet and a little bit spicy "

" Then open your mouth " she commanded.

You obliged and she palmed your cheeks as she leaned forward and took out her tongue. Saliva dripped on it and you happily took it and swallowed it, it was weirdly good. Momo gently pulled in her tongue collecting more of her mouth water and out again for your another drink. After taking it, Momo made you suck her tongue.

" Very good Y/N, was that good? "

You nodded.

You did not know that you had this kink before having what had happened now.

" Is my blowjob really that good daddy? " Sana asked.

" Yes Sana it was so fucking good "

" Just call me baby, and we'll call you daddy "

" No, I'll call him my good boy. Is that right my good boy? " Momo asserted.

You nodded.

" Do you like my spit? "

" Yes Mo... "

Momo put a finger on your lips.

" Call me noona "

" Yes noona "

" Good boy "

Sana wasn't happy at all, she quickly removed her bottom and rode your dick that is already hard again. Momo positioned herself on the side and made you lay on your back. Momo stimulates your hard nipples again as Sana works in bouncing on your dick.

" Fuckk~~ it's so deep daddy it feels so good"

" I can't take it anymore " Momo mumbled.

" I'll sit on you okay? You'll drink my pussy juice this time "

Momo sat on your face, Sana switched into rocking motion as she leaned on Momo's back and fondled her boobs.

" Your boobs are so nice Momo, it makes me so comfortable " Sana teases Momo before giving her shoulders and neck some kisses.

You suckled Momo's clit and inserted your tongue in her pussy licking the top part of her insides, that made her moan in pleasure.

" Yes yes, just like that, ughh~~ good boy "

Momo started grinding gently on your face. Sana stimulates Momo's body, two women using your body to pleasure themselves.

" Yesshhh~ yeshhhh it's coming " Momo moaned.

" I'm cumming too baby! " Sana added.

The two of them began rocking their hips intensely.

" Aaaahgh!!! Uaarrghhhh! "

Momo screeched as she lifted hed hips up and squirted just above your head. A few pussy juice drips on your face but you don't mind at all. You just closed your eyes and did not breathe so you won't drown. Sana on the other hand plunged your dick deep in her tightening pussy and squirted on the spot.

" Ughhhh~ fuckkk that was so good "

Sana moaned as she trembled in pleasure, her pinch on Momo's nipples hardened.

" You ate me so good Y/N , that was really good " Momo said as she catch her breath and fixes her hair.

" Yeshhh it was so good "

Sana said as she pulled herself out of your dick, she was shaking.

" Whooo! Let me rest a bit " Sana implied.

" Then rest, I'll take his dick finally "

The three of you went to Momo's room where you fucked Momo from the back.

" Fuck it was really big, I'm full of your cock baby boy "

You pulled Momo's hair that made her scream she stared at you with an annoyed grin mixed with lust.

" I'm not your good boy, when I'm fucking you, you're my slut okay? I'm your daddy, you understand? "

Momo nodded.

" Then say it "

" Yes daddy, I'm your little fuck slut "

" Good girl "

You spat on her face, Momo was shocked but she instinctively collected the spit with her fingers and sucked on them.

" Fuck that was hot " you whispered

You repeated it two more times before you spat on your palm and painted Momo's face with your spit.

" Open your mouth "

Momo obliged and you used three of your fingers to play with her mouth. You gathered her saliva and made Sana suckle on your fingers.

" Slap my face daddy, punish your little slut"

You wasted no time shaping her well in the face. You slapped a few more times with your back hand and every time you did, her insides tightened and she couldn't help but scream her moans. After a few seconds, you felt a warm liquid flow through your dick, and Momo was trembling from pleasure.

" How dare you reach your climax before me you fucking bitch "

You then fucked her fast and you grabbed her cheeks to her mouth.

" I'll cum inside you, take it all! "

Momo's inside tightened up as you cum inside her.

" Good girl, good job tightening your pussy as I cum here's your reward"

You leaned towards her to give her a spoonful of your saliva.

" Let me have too! " Sana said

You gave her some of it too.

" You two share it "

Momo and Sana made out as you rest from the side, after catching your breaths you joined them and the three of you made out for a couple of minutes.

" That's so fucking hot, I can't believe how hard you're going with Momo "

" That's how she likes it, I loved it too though, right Momo? "

" Yess, fuck I didn't expect your dick to be that big and that good "

" What the fuck Y/N, are you planning to make a harem at our company? Hahahaha " Sana jokingly said and three of you laughed.

As much as you want to fuck the two of them a few more times, you still have to rest and work tomorrow. You made that clear to Sana earlier so she let you leave after waving goodbye to the two of them.

The next day...

You arrived early at the office intending to finish your work early again. You went directly into your block desk.

" Hey Y/N you're so early today "

Momo greeted you and it looks like she waited for you besides your desk.

" There's still no people in here at this time, would you like me to suck you off? I didn't get a chance yesterday"

" Fuck, okay let's to that, we have 20 minutes at most so you better be good at it "

" You bet, take it out and I'll start "

END

#twice imagines #twice smut #twice x reader #twice #kpop smut #minatozaki sana #sana smut #momo smut #momo x reader #twice sana #mina x reader #twice mina #mina smut

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missarchive · 2 days ago

Text

motel six

spencer reid

cw; spencer reid x fem!reader, spencer gets caught jacking off, cowgirl, multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, softdom!reader, sub!spencer, one bed troupe, oral (m. receiving), aftercare, unprotected p in v, spencer’s a little desperate and awkward (what’s new)

an; HIII ALLL!!! This is based on an ask I received earlier this month, but I have had a few similar ones so I finally made a fic for them. The truth is that I have been seeing a beautiful woman and she is taking up most of my time. BUT- I managed to sneak this one in. I will start posting more consistently again now that my writer’s block has finally disappeared. As always, please leave some feedback if you liked it (if you didn’t just know you’re stepping on my hopes and dreams). Love and miss u guys xoxo

wc; around 3k

Your stomach twists. A long day chasing leads and poring over case files has already left you drained, and now you have to share a room with someone? You glance around at your teammates, who are pairing off with little hesitation. Morgan claims a room with Rossi. Hotch and JJ take another. Emily and Garcia get the third. That leaves…

You turn your head just as Spencer Reid—resident genius, profiler extraordinaire, and your usual case partner—adjusts the strap of his bag with an unmistakable grimace. His hazel eyes dart to yours before flicking away, his jaw tightening.

Of course.

"Looks like it's you and me, Reid," you say, trying to keep your tone light.

He doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he nods stiffly and brushes past you toward the room number scribbled on the keycard sleeve. Your stomach sinks further, but you push down the unease and follow.

The room is as underwhelming as expected: beige walls, scratchy-looking blankets, and a single queen bed shoved against one side. A rickety wooden chair sits near the window, but otherwise, the space is cramped.

Spencer stops in the doorway, his whole body tensing. "You take the bed. I’ll sleep in the chair."

You frown. "Reid, that thing looks like it’ll collapse if you breathe on it too hard. We can just—"

"I said I’ll sleep in the chair," he snaps, dropping his go-bag by the door.

The sharpness in his voice catches you off guard. Spencer is always a little awkward, sometimes distant, but rarely outright rude. You watch as he rubs his temple, his jaw clenched so tightly you wonder if he might crack a tooth. He looks… angry. At you?

"Okay," you say slowly. "Did I do something?"

"No," he bites out. "Just drop it."

You exhale sharply, irritation flaring. "Spencer, we’re both exhausted. If something’s wrong, you can just—"

"Just leave it alone, Y/N."

His words are clipped, final. You stare at him for a moment, searching his face for an answer, but he won’t meet your gaze. The room suddenly feels suffocating.

Fine. If he wants to be an ass, let him.

"I’m going outside," you mutter, grabbing your jacket. "Maybe by the time I get back, you’ll have figured out how to use your words like an adult."

You don’t wait for a response before stepping out into the cool night air.

The motel parking lot is nearly empty, save for the team's vehicles and a couple of semi-trucks parked along the far end. You breathe in the crisp air, letting it wash away some of the frustration bubbling inside you.

Spencer’s behavior isn’t just annoying—it stings. You thought the two of you were friends. Sure, he can be awkward and distant, but he’s never been outright cruel before. Whatever is bothering him, he clearly doesn’t want to share it with you.

You wrap your arms around yourself, shivering as the cold seeps through your thin jacket. After a few minutes, your irritation starts to wane, replaced by exhaustion. You don’t have the energy to stay mad, and honestly, all you want is to collapse into bed and sleep for at least twelve hours.

With a sigh, you make your way back toward the room. The hallway is silent, the only sound your footsteps against the aging carpet. You reach for the door handle but freeze as a muffled noise seeps through the thin walls.

A low, breathy moan.

Your heart stutters.

You strain to listen, barely breathing as another quiet sound follows—one you recognize immediately.

A strangled gasp, unmistakably Spencer’s.

Heat rushes to your face as your brain supplies every possible explanation, each one more embarrassing than the last. You should walk away. You should turn around and pretend you never heard anything. But your hand stays frozen on the doorknob, your pulse hammering in your ears.

Another moan drifts through the door, this one louder. You swallow against the sudden lump in your throat.

"Fuck," Spencer gasps. "O-oh god— please."

His voice is low, rough. Desperate.

You grip the doorknob tighter, debating for what feels like an eternity. Should you walk away? Or—

You ease the door open, pressing your hand against it as if to stop yourself from charging forward. Spencer’s back is to you, his head thrown back as he works himself over, his hand moving in rapid strokes.

You can’t help it—you step further into the room, drinking in the sight of him.

He’s sprawled on the bed, shirtless and pale in the moonlight filtering through the blinds. His arm muscles are tense, sweat dripping down the side of his face. The blanket is thrown back, revealing his naked lower half: his long legs, his perfect hands—

His cock, thick and wet between his fingers.

You feel a rush of arousal at the sight, your blood pulsing hot. This is so wrong. So inappropriate. He’s your teammate, for god’s sake, and yet—

And yet, you can’t bring yourself to walk away.

Spencer's hips jerk upwards, his body shuddering with pleasure. "Y/N," he gasps again, his head falling back against the pillow. His eyelids flutter shut, his brows drawn together.

"Y/N, fuck, please—" His hand moves faster, stroking himself with a rough desperation that makes your breath hitch. You can’t look away as he thrusts against his grip, his hips writhing, his spine arched.

"Ah- fuck," he gasps, his body tensing, his fist tightening around himself. His mouth falls open, his eyes squeezing shut as he comes with a strangled moan.

You press your hand over your mouth, holding back a whimper of your own as you watch him.

Spencer sags against the mattress, his chest heaving. He's so fucking beautiful, and—

And you’re still standing here, watching him.

Your eyes dart to his face, and your stomach plummets as he turns his head.

He opens his eyes, and you meet his gaze across the room.

There’s a moment of stunned silence.

Then you both leap into action.

He scrambles upright, fumbling for the blanket to cover himself. You jump backward, tripping over the threshold and landing hard on your ass.

"Shit," you hiss, wincing at the pain that shoots up your tailbone. "Shit. I—fuck, I’m sorry. I should—"

"Y/N," Spencer says in a strangled voice. "I—I thought you were gone. I didn’t know you were—"

He trails off, looking anywhere but at you. You struggle to your feet, smoothing your clothes down self-consciously. This is awkward as hell.

"I thought you were asleep," you admit, wincing. "I didn’t mean to—"

Spencer draws his knees up, wrapping his arms around them. He looks so fucking embarrassed, and you can't blame him.

You should say something. Apologize. You should put him at ease—

But the sight of him still has your pulse hammering.

You clear your throat, trying to calm down your racing thoughts. "I’m sorry, Spencer. I really am. I don’t mean—this is just—"

He raises his head, his eyes searching your face. "What were you doing, standing there?" he asks softly.

You swallow against the lump in your throat. "I don’t know," you whisper. "It was wrong, what I did. I shouldn’t have—I shouldn’t have watched you. I’m sorry."

Spencer lowers his gaze, his face still flushed. "What if I wanted you to?" he mumbles.

Your heart jumps. "What?"

"I wanted you to watch me," he says louder, his eyes darting up to meet yours. "I’ve been wanting you to for weeks, ever since you asked me to take over the case files."

"What?" you repeat stupidly.

Spencer shifts, his cheeks flushing a deep red. "I started—I started thinking about you. Fantasizing about you. You touching me, kissing me— everything."

Oh.

You stare at him, trying to process. "Reid," you say softly. "I—"

"Don’t apologize," he says quickly. "It’s not your fault, I just—I wanted you. So fucking bad. I thought that sleeping next to you would be—"

"What?" you prompt gently.

He exhales sharply. "That it would be uncomfortable," he says in a rough whisper. "That it would drive me crazy. That maybe you’d—maybe you’d feel it too."

His gaze flicks up to yours again, full of hope.

Your heart races. "Is that what you want?" you ask, stepping forward.

Spencer's breath hitches, his fingers tightening around his knees. "Yes," he rasps. "Oh fuck, yes. If you—Y/N, I��ll do anything you want. Just—just don’t leave me alone again. Please."

His words send a surge of pleasure through your veins. The sight of him, desperate and pleading, is almost too much to bear.

"Spencer," you whisper, taking another step forward. "Come here."

He scrambles to his feet, rushing toward you. You meet him halfway, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him close. He melts against you, pressing his face into the curve of your neck with a sigh.

"I can’t believe you saw that," he murmurs into your skin.

"I can’t believe I did either," you admit with a chuckle. "But I’m glad I did."

Spencer raises his head, his hazel eyes searching yours. "You are?"

You nod, smiling softly. "Yes."

His face flushes. "Do—do you want to watch me again?"

You smile wider. "Maybe later," you tease. "Right now, I think it’s my turn."

Spencer's eyes widen as you press him backwards, onto the bed. "I thought you were tired," he murmurs, his voice already thickening with arousal.

"I am," you agree, smiling. "But this is more important." You drop your jacket onto the floor, pulling off your shirt and jeans in quick motions. Spencer's eyes dart down to take in the sight of your naked body, and you flush at his hungry gaze.

He groans, throwing his head back against the pillow as you climb on top of him.

It takes a lot to shock Spencer Reid. But you're definitely up for the challenge. The look on his face is priceless as you take his cock in your mouth, not wasting any more time. His hips buck against the mattress, his hands threading into your hair.

"Fuck," he gasps. "Oh my god. Y/N."

He tangles his fingers in your hair, urging you on as you work him over. He's so responsive, moaning and gasping and whining—fuck, it's a beautiful sound.

You work him deeper, taking

Spencer moans loudly as you take him deeper, his thighs trembling. "Y/N, oh fuck, I—fuck—"

You press one hand against his hip, holding him steady as you swirl your tongue over the underside of his cock. Spencer bucks against your grip, his fingers tightening in your hair. He's still so sensitive from his previous release, but he's still getting harder—thicker—by the second.

You run your tongue along the underside of his cock, teasing the spot behind the head.

"Oh fuck," Spencer gasps, his voice broken. "Y/N, please—please don’t stop. I’m going to— ah."

You press your other hand against his stomach, feeling the muscles contract. His whole body is straining upwards, his back arched and his eyes squeezed shut.

You take him all the way in, swallowing around his length as you work your lips over his shaft. Spencer comes with a cry, his hips jerking as he empties down your throat. You swallow every drop, holding his gaze as you slowly pull back.

"Touch," he rasps, his fingers searching for your own.

You swallow against the ache in your throat and smile up at him, lacing your fingers with his. "How are you feeling?" you ask, running your thumb over his hand, keeping your voice soft as to not disturb the air.

Spencer sighs, though not out of exhaustion, you assume he’s still taking everything in as you see his head rolling against the pillow. "It’s never felt like that before."

You grin. "Glad I could help."

He shifts, reaching for his discarded pants on the floor. "We should—we should clean up," he mumbles, his eyes darting to yours. He flushes when he sees your expression, and his face turns even redder as you realize what he’s doing.

"Reid," you laugh. "Are you really reaching for tissues right now?"

His ears turn bright red. "Well, what—what else am I supposed to do?"

You shift, straddling his hips as you lean down. "How about we do something else," you murmur. You kiss his jawline, working your way down his neck.

"Like what?" he asks in a breathy voice.

"Like this," you reply. You shift, taking his cock inside you. Spencer's breath hitches, and he groans at the feel of you surrounding him. You clasp his shoulders as you begin to move, his hands falling to your hips. He gasps with each thrust, his eyes falling shut as his head lolls back against the pillow.

"Y/N," he whimpers, his fingers digging into your skin. “I don’t know if I can-."

You ride him harder, sliding up and down his cock. “Yes you can, baby. I know you can give me one more,” Spencer's hips rock upwards to meet you, his breath coming in broken gasps.

His fingers tighten around your hips, holding you close as he thrusts upwards.

You’re both panting and gasping now as you chase the peak. You're so close. So fucking close.

"Please—" Spencer groans. "Y/N. I'm—fuck, I'm coming."

You feel him spasm inside you, his fingers tightening almost painfully around your hips. You groan, your movements slowing as you ride him through his orgasm. Spencer's eyes are closed, his mouth open as he gasps for air. His body trembles beneath you, and you feel a surge of satisfaction as you reach yours, too.

You slump forward, catching yourself on his shoulders as you press your forehead against his. He opens his eyes and smiles at you, a warm expression that makes your chest ache.

"Hi," he murmurs softly.

"Hi Spencer." You smile back.

You both lay there for a moment, enjoying the weight of each other’s bodies. Finally, you roll off him, stretching out next to him on the creaky motel bed.

You reach for him, pulling him into your arms as you smile. He nestles against you, his arm snaking around your waist as he presses his face against your chest.

You wrap your arm around him, whispering soft praise into his hair as you stroke his skin gently. He relaxes further, his body growing heavy with sleep.

The mattress is uncomfortable, the sheets too thin. But somehow, you feel more at ease than you have in weeks.

Spencer Reid is a brilliant man. But he’s also really fucking good at other things too. And you’re excited to find out what else he’s good at.

You smile to yourself, your chest warm with affection.

"Goodnight, Reid," you whisper into his hair.

He hums a soft reply, his breathing already slowing. You wrap your arm tighter around him, closing your eyes and letting yourself drift off into sleep. Tomorrow, the case will continue, and so will your job. But right now, you have Spencer in your arms.

And that’s more than enough. You smile again, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you as you drift off to sleep. This room might not be perfect. But it’s home for the moment, and that’s all you need. You drift off to sleep, lulled by the steady rhythm of Spencer's heartbeat against your chest.

#missarchive #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds x reader #bau x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x fem!reader #sub!spencer #sub!spencer reid

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hy6erion · 2 days ago

Note

Hi, Christine!!:)

can you pls write Viktor/jayce x small s/o with like small curves? like small breasts and ass etc.

I’m on my knees. PLEASE PLEASEEEE DO ITT😔🥹🙏🙏

𝐕𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫/ 𝐉𝐚𝐲𝐜𝐞 (𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲) 𝐱 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐝! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 ᰔ

𝐉𝐚𝐲𝐜𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬

𝐬𝐟𝐰

✰ Jayce is the kind of guy who doesn’t care much about body types—he’s all about personality and connection. But that doesn’t mean he won’t absolutely adore every part of you.

✰ Loves wrapping his arms around you from behind and resting his chin on your shoulder, pulling you into his broad chest. He likes how petite you feel against him.

✰ If you ever express insecurity about your body, he’s quick to shut that down. “Are you kidding? You’re perfect.” His hands will settle on your hips, and he’ll make you look at him. “You don’t need curves to be gorgeous, sweetheart.”

✰ Jayce is a sucker for practical fashion, so if you wear fitted shirts, crop tops, or high-waisted pants that show off your proportions, he thinks you look effortlessly good. He’ll definitely hype you up.

✰ If anyone even tries to make a rude comment about your body, Jayce will shut them down so fast. He’s that boyfriend who will make a whole speech about how beauty comes in all forms.

✰ Playfully calls you “tiny but mighty.” He knows firsthand that physical size has nothing to do with how powerful or brilliant someone can be (cough Viktor cough).

✰ Jayce is very into lifting you up randomly. He’s strong, and since you’re smaller, he takes advantage of it—throws you over his shoulder just to make you laugh. “Too easy. You weigh nothing.”

✰ When he hugs you, you completely disappear in his arms. He loves how snug you feel against him.

𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰

✰ Jayce is an ass guy, no question, but he doesn’t care about size. He’s obsessed with the shape of you, how your hips fit into his hands perfectly.

✰ He loves touching your chest. Even if you’re smaller, his hands still grope at you like you’re the most irresistible thing in the world. He’ll cup you, thumb over your nipples, and mutter, “Perfect handful.”

✰ Definitely the type to kiss down your torso slowly, savoring every little curve of your body. He’ll take his time appreciating all the details you might think are insignificant.

✰ “Doesn’t matter how big they are, they’re still sensitive, aren’t they?”—and then he’ll prove it with his tongue, teasing you until you’re squirming.

✰ If you ever try to cover yourself up during sex, Jayce won’t let you. He’ll pin your wrists down and murmur, “Nah, let me see you.”

✰ Loves when you ride him. Since you’re smaller, he loves putting his hands on your waist and lifting you up and down himself—all strength, little effort.

✰ If you wear lingerie, especially something sheer or lacy, he’s done for. He’ll just sit back and groan, pulling you onto his lap. “You trying to kill me, sweetheart?”

✰ Spanking? Oh, he still does it. Just because you don’t have the biggest ass doesn’t mean he won’t leave a red handprint on you. He loves making you feel how much he wants you.

✰ Growls into your skin when he’s deep inside you, holding you tight. Size kink unlocked—you feel so small beneath him, and it drives him crazy.

𝐕𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫

𝐬𝐟𝐰

✰ Viktor is completely indifferent to body type. His attraction is all about intelligence, wit, and emotional connection. Your size? Completely irrelevant to him.

✰ That being said, he adores how dainty you are. His fingers ghost over your arms, your collarbone, your waist—he memorizes you.

✰ He loves resting his head on your shoulder when he’s tired, mumbling in his accent, “You are very comfortable, you know that?”

✰ Since he struggles with mobility, he appreciates how light you are. It’s easier for him to pull you into his lap, have you sit beside him, or keep you close.

✰ If you ever mention feeling insecure, he raises a brow. “Who told you that you are anything less than beautiful?” His voice is so genuine that you immediately melt.

✰ Unlike Jayce, he doesn’t physically lift you, but he will pull you into his coat on cold nights, letting you tuck yourself against him.

✰ He’s obsessed with the way you curl up beside him. He traces patterns on your skin absentmindedly, always touching you in some way.

✰ If someone makes a rude comment about your body, Viktor won’t even look up—he’ll just say something so sharp and intelligent that the person leaves embarrassed. “I see ignorance is still thriving. How unfortunate.”

𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰

✰ Viktor is fascinated by every inch of you. He’ll trace your entire body with his hands, lips, tongue—his admiration is scientific and intimate.

✰ You can feel the reverence in his touch. He worships your body, slow and deliberate, taking his time. “It is perfect, because it is you.”

✰ He likes being between your thighs. Doesn’t care about the size—he just wants to be buried there, lazy tongue strokes making you beg.

✰ Viktor is teasing. He’ll roll your nipples between his fingers, murmuring, “Sensitive, hm? And you were worried about their size.”

✰ Unlike Jayce, he prefers taking control. He loves pressing you down into the sheets, keeping you under him, making you feel small but cherished.

✰ Eye contact. The entire time. He loves watching your reactions, seeing how your body responds to him.

✰ He loves soft whimpers. If you make any noise when he touches you, he smirks—low, amused, and a little possessive.

✰ Marks your body everywhere. Not just your neck—your collarbones, the inside of your thighs, places only he gets to see.

✰ “Do not compare yourself to others,” he murmurs against your skin. “This body is mine to admire.” And then he shows you exactly how much he means it.

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marauder-misprint · 1 day ago

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hi! can you do something with the marauders preferably sirius or james where the reader has constantly been like kind of invisible her whole life and spoken over and in the end has just stopped speaking up much ? thankyou <33 ( no pressure though! )

Hi! Thank you for this request ❤︎ Not sure how I feel about the quality of this. I definitely feel like it's not James enough, but it is what it is. Or maybe it's the lack of interactions with the rest of the Marauders that has me feeling like this? Idk. (It also might be because I'm not a huge James writer? Who knows?)

ANYWAYS! I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

Potions partner

James Potter x reader

4.6k words

cw: fluff, yapper!James

You’re not sure which is more peculiar: the story you’re telling or the fact that multiple people are listening to you tell it.

It had happened during Care of Magical Creatures class that morning. Professor Kettleburn was trying to settle an aggravated Thestral and was failing horribly to the point where he dismissed class urgently. You were one of the few students who could actually see the beast so your retelling of the event was more descriptive than the rest of the class’.

But what wasn’t peculiar was when a boy sat down a few seats away from you with complaints about the latest Transfiguration essay and all the attention that had been on you and your story moved on. Was the Thestral more interesting? Yes. But you were you, a background character in your own life. People didn’t pay attention to you if there was something else going on.

You sigh and turn your attention to the food on your plate. You’ve barely touched it since you were talking for once. Now that attention has left you like it always does, you’re able to eat. It had been nice to feel heard, even if just for a few minutes. You never did hold people’s attention for long. You were just something to fill the background, nothing special to see. And often you weren’t seen. There were too many times for you to count when someone brushes past you, accidentally knocking you to the ground and they barely give you “Sorry, didn’t see you there.”

In short, you weren’t seen and you weren’t heard.

It wasn’t just your classmates either. It seemed like once a week, a professor would scan the classroom as they marked who was in attendance and they’d ask if you were there. You always were. You’d raise your hand and wave it around. Sometimes, even with that, they’d miss you until your friend spoke up and said that, yes, you were, in fact, in class. You weren’t sure how the professors managed to skip over you so much, but they did. Maybe it was because you weren’t an extreme. Your grades weren’t horrible enough to be of concern, nor were they exceptional enough to be used as examples and to earn house points.

That afternoon in Potions, one of your least favorite things happened. Professor Slughorn announced a partnered-project.

“If everyone could get into pairs please! We will be working on brewing Felix Felicis and there will be various assignments with this. Pick someone you will be able to focus with. Yes, this means that Potter and Black cannot be partners.”

A pair of groans erupt from the back of the room.

“I got dibs on Moony,” Sirius says.

James groans again, scanning the room. Lily had picked Mary. Marlene and Peter didn’t continue with Potions in N.E.W.T. level. People got into pairs quickly. You had immediately turned toward Emmeline. She was usually kind to you, but she paired with Benjy Fenwick. Your options dwindled fast.

“Alright, anyone without a partner?” Slughorn asks the class as the room began to settle down.

You and James both raise your hands.

“Alright, you two are paired then. Here is the first assignment…”

You glance at James and cringe internally. Loud, boisterous James was your partner for the foreseeable future. Slughorn hadn’t given a timeframe for how long these assignments would be. You try to listen to everything that he’s saying about the first assignment, but it’s difficult when you’re dreading the assignment before it’s even really begun.

After class ends, you approach James.

“Erm, I’ll do the essay if you want to do the first part of the potion?” you offer, hugging your books tight to your chest.

“Huh? Oh, for the project. The essay’s long, don’t you want to work together on it?” James replies.

“I don’t-” you start to say.

Sirius interrupts you. “Mate, the girl’s just offered you the easy way out of the project. Take it and run.”

You press your lips into a thin line, nod and walk away. Sirius got it. You’d split the project into separate pieces as much as you could. Plus, did Mr. Popular really want to be seen with someone as quiet and invisible as you? You didn’t think so. As you made your way to your next class, you assumed that was the end of the conversation.

It wasn’t.

James finds you in the library after dinner. He’s slightly out of breath as he places his things on the table.

“You’re a hard one to find,” he says, taking a seat across from you.

You don’t say anything. In fact, you barely spare him a glance.

“I wanted to talk to you about the Potions project,” he continues as he takes out homework for a different class. “It’s a multiple part project. It’s very interconnected, not something we can split down the middle and work on separately.”

He stops talking and waits for you to respond. You still don’t look up. You just work on your Herbology assignment.

“You… you are my partner for Potions, right?” he asks, running a hand through already-messy hair. “That’d be embarrassing if I just sat down across from the wrong girl…”

“We’re partners,” you whisper, more to your parchment than James.

“Great. So I’m at the right table! Like I was saying, you can’t do the entire essay and have me do all the brewing. I mean, we can do that. Like you write and I actually brew, which is fine. But we have to meet up to work on it, you know? Can’t do one part without the other.”

“I prefer to work alone,” you say. “So take my offer or do it all by yourself.”

James’ eyes narrow.

“That’s not how partner projects work.”

You raise your eyes to meet his for the first time since he sat down. Pretty. You sigh and look back at your assignment. You have work to get done. You hope that James will get the message, accept your terms and leave you alone. Instead, he starts to work on an essay for Astronomy.

“Do you study at this table often?” he asks nonchalantly.

“Mhmm,” you hum.

Part of you wants to ask why he’s asking. What’s it to him that you work at that table practically like clockwork?

“This a daily thing or weekly? Every other day? Multiple times a day?”

“Whenever I have assignments,” you answer, although it's a very non-answer. When didn’t you have homework as a sixth year?

Every teacher assigned endless work to prepare you for the incoming exams. You were to be prepared and the way to prepare you was to assign work.

“So you’re here every second of every day, got it,” James says cheekily.

A quick glance at him reveals a smirk playing on his lips. Despite his quill hovering about parchment, he’s watching you, scanning your face for some kind of reaction. Something more than the quiet, short answers you’ve responded with so far. It’s a change of pace for James. Everyone wants to talk to him. He can talk with anyone about anything. It’s a gift that he and Sirius share. You, on the other hand, aren’t talking and it’s strange to James. Even Lily talks more when she’s shooting down his advances.

“Do you need help with that for Sprout?” James offers, confident that he can get you to talk more. “I finished it over lunch.”

You shake your head. James frowns, having been hoping for a verbal answer. He gives up trying to get you to talk for the evening, although he doesn’t leave your table. The two of you work in tandem for a few hours. James is far more uncomfortable with the silence between you than you are. It’s something you’re used to, and even if James had decided to ramble on about something, you would’ve managed to get the same amount of work done. James was used to noise around him, even in the library. With friends like his, quiet work time didn’t exist.

The next day James tries to say hi to you during the few classes that you share. You offer a small smile or a quiet ‘hello’ in response. You never stop and talk to him beyond that, which bothers him. You were partners for a project that would inevitably force you to spend some time together. Why didn’t you bother trying to get to know him at all?

“That’s your Potions partner, right?” Sirius asks as you walk away from them for the fourth time. “The one you got stuck with?”

“Yeah. Clearly doesn’t talk much,” James answers, watching you go and wordlessly sit down next to a Hufflepuff. He runs a hand through his hair absentmindedly.

“Maybe she just doesn’t know you? Or like you,” Peter says.

“What do you mean, Wormtail?” James asks.

“You’re not friends with everyone and some people don’t talk to people they don’t like.” Peter said it like it should’ve been common sense.

“But how can she not like me if she doesn’t know me? Won’t even try to know me? I sat with her for hours last night and I got maybe five sentences out of her!”

“You were in the library,” Remus snorts. “Some people respect the library’s quiet.”

“I know how to whisper!”

The other three boys burst into uncontrollable fits of laughter. James Potter whispering was more akin to a stage whisper. So, not a whisper. He was a loud person.

Then after dinner, James sits across from you in the library again.

“Same table. Easier to find,” he says as he takes out his homework.

Just like yesterday, you don’t respond. You don’t look up. You just continue working. James, however, is more intent on getting you to talk. He tries to think of something that might get your attention. It’s more difficult than he originally imagined. He didn’t know you. “What’s today’s assignment?”

“Care of Magical Creatures,” you say, voice barely qualifying as a whisper.

That got James’ attention more than it should have.

“Were you in class with the rampant Thestral? I heard it was crazy. Can’t imagine dealing with a creature you can’t see!” he asks.

“Professor Kettleburn provoked it. He pulled its wing. It looked overstretched,” you say with certainty.

Looked.

“Looked?”

You nod, flipping the page of the book you have open in front of you.

“You can see them? I thought you could only see them if-”

“If you’ve seen death,” you interrupt James.

He’s staring at you with wide eyes.

“You’ve seen death?” James asks.

He’s certain that he won’t get any work done. Not when you can see Thestrals.

You nod, again. Yesterday you were thrilled to have people’s attention as you recounted the beast mauling Kettleburn with its hooves. Today, you want to get your assignment done so you can return to your dorm. You aren’t sure why James is so curious about it, or why he keeps talking to you. No one ever sits at your table two days in a row.

After you don’t speak, James lets the conversation, if you can call it that, die. He figures that you don’t want to talk about who you’ve seen die. Maybe it was someone close to you. Maybe it was recent and hurt too much to talk about. He tries to focus on his work, but he was right in his assumption that he wouldn’t get work done. Even if you weren’t talking, James found you fascinating. His eyes keep drifting up to watch you work.

He breaks the silence after a while. “Can we work on that Potions essay tomorrow? I’m fine with brewing the potion, but we’ll work on the essay together.”

You sigh yet you nod all the same.

“Great!”

And with that, James leaves you alone.

The next day feels the same as the last. James says hi to you whenever he sees you, earning the same responses from you. There’s something nice about him taking the time to say hi to you when most of your classmates barely acknowledge your existence. Still, he’s only your partner in Potions and he didn’t choose to be your partner. It just happened because Slughorn said he couldn’t be with Sirius.

When James finds you in the library after dinner at your usual table, he’s lugging his cauldron with him. You stare as he sets it up next to the table, taking out a small collection of ingredients.

“Bit rough getting this past Madam Pince,” he tells you, seeing that he managed to catch your attention for once. “But I figured, if we’re working on the essay right now, might as well work on the potion too, right?”

You open your mouth as if to speak but nothing comes out. You gape like a fish out of water.

“You do have your Potions stuff with you, yeah?” he asks.

“Yeah… I do…”

You move your unfinished Care of Magical Creatures assignment off to the side. You’d work on it more after James left. Or at least, whenever he was done insisting on this ‘working together’ thing.

“Right, so Slughorn wants the first portion of Felix. And the essay is on the…” James says while looking over his scribbled notes.

“Essay is on the ingredients’ effect on the coloring. Pretty self-explanatory if you ask me,” you finish for him.

“How do you mean?”

You try not to laugh at James.

“Please, occamy and ashwinder eggs? Common rue? Shiny, shiny, yellow. It’s basic color theory.”

“Huh,” is all James says for a moment. Then he follows with, “That’s why you offered to do all the writing, isn’t it!”

“More like I thought you wouldn’t be bothered to work with me.”

James gasps, putting his hand over his heart like you brutally offended him. “Ouch, sweetheart!”

“Just get to brewing, Potter.”

And that’s the last that you spoke that evening. You worked intently on the essay as James brewed the potion. For some time, the sound between you was the crackling of the fire under James’ cauldron. But then he started talking. At first it was about the potion. He told you about everything he did and the immediate effects, every change of color and consistency. You didn’t need the commentary, although you used it to ensure that James was doing everything correctly. His descriptions matched what you had written.

Then he reached the point where the potion needed to simmer, James started talking about quidditch. You humor him for a while, listening to him ramble about what you easily assume is his favorite topic. He talked about more than just the Gryffindor team. He talked about the different tactics he’d seen the other houses use this year and how well they executed them, how they compared to the professional teams and how each of those teams were doing this year. Then he went on a tangent about the new rules and regulations that were passed recently and how they affected the game. He went on for a while.

“Do you want to read this or not?” you ask with some snap to your voice.

You slid the finished essay across the table toward James. You had written the entire thing as he brewed, only a testament to why you thought that partner part of the project was pointless. But if he wanted to ‘work together,’ you figure the least you could do was have him look over your work.

“Oh, yes! Let me see,” he mumbles as he takes the parchment from you.

You resume work on your Magical Creatures assignment. It takes James a few minutes to look over the whole thing. You had put a little extra effort into writing it since it was going to be James’ grade as well. It was one thing if your own work was subpar but when someone else got brought into the equation, you tried a little harder.

“This is great. You really did the whole thing while I brewed?”

You nod.

“You’re fantastic!” You feel a heat creep up your neck at the compliment. It was just an essay.

“Okay, so we have the potion and the essay for the first deadline! Great! I’ll clean up and get out of your hair. But I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” he asks, a wide smile on his face.

You nod again.

Over the next week, James continues to meet up with you in the library. He’s grateful that you never change tables. That at least means you don’t mind too much that he’s joining you. With each day, he tries to get you to talk. He tries topic after topic, hoping to come across one that you wouldn’t mind opening up a bit for. What James doesn’t know is that you’ve trained yourself to limit your responses. Even if someone asked about your deepest interest, you’d barely let on that you knew everything about it.

Then, just as you’re getting used to James constantly being at your table, he says something that throws you off.

“I won’t be here tomorrow.”

You want to respond with “Okay?” He wasn’t required to do homework for you after dinner every day. He wasn’t obligated to sit at your table. You still didn’t even really consider him your friend.

“We got the quidditch pitch reserved for a last minute practice before Saturday’s match,” he says, pausing to watch your face with curiosity. If there was a change in your expression, he’d see it. There was no change. “You’re coming to the match on Saturday, right?”

There was hope in his voice. Like he really wanted to make sure that you’d be in the stands for the game. Almost like he wanted to know if you’d be watching him, and just maybe, cheering for him.

You blink your eyes slowly.

“I… I’m not sure.”

“Oh?”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “Depends on how much work I get done, I guess.”

“Stay hard at work then, will you? I’d like you to be there. Heard it’s going to be a good match,” he says, his grin audible in his voice.

It makes you look up at him rather than at the parchment in front of you.

“Heard it’s going to be good?” you repeat back to him. “Wouldn’t you say that about every match you’re in?”

“I mean, yeah, but Saturday’s especially.”

“We’ll see, Potter.”

“You’ll only see if you go.”

You flex your eyebrows and turn back to your assignment. James smiles to himself as he begins to work again too. Something about your demeanor made him think that you would show up. He wasn’t really sure why he cared if you did, but there was something about you. He had grown to like the quiet air that you maintained. He didn’t mind that you didn’t talk much, despite his desperate attempts to get you to talk. You kind of reminded him of Remus during first year, if he was being honest. And that means that you had the promise of becoming a very dear friend.

You would be lying if you didn’t work extra hard the next evening while James was at practice. You didn’t promise anything but you felt that you owed it to James to at least try to be at a point where you could justify going to the match. You went to a handful of them. You could follow along enough with the game, not that it mattered. Balls were tossed around, some were hit and there was a super small one that only two players tried to catch. That’s about all you needed to know.

Still, you don’t know why you felt the need to show up for James. It wasn’t like he would be able to see you in the sea of students. It was one thing to find you in the library. It was another to spot you from a broom while you were surrounded by hundreds of others pressed together and bundled up against the biting wind. You even figured that you could just tell James that you went, without actually going, and he wouldn’t know the difference.

However, when morning came, you were bundling up. You join the masses heading to the pitch. You listen to the excited chatter about how epic the match is going to be. It was Gryffindor against Slytherin after all, which always made for a good match being the natural rivals that they were. You stood pressed between your friend and one of her closer friends. They cheer louder than you did. You were more focused on trying to keep up with the game as your mind continuously drifts to James. As your mind drifts, so do your eyes. You’re confident that you watched James for at least 90% of the match. Which shouldn’t be too shocking given the amount of times he was in the midst of the action. You swore he had his hands on the quaffle during every play.

And then something happened that made your heart stop.

You swore James’ eyes found yours and then he flashed you a smile. All before proceeding to score again. Almost as if he was doing it just for you.

Which was ridiculous. He was just your Potions partner who happened to be studying a lot with you as of recently.

But still. He found you, in the middle of the crowd, where you should have been as invisible as you always were.

How? How did he see you? It’s all you could think of for the last few minutes of the game. You were so in your own head that you missed the Gryffindor seeker catching the snitch, ending the game and sealing the win for them. You let your friend drag you out of the stands as students filled the pitch. Except you didn’t follow her into the pitch. You started down the path back towards the castle, but you didn’t make it far.

The sun was shining brightly and the air wasn’t too frigid once you were hundreds of feet into the air. You veer from the path and find a nice patch of grass to sit down on. Some sunshine wouldn’t hurt. An occasional shadow passed over your face as clouds drifted across the sky. Each shadow was only momentary, a brief chill until it moved on.

Until one shadow didn’t move on. You waited a minute before opening your eyes to see how big this cloud was.

The cloud in question? James Potter. James Potter still in his quidditch uniform and sporting a smile so bright it could rival the sun itself. And he was standing in front of you.

“Potter,” you say shortly.

“Didn’t see you on the pitch after the match,” he replies, sitting down across from you.

You don’t say anything. What was there to say?

“I was hoping to see you on the pitch. Maybe get a congratulations on the win?” he says with a tilt of his head.

“You played well.” That was as close to a congratulations as he was going to get from you.

“Did you see the goal I scored for you?”

You cough. “For me?”

“Well, yes. I swore I made eye contact with you before I did it.” He pauses thoughtfully. “Or did I look at a different pretty girl?”

You swallow thickly. “No, you, erm, that was me.”

“Ah, then yes. For you. My pretty Potions partner.”

If your heart had stopped in the stands, it must’ve turned into stone now. There was no way that James just called you his pretty Potions partner.

“That’s… ah… that’s alliteration,” you manage to say despite your mouth suddenly becoming drier than the desert.

James tilts his head curiously.

“I did want to thank you,” he says. “For coming to the match. I wasn’t sure if you were going to come. Because of homework, like you said. But I hoped you’d come.” He pauses for a moment. “Did you like it?”

“The-the match or you scoring… for me?” you ask, the end of your question feeling foreign in your mouth.

People didn’t score goals for you. That didn’t happen. You were barely noticed. You were spoken over. You were forgotten about because you offered so little to conversation and friendships.

“Erm, both, I suppose.”

“The match was entertaining. Definitely a step from Binn’s lectures.”

James laughs. It was a delightfully warm sound that draws the attention of students headed to the castle.

“You scoring… for… me…” you continue, the words still feeling odd to you, “was… nice, I guess. Unexpected though.”

James nods, accepting your commentary. He understands why it came across as unexpected. It wasn’t like he had flirted with you in the library. He hadn’t asked you to Hogsmeade or a picnic or even for a measly walk through the corridors together.

“I suppose I did this a bit backwards, haven’t I?” he chuckles.

“Did what?” you ask.

“The fact that you have to ask…” He shakes his head and runs a hand through his windswept hair. “I think I want to ask you out.”

Your eyes go wide and a blush tints your cheeks pink. Your heart has been shocked back to life and is working overtime.

“You think?” you ask once you’re able to say words.

“Okay, well, I do. I want to ask you out. I’m just not sure… if I should? Would you say yes if I did?”

You’re frozen in shock. He wants to ask you out. He grows increasingly nervous when you don’t respond.

“You don’t talk much and you seem to take your studies seriously. You remind me of Remus. You know Remus Lupin, right? Good, good friend of mine. And I think you’re rather pretty. So the combination of both, I want to see if we, you know, work together,” he says all too quickly. “And now I’ve gone and scored a goal for you, which I know most people usually save for after they’ve gone steady with someone or if they’re heavily chatting them up, but you don’t seem like the kind of person to appreciate a proper chatting up so…” He took a sharp breath. “Whatdoyousay?”

You continue to stare at James. It’s a lot. You’re not really sure when he started feeling all of this and you don’t know how to express that. You also don’t know how you managed to catch his eye.

“Can I, ahem, get a nod or something? You, me, butterbeers next weekend?”

You nod slowly and that brings a brilliant grin to James’ face.

“And I’ll see you in the library all week, yeah? Can’t be falling behind in our assignments, can we?”

“Yeah,” you breathe. “Same table.”

“And there’s a party in the Gryffindor Common Room later, if you want to go. I don’t know if that’s your scene or not, but I’ll be there. Wouldn’t mind seeing you there. But only if you’re up to it.”

You nod, but then realize that he might take that as you agreeing that you’ll go to the party.

“Maybe. I… I need to work on Astronomy but… I’ll consider it.”

His grin gets impossibly wider and he pushes his glasses further up his nose. Then he stands up and holds out a hand to help you up.

“Then let’s get you back to the castle. Can’t work on your Astronomy if you’re out here.”

You take his hand and let him lead you inside. Something about James inviting you places makes you actually want to show up, even if a Gryffindor quidditch party is completely out of your comfort zone.

#marauders #marauders fic #marauder-misprint #request #james potter #james potter x you #james potter fluff #james potter x reader #james potter fic

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