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reazreviewzone · 4 months ago
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ProductDyno Review - AI-Powered Membership & Licensing Platform & Create 1-Click Digital Product
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Welcome to my honest review and ProductDyno Review. Now it is easier to create and sell your digital products. Recently launched a brand new software ( Matt Garrett ) that makes sells and delivers digital products, you can create and sell digital products with jam-packed content like text, audio, video, and downloadable files with ProductDyno Review.
What is ProductDyno? ProductDyno is an AI-powered creates and sells digital products software that helps you Create and Sell Memberships, Video Courses, And Digital Products, jam-packed content like text, audio, video, and downloadable files with ProductDyno. Choose your digital product from the list, then create and edit the content of your choice, and then make the intuitive content design. You’ll be able to integrate your payment processor and create favorite marketing tools at the product level with just a few clicks. ProductDyno review has a user-friendly platform that makes it easy to create, sell, and manage all your digital products from one convenient place or dashboard. ProductDyno Review provides you with a massive opportunity.
Get access here>>
Overview – ProductDyno First, a customer optimizes the products quality or benefits the site. Who is the person who built the app? Discount price: why build the app? And who is the best choice for it? Everything. That is an ideal customers quality. Don`t worry; I covered the part for an ideal person. I think you are an idealistic reader.
Author/vendor – Matt Garrett Product –ProductDyno Launce date – 6/03/25 Create Digital Product - highly recommended Official website – VISITE HERE Front-end price - $47 Business – ok Hosting Domain – Highly recommended Instantly Create Text Into High-Quality 4k HD Video Create Instantly Book – High recommended Watch/ Create Video – Any Language Social Media Marketing – Number One passive income – ok Recurring System – OK Payment – ONE Time Local Business – High Recommend Money-Back – 30 Days Money-Back Guarantee Funnel/Tool – Automated & Done-For-You Support – Effective Niche – Any Niche of your choice
How Does ProductDyno Work?
Every app works with a few simple steps like the ProductDyno review works on 3 simple steps.
Step 1. Sing up: Every app follows the role. This is an easy step to create an account.
Step 2. Collection Your Product: Then choose your digital products with 1000 free themes.
Step 3. Customize Design & Promote: Easily customize & promote your products easily and instantly viral worldwide.
Awesome Key Features Of ProdutDyno?
Software indeed depends on some valuable features. The software will be attractive because of its features. Besides, how to work the software features smoothly or effectively in the future. Firstly, a customer consideration before purchasing this app. Therefore, an agency builds any software`s features discerningly for a client. After pricing, an agency wants honesty and satisfaction from its customers. It has responsibilities or accountability to a customer. The software boosts your earnings 10x with its awesome and interesting features, I can say obviously. I described the software beautifully below.
-Software/SAAS module: The ProducDyno review provides a software/SAAS opportunity.
-Custom Link To Product: Easily customize any link to a product and promote it.
Labeling/Branding: A member can easily promote and brand their products.
-SSL Certificates: The ProductDyno Review gives you a commercial SSL license or certificates:
Unlimited File Upload: Upload unlimited files like text, video, and PLR.
Import Members Via CSV: You can join your circle member on this site.
Connect Your Storage: Connect your storage with AI-powered tools.
Included Current Standard Themes: They provide all done-for-you themes for their members.
-Zero Monthly Cost: One-time get access and auto-updates all features.
-Reporting and Analytics Dashboard: ProductDyno review built advanced quality reporting optimized dashboard.
Why Should Use The ProductDyno?
ProductDyno Review always helps & supports you create external content and hosted on other platforms. We can customize your digital products with different themes, colors, fonts, and even language translations with ProductDyno.
1 Delivery Content: The agency helps us Create And Sell Memberships, Video Courses, And Digital Products.
2 Sell Membership: Might get more profit selling your AI Membership.
3 Coding & Plugins System: We can easily customize your digital products with different themes, colors, fonts, and even language translations.
4 Design and Customize: ProductDyno provides all features including colors, fonts, and themes with the content designer.
5 Bundle Collection: ProductDyno is packed with 50+ native integrations & connects all your favorite tools for payments, emails, webinars, and file hosting.
6 All In One: We get in one platform like create videos, and courses, customize design, free themes.
7 Auto Updates: The agency provides auto updates without any fees.
8 Money-Back Guarantee: They give a 30-day money-back guarantee.
Why Is ProductDyno High Recommended?
Proven Results: Users report significant improvements in content quality, engagement, and ROI
AI-powered Smart Editor & Rewriter – Polish, rewrite, and enhance content with ProductDyno Live optimization.
One-Time Payment: No recurring fees or hidden costs.
Automate Repetitive Tasks: Set up workflows to automate tasks like email campaigns and social media posting.
Import Members Via CSV: You can join your circle members on this site.
Design and Customize: ProductDyno provides all features including colors, fonts, and themes with the content designer.
Coding & Plugins System: We can easily customize your digital products with different themes, colors, fonts, and even language translations.
Custom Link To Product: Easily customize any link to a product and promote it.
SSL Certificates: The ProductDyno Review gives you a commercial SSL license or certificates:
Why Choose ProductDyno?
Real-Time AI Web Access – Unlike most AI platforms, Workforce AI searches the live web for real-time data.
24/7 Support: Get assistance whenever you need it with round-the-clock customer support.
Multi Funnel: Promote affiliate links and products with video and text
Free Bonus: The agency gives their customer a lot of free bonus.
Custom: A member can custom CSS or third-party widgets
Free Template: The agency gives free templates to its members.
Free Commercial License - ProductDyno A free commercial license allows individuals or businesses to use, modify, and distribute software, content, or products without paying licensing fees, even for commercial purposes. Unlike personal-use-only licenses, it permits monetization, such as selling the product or incorporating it into commercial projects. Popular examples include open-source software under MIT or Apache 2.0 licenses. However, users must comply with specific terms, such as attributing the original creator or sharing modifications under the same license. Free commercial licenses foster innovation, collaboration, and accessibility, making them valuable for startups, developers, and creators seeking cost-effective solutions. Always review the license terms to ensure compliance and understand any restrictions.
Who Is ProductDyno Best For?
Affiliate Marketer: Easily promote digital products with AI tools.
List Builders: Generate a list and customize the template.
Email Marketer: Design a template for an email to a unique quality
Publisher: The ready-made template helps grow the business.
E-Come Sore Owner: Create high-quality products using their tools.
Agency: Built trust in any client of your agency.
Resale: Work with the owner of the app as a product resaler.
Money-Back Guarantee A 30-day money-back guarantee is a customer-friendly policy that allows buyers to request a full refund within 30 days of purchase if they are unsatisfied with a product or service. This policy builds trust and confidence, encouraging potential customers to purchase with minimal risk. It demonstrates the seller's commitment to quality and customer satisfaction. To claim a refund, customers typically need to return the product in its original condition or cancel the service within the specified period. This guarantee is commonly used in industries like software, e-commerce, and subscription services. While it can increase sales, businesses must ensure clear terms to prevent abuse. Overall, it’s a win-win, offering customers peace of mind and businesses a competitive edge.
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Pros & Cons – ProductDyno The part! Any app has some pros & cons. But such an app hasnt cons or bad sites. Accordingly, I covered the part that information an agency delivered to me. I hope you dont waste your quality time reading useless articles. I tried to write a more informative or helpful article for the reader. Now, I want to start with the pros and cons of the software.
Pros: ProductDyno Review -Generate Video Course -Affiliate link -Customize theme design -Optimize tools -Free Bonus -30-day money-back guarantee -Features auto-update -List Building -Promote any product -Create agency -Local business
Cons: ProductDyno Review -Limited time offer -Internet connection -Your idea -Use opportunity
Conclusion – ProductDyno In conclusion, ProductDyno review is a must-have tool for anyone looking to streamline their workflows, create high-quality content, and grow their business. With its Exclusive Bundle Deal, you can unlock the full potential of this powerful platform at an unbeatable price. Don’t wait—get ProductDyno today and start transforming your digital marketing efforts!
OTO & Pricing – ProductDyno
Front-End Price Starter Plan ($49)
. Import members via CSV . Link custom domains to products or collections .Software/SAAS licensing module .mport members via CSV .White labeling/branding removal .Complimentary SSL certificates
OTO1: VIP Platinum Upgrade ($967)
.Each DFY White Label Membership includes: .Hosting, Customization & Integrations .Monetization & Licensing .Student, Customer & Member Management .Personalized Certifications .Progress Tracking & Member Engagement Tools .Drip Content & Schedule Releases .Sell Digital Products .Create Checkout Pages .Create Landing Pages
OTO2: DFY Addon Bundle ($499)
.High-Ticket Course Creation .Affiliate Marketing & Sales Funnels .Email Marketing & List Building .Includes TWO Premium Add-Ons! .Downsell 1: Pro Plus+ Plan .ALL Features from Your Starter Plan, PLUS .These DFY memberships cover: .How They Are Distributed:
OTO3: AI Creator Suite Free Trial -$99/year
.AICS Now Covers Sub-Accounts – Works across all sub-accounts (NEW) .Marketing Automation – AI-powered sales video scripts, social media content, and content calendars .Sales Page & Email Writing – AI-powered content & promotions .Instant Course Creation – Push-button course generation
OTO 4 - VIP Platinum $997
.Each DFY White Label Membership includes: .Exclusive VIP Platinum BONUSES ($7,000+ Value!) .Hosting, Customization & Integrations .Monetization & Licensing .Advanced Marketing & Engagement Tools .Full Learning Management System (LMS) .ProductDyno VIP Platinum – The Ultimate Digital Product & Membership Platform .One-Time Payment for Lifetime Access
OTO 5 - DFY ADD ON BUNDLE:($499
.VIP Platinum members will receive 3 white-label memberships included. .These DFY memberships cover: .How They Are Distributed:
OTO 6 - AI Creator Suite Free Trial -$99/year
.Marketing Automation – AI-powered sales video scripts, social media content, and content calendars .Sales Page & Email Writing – AI-powered content & promotions .nstant Course Creation – Push-button course generation rent-
Free Bonus – ProductDyno There is a customer who gets a free valuable bonus from the agency. An agency wants to convenience their client, or they want to hold customers. Where do you get the free valuable bonus? But the agency gifts you a valuable bonus of a thousand dollars. The last word is that a customer can boost her earnings 10x with the app. Let`s see, what is the valuable bonus from the company.
1 Bonus - Membership Mavericks Course ($499+ Value) Get the Bonus and Membership Mavericks, you'll unlock the exact methods used by the most successful membership site. If you want to generate consistent, predictable income, this course is your roadmap instantly.
2 Bonus - Rapid Digital Products Course ($499+ Value) If you want selling digital products is one of the fastest ways to build an online business—but if you know what works. This course helps you through the entire process, from idea to execution, so you can churn out high-demand digital products in a few seconds.
3 Bonus - Digital Publishing Mastery Course ($499+ Value) This exclusive training reveals the same strategies that have helped PromoteLabs generate over $10M in digital product sales worldwide or in your selected place. You’ll discover how to launch, market, create video, design, use ready theme, and scale your digital products with high-converting funnels, automation strategies, and advanced audience growth techniques & more.
Frequently Asked Questions (FAQ) Thousand of questions in a customer's mind. The app be good or bad? Have they a money-back guarantee? Have a bonus? Etc. I cleared your dude of mind. Particularly, a new customer has dude too much. Because they are a smart person of the current generation, generally, they don`t want to waste their valuable time. Ok, no problem, I clear dude questions of your mind. I covered some important questions that help customers buy the app or take the service. IS THERE A MONEY-BACK GUARANTEE? Yes, we offer a money-back guarantee. If you are not satisfied with the app within [specific time frame, e.g., 30 days], you can request a full refund. Please refer to our refund policy for more details.
WHY DO I INVEST IN THE APP? Investing in the app provides you with a powerful tool to [state the purpose of the app, e.g., streamline your business, improve productivity, or enhance user engagement]. It is designed to save you time, reduce costs, and deliver a high return on investment through its innovative features and user-friendly interface.
DO I NEED ANY TECH SKILLS? No, you don’t need any technical skills to use the app. It is designed to be intuitive and easy to navigate, making it accessible for users of all experience levels. However, if you have any questions, our support team is always available to assist you.
DO YOU PROVIDE ANY SUPPORT? Yes, we provide comprehensive support to ensure you have the best experience with the app. Our support team is available [state availability, e.g., 24/7 or during business hours] via [support channels, e.g., email, live chat, or phone]. Additionally, we offer a detailed knowledge base and tutorials to help you get started.
WILL YOU AUTO-UPDATE THE APP FEATURES? Yes, the app will automatically update to ensure you always have access to the latest features, security patches, and improvements. You don’t need to worry about manually updating the app—we handle everything for you to provide a seamless experience.
Affiliate disclaimer Thank you for reading my honest review. My honest opinion is shared in the review. An affiliate disclaimer is a statement to inform audiences that a company or individual may earn a commission or other compensation if they purchase products or services through links on their website, blog, social media, or other platforms. This disclaimer is essential for maintaining transparency and complying with legal requirements, such as those set by the Federal Trade Commission (FTC) in the United States. It ensures readers or viewers know of any potential bias or financial incentive behind recommendations. Typically, the disclaimer is placed prominently, either at the beginning or end of content and clearly states the nature of the affiliate relationship. For example, "This post may contain affiliate links, meaning I earn a commission if you purchase through my links at no extra cost." This builds trust with the audience while protecting the content creator from legal issues.
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phonification · 8 months ago
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i thought about spades slick again and i fell to the ground clutching my knees in tears
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imrllytootiredforthis · 6 months ago
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lowk considering writing for squid games
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tonycries · 11 months ago
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SOOO ANXIOUS
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Synopsis. When he’s a 10 but the pulI-out game is non-existent.
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, creampíes, breéding, breaking the condóm, overstím, Gojo’s powers going haywire, spítting, cúmplay, NÉEDY BOYS, marathon séx, chokíng, SLIGHT dàddy kínk (Nanami’s), jealousy (Sukuna), first times (Choso), limitless, exhíbitionísm (Sukuna), true form! Sukuna, dp, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 5.9k (wild omg)
A/N. Ty to that one anon for reminding me of Gojo and his limitless, I just had to. Hope y’all have a lovely day <3
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♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - When life gives you…
Dammit, Toji knew he should’ve looked over your shopping list closer. He knew he should’ve spent just a little longer at the convenience store searching for that special brand the two of you always used - the only one that could fit his massive size - instead of rushing home like a madman to fuck you sloppily into your silken sheets.
He knew. 
But, well, feeling that thin excuse of rubber that was once coating his achy cock snap open - crashing his raw, leaky tip right against the bottom of your syrupy pussy, bruising - he certainly didn’t have any regrets either. 
“Whoops.” you hear Toji’s ragged, unapologetic huff against your ear. Lips quirking up into a smirk when you’re looking up at him in question with those cockdrunk eyes of yours. “Broke the condom again.” he explains. 
And as if to confirm, he’s sliding a calloused palm right down to the bulging area of your slit, sliding his eager fingers along the edge of that glossy piece of tattered rubber, “Now what do you suppose we do about that, ma?”
What?
And it’s all you can do to whirl your glassy gaze down at where he was already admiring. The sinful sight of your ravaged pussy winking lewdly up at you - puffy lips spread to bulge about his angry, red cock. Beading a sheen of your sweet sweet juices down his length, being swallowed up greedily. His raw length. 
���Toji–” you hiss, digging the balls of your heels at those dimples down the bottom of his spine, making him hiss in delight. “You bought the wrong ngh- brand of condoms? Again? This is the fifth time this week.”
And oh he found it so cute when you’re mad at him like this, pretending like your absolute slut of a cunt didn’t just get wetter at the feeling of his cock throbbing against your walls. Milking him so good that he can’t help but let his addicted hips move in lingering thrusts, jamming into your g-spot over and over like a little apology. 
He’s humming, “Accident- ouch!” 
The thick head of his cock pulses even deeper inside you when you give his muscled pecs a bratty smack. “Fine fine- I may have uh- rushed jus’ a bit.” As if to wipe away that tiny bit of guilt in his words, Toji’s hips are thrashing harder into you, merciless. “But heyyyy—” he leans down to drag his lips against your own in a messy kiss. “Y’know what they say, when ngh- l-life gives you the wrong pack of condoms, give her a creampie.”
You narrow your eyes, “Y-you’re such a-”
But within a millisecond, he’s dragging his swollen cock out of your snug cunt - barely, just enough to pull off those flimsy dredges of whatever was left of his condom after those bullying thrusts he’d been planting on your poor pussy. 
“I’m jus’ being resourceful, woman” Toji chokes out when you bite down on his collarbone at the audacity. Before plowing on, words dripping with faux-apology, “Ahhh what to do, such a shame I forgot to get the r-right condoms. Whatever shall we do, ma?”
Before diving straight back into your heavenly entrance, purposefully taking his time to rub against every hidden nook and cranny of your walls. Toji throws his head back, defined abs bowing into you, “I know. How about this time insteada pulling out, you finally let me cum inside?”
And you knew Toji had such a mean cock, and fucked you even meaner. But fuck this was ridiculous. 
“Ngh- T-Toji!” you’re keening with every heavy smack of his balls against your stinging ass, being rocked further and further up the drenched mattress with the force of his sharp jabs. “You’re lucky you feel too ngh- good this way.”
“Heh, see? What did I tell ya? Now fuckin’ come-” Thick fingers wrap around your hips, pulling your back down, down, down - deep to spearhead his cock into your sweet spots. “-here-” Rendering you unable to escape, unable to do anything but be splayed out like such a slut while he’s molding your cunt to the shape of his length. Frenzied. Crazed. The complete opposite of the smugly gentle kisses he presses to your teary cheeks, “-and take my actual cock like a good girl, doll. Lemme make you a mama.”
The thought has you letting out such pitiful whimpers, thighs quivering. “Hah- m’gonna cum. M’so close, Toji-”
Gripping him so tight you could feel the outline of his prominent veins, the sensitive spots along his shaft. Toji’s brows furrow in concentration, letting out a sultry drawl of words, “Yeah? Is this pretty pussy gonna cum?” He reaches down to toy a long index around your neglected clit, sending your eyes rolling back with a moan. “Gonna be stuffed full of my seed like she’s supposed to?”
You can only get out a few bleary nods, and usually Toji would tease you a little more - have you begging and crying. But right now he’s so fucked. 
The feeling of your squeezing walls too tight, the crashing of his sensitive tip against your spongy g-spot too much that the only thing he can grit out is a low, “Then cum- cum f’me, doll.”
 He feels it before you realize you’re cumming, just running on wave upon wave of pure electricity running down your spine while Toji ruts into you so animalistically. Reeling back only for a few sloppy, solid half-thrusts - because you couldn’t bear to separate too much from your cunt - before spilling into you.
And - oh, he was only mad he didn’t do this sooner.
“Oh this is the stuff- fuuuuck this- is- what I needed- take it.” Thick rope upon rope of his hot cum, decorating your saturated walls. So much that it was gushing out of you with each pump of Toji’s hips fucking it deeper inside you - the thought of pulling out not even daring to cross his mind. Oozing. Messy. “Take it all. Make me a daddy again, why don’t ya.”
After all, he did pick the wrong brand for a reason, right?
♡ NANAMI KENTO - Family matters!
The office can be loud - given, it’s hours past everyone’s shift and you and Nanami were the only ones cooped up in his office working overtime right now. 
But still, the office can be loud - which is why Nanami Kento isn’t exactly sure he hears you correctly the first time. Not until you keep looking at him with that sultry, determined graze, spit-glossed lips moving to repeat, “I want a baby, Ken.”
It only takes three seconds for him to lock the door and shove you against the cool mahogany of his desk, bunching up that cute pencil skirt of yours at the waist. Which, Nanami thinks, unbuckling his expensive pants to swipe his angry tip between your slobbering slit, is three seconds too late in his opinion.
“You really wan’ me to disrespect your cute cunt this way, my pretty lil’ wife?” he’s purring into your ear, just a soft reassurance before he absolutely fucking ruins you. “Because m’not going hah- easy on you this time.”
And maybe you’re a genius, maybe you’re an idiot who doesn’t know what’s good for her - because you flash him a grin, “So are ya gonna fuck me or not?”
Soon enough, that grin was turning into your jaw sagging open lewdly, drool trickling down the corner of your lips with every bullying squeeze of Nanami’s massive cock inside you. Stretching out every inch of your gummy walls around his swollen girth. 
“Oh God—” you’re moaning, eyes rolling to the back of your head with each harsh ram. Wiggling hips mindlessly torn between running away and fucking yourself back onto your husband’s bludgeoning cock for more. 
He’s shutting you up with a gentle suck on your candied lips, humming into the kiss, “Jus’ ‘Ken’ works fine, my love.”
And it takes you a few seconds to register his remark - a few, dizzying seconds of being spearheaded by Nanami’s fat tip. Roaming, heavy balls smacking the fat of your ass when he angles his hips just right to ruthlessly kiss against that one sweet spot he knows you love so much. Swirling his furious tip around to find-
“Oh fuck!”
There.
Merciless. Nanami Kento is absolutely merciless. 
And all you can do is scramble your jittery fingers towards his desk, his forgotten work documents, him - your body is moving before your heated mind when you reach behind to drag Nanami in closer by his yellow, speckled tie. 
All the way until his plump lips were mere millimeters away from yours, “I actually think ‘daddy’ would work better, no?”
Oh. Oh, fuck.
He was completely and utterly fucked. 
It takes the both of you by surprise when a large hand comes up to your neck, thick fingers squeezing hard around your pretty throat. The cold metal of Nanami’s wedding ring burning into your skin when he shuts up those filthy words of yours. 
“Ken-”
“Shut up. Sh-shut up, darling I’m- fuck I’m-” is all Nanami’s able to stutter out before his hips grow sloppy. And you could feel the way his twitching cock massaged at your plushy walls, the wet sounds of skin-and-skin becoming more and more languid before-
Nanami doesn’t think he’s ever cum this embarrassingly fast in his life. Never did it only take him a few more mean, calculated thrusts into your heavenly cunt until he’s spurting thick wisps of his seed. Coating your poor pussy in a sheen of his cum - of him. 
He whimpers, bending his long legs at the knees to grind up deeper into your, feeling the warm slosh of his own seed inside. 
“Fuck Ken–” you wheeze, throat raw from the unforgiving hand still around it. Vision spotty and you feel like floating - or maybe that’s just the way Nanami had you lifting off the ground with each relentless ram. “Gonna be the ngh- fuckin’ death of me.”
“Hah, you’re gonna be the hngh- death of me.” he groans, free hand coming up to slide his glasses further up his nose. Shit, if Nanami angled his head just right he could see that sinful, sinful trail of cum down your legs. Glistening under the dim office lighting, forming a little pool right at that crevice between your thigh. “Yeah oh fuck- m’not getting out of this alive. Not with you, darling.”
And oh you should’ve known. Should’ve had an inkling at the way Nanami was still achingly rock-hard between your legs. At the way he innocently grazes a thumb across your sloppy hole, pooling the heady mix of cum and slick on the pads of his fingers - before shoving them right back in. Skirting around that depraved shaft of his to squeeze whatever dredges of seed he could get his hands on back inside you.
It was making such a mess - with each bullying pump of Nanami’s fingers at your dripping cunt, cum was gushing out of your wrecked hole. Slow, and torturous. 
Exactly the way he was moving back inside of you now, reeling his toned hips back to smash right into your sweet spots. Dragging that orgasm out of you - out of him, “Gotta make sure it takes, right?”
Suddenly, you have the feeling that it’s going to be a long, long night working overtime.
♡ GETO SUGURU - The egoist
“C’mon, gorgeous.” that low, satiny purr has your cunt quivering traitorously. “You’re really gonna hold out on me like this?”
It takes every bit of willpower in you to tear your eyes from the absolutely sinful sight below you - because Geto Suguru was so unfairly pretty - even with his wrists tied helplessly below you to the bedposts. So delicately flushed a cute pink from his high cheekbones, right down to his thick, sobbing tip. Looking up at you through half-lidded, glassy eyes, peeking from under his long hair. 
Hair you thread through to gather in a harsh grip, “Mhm, Sugu, if you’re gonna be so cocky when m’letting you cum inside me then I jus’ hafta- ngh!”
Your foolish little threat is dying in your chest when your beloved boyfriend is wrenching his hips up. Having you teetering precariously, clinging onto his sculpted abs when he uses them to fuck his cock up into you slobbering cunt. 
“Hah!” his dark eyes widen in delight at the sight of how readily your slutty cunt was making way for him. Puffy folds being split apart to swallow every fucking inch he gives. “Just look at what a filthy lil’ cunt you have, my girl. So needy despite all your talk.”
“Th-that’s cheating.” you tug on his soft silky restraints. Eyeing the way they were firmly digging into his milky skin. “Maybe I ah- won’t- let you-”
Another ragged jut of his hips, the thick curve of Geto’s swollen cock spearing into you, pulsing against your sensitive spots until you couldn’t think. He’s gasping, “No!” Letting out such a pained grunt when your spongy walls cling onto him like a second skin. “No no no no- jus’ fuck m’gonna have you begging for my cum.”
And if Geto had his hands untied you just knew he’d be gifting your sobbing cunt a punishing smack! So that’s exactly what you do - letting out such a teasing whine of his name when you slap the pads of your fingers down across your sopping slit. Stopping right below your clit - exactly the way he does.
“Still real cocky, aren’t you?” you purr, so sultry and low, sending a fresh wave of precum painting at your bruised cervix. 
“Fuuuck- you little minx. This won’t- ngh-” he hisses. “You’re gonna fuckin’ regret holdin’ out on me.”
There it was again - that little accusation. The same little mantra that’d been falling from Geto’s glossed-over lips ever since you tied his wrists together and straddled him after a few too many goading comments on how you won’t be able to “handle him” if he came inside.
Scoffing, “Yeah yeah that’s what a sore loser-”
Fuck, it seems he’s well and fully intent to not have you run your pretty mouth. 
Pushing past your feeble little ring of resistance to draw at your honeyed walls. Running his angry tip along each and every sweet spot he’d so meticulously mapped out before.
“I warned you, gorgeous.” His breaths are wrenching out so strained, low groans leaving him with how your plushy walls were trying to suck out something delicious. “Warned you it was- ngh was gonna be too much. And now look at you.” He’s chuckling, so utterly unapologetic. “Fucked dumb and taking my cock like the slut you are. How’d you feel about that, huh?”
It’s so embarrassing. 
Embarrassing how good you were feeling, stars behind your eyes every time Geto is smashing deep into your core. Embarrassing how you can barely even hold yourself up at this point, instead collapsing right into the valley between Geto’s pecs, lips drooling with need. 
Embarrassing how you can’t even answer his question.
And this is what makes him smile - full and content. Craning his head down to kiss softly at your slack lips, “That’s what I thought. Now beg for it, beg for my cum.”
“Wh-what?” you snap your eyes open. Moaning lowly at the drag and pull of his fat shaft, stretching out your narrow channel with each ram of his hips. Angling your boneless body just right for those tufts of black at his toned base to rub against your clit so obscenely. 
“You hear me. Or you can’t hear as well as- ngh- speak now, huh? Beg for it.”
“No.”
Geto falters his hips slowly at this, “Beg for it.”
“No.”
Of course, this only makes him stop completely. Rolling his eyes in such a languid way at your clear disappointment, “Then fuck me yourself if you wanna be so mouthy.”
The result is - for Geto - the hottest fucking thing he’s ever seen. With you whining, tears springing to your eyes as you try to ride him as best you could. Yearning, craving for those bullying thrusts he’d been planting on your sweet spots. Ass jiggling when it smacks against his pelvis lazily, hips stuttering up and down his veiny cock, weeping your needy juices as you sob, “No- please I take t- ngh- back. I want your cum, Sugu. Please?”
“That’s more like it.”
And no sooner are the words out of your lips before Geto’s thrusting up into you haphazardly. Brows furrowed, abs screaming with the strain of just how hard he was pounding you. Again. And again - more to teach you a lesson, more to drive the two of you insane. Again and again and-
It only takes a few more of those lingering, ruthless kisses of Geto’s leaky tip against your g-spot for the two of you to be cumming. 
Your gummy walls convulsing, sucking up every wet glob of cum shot against them, against your womb. Geto’s full, heavy balls filling you up in mere seconds with how much he was painting your poor cunt white. Dripping down the side of your pussy lips, creating such a mess all over his base that he just can’t help but-
RIP!
Your back is hitting the mattress before you know it, Geto’s large figure looming over you- how? When did he-
“Ya really thought those would stop me from-” he takes the time to spread open your trembling legs, spying down at the mess of cum leaking out of your gaping hole now. Thick, gushing dredges of him - all him. He’s shuffling down, hot breath hitting your abused cunt, “-having my favorite meal?”
♡ CHOSO KAMO - Made for this.
Slam!
You’re both jolting - you at the deafening sound of your best friend’s hand slamming down on the headboard, making it creak at the sheer power. Him at those sultry little words that had just left your glossy lips, sending all the blood in his body right down to where he was buried between your shaky legs. 
Before you can react, Choso’s looming his face closer - eyes wide, jaw sagging open, voice just a whisper when he asks, “What did you say?”
And through it all, it’s a wonder you’re managing to catch your breath. Because Choso’s unforgiving cadence was barely letting up, pushing in long, solid strides of his hips to drag his fat cock against the plush of your gummy walls. “I-I said since it’s your first time n’ I wanna make this special, you should-” Looking him right in his pussydrunk eyes when you say, “-cum in me, Cho.”
Just like before, that honeyed request pulls out such a visceral reaction from him. His dewy eyes scrunch shut, thick tip kissing so deep inside your womb when he twitches animalistically. Sliding across to mark you from the inside out. 
And somewhere in your fucked-out mind, you register the snap! of wood breaking above you, Choso’s biceps flexing with movement. “Fuuuck, baby, you can’t hah- s-spring that on me like that.”
It was true - a few too many bad sex scenes on movie night, and a few too little lingering touches left you wanting more. Wanting to steal away your cute best friend’s virginity once and for all, and then some.
“Why not?” you bat your lashes so deceivingly innocently up at him. Making his poor jaw drop even further, hips stuttering forwards sloppily. “No no no no, Cho. You’re my best friend and you deserve the best.” you’re tutting, tightening your legs around his sculpted waist. Preventing any escape - as if he could ever want to run away from this heaven. “I need you to cum in me.”
It happens too fast for you to even register - before you know it, two large hands of Choso’s are hoisting your limp legs up onto his toned shoulder. Upper half bending down, down, down until he had you folded in half in such a mean mating press. 
“F-fuck don’t-” he gasps out, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the lewd change in angle. The curving divot of his head brushing up against that hot g-spot of yours, raw with so many hits. Greedy eyes locked on the way your puffy cunt was swallowing him whole. “-don’t say that! Was enough havin’ you offer your pretty lil’ cunt f’me to fuck.”
Smirking, “Cum in me, Cho. Please?”
And fuck Choso was sure he was going to pass out this very second. Collapse on top of you like an utterly fucked ragdoll. But, no - and he doesn’t know what’s more embarrassing - instead, his heavy balls are squeezing sloppily, making such a mess of you inside when he streams out thick spurts of cum.
Eyes ringing, vision spotty when he’s pouring such heavy amounts to paint your cunt white. It’s all he can do to breathe, “Fuck- fuck fuck fuck m’cumming m’sorry m’cumming m’cumming- ah- ngh-”
“F-fuck yeah give it t’me.” you murmur heatedly, drool dripping down the corner of your mouth with each pump inside reaching your lungs. Sending dredges of seed slobbering down Choso’s throbbing length, forming a pool at your inner thighs. “Give it all to me, you’re doing so good for your first time, baby.” 
Your honeyed praises stick to him like a veil of sin, having him shudder out little whines of your name. “No m’not!”
“Hm? What’re you fuuuck right there- what are you talking about? Yes, you are.” you thread your fingers through his long, damp locks. Pushing away the dark strands sticking to his forehead to connect it with yours, “Doing so good f’me.”
Choso’s breaths come out in feverish puffs, and despite having velvety strings of his cum sloshing inside your walls right now, he was still hard. Still painfully hard with each overstimulated shove into your dripping cunt. 
“Dreamt of this for so long.” he drawls, ragged. A soft thumb coming down to draw on your clit, “Been wanting you for so long n’ you have no idea. M’ jus- fuck your pussy is just too perfect, my girl.” That little confession has you clenching around him so tight. Forcing Choso to hike up a knee to stretch your thighs so far apart it burned, letting him accelerate his hips. “Too much that I can’t keep it- hah- together. S’like she’s made f’me. Jus’ wanna fill you up until you can’t take it- ngh-” 
A particularly harsh kiss to your sweet spot has Choso’s seed oozing out of your puckered hole even more. So slutty in the way that you were still clamping down to milk the soul out of him all through it. 
His pretty pink lips fall into a soft oh! at the sight. Movements languid, hypnotized when the erratic, slender fingers on your clit move down. Swirling at the treacled ring of cum around his hilt, where your pussy lips were mashing against his toned pelvis. 
You have half the mind to wonder if Choso even realized what he was doing - whether he was even breathing - as he raises those fingers to your mouth. Immediately parting your kiss-bitten lips to suck his glossy fingers clean.
The eager, lewd squelches from above and below have him pushing your body up to thrust even harder - hissing, “Oh you really ngh- made f’me.”
“Well then…” you start, muffled. And your tone already has Choso gulping. Waiting on your every word. “Why don’t you cum inside me again to make up for it and the broken headboard?”
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - HEIR
Now, it’s not often that Ryomen Sukuna feels threatened. Him? The infamous king of curses? Don’t make him laugh, everyone knows that you’re his pretty lil’ slut, his favorite human.
But it’s times like this, with your pretty self sat where you belong - right on his fat, achy cocks, your limp legs dangling off his luxurious throne, crying and begging for him to just move - he’s reminded that maybe not everyone knows. 
“Pleeease, Kuna.” you’re dragging out of your throat, voice wrecked with need. “Jus’ need to- to cum!” And he thinks it’s so adorable how you’re trying to fuck your hips up and down on his lengths, matching tips so thick that they rut against your sweet spots without even trying. 
It’s useless, with the tight, black-nailed grip he has on your stuttering hips. Making such a mess slobbering down his cocks.
“Hmmm, I dunno if you deserve it, brat.” his smug facade is laced with something else - something dangerous now. “After all…” he’s nosing down your racing pulse, breathing in as if he could smell the lust in your blood. “-you looked real cozy with that minister from earlier.”
You’re gasping - whether from his words, or from the way his curved shafts twitch so furiously inside you, you’re not sure. 
“Wh-what?”
He scoffs, “You know what m’talkin’ about.”
And you did - unfortunately. Hazy mind showing off shreds of memories from that meeting you accompanied Sukuna to earlier today. The one where, despite being dangling off his arms the entire time, one unsavory new minister managed to throw a few crass remarks your way. Something about how good you must be and how he’d give you an-
“Heir.” It’s all that Sukuna is spitting out before thrusting up into you. Deep, slow. Like he knew you were thinking about that little altercation today and wanted to fuck out every thought of it out of your pretty lil’ mind. “That little scum had the audacity to talk to my woman about how he’d have an heir by now. As if I’m not fucking you right.”
Two thick fingers come up to smush your cheeks together into a pathetic pout, spitting into your open mouth, “I’d have killed him if you didn’t fuckin’ stop me, human.”
“B-because-” you’re crying out, eyes rolling to the back of your head with each smash of his fat tip against the bullseye of your g-spot, the other marking up your cervix. “I didn’t want to cause a scene in front of-”
“So what if I caused a scene?” Sukuna’s sharp canines are nipping down on your wobbly lower lip. The curve of his dicks stretching you so thin. Taut. Until your clingy walls molded to his shape. “Do you deny me the right to defend my woman? My future heir?”
The sopping wet sounds of your poor hole being ravaged are almost too loud for you to hear his last words. Almost.
You gasp, face lolling up from where they were pressed up against his sculpted pecs. “Wait- future heir?”
And oh how Sukuna loved the sound of that on your lips. A raw groan curling up from his throat, biting his lip while he fucks you so thorough. So purposeful. 
At this point the only thing you’re managing to get out are pitchy whines, being bounced up and down like some sextoy on the king’s cocks. His massive girths tattooing your walls with each and every twin vein and ridge.
“Mhm, ya like that?” Sukuna grins, slacking down the throne to jut his muscled abdomen upwards. “Wan’ me to breed this cute cunt with my heir?”
The only response he’s getting are your nails raking red, angry marks down his tan skin, which clearly wasn’t enough for him.
“I asked you a question, brat.” This earns you a sharp smack! to the fat of your ass, his nasty cadence only speeding up. You’re barely even lucid anymore, just being slid along his towering lengths. “Use your words n’ fuckin’ tell- me-”
“Hngh!” you’re screaming out at a particularly harsh jab against your g-spot. Big fat tears rolling down your cheeks when you mewl, “Yes! Yes I wan’ it so bad, ngh- for you to fill me up. Breed me until- ngh until everyone knows.”
The honeyed grin you’re given is something you know doesn’t bode well, Suknua’s eyes darting somewhere behind you. But that’s the last thing on your mind while he spits a thick glob of saliva on your cunt. Goading, “Well if you’re that desperate, woman.”
And it’s dizzying - if you thought Sukuna was fucking you thoughtless before then you weren’t ready for right now. 
“Fuck.” he grits out. “Yes that bastard got one thing right- I just wanna- oh-” And then he’s spitting, another steady stream of saliva right on your struggling cunt. “Wanna breed this pussy- until they know m’the one that fucks you right.” He’s rubbing a palm along your stomach, drawing a line where he could feel the bulge of his swollen cocks. “Have you round and glowing with my heir.” Moving up, up, up to cradle your bouncing tits into his greedy mouth. “Have these hah- filled with milk. And have you filled with me. They’ll all see you and see me. I did this.” 
Sukuna’s red, glowing eyes are the last thing you see before everything flashes white. And then you’re cumming - barely having the capacity to give a fair warning other than, “Oh- f-fuck Kuna m’gonna.”
It takes you a moment to realize that he is as well. The squelches from your delicious cunt only increasing twofold when he’s gifting you with thick spurts of his seed. Too much. Both fat heads throbbing in staccato with your high, so furiously before they’re erupting in a gush of pure white. Too much. 
“Ahhh yes, s’where you belong.” Sukuna breathes, voice a few octaves higher with how much he was still cumming. Hips thrusting to force such filthy movements to pump his potent seed deeper and deeper - sure enough to mark you from the inside out. “Fucked dumb on m’cocks and hah- ready to make me an heir. One to kill off all the trash I can’t.” Letting it slobber down onto his abs, pooling at the muscles. Hot loads overspilling from your tight pussy now. Shit, it’s a sight so sinful that Sukuna has to tear his eyes away to look at that slightly ajar door, brows quirking at the aghast face outside he meets. “Won’t you agree, minister?”
♡ GOJO SATORU - “Do you hate me?”
“Huh- what?” you’re blinking, unsure if you even heard that correctly. Eyes darting from Gojo’s pouty pink lips to the way he was still bludgeoning his aching cock inside you, “Of course I don’t, Toru? What’s with the- hah-”
Apparently, your answer wasn’t good enough for the great Gojo Satoru, and it’s not long into your bumbling, half-drunk sentence before he’s smashing his fat tip purposefully against that honeyed g-spot he loved so much. Dragging out such cute moans from your throat while he babbles, “Then why are you- hah telling me to pull out?”
It takes everything in you to wrench your eyes open to meet his dead-serious expression, “What?”
Gojo scoffs at how fucking long it was taking your cockdrunk mind to comprehend him. Pushing your knee back further to spread your sopping cunt, squeezing his thick girth inside like some cocksleeve. “Why-” he cuts himself off with a bullying little thrust. “-are you telling- me to fuckin’ pull out.” And he sounds so genuinely devastated, voice a pitch higher than normal, breaking ever-so-slightly at the end. “Do you hate me now, sweetheart?”
“You fuckin’-” you’re spitting. Nails digging into the sides of Gojo’s pale neck when you’re pulling him closer, hissing into his panting mouth, “-idiot. I told you to- ngh- to pull out because I don’t trust that limitless of yours to work.”
“But, my girl—” he whines, burying his face to lick up the crook of your neck. “Don’ wanna leave to ah- get condoms right now. M’the strongest, when has it not worked?”
And it’s like the sole reminder of this fact is enough to spur your boyfriend on even more, because with a ragged growl he’s falling back onto his thighs - taking your boneless body right along with him. Greedy pussy sat so pretty and needy around his cock, sinking deeper and deeper down every long inch.
You could barely even feel it - limitless. Just a slight, steady pulse of jujutsu, atoms standing at attention all around your tangled bodies.  
“Oh!” you keen at the feeling of Gojo’s heft veins making their mark all along your gummy walls. Gravity sliding you down his swollen cock until your puffy folds were meeting his sharp pelvis in a messy kiss. “Y-you’re really not fuuuck- backing down, huh?”
As if to prove your point, a large palm comes up around your back, wrenching your two hands behind to pin them behind your back. Leaving you completely bare and helpless under his obscene will. 
“Nope.” Gojo hums, popping the “p”. Flashing you a fucked-out grin - and oh he looks so pretty, so wrecked with his snowy locks disheveled, cheeks a blushing pink, lips spit-glossed and worried. “How could I be when my girl- hngh feels like this?”
“S’not gonna-”
“It is-” he’s interrupting in a syrupy tone, so drunk off the way you were complaining about his limitless but taking every thrust he gives so well. “S’gonna work- it will work hngh- trust me, sweetheart.” Thumbing apart your bulging swollen folds even further to toy over your pulsing clit, “Shit- love it when you squeeze me like that. Hah- and you expected me to leave this n’ go get condoms fuckin’ right.” With every hungry thrust he’s gifting your poor pussy, Gojo’s mouth is running a mile a minute against your racing pulse. Heavy tongue lolling, eyes rolling to the back of his head with every passing millisecond you’re sucking the ever-loving soul out of him. “As if I’d wanna hah- leave this. It’ll work-”
Somewhere in-between the lingering ruts, a hand of yours runs through Gojo’s damp tresses, tugging on it to make him look. Difficult, somehow. 
“Toru…” you grip harder on his soft strands, dragging him away from his little hiding spot. Relenting, he’s slowly raising his eyes to look at you and- “Why are you-”
Oh. Shit.
If you thought Gojo was ruined before then you weren’t ready for this - his half-lidded eyes glowing, crackling with power, babbling lips sagging open in ecstacy. And if you didn’t know any better you’d have thought that the lights in your bedroom flickered dangerously just a bit. He gasps, eyes boring into yours, “What- what was I sayin’ again?”
Oh he was so fucked - and you were, too. 
Because your mouth is moving before your mind, feeling so dirty when you muse, “Told me how you were gonna- ngh- drop limitless n’ fill me up, Toru–”
Your jaw is prying open with his mean little tempo. Fat, greedy cock messing up your insides with how haphazardly he was spearing inside in weighty, animalistic thrusts. Leaving just enough time for that divot on his angry tip to peck at your sweet spots, before shoving his entire length back in and out again. Over and over and-
It only takes a mere split-second of Gojo’s limitless faltering, of him being enveloped in all your dripping heaven, before he’s cumming. And cumming so hard, gushing out so much in thick, hot streams of his heady seed.
It’s filling you up from the inside, stretching your walls taut. Sloppy. Sinful. And you can do nothing but reach your high as well, flashes of white-hot pleasure behind your eyes. Or maybe that was Gojo.
His creamy white cum kissing you inside, drooling out of your ravaged hole with every mindless push of his hips. Forcing it deeper and deeper and oh fuck, he could do this forever. Fuck condoms. Fuck limitless. He tells you that - rattles it off into your open mouth a little over fifteen times watching the coating of his cum pool a glossy sheen down your legs. Sloshing down in thick, lewd globs.
“Told you so.” you scoff. 
“That- that was just the practice round! Best out of three?”
“...”
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A/N. Picked the title out for no purpose other than self-indulgence I’m ngl.
Plagiarism not authorized.
18K notes · View notes
fawniswriting · 2 months ago
Text
𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐟𝐚𝐫𝐞
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Synopsis: After a mission filled with close calls and bad decisions, the team comes home to find an even bigger threat waiting at the door—your wrath.
Warning(s): THUNDERBOLTS SPOILERS!!! platonic!thunderbolts x reader. no use of y/n. use of the nicknames doll, honey, and pretty girl. canon typical violence. descriptions of injuries. descriptions of explosion, gun use, etc. established relationship. profanities. kissing. VERY suggestive content (minors be advised). talks of having a baby. bucky being a little feral (very briefly). slightly hurt/comfort. basically bucky and reader being the parents of the group.
Word Count: 3.6k-ish
Author's Note: GUYS I saw this fanart on instagram and instantly knew that I had to write something inspired by it!!! I've been itching to post a thunderbolts fic since last week 😭 welcome back 2012-2014 era of avengers' tower fanfics ✨️ anyway I hope they're keeping the revolution hair for bucky in doomsday or else I swear I'm gonna RIOT!!! (I know seb's head is shaved rn but wigs exist yk 😔) don't forget to comment, like, and reblog loveliesss 🩷
Bucky Barnes Masterlist
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Bucky Barnes doesn't understand a lot of things since he returned to society.
Cryptocurrency is one of them. Social media is another. Anything that involves more acronyms than actual words is an immediate no on his list.
Above all else, Bucky Barnes struggles to comprehend how exactly he became responsible for the group of walking disasters now hailed as earth's newest, mightiest heroes.
Looking at the pack of hellions in front of him, Bucky has serious doubts about that title.
Right in the middle of the tower's lobby, the Thunderbolts—the New Avengers now, apparently—are scattered like barbie dolls in the aftermath of a toddler's tantrum. John is standing against a column with a tight jaw, his left leg lifted gingerly, wrapped in a makeshift splint that looks suspiciously like someone's utility belt. Beside him, Yelena sits on the ground, legs sprawled in front of her as she cradles a bruised shoulder with an equally bruised hand. Alexei leans atop the front desk with a dried blood streaking down his temple, the young receptionist gone in fright the moment the team walked through the tower's entrance. Even Ava, usually one to disappear before debriefs, is visible for once, propped against the wall with her suit half-glitched and her expression blank.
Everyone is accounted for. Everyone is breathing. 
But they all look like they rolled down a hill of bad choices where they banged their heads at every rock.
The mission was supposed to be a quiet recon, a simple surveillance on a rumored underground tech sale in an abandoned shipyard, low risk with minimal engagement. But then someone—Bucky still doesn’t know who—decided that they could handle it. 
No heads-up. No plan. 
Just four impulsive thrill-seekers interrupting a high-stakes black market deal involving high-tech plasma rifles and an offended buyer with too many goons. 
By the time Bucky caught wind of what was happening, it was already chaos. He had to go in solo, extract the squad under heavy fire, disrupt the shipment, and reroute an entire response team of hostiles to avoid further catastrophe. They got out—just barely—and none of them seemed particularly eager to look him in the eye about it, especially after the thirty-minute tirade he launched into somewhere between fourth gear and a traffic jam.
From his place in front of the elevator, Bucky crosses his arms. “If any of you pull something like that again, you're all getting benched. Indefinitely.”
“What?!” Alexei roars.
Yelena scowls. “That’s ridiculous.”
“You don't get to make that call, Bucky,” John protests.
Ava nods. “We're not children. You can't just ground us whenever you feel like it.”
“Yeah?” Bucky laughs. Sarcastically. “Watch me, kid.”
As if on cue, the elevator arrives with a ding. Bucky gestures curtly towards the opening metal door. “Inside. Now.”
Reluctantly, the team shuffles in like a group of sheep being herded back into their pen for a much-needed nap time.
For a beat, the only sound that settles inside the cramped space is the low mechanical hum of the elevator ascending. 
That is until Ava decides to speak up.
“I’m just saying,” she begins, “it wasn’t like we meant to crash the deal. We were just improvising.”
“Improvising?” Bucky exclaims, glaring at her. “You call tossing a grenade into an active negotiation improvising?”
“It worked, didn’t it?” Yelena argues, crossing her arms. “Sort of.”
“Sort of?” Bucky screeches, his tone rising. “Walker nearly lost a leg!”
“It's just a sprain,” John clarifies. “Probably.”
“See? It's just a sprain!” Yelena repeats a little too cheerfully. “He'll be good as new in no time. Right, John?”
John nods, failing to conceal his wince when Yelena bumps her unharmed shoulder to his.
Bucky rubs his temples. “I can’t believe I’m in charge of you people.”
The elevator dings again at the top floor.
“You know,” Yelena says as the team stumbles out of the metal trapbox, “we technically stopped the deal. You're not giving us credit for that.”
“That’s because you weren't supposed to stop the deal. You were supposed to observe.”
“Back in my day, observe meant punch first, ask questions later,” Alexei quips.
Bucky lets out a scathing scoff that echoes through the air. “Right. Remind me again how many years you spent rotting in that Siberian prison, Alexei?”
“Well, that's not very nice,” John mutters.
“You know what else isn't nice, Walker?” Bucky growls. “Getting your asses lit up by dozens of machine guns because none of you seem to grasp the basic concept of following orders.”
The group swelters in a momentary silence.
“I mean, in our defense,” says Ava, “none of us actually got shot.”
Before Bucky can tell her off even further, a voice suddenly intercepts, “How fabulous! You guys didn't get shot? Geez, someone really should give you all a medal for that.”
The whole team stops in their tracks.
One by one, everyone turns their head towards the direction from which the voice has come. The view that greets them could probably send a perfectly healthy man straight into an early grave.
On the platform floor a few paces away, they find you standing with arms folded across your chest. Despite the bright lilt of your voice, your eyes are cutting as they assess the entire team with the judgement of a juror who has already decided on a guilty verdict. It's clear from your attire that you were freshly off work before going straight to the tower, and since everyone knows that you were supposed to be on a work trip to Philadelphia for at least another two days, it’s safe to assume that your ticket back was booked right around the time someone shouted “mission compromised!”.
It's a full ten seconds of shared disgrace before Yelena finally breaks the silence.
“You called her?” she hisses, landing an accusatory glare in Bucky’s direction.
“I did not.” Bucky scoffs. “And why does it matter if I did?”
“Bucky didn't call me,” you interject, your posture still rigid, your gaze still icy.
“Then who—no.” Yelena's eyes drift towards the kitchen, squinting as she takes in the figure trying to hide behind the doorway. “Bob.”
Ava snaps her head up. “Bob, you little shi—”
“That’s enough,” you jump in, moving sideways to conceal Bob from Ava's murderous line of sight. “He's got nothing to do with this. This is about you—all of you—and what a stupid, reckless, dangerous thing you just did.”
Under your scrutiny, the whole squad shifts like a pack of raccoons caught rummaging through the kitchen trash. The weight of your stare seems to age them all by a decade.
“I'm gonna give all of you two minutes to explain yourselves,” you declare, the authority in your tone indisputable. “And I already know what happened, so don't even think about trying to trick me.”
There is a lull in the air where everyone seemingly tries to process your demand.
When their mouths open again, what follows is not so much an explanation as it is a verbal dogpile. Everyone starts talking all at once—too loud, too fast, and entirely contradictory. John tries to lead with the logistics, only to be steamrolled by Alexei shouting something about creative liberty. Ava attempts to downplay the situation with a jovial “it was barely an explosion!” while Yelena throws her under the bus with a hasty “she started it!”. 
Bucky—standing to the side with the posture of a man watching his funeral getting turned into a Dollar Store circus—doesn’t even bother stepping in. He knows better. 
You hold up a single finger and the room quiets instantly, like someone pressing mute on a trashy sitcom argument. The stillness that follows is so heavy, even the lights begin to flicker in anticipation.
“But we got out fine!” Ava sputters, desperate to fill in the quietness, though her voice immediately thins when she adds, “Mostly.”
“Yeah! I mean, it's just a bruise here, a bruise there—everything's great.” Yelena grins.
Your sharp stare slides towards John, the lines between your eyebrows tightening as you take in the awkward angle of his injured leg. John nearly cowers under your piercing gaze.
“How bad is the damage?” you question, your voice booming throughout the surrounding space.
“What, this? Oh, it's not that bad. Probably just need to ice it then I'll be good as new—”
“Walker.”
It's hardly a secret that John is perhaps your least favorite person in that room, with you still clearly holding a grudge towards him for what happened with the Flag Smashers. The man is used to your constant cold shoulder by now. He expects it, even. More often than not, John finds himself wondering if you would ever warm up to him the way you have with the rest of the team.
And yet, as he now stands at the end of your long stare, John can't help but think that perhaps your silent treatment isn't really that bad. Especially if it means he doesn't have to be on the receiving end of the critical scrutiny you're currently aiming towards him.
The blond gulps.
“There's a forty percent chance it might be broken,” John admits. “But it's likely just dislocated. No big deal.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose.
“Get to the medbay and tell them to run a scan,” you command. “Alexei, go with him.”
“That's not necessa—”
The sharp glare you're sending him causes John's words to lodge in his throat.
Alexei springs right into action, steering John away from your ferocious perusal and back towards the elevator.
“C'mon, big guy,” Alexei bellows. “Let's go pay a visit to our doctor friends.”
As soon as the two men disappear into the elevator, your glower shifts towards the remaining two people standing behind Bucky. Yelena pretends to check her nails while Ava's eyes are roaming the ceiling with faux nonchalance, both a pathetic attempt to avoid the clear daggers in your stare. The ridiculousness would've made you chortle were you not livid beyond salvation right now.
“I want you two to go back to your rooms, clean yourselves up, and be back here in no more than thirty minutes,” you proclaim. “We'll continue our discussion after dinner.”
“Wait, hold on—”
“That's not—”
“Just go, you two,” Bucky interrupts, the blue in his eyes colder than the Arctic ocean. “That wasn't a request.”
The two figures slump in defeat, teetering towards the staircase with the speed of a turtle in a morning rush hour. You hear Yelena grumbling something in Russian under her breath, and you force yourself not to think about what the phrase might mean lest you want your skin to crawl in an even higher degree of vexation.
“Good gracious.” Bucky shakes his head.
Behind you, Bob emerges out of the kitchen, his shoulders drooping ever so slightly as he approaches you like a wounded kitten.
“They're mad at me, aren't they?” Bob murmurs. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you guys fight with each other.”
“It's not your fault, sweetie,” you assure him, extending your hand and offering a comforting squeeze around his palm. “They're just being idiots right now. You did good, okay? Give it a few hours and I promise you, they'll forget about this already.”
Bob nods solemnly, his voice quiet as he excuses himself and trudges towards the common area. You release a breath as you observe him diving head first onto the sofa, burying his face in the cushion like a Victorian widow fainting onto her chaise.
Turning around, your eyes lock with another pair in blue. The smile on Bucky's face grows as he takes you in, his arms opening with all the intention to collect you in his embrace. 
“Hey, doll. I've missed—”
“No. Stay right there.” You raise your palm, taking a step back. “I'm mad at you, too.”
Bucky blinks. 
He watches you turn around and walk away from him, his arms coming down limp by his sides before he scutters after your retreating form. Bucky lingers in the doorway as you move about the kitchen, taking out pots, knives, and pans while slamming the cabinet doors shut in the process. You don't even spare him a glance as you start retrieving fresh ingredients from the fridge.
“Honey?” he calls out, voice meek beneath the echo of your knife slicing through onions on the counter. “C'mon, doll, you're really not gonna talk to me?”
“No.”
The chopping continues.
Bucky rubs his face.
“You know I'm just as disappointed in them as you are, right?” he begins. “Swear to God, doll, I had nothing to do with this. Didn't even know what those rascals were planning ‘till I got the call from Alexei. Told ‘em off as soon as I extracted them outta there.”
“Hm.”
Sighing, Bucky takes a tentative step forward, then another, finally closing the distance when he's sure you wouldn't smack him across the head with the chopping board in your hand. His fingers find purchase around your elbow, halting your movements, the gentleness aching as he spins you around to face him. The knife and half-sliced onion lie dormant on the counter.
“Hey,” Bucky utters, so softly that the air nearly swallows the word whole. “Talk to me?”
You heave in a shaky breath, evading his eyes. “What's there to talk about? I told you I'm pissed.”
“Okay, that part I already got.” Bucky chuckles, brushing the back of his palm on your cheek. “Help me understand why? At least tell me how I can fix it, pretty girl. Hm?”
Your silence quivers at the edges, growing more brittle with each swipe of Bucky’s touch on your skin. The walls around your heart crumble under his infuriating tenderness.
“When Bob called and said the team had gone radio silent, I—” you pause, swallowing hard, “—I thought something terrible happened. I booked the first train out of Philly before I even hung up.”
Bucky stays quiet, watching you with careful eyes.
“I couldn’t reach anyone. Not John, not Yelena, not Ava, not Alexei—not you. And the longer I waited, the worse it got in my head. I pictured the mission going sideways. All of you gone.” You inhale sharply. “I pictured all of you coming home in body bags.”
Bucky's heart breaks at the shudder he feels running through your back. His soul is already mourning over the loss of light he would usually find shining so brightly out of your eyes. It makes him cling to you just a tad bit tighter.
“Bob finally called me again to tell me that you're all fine. That you're on your way back. But that's not the point, Bucky.” You look at him then, your fingers flexing. “The point is, I should've never heard about all of this from Bob in the first place. I should've heard it from you.”
Bucky's shoulders sink. “I didn't want you to worry.”
You shake your head, eyes burning with the threat of unshed tears. “But I do worry, Bucky! That’s the point. I worry every single time. The moment all of you step out of this building, I'm counting down the minutes until you guys return to me again. You can't shield me away from that.”
He steps closer, removing what little bit of distance between the two of you until all of your atoms are nearly merged as one. “You're right. You are. I should’ve called. Should've trusted that you'd want to know, even if it might scare you.”
“It did scare me,” you whisper. “And I didn’t want Bob’s voice telling me everything was okay. I wanted yours.”
“I’m sorry,” Bucky murmurs, his arms pulling you nearer. “No more leaving you out. I promise it’ll be me from now on. I'll tell you everything, doll. Always.”
A shuddering breath leaves your lungs, and just like that, you completely melt away under Bucky's touch. Your forehead drops against the line between his shoulder and chest, your fingers gripping his sides as though he was the very force keeping you tethered to earth. Meanwhile, Bucky's lips ghost over the top of your head, whispering sweet nothings, the contrasting temperature of his palms appeasing you with random patterns against your back.
“I don't know how this all started,” you confess. “I'm not sure when I began caring this much about those idiots, but I do. The thought of something happening to them—to you—to all of you…”
Bucky's arms tighten around your frame. “I know, honey. I feel the same way.”
“This is not what I had in mind, you know?”
You tilt your head back to stare at his face, your fingers tangling themselves in the soft waves that Bucky has been growing out over the past few weeks. He almost cut them all off several days ago, but after some convincing on your end—which may have included activities that found your fingers buried in the soft tendrils and his face buried somewhere else—you managed to talk him out of it.
Bucky's eyebrows lift. “What do you mean?”
“Well… when you said that you were joining this team, I thought I'd never seen a more dysfunctional group of people in my entire life. I figured it'd be a miracle if all of you last a whole month without someone quitting or accidentally blowing each other up.” You chuckle, your eyes softening. “I didn't think I'd end up pacing the hallway every time you guys went out, worrying like some overworked mother of five.”
Bucky huffs out a laugh, his forehead falling onto your own. “I get it. This wasn’t exactly how I imagined myself stepping into the dad role either, but… here I am.”
“Yeah?” Your lips quirk up. “How did you imagine it then?”
“Well—” Bucky's voice drops, his breath warm where it fans against your skin, “—I figured it’d start with a little house, somewhere quiet. Nothing fancy. Just enough for us to start building a life in. I’d fix the place up real proper. You’d hum to yourself as you whip up one of those famous pies of yours, and I’d pretend not to stare.”
The cheeky grin on Bucky's face grows, prompting a laugh out of your chest. His thumb continues to trace idle circles upon your waist.
“Then, when you feel the time's right, we’d try for a baby. The old-fashioned way. Real slow, real sweet. I’d kiss you like I got all the time in the world, and make love to you like I didn’t.”
Something flutters inside your chest, like stardust stirring in a forgotten corner of the galaxy. The way Bucky is looking at you makes you feel as if you were the first breath of the universe itself.
“That's how I pictured us becoming parents,” Bucky adds, brushing his lips along your jaw. “Not… this. Whatever this is.”
You smile at the graze of his beard on your cheek, angling your head to capture him in a brief kiss. 
“You know what I think this is, Buck?” you ask, teasing your lips against his own. “I think we should view this as a practice run. After all, how hard can it be to parent our own kid if we can do it to a group of five ridiculous, chaotic misfits, right?”
“Doll.” He sighs. “Are you saying what I think you're saying?”
“Depends.” You hum, your lips twitching in feigned innocence. “If you think I'm imagining you putting a baby in me… then yeah, you're absolutely right.”
Bucky swallows your cheeky grin with a kiss, grunting against your mouth as he presses you back against the counter. The muffled moans you let out are music to his ears, a lascivious melody that rushes straight towards places he reserves explicitly for you. His hands slip under your blouse, roaming the expanse of skin, drifting lower and lower in search for the one place that could send him straight to heaven and—
“Yelena! Give it back to me!”
“I told you it wasn't me!”
Bucky groans.
The shrill voices resonate all the way down to the kitchen, followed by the unmistakable echoes of footsteps thundering down the staircase. Bucky makes a guttural noise of frustration as his face slumps into the crook of your neck.
“I swear to God, I’m gonna ship them to Asgard one of these days,” he mutters.
You snort, brushing your fingers through his hair and pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. 
“Let's put a raincheck on the baby-making, soldier,” you purr, smirking when it spurs on a rumble from Bucky's chest. “Looks like I've got a fight to break up before we have two dead superheroes on our hands.”
He groans again, this time at the loss of your warmth as you slip out of his arms. From the kitchen's doorway, you raise an eyebrow towards the common area, perching your palms on either side of your hips as you take in the havoc ahead.
“What the hell is going on here?” you snarl.
“She stole my snacks!” accuses Ava.
“I don't even like Jammie Dodgers, you lunatic!”
“What a lot of crap. We all know you'd even eat chicken off the ground given the chance, you pig!”
“Fucking asshole—”
“Hey!” you interrupt, your voice sharp as you march towards the two fuming Avengers. “You call each other any more names, then I promise you, you're gonna wish you got shot on that mission today.”
Bucky watches the whole interaction from the kitchen with his arms crossed and a slow grin spreading across his face. He leans against the counter, studying you with the quiet reverence of a man who has found the meaning of home after decades of searching. Even in the midst of this domestic madness, even with the team’s antics grinding on his last nerve, he wouldn't trade a single thing in his life for anything else.
There are still a lot of things in this world that Bucky struggles to understand.
But with you by his side, and his entire team watching his six, he knows that he's got nothing to worry about.
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gf2bellamy · 4 months ago
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surprise — spencer reid
pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) summary: garcia and derek go into spencer's apartment, while you're sleeping in his bed. the problem? no one knows you and spencer are dating content warnings: secret relationship , reader also works in the bau a/n: hiii !!! i'm back to my secret relationship roots and i hope you like this <3 bc i had so much fun writing this ( i've been writing it for ages and i'm finally happy with it)
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"No, no," Spencer shook his head frantically, his voice almost pleading as Derek maneuvered the car into the parking spot at his apartment complex.
"Why not?" Garcia's voice was full of curiosity as she looked back at Spencer from the passenger seat.
The trio had spent the whole afternoon shopping for your birthday, which was just around the corner. Garcia, as usual, had already gotten everything ready, gifts, decorations, the whole nine yards. She even had a closet near her office packed with presents for you, waiting for the big reveal at the surprise party she was planning to throw.The whole mission was meant to be a fun, collaborative effort, the three of them picking out something special for you to celebrate.
But now, as Derek parked the car and they were all about to get out, Garcia’s sudden idea was making Spencer break into a cold sweat.
"I mean, we can just hang out at your place for a bit, right?" Garcia asked, her tone more like a suggestion than a question. She had already unbuckled her seatbelt, clearly excited about the idea.
Spencer swallowed hard, his fingers gripping the seatbelt. "I don’t know if that’s such a good idea," he said quickly, trying to sound casual, though the nerves were practically radiating off of him.
"I have… stuff to do." His words stumbled, but Derek caught on immediately.
"You've got a date or something?" Derek teased, raising an eyebrow. "Come on, Reid, live a little."
Spencer’s face turned a light shade of pink, but he quickly deflected with a nervous laugh. "No, no date," he replied, but the nervous energy in his tone was giving him away. "I just—uh—need to get inside."
Garcia didn't miss a beat. "Come on, Spencer," she insisted with that gleam of excitement in her eyes. "It’s been forever since we just hung out at your place. You know, a little downtime."
But Spencer’s mind was racing, heart pounding. The last thing he needed was for Derek and Garcia to come upstairs and see you there. He knew you were in his apartment right now, sound asleep in his bed, curled up in one of his sweaters. This morning, you had practically melted into him that morning, clinging to him as he reluctantly told you he had to go.You had been so warm, your face tucked into the side of his neck, holding him like you didn’t want him to leave. He’d rubbed soothing circles on your back, whispering that he’d be back soon, but you hadn't been ready to let go. Eventually, he had managed to peel himself away, promising to return as quickly as possible.
Now, his heart pounded as he watched Derek and Garcia hop out of the car without hesitation. "No, no, no—" Spencer muttered under his breath, scrambling to open his own door. He practically stumbled out, rushing after them, but they were already making their way toward his apartment building.
They didn’t even wait for him. "Of course," he thought bitterly as he hurried behind them. He knew he was too late. There was no way he could stop them now. His only hope was that you were still asleep. And there was a high chance that you were. Spencer knew your sleep schedule well. If he could just get inside before them and shut his bedroom door, everything would be fine.
As they reached the top floor, Spencer’s fingers fumbled in his pocket for his keys. His hands were practically shaking as he yanked them out, quickly jamming the correct one into the lock. Slowly, he pushed the door open just a crack, peeking inside, praying you weren’t—
"Dr. Reid. What are you doing?" Garcia’s voice was laced with amusement as she leaned against the doorframe, watching him with a smirk.Before Spencer could stop her, she pushed the door open wider, stepping inside.
Panic surged through him. His breath caught in his throat.But you were nowhere to be seen. His eyes darted toward the bedroom door. It was closed.
No sign of you.
Spencer swallowed hard, trying to compose himself as Garcia and Derek strolled inside, completely oblivious to the absolute terror he had just experienced. Spencer quickly shut the door behind them, tossing his jacket over the nearest chair, something he never did. Normally, he was meticulous about hanging it up properly, but right now, his priority was making sure nothing seemed off.
Slipping off his shoes, he warily watched as Garcia and Derek made a beeline for his kitchen. As they rummaged through his cabinets, Spencer seized the opportunity. He darted down the hallway toward the bedroom, his socked feet barely making a sound on the hardwood floor. He cracked the door open just enough to peek inside, and there you were, still fast asleep, curled up under the blankets with his sweater draped loosely over your shoulders. A small, involuntary smile tugged at his lips. He closed the door gently, careful not to make a sound, and hurried back to the kitchen before they could notice his absence.
Crisis averted.
He stopped in his tracks, however, when he saw the disaster unfolding before him.
“What are you doing?” Spencer asked, exasperated, watching as Derek and Garcia rummaged through his cabinets like raccoons.
Garcia, mid-bite into a granola bar, waved a hand dismissively. “Relax, genius, we’re just looking for snacks. By the way—” she held up the granola bar with a raised brow, “—I thought you hated these?”
Spencer froze. He did. He never ate those granola bars.
But you did. You loved them, so he always kept some stocked just for you.
He scrambled for an excuse, clearing his throat. “Uh—I just wanted to give them another try,” he mumbled, avoiding Garcia’s sharp, suspicious gaze.
Derek, now chewing a piece of toast, barely looked up. “Yeah, okay,” he said, mouth full.
Spencer shot him an unamused glare. “Can the two of you stop eating my food?”
“No,” Derek replied, taking another bite, completely unbothered. 
Spencer sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You know, most people ask before raiding someone’s kitchen,” he muttered, though there was no real bite to his words. 
Garcia giggled, popping the last bite of granola bar into her mouth. “Oh, come on, Genius. You love us. Besides, you’re acting super weird today. What’s going on with you?” 
Spencer’s eyes widened slightly, and he quickly looked away, busying himself with straightening a stack of papers on the counter
“Nothing’s going on,” he said, his voice a little too high-pitched. “I’m just… tired. It’s been a long day.” 
Garcia and Derek just exchanged a look.Spencer sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He needed to get them out of here before they found something they weren’t supposed to. Like, say… you.
“Do you think she’ll like my gift?” Garcia asked, peeking at the bag on the counter, her fingers fidgeting with the ribbon.
“Most definitely, babygirl,” Derek answered without hesitation, dusting the crumbs off his hands after finishing his toast. “She’s been talking about it for weeks.”
Spencer, still trying to recover from his near heart attack, nodded in agreement. “Yeah, she’ll love it,” he said, meeting Garcia’s eyes with a small, reassuring smile.
Garcia beamed, clearly pleased with herself. “Oh, she’ll love yours, boy genius,” she added, pointing at Spencer. “You know her so well.” Her voice carried a teasing lilt, her grin mischievous.
“Maybe too well,” Derek chimed in, eyebrows raised as he leaned casually against the counter, arms crossed. His grin was knowing, smug. Spencer stiffened.
“When are you finally gonna ask her out?” Derek asked, his grin widening.
Spencer felt his face heat up instantly. He blushed, but not for the reason they thought. He blushed because he remembered the day it happened. The way his heart had pounded in his chest, his palms sweaty as he rehearsed the words in his head over and over. He’d been so nervous, he��d almost convinced himself to back out.
But then he’d seen you, your smile, the way your eyes lit up when you noticed him approaching, and all his doubts had melted away. When he finally asked, his voice trembling slightly, your reaction had been everything he’d hoped for. Your face had lit up, and you’d nodded so quickly, it was almost comical.
“Yes!” you’d said, your voice filled with so much enthusiasm that it made him laugh. In that moment, all his anxiety had washed away, replaced by a giddy, almost overwhelming sense of relief and joy. 
“Aww, how cute!” Garcia practically vibrated with excitement, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she pointed an accusatory finger at Spencer. “He’s blushing,” she sang, her grin stretching impossibly wide. 
Spencer groaned, shaking his head in exasperation. “Did you two come into my apartment just to eat my food and make fun of me?” he asked, arms crossed.
“Pretty much,” Derek said, completely unfazed as he made his way back toward the fridge.
Spencer let out a sharp breath, trying to mask his anxiety. He knew you were still asleep, but that didn’t stop the lingering fear that their loud voices might wake you up.
But then, Derek stopped in front of the fridge.His eyes locked onto the calendar hanging there, and a slow, amused smirk spread across his face.
“Look at this, sweetheart,” Derek said, turning toward Garcia, his voice thick with amusement. Garcia leaned in, her eyes widening as she saw what Derek was pointing at. There, on the calendar, your birthday was circled in bold red marker, surrounded by a carefully drawn heart.
Garcia gasped, clapping her hands together in delight. “Oh. My. God,” she said, her voice rising with every word. “Spencer Reid, you are down bad!”
Spencer felt his face burn even hotter. He wished he could disappear into the floor, or maybe just teleport to another dimension entirely. Anything to escape this moment.Because the truth was, he hadn’t been the one to draw that heart on the calendar. It had been you.
He remembered the moment perfectly.
The day he hung the calendar up, you had been standing right there beside him, watching with an amused little smile. Then, without hesitation, you had grabbed the nearest marker, a red one, of course, and went straight to your birthday month, drawing a huge heart around the date. "So you don’t forget."
He had chuckled, shaking his head as he stepped behind you, wrapping his arms loosely around your waist. Then, he had pressed a soft kiss to your temple, murmuring against your skin. "I don’t forget anything. Especially not something like that."
You had giggled. And Spencer had loved making you giggle.
Now, standing in his kitchen, faced with his coworkers’ relentless teasing, he was struck with the embarrassing realization that Derek and Garcia thought he was some hopelessly lovesick teenager who had scribbled hearts around his crush’s name in a notebook.
(Which, if he was being completely honest, wasn’t that far from the truth.)
But what was he supposed to say?Tell them the truth? Admit that the woman he’d been secretly dating for months, the same woman they were here shopping for, was currently asleep in his bed down the hall? Absolutely not.
But then the choice was taken away from him anyway.
Suddenly, the sound of running water echoed from down the hallway, causing both Garcia and Derek to freeze mid-sentence. Their heads snapped toward the source of the noise, their eyes widening as they stared at Spencer.
Spencer stared back, equally wide-eyed, his mind racing. You were in the bathroom, happily brushing your teeth, completely unaware that two of your and Spencer’s, coworkers were standing in the kitchen, mere feet away.
“Spencer Walter Reid,” Garcia gasped, her voice loud enough to carry through the apartment. She clutched Derek’s arm like she was about to faint. “Is there someone here?”
“No, no,” Spencer said quickly, shaking his head so vigorously that his curls bounced. “It’s probably just my washing machine turning on.”
As if on cue, the bathroom door creaked open, and then closed again. Spencer’s heart sank. “Oh no,” he mumbled under his breath, his stomach twisting into knots.
And then, there you were.
You padded into the kitchen, blissfully unaware of the chaos you were about to unleash. You were wearing Spencer’s boxers, which hung loosely around your hips, and one of his Star Wars shirts that was far too big for you, the hem brushing against your thighs. Your hair was slightly messy, and you were still rubbing sleep from your eyes. Then you stopped. Blinking, you finally seemed to register the two extra people in the room.
Garcia. Derek.
Standing there.
Staring.
At you.
In Spencer’s clothes.
Two pairs of eyes stared at you. And you stared back, your own eyes wide, your brain struggling to process the scene in front of you. Spencer, meanwhile, was staring at the ground like it might suddenly open up and swallow him whole. Garcia broke the silence, her voice low and uncharacteristically quiet, something almost more shocking than if she’d screamed.
“Am I… dreaming?” she whispered, clutching Derek’s arm like a lifeline. She looked pale, her usual vibrant energy replaced by sheer disbelief as she took in your disheveled state.
Derek, for once, seemed just as stunned. “I… no, I don’t think so,” he said hesitantly, his usual confidence replaced by uncharacteristic uncertainty. He blinked at you, then at Spencer, then back at you, as if trying to piece together what exactly was happening.
“Spencer,” you hissed, your voice low but urgent. “What the hell is happening?” You tugged self-consciously at the hem of his Star Wars shirt, trying to pull it down further.
Normally, you were the picture of professionalism at work, always impeccably dressed and composed. But here you were, standing in Spencer’s kitchen in his boxers and an oversized shirt, your hair a mess and your face still flushed from sleep.
It was beyond awkward, it was mortifying.
Spencer finally looked up, his expression a mix of guilt and panic. “I, uh… this isn’t—” he started, but Garcia cut him off.
“Oh no, no, no,” Garcia said, her voice rising with every word, her hands flailing dramatically. “You do not get to ‘this isn’t’ us right now. This is happening. This is definitely happening.” She pointed a finger at you, then at Spencer, her eyes wide. “You two. Together. In his apartment. Wearing his clothes. Oh my gosh, this is the best day of my life.”
You froze, your cheeks burning as you tugged self-consciously at the hem of Spencer’s shirt. “Penelope, it’s not—” you started, but she cut you off with a wave of her hand.
“Nope, nope, nope,” she said, shaking her head so vigorously that her curls bounced. “No explanations, no excuses. This is happening. I have been waiting for this moment for years.”
Spencer groaned, running a hand through his already messy hair. “Garcia, please—”
“No,” she interrupted again, her voice rising an octave. “You don’t get to ‘Garcia, please’ me right now. This is huge. This is monumental. This is—”
“A disaster,” Spencer muttered under his breath, though the faintest hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
Derek, who had been quietly observing the scene with an amused grin, finally chimed in. “Man, Reid, I gotta hand it to you. I didn’t think you had it in you.”
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “This is so embarrassing,” you muttered, though there was a hint of laughter in your voice.
Garcia, meanwhile, was practically bouncing on her toes, her excitement palpable. “Oh, this is going to be so much fun. I can’t wait to tell—”
“No!” Spencer and you said in unison, your voices sharp enough to make Garcia freeze mid-sentence.
“You are not telling anyone,” Spencer said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Garcia pouted, but there was a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Fine, fine. But only because I’m feeling generous. For now.”
Derek chuckled, shaking his head. “Man, this is going to be the best office drama ever.”
You groaned again, burying your face in your hands. “I’m going back to bed,” you muttered, turning on your heel and heading back down the hallway. As you disappeared into the bedroom, Garcia and Derek turned to Spencer. “You’ve got some explaining to do, Pretty Boy,” Derek said, his grin widening.
Spencer sighed, knowing there was no escaping this. “Yeah,” he said, his voice resigned. “I know.”
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kingkaisen · 4 months ago
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hello. just recently started reading your dad!gojo fics and i am obsessed with them. i saw you mention taking requests for it, so i thought i would send something in. feel free to change any details.
i would like to request a scenario about megumi finally feeling maternal love. i noticed he's always afraid y/n and gojo will change their minds about adopting him and he always compares himself to yuji.
could i request some bonding time between megumi and the reader? maybe he opens up about his worries and feelings. i was thinking the reader could defend him when someone being rude to him as well, but any direction you go in, i will love. i just really am asking for bonding time between mother and son.
MY SON || SATORU G.
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♡ — SUMMARY: After you & Satoru adopt Yuji and Megumi, Megumi can’t help but fear that you both will abandon him.
♡ — CONTENT: general angst with comfort, satoru being a great family man, mentions of depression, not eating, very brief mention of wanting to die, & happy ending. you & satoru have a biological child as well.
♡ — WORD COUNT: 4K
♡ — AUTHOR’S NOTE: This fic is part of my Dad!Gojo series, but reading the other parts isn’t necessary.
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Megumi’s eyes snapped open. Beads of sweat coated his forehead and neck as he was greeted by the darkness of his bedroom.
Another nightmare.
His fourth one this week.
They weren’t about curses or haunting memories of his past battles, not at all. But, what he did dream about was equally as terrifying; his belongings tossed out on the streets in garbage bags.
“We don’t need two adopted teenagers,” you’d say, glaring at him with utter resentment.
“We have Yuji. He’s the perfect son,” Satoru would add on.
Just like that, he’d return to his old, familiar title of an orphan. Just like that, he’d have to wonder what it felt like to be loved by a mother and father instead of experiencing it himself. Just like that.
He tried to shove the memory of those dreams away because that was all they happened to be. Dreams. A manifestation of his horrid fears. They weren’t real, right? Not some twisted form of foresight?
Megumi rolled over onto his side. The digital clock on his nightstand flickered to 3:47 A.M.
His left pajama pant leg was rolled up to his knee, and the neck of his blue t-shirt was damp with sweat — all signs of a rough slumber, though he had hardly slept at all.
He pulled the messy sheets and comforter over his body, but there was no chance of him falling back asleep. He never did after his nightmares, and it was evident based on the dark circles forming underneath his blue eyes. He’d just lie awake, and let his mind wander . . .
It wasn’t a dream.
It would soon become his reality.
He knew it.
He wasn’t your biological kid like his little sister, Maya. He wasn’t even half as energetic or enthusiastic as Yuji. That boy constantly showered you both with appreciation. Beyond that, Yuji's sudden appearance in your life was the main reason you and Gojo considered adopting Megumi in the first place, despite you both having known Megumi for years prior.
Why did you never consider adopting him before you met Yuji? Why?
It could only mean that his suspicions were correct. You and Gojo didn’t want him. You wanted Yuji and didn’t want to hurt Megumi’s feelings. So, you ended up adopting two teenagers instead of one.
And it was only a matter of time before you and Gojo would get fed up with him.
He should leave first instead of waiting for the day in which you both decide you’re better off without some moody sorcerer bringing the rest of the family down during board game nights and movie marathons.
He’d do it.
He’d pack his bags and leave.
No one would notice.
No one would care.
He was unwanted.
He wasn’t your son.
He was stowaway.
It was edging closer to 9:00 A.M., and there was an empty spot at the breakfast nook in the gourmet kitchen.
The table was packed to the brim with servings of toast, meat, eggs, and rice. Satoru took a bite of his egg, watching Maya spread jam on her piece of toasted bread as best as she could, all while Yuji gobbled down his food as if someone was going to snatch it from him.
“Slow down,” you approached, coffee in hand, ruffling your boy’s messy hair.
“Huh?” Yuji paused with a mouth full of food. He swallowed, then said, “Oh, sorry. Everything’s just really great!”
You took a sip of your coffee, frowning upon seeing that Megumi wasn’t at the breakfast nook.
“Did Megumi oversleep?” You locked eyes with Satoru.
“I’m pretty sure he’s awake,” Satoru said, grabbing a napkin before gently wiping strawberry jam off of his adorable daughter’s face. Speaking to the young girl, he mumbled, “careful now, Muffin.”
You took a tentative sip of your warm beverage. “I’m gonna go check on him.”
Three gentle knocks sounded from Megumi’s bedroom door.
“Megumi?” You called from the other side. “Breakfast is ready.”
There was a beat of silence, then, he weakly replied, “Not hungry.”
“Can I come in?”
Megumi sighed, but even so, he said yes, and you entered your son’s room to see him still in bed, curled up underneath his covers, the majority of his body hidden underneath the thick fabric.
“You barely touched your dinner last night,” you said, leaning against the frame of his door. “You’ve barely come out of your room at all. Are you feeling sick?”
“I’m fine.”
It was a lie.
You read enough books about raising teenagers to spot false tales. Even so, you didn’t press him, even when an enormous lump of worry started to form in your throat.
“Alright. Food’s here when you want it.” You grabbed his door handle, closing it slowly, awaiting his response, but one never came.
Two hours had passed. This time, when someone knocked on Megumi’s door, it was in the form of a rather silly tune, and that person did not wait for permission to enter. Megumi knew exactly who it was without emerging from underneath his comforter.
“Fushigubro!” Yuji peeled the layers of covers back and shook the boy’s shoulder. “Wanna see if Nobara’s free later? Maybe we can all catch a movie or something.”
Megumi didn’t answer. Instead, he grabbed the covers Yuji removed, and rehid himself as if the covers served as some sort of protective shield.
“You seem kinda tired,” Yuji tilted his head a bit. “Did you stay up late?”
“Go away, Yuji.”
“Why? You’ve been ducking me all week!” Much like the conversation between you and Megumi earlier, Yuji, too, waited for a response that never came.
With a heavy sigh, he started to leave his brother’s room. “Alright, your loss. Some pretty great stuff is coming out this weekend.” It was one, last, desperate attempt. An attempt that failed. With another sigh, Yuji mumbled, “See you later.”
The pitter-patter of small feet could be heard approaching Megumi’s door around noon. For Maya, Megumi at least built up both the patience and energy to turn over onto his side, facing the door as the little girl opened it and ran into his bedroom.
“Meg-mi! Come on, let’s play! Let’s play!”
He gathered all the energy he could muster to say, as kindly as he could, “Not right now.”
“But we always play,” Maya frowned.
“Maybe later.”
“Pleaseee?” She tapped her feet.
“Go away.”
Those words hurt her. Maya was almost five years old, and though she was one of the kindest kids one would ever meet, she was still incredibly sensitive. It was no surprise to see the young girl’s eyes widen with sadness and her bottom lip start to quiver. Megumi, who was the coolest person in the world to her, had never spoken to her in such a way. It hurt.
Her little sniffles grew louder as she left his bedroom.
By the time Maya made her way from Megumi’s room to the living room, she was practically drowning in her own tears. Through blurred vision, she sought out the hazy figure sitting on the couch, her arms outstretched.
“What’s wrong, Muffin? C’mere.” Satoru scooped her up, sitting her on his lap. “What happened?”
Hearing the commotion, you stepped into the living room, your eyebrows knitted together in great concern.
“Meg-mi didn’t wanna play,” she sniffled. “He-he said to go away!”
“I’ll play with you, sweetheart. We can play whatever you want until lunch is ready, hm?” Satoru wiped her tears away with the end of his sleeve. “Don’t cry. You’re breaking my heart.”
“Okay,” she spoke with a little mumble. “Does Meg-mi hate me? ‘Cause he’s my brother . . . and brothers aren’t s‘posed to hate you.”
“No, no, he doesn’t hate you. I think he might just be a little sick right now,” Satoru paused. “Sometimes people want a little peace and quiet when they’re not feeling well.”
“And soup.”
“That’s right, and soup,” Satoru gave her a soft smile.
“How about I make you something special for lunch, Maya?” You suddenly caught the young girl’s attention, faking a bright smile with the hopes of cheering her up. “What do you want to eat?”
“I . . . umm . . . uh . . . sandwiches!”
“Sandwiches it is. Mommy’s gonna make you the biggest sandwich ever,” you promised.
“Let’s go play,” Satoru said to Maya.
She hopped off of his lap, running as fast as her tiny feet would carry her to the backdoor, where she and her dad would spend the next hour playing together in the enchanting backyard.
Beautiful sandwiches were stuffed to the brim with meat, veggies, and sauces — every sandwich customized to each specific family member’s liking. They were cut in half, resting on plates with apple slices served on the side.
Satoru and Maya would be inside soon to gobble their sandwiches down. Yuji wasn’t home, and would perhaps grab lunch with his friend, so you stored his sandwich away in a Tupperware container, popping it in the fridge for later.
You held on to Megumi’s plate. He had skipped breakfast. He hadn’t left his room all day.
Approaching his bedroom, his lunch in hand, you noted that his door was open. This little fact would have made you smile under ordinary circumstances, but today, it snapped your heart into pieces.
You knew well that Maya never remembered to shut doors. Therefore, it was easy to gather that she left it open earlier when she asked Megumi to play, and if it was still open, then that meant your son couldn’t even find the strength or desire to close it himself.
You stepped into his room as quietly as you could. You eyed the lump underneath the covers, hoping Megumi would emerge, but at best, you were only able to see the very top of his head. Even his black hair wasn’t as spiky today.
The plate clanked against Megumi’s nightstand as you sat it down. He didn’t move. He didn’t say a word. If it wasn’t for the rise and fall of the covers, in sync with his slow breathing, you would have assumed he was dead.
It was motherly instinct that made your hand reach out, wanting to touch his shoulder or pull him in for a hug or even just pat his arm — anything. But you didn’t. You didn’t touch him at all. You only turned around and left, hoping that when you returned, it would be to collect an empty plate that needed to be washed.
The afternoon sun had warmed the big family home, casting gentle orange sun rays through the windows with drawn curtains, natural light filtering in.
A half-cold mug of tea sat on the coffee table in your den, right beside a closed novel you grabbed off of the bookshelf to read, but you had no desire to do so right now. Not when you could only think about your son.
It was time to check on him again.
His room, unlike the rest of the house, was dark. Chilly. His blackout curtains left the sunlight no chance of entering his space.
Megumi himself was in a slightly different position than he was when you stepped into his room earlier to give him his sandwich. He was still under the covers, still hidden, breathing slowly, but the shape of him indicated he was curled up into a ball.
The sandwich.
The plate was sitting on his nightstand. Not a piece of the sandwich had been nibbled on, not even a crumb. The untouched apple slices were starting to turn brown around the edges.
“Megumi . . .”
He shifted a bit but didn’t respond. Earlier in the day, he would have at least mumbled something, but now, he no longer bothered with doing that either. It was as if he was worsening by the hour.
You were on the verge of tears. What was wrong with him? What was going on with your boy?
Satoru joined you in the living room fifteen minutes later. During that time, you weren’t aware of your own endless pacing until your husband wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, halting your footsteps.
“Talk to me,” he whispered.
“I’m really worried about Megumi,” you wasted no time pouring out your grievances, resting the back of your head against your husband’s chest. “He won’t eat. I thought it was my cooking at first, but he won’t take a bite, Satoru. He won’t leave his bed, he’s barely sleeping . . . if he was sick, I think he’d tell us. And it’s not like him to hurt Maya’s feelings.”
“I think he’s depressed. It’s rare when a sorcerer isn’t depressed.”
“None of his latest missions have been too . . . traumatizing,” You turned around in Gojo’s arms, looking up into his eyes. “Why would he suddenly start to act this way now?”
“Sometimes that’s just how it works. All we can do is continue to give these kids the world, and hope that it balances out the shitty job that comes with being a sorcerer,” Satoru planted a kiss on your forehead. “Want me to talk to him?”
You shook your head as a way of saying no. “I want to do it. But I have a gut feeling he’s depressed about something else. I just know it.”
The white-haired man cradled your head, guiding it towards his chest. His other arm was still wrapped around your waist, and for a moment, he simply held you.
“Megumi?”
You stood at Megumi’s bedside. He didn’t answer at first, but you called his name again; this time, in a more pressing manner.
“Megumi.”
“Hm?” He mumbled. It was so low, that your ears almost didn’t catch it.
“Is it too lame for a teenager to spend a Saturday evening with their mother?” You questioned.
With a slow, exhausted tone, Megumi said, “It’s not personal, Yuji just likes hanging out with Nobara-”
“No, I mean- sorry. You misunderstood me. I’m not asking you about Yuji. I’m asking you if you’d like to spend time with me. Just you and me.”
For a brief moment in time, Megumi didn’t respond, nor did the covers rise and fall with the movements of his body. The teenager was holding his breath.
Suddenly, he pulled the covers down. For the first time in what felt like ages, you could see his face. It both sparked internal fireworks of joy and snapped your heart into pieces. You were happy to finally see him, but the sight of his pale skin, eye bags, and absolute misery glistening within his eyes broke you.
For Megumi, hearing your offer to spend time alone with him was confusing.
“Why?” He asked.
“Because I want to have some quality time with you, silly. There’s a new cafe, just opened up down the street. I checked out their menu online and I really think you’d enjoy it,” you smiled at him. “Best black coffee in town, so I’ve heard.”
“Satoru must be busy,” Megumi mumbled, “If you’re asking me to go with you.”
“Satoru is napping with Maya and doing absolutely nothing with his life right now. I could go with him, but I want to go with you.”
It was no understatement to say that Megumi’s mind was often unkind to him. Right now, a thousand different thoughts were flooding in: Was this some sort of tactic to get him out of the house, leave him stranded somewhere, and tell him to never return? Or was it more so a Last Good Day sort of method, where you’d give him special treatment to lessen the incoming blow: hey kid, we don’t want you around anymore.
What if this was something else entirely?
What if this determined whether you’d love him as a son?
If he said no, if he continued to sulk in bed, would that make you despise him? Send him back to the unwelcoming school grounds run by, as Satoru called them, “conservative fools?” Reduce him to nothing more than an orphan once again?
But, maybe, just maybe, if he said yes . . . if he said yes, he could prevent that from happening. Maybe.
“Isn’t this nice?”
The quaint cafe was so new, Megumi could still smell the fresh paint, though it was faint. Beige and brown tones were broken up with green plants placed nearest the entrance, and the late afternoon sun only made the atmosphere that much more cozy.
Megumi stared down at the hot black coffee in his mug. “Did you really want to spend time with me, or did you just make that up?”
Your eyes snapped away from the menu in your hand. “Of course I want to spend time with you. Why are you having such a hard time believing that?” You wanted to reach out and touch his hand, but noting how he wasn’t the biggest fan of physical affection, you sought against it. “Megumi, what’s going on? Please talk to me. I’m trying to hide how worried I am, but I-”
“Well, well, well, you look like shit,” an unfamiliar voice started to speak — or, rather, unfamiliar to you, as Megumi’s face twisted into one of discomfort as a teenage boy approached your table. “Surprised to see you out of the infirmary for once, Megumi. You sure that coffee isn’t too hot for you? I bet you-”
“I’m going to stop you right there.” You put your menu down on the table, folding your hands. You gave the sorcerer student a threatening smile. “Please don’t speak that way to my son.”
“Son?” The black-haired bully started to chuckle. “Are you-”
“Yes. Son. Now walk away.”
“Who do you-”
“Walk away.”
There was no cursed energy involved, no cursed speech, yelling, or anything of the sort, and therefore, the stranger couldn’t determine what about your presence made him turn on his heel and head in the other direction. Perhaps, it was just plain old fear.
“I oughta put him in the infirmary,” you frowned, turning your eyes away from the retreating bully and back towards Megumi. “Who was that?”
“Just some jerk. Don’t worry about it,” he said.
Though he was an expert when it came to neutral and emotionless facial expressions, you tried to read him, and noted that, shockingly, a small, amused smile tried to tug on Megumi’s lips.
“What?” A confused grin appeared on your face.
“Nothing,” he took a sip of his coffee. “Um, thank you, by the way.”
“Of course.” Your smile fell into a more serious expression. “But back to what we were talking about. Why do you think I wouldn’t want to spend time with you?”
“I dunno,” he shrugged. “I’m just not as fun to be around as everyone else. Yuji, for example.”
The look on your face changed into one that was all too familiar. It was the look you gave him whenever he came back from a mission covered in bruises — the look of love and worry.
“Megumi, I need you to understand that Satoru and I adore everything about you. You are a joy to be around. You have this . . . this comforting and kind presence. We love your quietness just as much as we love Yuji’s hyperness. It just worries us when you shut us out completely. You won’t leave your bed, you won’t touch your food-”
“I know, I know,” Megumi took another sip of his coffee, avoiding your gaze.
“Please tell me why. I want to help.”
Megumi’s leg started to shake. He scratched at the skin surrounding his thumbnail.
“I just think you and Satoru will wake up someday. . .” he paused, taking a small breath. Right now, he wished he could die. “Wake up and realize you don’t want me around.”
Half of you expected some sort of punchline or fit of laughter to indicate that this was some kind of joke, but it never came. Your son only stared holes into the table.
“What? Why would you think something as ridiculous as that?” Your frown deepened. “Do you feel as if we don’t treat you well, or?”
“It’s nothing like that. I think you treat me better than I deserve,” Megumi scratched the back of his neck, though it wasn’t itchy. “But, I met Satoru when I was six. I met you the second you two started dating just one year later. I’ve been in your lives for years now, but you didn’t bother adopting me until you met Yuji last year. Don’t get me wrong, you and Satoru were teenagers when we met and he was nothing more than my teacher until recently, but I can’t help but think that I’m only here now because you would’ve felt too guilty had you adopted Yuji, and not me.”
The instrumental tunes playing softly within the cafe filled the silence as you took a moment to process Megumi’s words.
It was only for a couple of seconds, but to Megumi, it was enough time for him to start mentally preparing for the realization that, perhaps, he would be sleeping elsewhere tonight.
“Megumi, even when Satoru and I were just a few years older than you are now, we still tried our best to care for you as often as we could. I know it was nothing more than a warm meal every now and then or a new shirt for your birthday, but we still loved you.” Megumi looked up at you at long last, and you continued, “We should’ve adopted you sooner. You were always so independent and mature, so I guess we didn’t realize how much it would’ve meant to you. I’m sorry. But please don’t ever think we only adopted you because we wanted to adopt Yuji. Once we opened our minds to the idea of adoption in general, we adopted you because making you our son officially was a no-brainer. In our eyes, you were already our kid. Our very first kid. We love you.”
In our eyes, you were already our kid. Our very first kid. We love you.
Our very first kid.
We love you.
Those words were on a constant loop within Megumi’s mind like a broken record. The corners of his lips twitched, along with his eyebrows, and though his eyes were watery, it wasn’t from misery.
“I’m not used to anything like this . . . to people sticking around,” he couldn’t help but let one single tear fall.
“I know, hun. But you better get used it, because we’re not going anywhere. You’re not going anywhere.” Reaching out, you touched Megumi’s hand, stroking your thumb across his knuckles. He tensed, but he didn’t pull away. “C’mon, let’s order. And don’t you dare try to order the cheapest thing. Order something you actually want.”
The teenager nodded, discreetly wiping away another tear, and together, you both got up and headed for the counter.
Dining on cafe food was an enjoyable experience. Megumi didn’t finish his plate, but he ate around half of it — it was better than nothing.
After returning home, you rested your head in Satoru’s lap as you recounted the details of the late afternoon. You both stayed that way, doing nothing but softly and lovingly chatting with one another — and exchanging a few kisses — until evening fell. Yuji came home with 3D glasses on his head, a cup of soda in hand, and the scent of buttery popcorn all over his clothes. By then, Satoru was tucking his little girl into bed while Yuji rambled on to you about the movie he saw, all before taking a shower and preparing for bed himself.
A few hours later, every member of the Gojo household was fast asleep — except for you. Your back was pressed against the headboard of your enormous king-sized bed — bigger than a traditional king-sized, truth be told — and Satoru’s arm was draped across your lap as he slept on his stomach. You flipped another page of your novel.
Suddenly, a figure appeared in your doorway, visible thanks to the warm light of your touch-controlled lamp.
“Can’t sleep?” You asked.
Megumi shook his head, “another nightmare.”
Of course, your comforting words weren’t enough to undo the depression itself. However, the fact that Megumi was coming to you instead of lying awake, alone with his horrid thoughts, was progress. Great progress.
“Why don’t you try sleeping in here?” You offered a smile. “Would you be comfortable with that?”
Megumi nodded. He left briefly to grab his pillow and a blanket from his room, but when he returned and tossed it down on the floor, you frowned.
“No, no, no,” you objected. “I’d kick Satoru out of this bed before I let you sleep on the floor. There's plenty of room at the foot of the bed.”
Though he was hesitant at first, Megumi eventually crawled over your silk comforter with his blanket and pillow. It was true. The bed was big enough for him to lay across the bottom of it horizontally and not touch Satoru, who was well over six feet tall.
Soon enough, Megumi started to sleep.
But said sleep wasn’t peaceful.
Looking up from the pages of your book, you noticed Megumi was tossing and turning. His blanket was no longer draped over his body but knocked onto the floor.
That was enough for you to shove your bookmark into your novel. It thumped lightly when you closed it before placing it on your nightstand. You moved Satoru’s heavy arm off of your lap — he groaned, but he didn’t fully awaken.
Quietly, slowly, you approached your restless son. God, how the sight of him suffering made your heart ache. Grabbing the fuzzy blanket off of the floor, you tossed it back over him. Then, as gently as you could, you raised the boy’s head, sat down, and guided his head to your lap.
Your soft fingers alternated between stroking his forehead and his hair. Your motherly touch was soothing. Unfamiliar. Healing.
“Everything’s alright, Megumi,” you whispered. “We love you.”
Megumi’s thrashing started to calm down. In his sleep, he released a deep breath, and the muscles of his face started to relax with every gentle brush of your fingers.
For the first time in quite a while, your son slept peacefully for the rest of the night.
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— Next Part.
🏷️: @marvel-girl3 @goldenglow149 @luaqsv @sstoru @pinkfemdolly @satorusgummies @therealmrsgojo @leehriie @iminlovewqr0w @odessa-is-my-queen @melodycelos
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kismetlotts · 3 months ago
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cw: accidental ejaculation, cumming untouched, colleague Simon Riley, he gets told off, harsh and vulgar words, mild mention of sexual assault (but no sexual assault at all), angry reader, cocky Simon, Simon has a big ego, mentions of catcalling, sexual content, perhaps degradation kink? Simon is a little obsessed with you
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Dark, chocolate brown eyes locked onto yours as he slumped down opposite your desk. His wide back and muscles greedily swallowing up the chair he sat on. His dominant figure unmoving- legs parted with his arms crossed over his torso. Trying to act unbothered but the little bobbing of his leg assured you otherwise, he'd been waiting for this.
Simon had been a bad, bad boy around base- for numerous reasons and it really was rather annoying. The rules that were set in place were there to provide a safe and respectful atmosphere within the dangerous workplace- there was no room for mistakes, personal quarrels or anything that could negatively affect work performance. Some measures may seem drastic and some rules even ridiculous- but it was something everyone had to follow and did follow for the most part. Everyone but Simon apparently.
A huff fell from your dampened lips and Simon scooted closer in his chair. Watching patiently while your fingers traced and flipped over a thick, overflowing folder in front of you. The segments jam packed with papers of previous warnings, rule breaks, inappropriate actions-on and off of the field. Verbal abuse warnings, physical abuse warnings- unnecessary comments he had made and you could believe it.
You could believe it because he had broken such rules around you, often.
You sighed as you sat back and looked up at him again. Feeling your mouth run dry at the way his eyebrows softened and your words tumbled on the tip of your tongue. It was insane- he must have magic powers or something: how else could he just trick you into being so vulnerable? So submissive and shy- so offering.
“Look- Simon, you know what you’re here for..” You murmured out shutting your eyes momentarily, shaking away the thoughts echoing in your head. Voices of your inner desires, kissing up your collarbone and along your jaw before whispering in your ear to let yourself go. Submit to him and let him have you right here at your desk.
Simon’s large frame didn’t move a fraction from what you could see, it looked as if he didn’t even blink. His teeth sunken into his bottom lip beneath the mask as he waited for you to continue, longing for more words to come out of them tight, juicy lips. He was into it, he was so fucking enjoy this moment with you alone in your office. It smelt like you, you were staring through him: aiding him with all your attention just like he imagined in his late-night fantasies.
“No clue.” Simon grumbled, breaking the prolonged silence and shuffling in his seat to get comfortable. He was doing it the hard way- this meeting only needed to last five or so minutes because both of you knew the SAS needed him more than they’d admit- they would never dream of firing or dismissing The Simon Riley. He knew this didn’t need to be anything other than, ‘Just please don’t do it again.’ or 'Next time there will be serious consequences.' But of course, nothing was easy when it came to him. He liked prolonging things to waste your time. He liked the hassle and loved the stroppy little pout you made in his direction.
“During training, someone reported you being verbally abusive to Johnny and physically threatening to him- It is unacceptable.” The tone of your words made Simon internally shiver in delight. Pissing you off- making you grumble, whine and huff turned him on more than anything.
Almost every small mistake he made was with you in mind, imagining what you’d say if you walked in and saw him causing such a ruckus. What you would do to him after catching him being naughty and rule breaking. There was another small silence between the two of you as his mind raced back in the words you said, snatching himself away from his thoughts and focusing on what you were actually talking him about. Someone reported him?
“Tell me who reported it.” Saliva ran cold down your throat as you swallowed, choking back the scoff that was about to slip at the audacity of his demand. Simon was in no position to be sat there giving you orders instead.
“So you can go threaten them as well? Not a chance.” He couldn't help but grinned beneath his mask at your snarky response but still he held his eyes sharp onto yours. Blinking as he shifted his head to the side ignoring your words.
“Was it one of the newbies?”
“It’s irrelevant who reported it-” You shunned him harshly, raising a hand and squeezing your thighs together to silence the needy ache forming in your pussy. How can he be so infuriating and so pathetically hot at the same time? You weren't sure if you were crosser at Simon or at yourself for succumbing and allowing yourself to fall victim to him. Allowing yourself to get so wet and horny while you should be scolding him for his actions.
“Actually, love, it is relevant. Whoever they might be they are spreading misinformation about me and things I'm doing. I don’t break rules.” An involuntary laugh escaped from your mouth and the sound shot straight to his groin. Feeling his cock twitching up against his cargos as he grew hard and frim the more he watched you. Eyes of fire, with a bitten back tone to refrain yourself from exploding in anger; hands trembling in a silent rage.
“You cat-call me everyday I enter the building, I think that alone breaks the sexual misconduct policy and could also count as misogyny or harassment against your colleagues.” The whites of his eyes became more prominent from shock- shining back at you like a pearl. He definitely was not expecting you to actually ever address the comments he made every morning.
The things he would whisper, so cautiously and swift so no one else can notice; his hot breath seeping through the fabric of his mask, warming your neck and ear in the process. Alerting you on what he’d do to you if you gave him the chance. How he would strip you, tease you and taste you until every thought inside him was taken up by you. If only you gave him the opportunity, if only the two of you were alone and there was no risks.
His hand would fall to your waist every time you passed each other in the corridor- fingers tracing the smooth fabric of your skirt, threatening to dip lower and caress your thigh. He would tell you what he liked- complimenting your ass, your thighs; your divine figure. He would tell you what skirts were his favourite one and when you wore them the next day- he couldn't hold back his groan. You were just as bad though, feeding to the fire.
“You got any proof of that?” He asked.
-What?
“You seem a bit up your own arse, love. Wouldn’t you have brought it up already if I was breaking that many rules-” The slapping noise of your soft, palm hitting the wood of your desk shut him up instantly. Your hand stung from the force of the smack and it fuelled you more; gritting your teeth as your blood burnt hot. The fury inside you was agonising and you were done with his bullshit. His lies, his deflection and all the fucking teasing.
You were done with the way he’d throw you a shovel and watch as you dug yourself into a hole- you were done with how slimy and sly he was. A petty little cunt- a fucker. You were done with everything and for once in your life you didn’t care about the consequences. Your words cutting through the air like a bullet hitting glass, emotions spilling out with no time to process.
“Shut the hell up or get out of my office. You are pushing my buttons and you know it. You dirty fucking prick. You’ve broken almost every rule written because you think you’re so high and mighty. I don’t know what you smell of more- sweat or self-entitlement.” The vulgarity of your words and the sharpness to your voice jabbed and twisted something inside him. His eyes watched as you rose from your chair, your eyes shut as the irritation and pent up annoyance spewed out of you again.
It was so different, it was so different to how you usually were and it was making Simon feel so fucking different. His mouth ajar, listening as you insulted him, shamed on him, degraded him by calling him names; he should be fuming. He should be breaking at the sound of your meanness but holy shit- he was sparking. He was actually fucking cumming.
His cargos warm and eyes glossing over as he orgasmed from your harshness alone- stomach knotting with an unexpecting amount of pleasure. You opened your eyes to look into his- to show him how infuriating he was being and the affect it had on you. To shout at him and make him feel guilty for being difficult but the words fell flat on your tongue. The previous grit and frustration in your throat dying down as you noticed something wasn’t right.
You noticed the way he fought back the uncontrollable need and urge to rolling his eyes back in delight, struggling to keep contact with yours. You saw his body trembling with aftershocks he tried to hide and if you didn’t already catch drift of what just happened- the change in his breathing gave it away entirely.
You studied him, face and body frozen in disbelief- he could feel the embarrassment in his face and he knew you could spot the blush of his cheeks seeping through the bottom of his eyeholes.
He threw his head back against the chair with a sigh-like grunt, shoulders raising a little with every inhale and exhale. The bland, white office light caught his boxers shamefully, giving you a full view of the wet patch settled right above where his dick was. Its thickness and hardness still outlined against the material and you swallowed back your moan. Oh fuck, he really did cum.
The thought sent shivers down your back and suddenly you could feel every hair on your body rise as scenarios piled up in your head. Would he shiver and shake like that if you blew him? You chewed on the inside on your cheek, leaning against the desk to level yourself. You were losing the will to stay professional- fuck! He came to the sound of your voice alone.
Without moving his head from its lopped back position, his eyes flicked downwards to stare at you and catch your reaction. Expecting to see disgust, even more anger- maybe this time he would seriously get in trouble, but when he saw that look- that feeling- the unspoken desire and connection in the air between both of you.
He wasn’t leaving this office anytime soon.
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flicklikesstuff · 2 months ago
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Have you guys ever thought too hard about Crunchy Chip’s over-the-top avoidance of sweets? Because guess what?
I SURE did-
We all know that eating sweets in the Dark Cacao Kingdom isn’t as unforgivable as Chip makes it out to be. The citadel literally has some sweets stored that Fishgatto took in his benefit before.
Caramel Arrow’s fav drink is literally brown sugar milk tea (Like meeeee :D). Not even Dark Cacao himself is strict on it since he has given Chip a pass on the treats a number of times.
As far as I know, I believe no other Dark Cacao denizen is actually that strict on that rule? (I may be wrong idk)
So then, why is Chip like this?
…….
This is going into more theorising territory, but it’s been heavily implied that Chip has spent his entire life (if not ever since his childhood) in the wild. His voice lines point to this. He lives in the mountains, can set up camp by reflex, hunts with the pack, and overall just has a love for being outside.
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Also, most likely raised by wolves even? I feel like his story below was meant to be about how he first met and was saved by Dark Cacao since it parallels the bit when Wildberry shares how he first met and is taken in by Hollyberry. While it’s not stated how old he was in that time, I’m going to assume somewhat young enough near Wild’s age if we’re seeing the two stories as parallels?
(After all, this sequence is meant to show why these two cookies are the best, most loyal options to be entrusted with their monarch’s soul jam. It makes sense to me that they’re parallels of a first-meet.
AGAIN, this is my interpretation only!! This story could really be taken as something else too.)
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And I’ve been thinking. Assuming IF Chip has spent his childhood in the wild, he must’ve been isolated from cookie civilisation/cookie social circles for a period of time.
Until he was ‘saved’ and then taken in to train and become a warrior and Cream Wolf Captain. With his childhood spent not growing up in a typical cookie home and instead, his heart being always in tune with the wild more, there’s bound to be some dissociation with his fellow Dark Cacaoians.
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(This is also the guy who doesn’t know what a delegation is despite being a man in his mid 30s tops. Adding more into my theory that he’s somewhat detached from society.)
………..
Getting to the point, what if this isolation is the explanation? Chip has mentioned that his job has him needed at the kingdom’s borders, thus making him even more distant from other cookies.
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And even then, the others even agree so that his rightful place and the place he’s most expected to be in, is in the mountains.
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Not saying that this is a bad thing. Not at all! He loves his job. I’m sure Chip loves being in the mountains with his wolves. He’s mentioned how he’s missed and is fully content being there a bunch.
It’s just that…. Does he ever feel a longing to belong? After all, it’s an ingrained thing to desire connections. Not just with the wolves but also, with his very own people too. Does not growing up among other children cookies just like his other fellow warriors had, ever get to his head sometimes?
Does it ever make him feel….isolated and distant in a sense?
Unless, this could be fixed of course. He could really, really, really commit to the values every warrior should have. And Discipline is one of them! If he’s dedicated to the bit, then he could convince himself that he truly does belong and IS a Dark Cacao warrior.
He’ll prove it if he must! To the king, to the others, to himself!
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He feels the need to greatly appeal and prove to Dark Cacao so much that he does have a place in this kingdom after all. Why wouldn’t he? He’s kept strict to every rule and expectation, right??
If we consider that the theory he grew up isolated in the wild as a kid could be true, this means Chip has felt like an outsider ever since he could remember.
Being a Dark Cacaoian by blood/jam. But at the same time, still not fitting in. Its tough. (Not projecting nope.)
Btw, this may or may not reminded me of someone else….
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Mr. “Would rather be in the silence of the Royal Gardens than loud-ass parties and talking and I’m fully aware how weird that sounds coming from a Hollyberrian cookie.”
*coughs coughs*
Totally not spreading my Wildchip propaganda but I just thought it’d be neat if they talk about how they love their respective kingdoms and would die to serve them but also-also, it lowkey feels weird and kinda hurts to not actually fit in with your own fellow cookies. Also WHAT, you’re an orphan adopted by your Ancient too???
………….
So anyways, I probs dug too deep into what should’ve been a comedic trivial thing of a character and made it into a mini sad-fest. Whups.
Though, it could also be simply that Chip’s just really dedicated while silly about it buuuuuuuut, that’s not as fun to analyse.
TLDR: “I didn’t have normal childhood like other cookies so I sometimes feel like not truly belonging but that’s not true because I DEFINITELY am a Dark Cacao Warrior and I can prove it by overcommitting to the bit.”
Btw, Happy late Bday Crunchy Chip <3 🎉💖
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slvbum · 5 days ago
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01 — SHOW ME HOW ♡ Rafe Cameron!
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content WARNING: Policeman!Rafe × SingleMom!Reader, crying, stealing, money struggles, mentions of violence.
She had never stolen a thing in her life. Not a candy from a corner store, not a coin from her grandma’s jar. Her hands were clean, her conscience heavier than her empty pockets. But now, standing in the fluorescent-lit aisle of a rundown convenience store, her heart thumped so loud it drowned out the hum of the freezer. Two crumpled dollars sat in her jeans pocket—barely enough for a coffee, let alone the diapers and formula Anya needed. She hadn’t packed enough when she fled Jake’s house, just a duffel bag and her baby, running from the echo of his fist against the wall. Her lips moved silently, murmuring a prayer as she slipped the pack of diapers and a can of formula under her oversized sweater. The fabric, frayed and too big, swallowed her frame, but it couldn’t hide her trembling hands.
She was doing this for Anya.
Her seven-month-old was all that mattered, sleeping in the backseat of their beat-up sedan, probably hungry again. Her stomach twisted with guilt, but hunger and cold were worse than shame. The store’s bell jangled as she pushed through the door, the sound like a judge’s gavel branding her a thief. She tried to keep her cool, head down hair falling over her face, but her pulse raced. By the corner of her eye, she caught the glint of a police patrol car parked across the lot.
Her breath hitched.
The diapers and formula slipped from under her sweater, hitting the asphalt with a dull thud.
“Damn it,” she cursed under her breath, dropping to her knees to scoop them up. Her hands shook as she shoved the items back under her sweater.
She needed to hurry.
Jake was out there, somewhere, his truck’s rumble a constant threat in her nightmares. She couldn’t go back—not to his fists, his whiskey breath, his promises that always ended in pain.
A shadow fell over her.
Boots crunched on the gravel.
She glanced up, heart lurching as a policeman stepped out of the patrol car, his tall frame moving toward her.
“Oh my God,” she muttered, punching the stubborn door of her sedan.
The lock jammed, as it always did, and her fist against the metal startled Anya awake. The baby’s wail cut through the night mirroring Y/N’s panic.
She slid into the driver’s seat, pulling Anya’s car seat closer, whispering, “Shh, princess, it’s okay.”
But it wasn’t.
Her phone buzzed on the dashboard, Jake’s name flashing like a warning. She ignored it, her hands trembling as she tried to soothe Anya, whose cries only grew louder. A sharp knock on her window made her jump.
She was fucked.
She knew it before she even turned her head.
Swallowing hard, she rolled down the window, the cold night air hitting her tear-streaked face. The policeman stood there, his blue eyes sharp but softened with something like concern. He was young, maybe mid-twenties, with a jawline that could cut glass and a uniform that didn’t quite hide the rough edges of his posture.
“Ma’am, are you okay?” His voice was low, steady, but his gaze dropped to her hands, where the corner of the formula can peeked out, the security tag glaringly obvious. “I’m gonna need you to step out of the car.”
Her throat closed.
Anya’s cries mixed with the incessant buzzing of her phone—Jake, Jake, Jake. He could be here any second, his rage a storm she wouldn’t survive. Her vision blurred with tears as she clutched Anya’s blanket.
“I’m sorry,” she choked out, words tumbling over each other. “I didn’t—I needed… for her.” She gestured to Anya, her voice breaking. “He’s coming. He’s—”
Rafe tilted his head, his eyes narrowing as he clocked the phone, Jake’s name glowing like a threat. He’d seen this before, too many times at the station: women with bruised wrists and haunted eyes, men who thought love meant control. Her panic was a mirror to those cases, and it hit him somewhere deep, somewhere he didn’t let himself feel.
“Is that your husband?” he asked, nodding at the phone.
She nodded, tears spilling over.
“Yes, but… he’s not—he’ll find us. He’s mad, he’s always mad.” Her voice cracked, her hands shaking as she held Anya’s car seat like a lifeline.
Rafe exhaled, running a hand through his cropped hair. His own demons stirred—memories of his father’s shouting, his sister’s tears, his own fists bloody from fights he couldn’t win. He saw the diapers, the formula, the desperation in her eyes.
She wasn’t a criminal, just a mother cornered by life.
He’d bent rules before, looked the other way for less.
But this felt different.
“Look,” he said, his voice softer but firm. “I’m not gonna book you. But you can’t stay here.” He glanced at the phone, still buzzing. “You need to go to a shelter. There’s one near, down the road. And come to the station tomorrow. File a report, get a restraining order if you need it. Keep him away from you and your kid.”
Y/N blinked at him, tears streaking her face, her mind racing.
A cop letting her go?
She didn’t trust it, didn’t trust cops, or anyone, not after Jake. But his eyes held no cruelty, just a flicker of something raw, like he understood.
She nodded, wiping her face with her sleeve.
“Thank you,” she whispered, barely audible over Anya’s cries.
Rafe stepped back, his hand resting on his holster, not a threat but a habit.
“Go now,” he said. “And don’t do this again. I won’t be here next time.”
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ©slvbun — written with love.
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mallowsweetmiri · 1 year ago
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Strawberry Pie 🍓 ~ F.W.
Part 1 • Black Bikini
Summary: You’re staying at the burrow for the summer like you do every year. All is well expect for the fact that you kind of slept with your long time family friend, Fred Weasley.
Warnings: thigh riding, cursing, mentions of sex
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Your POV:
You woke up in Charlie Weasleys old bed to an unusual amount of chaos coming from a few floors below you. You groaned as you rubbed your eyes and stretched. The morning sun bathed your skin in warmth. You let out a content sigh as you closed your eyes once more. You loved being here, especially since you got Charlie’s old room, the best room. The window next to the bed looked out on the sprawling hills towards the east, a big tree sat in the middle of the view. Little birds chirped in the thick cover of leaves. You heard the patter of footsteps rapidly approaching your bedroom.
“Y/N!” The door busted open to reveal a bounding Hermione Granger with Ginny hot in pursuit behind her. Hermione threw open her arms and squealed as she jump onto your bed to tackle you with a hug.
“Granger! I didn’t know you were coming today, I would’ve gotten out of bed earlier,” you frowned as Ginny and her took seats on your bed.
“Sorry, I forgot to tell you yesterday. You know, too much sun at the beach and then I wasn’t allowed to hang out with you last night,” Ginny glared at you but you just laughed. Ginny couldn’t keep a straight face, but you knew that she really did want to hang out with you and twins last night. She was just too young for drinking games with the twins. And… oh Merlin.
Suddenly, you remembered what had happened last night. George had taken Ginny and Ron back to the house, leaving you and Fred alone on the hillside. One thing led to another and… well… you ending up naked with your oldest family friend.
“It’s okay! Now that you’re awake, we can start our day,” Hermiones voice tore you out of your thoughts.
“Okay, okay I’m getting up now,” you sat up straight and yawned, “what are we doing today?”
“Get dressed and meet us downstairs for breakfast,” she grinned, “we’re going strawberry picking.”
After Ginny and Hermione left your room, you quickly changed into a pair of jeans and a white cami. You checked yourself out in the mirror. You had definitely grown this past school year. The biggest difference was your chest which had filled out significantly in a just one school year. In fact, you really needed a new bra. But besides the physical side of things, you also just felt more mature. You swept your hair up into a loose pony tail, leaving your neck bare and exposed. You fell still as you saw a small purple blotch in the crevice of your neck.
“Shit,” you cursed, tying off your hair and reaching for your wand on the bedside table. You applied some glamour to your neck to hide the mark and then pulled out more than a few strands of your bangs to give you more coverage. You had forgotten that Fred was kissing you all over last night. You saw yourself blush at the thought. You continued to get ready like this. You started brushing you teeth and recalled opening your mouth for Fred last night. You applied lip balm and remembered his wet mouth in between your thighs. You walked downstairs and made yourself swear to stop thinking about it, but you wondered if Fred was in the kitchen too.
As you reached the bottom floor, you saw Molly cleaning in the kitchen and 5 seats taken at the dining room table. The Weasley children and Hermione sat around the table feasting on pancakes, sausage, eggs, potatoes, and toast with jam. You graciously thanked Molly before sitting down to get some grub of your own.
“Okay so after breakfast we’ll leave to walk to the fields. Definitely pack a hat or something to cover yourselves so nobody gets sunburnt. Also I was thinking that after we come back we could bake something with the strawberries,” Hermione spoke with incredible speed while simultaneously spreading apricot jam on her toast. Ron huffed out a smile and took a bite of his own breakfast.
“That sounds great ‘Mione. And while you girls cook, I’ll be taking a nap,” Ron said with a full mouth. Hermione turned to smack him on the arm causing the twins to laugh. Of course this made you look up, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Fred was wearing he wore a simple t-shirt, but it seemed like he was starting to grow out of it. You couldn’t fathom that the twins could grow anymore, they were already a full head taller than you. But there was Fred, leaned back nonchalantly in his chair. His hair had grown out slightly from the year away from home and his face seemed to be more dotted from the summer sun. He met you gaze and gave you a soft smile. You could’ve sworn he was blushing a little.
“What do you think Y/N?” Hermione turned to you to hear your opinion. You cleared your throat and ripped your eyes away from Fred’s.
“Erm- what were we talking about?” You asked with a sheepish half-grin. Hermione raised her eyebrow at you.
“What should we bake this afternoon?” She asked, sweeping her eyes to Fred as he sat back with a noticeable grin on his face. Merlin, couldn’t he keep that smile off his face for two seconds? It was hard to think.
“Hmm, strawberry pie,” you grinned as you sat up to bring your plate to the sink.
“Mm, that sounds simply divine,” George said in his best posh voice, standing up to join you by the sink. Fred gathered his plate as well.
“Indeed, George. That sounds delicious,” he crossed the kitchen to put his dish in the sink, “and I do like to have something sweet after dinner.” His arm brushed against yours. Immediately the contact made the hairs on your arm stand up. Since when did that happen? When did Fred start making you feel this type of way?
Maybe since his head was buried between my legs and he used his pretty mouth to give me the best orgasm of my life, you thought to yourself, making yourself blush a crimson shade of red. You cleared your throat and made your way onto the front porch. You sat down on the bench and began putting on your boots, you knew the fields would be muddy. The screen door swung open and Fred turned towards you with a half smile. As soon as you guys looked at each other, both your faces flushed red and you looked away. Fred took no time to recover and made his way over to sit next to you. Suddenly your boot zipper was extremely fascinating.
“I’m glad to see you up in this morning, Y/N. I was afraid the fire whiskey had gotten to you,” he teased, putting on his own boots.
“I don’t think it would’ve been the fire whiskey that took me out,” you mumbled, color running into your face again. At this point, you were sure you looked like a tomato, and you could hardly look up at Fred. You had a small moment of panic, what if last night ruined everything? Fred’s chuckle took you out of your doubts.
“Take a breathe, Y/N. You look like you’re about to faint,” Fred laughed as he took a look at your face. You smacked his arm and let out a breathe you didn’t realize you were holding. Your mouth couldn’t help but curve into a smile. That always seemed to happen around Fred. The two of you fell into a small silence as you both finished tying your boots. The door burst open as the rest of the gang piled out onto the porch to put their shoes on. You gathered some baskets and passed them around before the 6 of you set out towards the fields. They were right next to the burrow, but they spanned for acres. You and Fred naturally hung back from the group and strolled at a leisurely pace.
“Summers here are truly amazing,” you sighed, breathing in the fresh breeze. Fred smiled down at you.
“Truly, and I have a feeling this summer is going to be the best one yet,” Fred hummed as he veered right towards a particularly abundant bush.
“Oh yeah, and why is that Freddie?” You skipped up next to him and began picking berries. You figured you already knew the answer but you wanted to hear him say it. Half of your mind was still convinced that last night hadn’t happened at all.
“Well I told you, Y/N. I’m going to make you mine this summer,” he said this so casually, you almost didn’t hear him. You’d completely lost interest in the berries at this point.
“Fred,” you tested. You almost thought he was joking, but his face was dead serious. His expression was something you rarely saw on the face of a Weasley twin. “Are you serious?”
“Look at my face,” he said, pointing up at himself, “do I look like I’m joking.” He did not, but it only took about one second of his seriousness to cause both of you the keel over laughing. You dropped your basket which Fred promptly picked up for you. As you grabbed the basket from him, your eyes locked. It felt serious again.
“Fred, I don’t want to ruin anything while I’m here this summer. Even if last night was... I don’t want anything to go badly…” you trailed off, feeling vulnerable in front of your best friend. He only stepped closer to you and put his hand on your cheek. Even though he’d been inside you only last night, this felt more intimate than anything you’d done before.
“Just trust me, Y/N. Nothing is going to be ruined,” Fred whispered. His finger ran along your cheek, behind your ear, and down the side of your throat. He chuckled, “except maybe your neck.” You blushed and swatted his hand away.
“Can you see it? I thought I covered it this morning,” you grumbled, rubbing your neck as if to wash off the mark.
“I can only see it because I was looking for it. Don’t worry, you can keep up your little goody two shoes act,” Fred teased, flicking a strawberry your way. You rolled your eyes and smiled at his words. The two of began to walk toward the group once more. Ginny was laughing her ass off.
“What’s so funny?” You asked, strolling up next to Ginny. You soon saw why she was laughing. Ron was frowning, sinking into a mud hole, his boot stuck in the mush and filled with mud.
“He’s such an idiot,” Ginny barked, pointing at her brother. Hermione tried to stifle her laughs.
“Oh, come on now, Ginny. Let’s help Ron out,” George said, stepping up to grab Ron’s arm. Ginny grinned and grabbed his other hand.
“On three,” George said, “one… two… three!” The two of them tugged on Ron before releasing him back into the mud. He fell with an oof as the rest of you broke down in laughter.
“You guys are actually the worst,” Ron grumbled, throwing a handful of mud at Fred.
“Hey! What did I do?” Fred exclaimed, grabbing a handful of mud at slinging it at Ron.
“Oh, fuck,” Ron said as George pelted him with another handful. It took about 3 seconds before everyone was covered in mud, howling with laughter as you continued to pelt each other with mud pies. Your fun lasted all of two minutes before a shrill yell came from the house,
“What in Merlin’s name do you kids think you’re doing!”
Molly Weasley was marching out of the burrow and towards the strawberry fields. You all stopped. You let the mud slip out of your fingers and slop onto the ground.
“Come here right this instant!” She yelled, stomping her foot and pointing towards the ground she stood on. You looked towards Ginny who whispered, “oh shit.” The six of you started to head back towards the house, the twins grumbling to themselves.
“Its like she’s allergic to fun,” you heard George whisper, Fred laughing and elbowing him in the side.
“Seriously don’t make me laugh. We can’t get in trouble this summer,” Fred whispered back, earning an eye roll from George. His eyes looked back to you for a second, and you wondered if he knew about last night. He probably did.
“You kids are trouble! I thought you were going to go pick strawberries, not roll around in the mud!” Mrs. Weasley scolded, making Hermione drop her head in shame. “Go clean up in the pond-”
“But Mum! There are frogs in there!” Ron whined, earning a glare from his mother.
“I don’t care, you lot are a bunch of frogs. You’re not allowed back in the house until all the mud is off of you. You tried not to laugh at her sass as you walked towards the pond. Ron was grumbling to Ginny about this was her fault and Hermione looked like she was going to cry.
“Don’t worry, ‘Mione. She’s not really mad. Once we bake her a delicious pie she’ll forget all about this,” you smiled, putting a hand on her shoulder. She swallowed and nodded. That girl was too sweet for this world. The grass grew longer as you entered the shaded brush near the pond. You stripped your shoes off and waded into the water. It really wasn’t too disgusting, it was just warm. The twins followed after you.
“Watch out for the bullfrogs, Ron,” Fred teased.
“Yeah, we caught at least 5 of ‘em yesterday,” George added, stripping off his shirt. Next came Ginny and Hermione, who were mildly grossed out by the slime. Then Ron who looked disgusted. You chuckled to yourself as you sunk into the water, rubbing the mud off of your arms. Fred watched as you rubbed over your chest, his lips twitching at the corner. You sent a splash his way to deter him from looking which didn’t really work. Fred followed George’s suit and stripped his shirt off, the shaded lighting making him look absolutely divine. Fuck. You almost groaned at the sight and had to turn away to prevent yourself from drooling. Gods, you thought he looked good playing quidditch this year but seeing him shirtless and wet everyday this summer made you feel insane. After a few minutes of washing off all the mud, and a few splash fights, you guys headed back towards the burrow. One by one, you all cast drying spells on yourselves, and headed inside.
“Before we start the pie, I’m going to go change,” Hermione said with a face of disgust. While the pond got the mud off your clothes, you definitely reeked of dirt and sludge. You all murmured in agreement and headed upstairs to change. You got off on your floor, heading swiftly to your room.
Fred’s POV
I watched her go towards her room as me and George kept climbing up the stairs. She was going in there to change, to take off that little white tank top that was just soaking wet against her chest. Fuck. I had to keep my train of thought from wandering. I didn’t realize how difficult it was going to be to control myself after last night. After I saw her perfect tits bouncing while I fucked her and watched her face as she came and fuck. I didn’t even realize I had turned around and started back down the stairs and towards her room. I knocked on her door swiftly.
“Fred?” She asked when she opened the door.
“Can I, uh, come in?” I asked, smiling sheepishly at her. She nodded and moved to the side to let me in. I shut the door behind me and stood in front of her. She looked nervous, waiting for me to say something.
“Y/N, can I be honest,” I breathed out a chuckle, feeling slightly awkward in front of what used to be only my best friend.
“Of course, Fred,” she replied, holding her hands behind her back as she looked at me.
“I can’t stop thinking about you, uhm, after last night,” I admitted, feeling a relief as the words left my mouth. She let out a breath.
“I know how you feel,” she chuckled, moving towards me.
“I don’t even really know why I’m here,” I chuckled again, breathing in as she stepped closer again.
“Do you want to, I dunno…” she blushed, looking up at me expectantly. I wasted no time in closing the gap between our lips. I let my hands grip around her waist, making her gasp into my mouth. I pressed her against my body, wanting to feel all of her. I couldn’t get enough, I just wanted to take her to bed.
“Com’ere,” I breathed, falling to sit on the bed and pulling her with me. She groaned as she straddled my hips, sinking down and feeling my length through my jeans. I groaned and pressed her down against me. Her legs felt so good under my hands, her hips gently moving on top of me. I swiped my thumbs across the front of her hips, causing her to whine into my lips. Merlin, she sounded so sexy. I moved my leg under her and used my hands to guide her hip back and forth on top of my thigh. She threw her hand back with a moan.
“Shhh,” I shushed her, bouncing my leg up and down as she rode me. I brought my lips up to hers, causing her to fall closer to my chest. She whined into me, giving me the change to slip my tongue into her mouth. I pushed her back and forth on my leg, earning more pretty moans from her mouth. I felt her shudder on me as she pulled back.
“Fred, I’m so close,” she whined, her face falling into my shoulder. I kissed down her neck.
“That’s it, come for me darling,” I murmured, licking over her neck and rubbing her down on my leg in a faster rhythm. Her moans got muffled in my shoulder as she sped up her movements. I wanted to hear her while she came, but shushed her gently as a reminder. She whined quietly as she shuddered on top of me, her hips grinding slowly on my leg. I kissed her tenderly as I helped her ride out her high. “Such a good girl,” I whispered in her neck before kissing up the side of her jaw and towards her lips. We shared on last kiss before she pulled back, her lips curling up into a smile.
“Fuck,” she giggled, panting on my lap. I smirked back at her.
“Did you like that?” I asked cheekily. She blushed and nodded before burying her face in my shoulder. I laughed and picked her up, placing her on her feet. “You should probably get changed. We don’t wanna be late to the pie making party.” She chuckled and playfully shoved my chest.
“Then get out of my room so I can change,” she teased, rolling her eyes. My face fell into a half grin as I threw my hands up and started towards the door.
“Okay, okay, I’m going,” I protested, exiting out into the hallway. She smiled as she shut the door behind me. Once again, a permanent grin was plastered on my face as I walked up the stairs. I readjusted my pants before stepping into my room.
“Mate, are you and Y/N fucking?” George asked, fixing his hair and the mirror. I breathed out a laugh and shrugged, moving towards the closet to change.
“Oh, it’s so much more than that, Georgie. I think I’m in love,” I sighed, pulling a band tee off the hanger. George chucked and came over to clap me on the back.
“Good for you, brother. I knew it was going to happen this summer,” George smiled at me and I smiled back. He would always be my number one wing man.
“Thanks, George. You mind helping me out with something? I have a plan,” I grinned. He grinned back at me.
“Count me in.”
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archangeldyke-all · 4 months ago
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hello sweet girl? how’s your weekend been so far? i hope you’ve been absolutely wonderful this past week! 🩷
i just finished reading your sweet, fluffy sevika fic and i loveeeed it!! Uggh I love you so much and your creative mind!! You’re such a talented angel! Thank you so much for all the sevika content you share with us!
How would you feel about writing something sweet that turns very smutty, hehe? Reader and Sevika are having a sweet romantic moment, maybe Sevika starts to pepper Reader’s face in kisses to make her giggle and then it turns dirty very fast after they realize how turned on they are and how much the love each other??
Bonus Points if it’s CEO Sev!!!
No pressure if you’re not the in mood for this!! Thank you so so much for everything you’ve already created for us! You’re a blessing!! 🥰
i was thinking about this ask all last night it's so cute heheeh
men and minors dni
a few weeks ago, while the two of you were renovating your new home, sevika broke her finger, jamming it between two piles of lumber.
the good news it was on her left hand. the bad news is that to get the swelling down and wrap the finger properly, the doctors had to cut sevika's wedding band off.
she was more upset about the ring than she was her finger, pouting at you while the doctors hooked her up to a steady stream of morphine. "'m so sorry." she whispered. you laughed and cupped her face.
"it's alright baby, we'll just get you a new one."
"but i wan' everyone to know i'm married all the time." she whined.
you giggled and kissed away her tears. "everyone does know that baby. we're really horrible at keeping the pda away from the office."
sevika snorted and puckered her lips, demanding a kiss. you couldn't deny her.
you've been scouring local jewelry shops for a ring suitable for your love ever since then. and now, six weeks later, sevika's officially healed and a package from the jeweler you decided on is sitting on your office desk.
you gasp as you walk into your office. your wife blinks up from her computer.
"whatcha got? another dildo?" she teases. you giggle and reach for your letter opener, breaking the tape seal and tearing open the cardboard.
"something way better than a dildo, baby."
sevika scoffs. "doubt that."
you chuckle and shake your head, quickly checking your planner to make sure she's free from meetings for the rest of the afternoon before pulling the small black velvet box out of the pile of packing peanuts.
sevika's shifted her focus back to her computer, typing away as she answers emails.
for a moment, you just study her. despite the fluorescent lighting of your office and the unflattering blue-grey glow of her computer screen, sevika still manages to look like an angel. you can't believe how lucky you are to have her. the money and status that comes with her job is nice and all, but you'd still be this fiercely in love with the woman in any life.
she must feel your eyes on her, because sevika's typing comes to a halt and she blinks up from her screen to look at you, a smile blooming on her features as she catches your eyes.
"what're you lookin' at?" she asks.
you chuckle and shrug. sevika proposed to you when you got engaged. now it's your turn. "y'know you're the most incredible woman i know?"
sevika raises a suspicious eyebrow at you. "you know other women?"
you laugh and circle around your desks, pulling sevika out from her spot and sitting in her lap. "i know many other women. and none of them have ever come close to making me feel the way you make me feel." you continue. sevika hums.
"are you propositioning me?" she teases again. you laugh.
"not yet. but soon."
sevika's brow furrows in confusion. you kiss the little wrinkles that form between her eyebrows before revealing the ring box to her. she gasps, then laughs. "my ring! gimmie gimmie!" she squawks, lunging for your box. you giggle and hand her the box.
sevika's smile grows ten times in size when she sees the simple gold band.
she's never been one for flashy, so you decided to keep your choice classic. it's almost identical to her old one, only this one has a special little secret.
"look on the inside, baby." you whisper. sevika squints her eyes, trying to make out the inscription. you snort. "where the hell are your glasses?"
"i hate those things, baby, they make me look like a nerd!"
"well too bad!" you pull open her desk drawer and gasp in triumph, placing the frames on her nose gently. sevika pouts up at you and you kiss her lower lip. "hottest nerd in the world." you say. she snorts, then turns her attention back to the ring.
to the moon and back again. it reads.
sevika takes a shaky breath, then she looks up at you. "put it on me?" she whispers.
you nod, taking sevika's hand in your own, gently pushing the band down her freshly healed finger.
"there. now we're married again." you tease.
sevika lets out a watery laugh, tucking her face against your shoulder. "it's beautiful."
"not as beautiful as y--" sevika shuts you up with a flurry of kisses all over your face, making you burst into laughter.
she pulls away with a big cheesy smile, tears brimming in her eyes. "i'd marry you again and again, every single day if i could."
"i can't believe people think you're scary." you tease.
sevika laughs and kisses you again, something gentle and sweet. you hum against her lips, reaching up to curl your hands in the lapel of her blazer.
sevika responds with a hum, her hands trailing lower to grip your hips and rearrange you on her lap so you're properly straddling her. you groan as your tongues meet, then pull away with a gasp. "we're at work." you remind her.
sevika hums. "so we'll keep our clothes on."
"our office is made of glass, sev!" you giggle.
sevika pulls your hips so you grind against the growing hardness in her pants. you let out a shaky sigh as she starts to trail kisses up your throat. "we can be fast."
"do you have extra pants in your desk?"
sevika chuckles as she pulls open her bottom drawer, revealing at least half a dozen folded pair of dress pants. you cackle. "i'm always ready for you, baby." she promises.
"you're a maniac. i adore you." you giggle as you sit forward to kiss her more.
sevika hums and spins her desk chair so the tall back is facing the glass walls leading to your office, and your back is facing the sparkling city skyline.
you giggle into one another's mouths as you kiss, and sevika's hands travel from your hips to your ass, slowly grinding you against her lap. with each motion of your hips, you crush your body closer and closer to hers, until your tits are squished together and your cunt is grinding on her hard cock. sevika muffles her moans into your mouth, smacking your ass as you move. you chuckle and pull away, looking down at your wife with love.
"so pretty." you whisper, cupping her face. sevika moans aloud. you duck down to muffle your giggle against her shoulder. "quiet, sev, seamus' cubicle is right outside."
"your fuckin' fault, callin' me pretty."
"you are. you're fuckin' gorgeous. could look at you for a million years and still be enchanted by you." sevika whimpers, biting your clothed shoulder to hide the worst of her moans. you laugh. "don't drool on me, this is silk."
"i bought this shirt for you, i'll drool on it as much as i want."
you kiss her scalp and wrap your arms around her shoulders, increasing your pace on her lap. sevika's thighs start to quiver underneath you. "y' gonna cum for me, baby?" you ask. sevika whimpers again.
"n-no." she lies. you laugh. "fuck off! i just-- you first." she demands. you giggle and shake your head 'no.' sevika squakws. "fuck do you mean 'no!?'"
"i mean, wouldn't it be hotter if i was just walkin' around all wet and ready for you the rest of the day? 'n when we get home, all you'll have to do is get me inside and get my pants down around my ankles and sink right into me--"
sevika cuts you off with a loud moan, shivering in her seat as she cums in her pants. you laugh and pepper her face with kisses, pulling your hips up before her cum can soak through her pants and into yours. "you're a fuckin' sex demon or something." sevika whines.
you laugh and kiss her again. "fucked you so good you can't even remember the word 'succubus.' and i still got all my clothes on!" you giggle, proud of yourself.
sevika rolls her eyes, pouting as you stand from her chair. "don't make fun of me. i'm your wife. and your boss." her pout slowly disappears as you walk toward her desk and pull open the bottom drawer, picking out a nice pair of dark purple pants that will compliment her light blue button up.
"here, darling." you hand her the pants. sevika grins up at you. "what're you gonna do if someone asks what happened to your tan pants?" you ask.
sevika chuckles and shrugs. "tell 'em my wife bought me a ring so beautiful i came in my pants about it."
you cackle and smack her shoulder, melting a bit as she joins in on your laughter. "you better not, you freak. tell 'em you spilled coffee or something."
kofi
taglist!
@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner
@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther
@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart
@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette @ellieslob
@xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp @iamastar
@sevikitty @butchchase @nhaaauyen @notlores @mirconreadzztuff22
@veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @strawberrykidneystone @vkumi
@fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25 @sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown
@ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite @biblicalcrybaby @blackgaladriel @nightlyconfusion
@dancingqu33n17 @losernb @p1nkearth
taglist!!
@sevikas-baby @ghostscandys @sevikasllver @runawaybaby3 @lesbones
@chezze-its @lez-zuha @vikashoneybee @shanesevikasfuckdoll @imheadintothemountains
@ferxanda @helaenabugmom @spookymomfriendtm @leeidk87 @cinnamowor1d
394 notes · View notes
akawifeyy · 5 months ago
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so american | smau (OP81)
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description: you might not be australian, but oscar piastri loves you just the same.
tropes: yapper x listener, he falls first and harder, celebrity actress!fem!reader (you’re the daughter of matt damon, please tell me you all know who he is)
face claim: addison rae
trigger warnings: suggestive content, swearing
| note: sorry for the long wait between posts, i'm not feeling the best right now and i've also had a jam-packed schedule. but anyways! here you go! this is based on ♪ so american / olivia rodrigo, which is one of my fave songs of all time :)
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@ f1gossip: The daughter of Matt Damon, Y/N, is reportedly dating McLaren's F1 driver, Oscar Piastri. Thoughts?
tagged: @ f1, @ f1yaps, @ f1talk
comments (5862):
@ user1: she's so pretty omg 😭
-> @ user2: First thought was, "She's everything, and he's just Ken." Y/N is absolutely gorgeous.
@ user3: even though i've been an oscar girlie since day 1, i support this. if this is real, i wish them the best of luck <3
@ f1yaps: Has a hot new WAG entered the paddock? Only time will tell
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@ yourusername: howdy, cota 🤠 had a great time
tagged: @ f1, @ mattdamon, @ yourbffusername
@ user4: prettiest cowgirl there is 🤎
@ oscarpiastri: It was nice meeting you!
-> @ yourusername: ditto! hoping to buy tickets for las vegas :)
@ user5: Why is Oscar lowkey lurking in the comments... 🤨
-> @ user6: read @ f1gossip's most recent post
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@ yn.updates: during an interview for her upcoming movie, "riptide", y/n was asked about the gossip concerning her and mclaren f1 driver oscar piastri. with a big smile, she replied, "he seems like a great guy, but let's be for real. i've met him one time. let's not get too far ahead, please!"
tagged: @ yourusername, @ oscarpiastri, @ f1, & 2 more
comments (1257):
@ user7: That dress is stunning 😩
@ user8: they'd be cute together as a couple ngl. i'd love to see more of them
-> @ user8: but, they deserve their privacy
@ user9: ynoscar is adorable ❤️❤️
Text messages between Oscar and Y/N (2025):
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@ yourusername: las vegas was a hit! congrats to the papaya boys, p2 and p3
tagged: @ f1, @ mclaren, @ oscarpiastri, @ landonorris
comments (9374):
@ yourbffusername: super cool! miss you xoxo
-> @ yourusername: miss you too, i'll be back home soon 💗
@ user10: Twinklaren tagged!!
@ oscarpiastri: Thanks for coming!
-> @ yourusername: of course, i wouldn't miss it for the world 😁
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comments (539):
@ user5: Have any of you seen Oscar's most recent Insta story?
-> @ user11: the way i ran to check and SCREAMED 😳
-> @ user5: IK, they are so evil for soft-launching, they're torturing us. *Sobs*
Oscar's Instagram Story:
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comments (7521):
@ yourusername: might not be good at legos but it was still fun being with you!
@ user12: ADORABLE 🥰
@ user8: how does it feel to live my dream 😞
Press Conference Interview Excerpt with Oscar (2025):
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Interviewer: Congratulations on your podium in Qatar, Oscar! We noticed a special someone was missing, would you like to tell us more about them?
Oscar (smiling): If the special someone is Y/N Damon, you wouldn't be wrong. She means a lot to me, and I'm very lucky to be with her. Anyways, she sadly wasn't able to make it because she is back in America for the time being. She's about to have her red carpet debut for her movie, "Riptide"! I saw a few clips from it and she does a flawless job.
Interviewer: Is this an acknowledgement of the relationship between the two of you?
Oscar: Yeah.
Interviewer: How long have the two of you been together?
Oscar: A few weeks after COTA.
Interviewer: Well, best of luck to the new couple!
Text messages between Oscar and Y/N (2025):
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@ oscarpiastri: What a way to end 2025! See you all next year
tagged: @ landonorris, @ f1, @ mclaren, @ yourusername
comments (4898):
@ user13: ahhh omg y/n mention!! 🥹
-> @ user14: They're so cute
-> @ user9: best couple in a long time
@ landonorris: Always glad to be with you, mate
-> @ oscarpiastri: 2026 three-peat is on its way!
@ yourusername: so so proud of you 🥳
-> @ oscarpiastri: Thank you, I'm proud of you too. Can't wait to be with you again 😘
─── ୨୧ ─── THE END ─── ୨୧ ───
587 notes · View notes
giuseppe-yuki · 8 months ago
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birthday celebration?
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normal!max verstappen x billionaire!reader
w.c.: 3.8k
warnings: suggestive material, curse words, danica patrick (?), sassy and jimmy slander (sorry i love them irl i promise)
part of my money, money, money!universe
summary: yesterday was max's birthday. the press wants to know: you guys went all out to celebrate, right?
a/n: so yesterday was actually my birthday 🤭 i tried my best to post this before it hit 12 as a birthday treat for y'all, but it didn't really work out... consider this a late birthday post + max 4 wdc celebration :)
p.s. this is NOT the money, money, money spinoff that i promised- i'm working on that i swear🤞🥲
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picture credits from pinterest :)
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to say the driveway up to the gala building was crowded was an understatement. if you looked out the window of the very expensive rolls royce you were currently seated in, you could spot at least five rosso corsa ferraris and like, three jet black lamborghinis within a meter from you. to be honest, you had to give props to your private driver, daniil, because there was no way you could have strategically maneuvered the car onto the jam-packed road without causing a rather exorbitant pileup of supercars. next to you, on the plush leather seats, was your boyfriend in his freshly pressed, custom fitted suit that you had your assistant buy just for the event. he sits there politely with his hands folded together, wide blue eyes blinking at you innocently. he looked mighty handsome, and if you weren’t currently sitting in a car with a billion cars, paparazzi, and influential figures right outside, you certainly would have done some not-so-appropriate things to max right then and there.
instead of doing said things and traumatizing your poor private driver, you quickly glance at your phone. 
a bold 5:10 flashes across the screen, in front of your lockscreen of max curled up in bed with jimmy and sassy. 
shit. 
you were scheduled to do some press stuff outside the event around 5:20, and had to be inside by 5:45. if the queue of cars of ahead of you didn’t hurry up, you would probably be late, and it wouldn’t be a good thing if the ceo of redbull herself was late to her own redbull gala. 
max, like the sweet, observant boyfriend that he is, peers down at his own phone, notes the time, then tilts his head at you. 
“do you want to just run up to the entrance?” he asks, pocketing his phone. “i’m sure it’s not too far, and i don’t want you to be late for your pr stuff!” 
that didn’t sound like a bad idea. 
after notifying daniil, you and max slip out of the vehicle, much to the surprise of the people in the cars around you. once you squeeze out of the crowd of exotic cars onto the sidewalk, max takes your hand and bolts his way towards the grandly decorated stairs of the gala in the distance. 
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unfortunately, you might have misjudged the distance to the entrance, because you both end up a little moist from sweat by the time your heeled feet reach the red carpet-lined stone stairs that lead up to open double doors- the entrance to the gala. lining the stairs are multiple cameras and interviewers, met-gala style. you are sure these are the pr interviews that your assistant was talking about, judging by the sprinkle of red-bull sponsored athletes chit-chatting to a few press members along the stairs and groups of photographers sending off bright flashes with their high-tech cameras. to your right, a man you recognize as sergio perez nods slowly as his interviewer animatedly gestures to a picture of sergio diving into what looks like a pool with a mexican flag wrapped around him. directly in front of you stands daniel ricciardo posing in different silly positions, much to the delight of the gossip magazine paparazzis that were probably having a field day photographing him. next to you, max ecstatically pulls on your dress and points to your left to the esports content creator, ludwig, who laughs loudly to your left as he banters with an excited looking man with a rather large microphone in hand. you haven’t really looked into ludwig’s content, but you often saw max watching his streams while you were in your online meetings, so if he liked ludwig, you guess you did too. 
you attempt to quickly pull max towards the top of the stairs towards the entrance to the gala in an effort to completely avoid doing your media duties, but you are unfortunately stopped within the next twenty seconds by your own interviewer, a lady in the brightest pink outfit you had ever seen in your life.
“heLLO!” the lady says rather enthusiastically. “danica patrick, reporting for tmz!”
“er, hi!” you respond, a little less enthusiastically. max, half-hidden behind you, gives a light wave to the camera. 
unperturbed, she flashes you both a toothy, unnaturally white smile at you both and places a microphone towards her glossy lips. 
“so, miss redbull ceo! it’s so nice to meet you!” she remarks, “and you look absolutely flawless today!” 
you give her and the camera a tight smile. 
“thank you,” you respond, as if you didn’t have two drops of sweat going down your neck and a slightly dirt-dusted gown from the sprint from your car. 
she nods, and then as if just realizing max’s presence, snatches him out from his half-hidden position behind you. 
“and you!” she exclaims, looking max up and down.  “you must be the boyfriend! max-” she checks her notes- “verstappen! yes, i’ve heard so much about you!” 
your boyfriend blinks at her, nervously twiddling the redbull pin that was pinned to his lapel. 
“okay,” he says after a beat of silence. 
the lady nods, and scribbles something down in her notes as if max had something absolutely life-changing, before turning back to you. 
“so, i’ve received the news that yesterday was max’s birthday,” she proclaims. “and i was just wondering what’d you guys did to celebrate! as a successful ceo, you must have went all out, huh?”
seriously? you think. what of question is this? you get to interview a ceo and this is the best thing you can come up with?
when you hesitate a second before answering, she probes, “rumor has it that you both went to bora bora yesterday...” 
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as if it knew that today was your boyfriend’s birthday, the bright rays of the monaco sun shined a golden beam of light straight onto max’s hair, lighting the blondish-brown strands into a little halo around his head. even if it feels like a creep to just stare at his peaceful face, you can’t help but gaze a little too long at his pouty lips, long eyelashes, and light stubble. from the corner of your eye, you can see one of his devilish cats balancing precariously on the bedframe. you clock it as sassy, who you knew, unfortunately from experience, loved to pounce on max’s face in the morning when she was feeling a little hungry. sassy meows at you innocently before proceeding to crouch in a position, ready to pounce. jimmy watches at the end of the bed, doing absolutely nothing as you fight for your life trying to wave sassy away without waking up max. 
like the absolute devil sassy is, she leaps off the bedframe, claws extended, right at max. with your lightning quick reflexes that should earn you a seat in the redbull f1 team that your company sponsors, you snatch the bengal cat out of the air before she gets a chance to maul your boyfriend and send him to the emergency room on his birthday. 
she hisses at you, teeth bared, and you just about catapult her out of the open window next to the bed.
instead, you take a deep breath. you deduce that max probably wouldn’t like to wake up finding out that his cat was a pancake on the streets below his apartment, probably ran over by someone’s ferrari pista. instead, you opt for a less extreme “fuck you,” that you hiss right back at sassy. 
like he sensed someone threatening his baby, your boyfriend shifts around. 
“whadyou say?” max mutters from the pillows behind you.
you whip back to face your boyfriend, simultaneously shoving sassy away from you. 
max rubs his eyes sleepily and uses a hand to block the sun that now shines into his eyes. you try not to stare again at his eyes that light a warm whisky brown in the beams of sunlight that seep through his fingers. it cannot be legal to look this good.
“nothing,” you dismiss. 
leaping forward, you wrap your arms around him in a hug.
a surprised look crosses his face, but he leans into your embrace anyways. 
“do you know what day it is, maxie?” you ask, voice a little muffled from being pressed into the crook of his neck. 
max takes a shockingly long time to respond. 
“um… saturday?” he says slowly.
you give him a weird look. 
“well yes…but it’s also your birthday!” you exclaim.
“oh!” he laughs, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “i totally forgot!”
“no way,” you say incredulously.
“yes way,” max replies, tucking you into his side with an arm around you. 
leave it up to your boyfriend to forget his own birthday. 
“well,” you state after a beat of silence of looking at the popcorn ceiling of his apartment. “good thing we still have, like, sixteen hours left to do whatever you want- and we basically have unlimited budget- so go crazy!” 
“hmm,” he says. 
“anywhere you’d like, really- bali, the hamptons, paris, dubai, maldives, bora bora,” you suggest helpfully. “or all of them?”
max thinks for second. 
“how about monaco?”
you blink confusedly. 
“so… right here?” 
“yeah,” he responds. 
you shrug. 
“sure, that’s fine too!”
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deborah, or danica, or whatever her name was, babbles on as you and max stand on the stairs awkwardly.
“an inside source has also relayed to us that you might have bought your boyfriend an abt audi rs6, legacy edition for his birthday- an insanely rare and expensive car which only has 200 made in the entire world! 
an abt-legacy what? you can’t help but think, what the hell was that? 
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once you get dolled up with your 12-step get-ready process and max pulls on his usual clothes (white shirt + unfortunate-looking skinny jeans), you both hop in max’s trusty little yellow renault clio rs. of course, like the cat lover he was, max refused to accept any expensive material gifts from you, and instead requested to visit the cat shelter as a birthday “gift.” you guess you would probably have to return the tag heuer watch in your bedside drawer that you had gotten him plus the keys to that yacht that was currently sitting in the monaco bay that you thought he would like. 
max whistles a cheerful tune as he types in the cat shelter address onto his phone’s navigation app as you try your best to think of the best way to approach your assistant and tell him to return the yacht that he might have spent the last week negotiating with some old rich prick to buy. his phone makes a small “ding” and prompts him to back out of the tiny garage underneath his apartment, which he does with surprising ease. the ride to the shelter is pretty smooth, except that tiny part where this dumb guy with an all-black ferrari with a red ‘16’ on the side runs the red light, almost t-bones your boyfriend, and then proceeds to stop diagonally in the middle of the road with the most rancid parking job. 
your boyfriend walks into the cat shelter with you in tow. he passes right past the front desk, waves to the man playing sudoku on his phone, and then proceeds navigates the halls like he’s been there a million times. (actually, he might have) you pass row after row of cats in little kennels that your boyfriend somehow knows the names of, before coming to a stop in front of a young lady filling little formula bottles with milk. she has at least three cats worth of cat fur all over her paw-print sweater.
“max!” she remarks, looking a little too thrilled to see him. “how are you? i haven't seen you since, like, last tuesday!” 
looking to you, her smile drops significantly. 
“oh, and… who is this?” 
“hi, i’m max’s girlfriend,” you articulate, answering her question. you reach your hand out to shake, but she pointedly ignores it. 
“great…” she says fakely. “um, so how may i help you guys?” 
max seems to not notice. instead, he has a wide smile pasted on his face. 
“well, it’s actually my birthday today, and i would like to spread kindness by making a donation to my favorite cat shelter!” he announces. 
ten minutes later, you find yourself signing a check that is made out for the ‘monaco meow manor.’ 
max twiddles his pen around his fingers.
“how much should i put it down as?” he asks, pen hovering above the empty line on the check.
you shrug. 
“i don’t know, it’s your birthday, maxie. you choose.” 
the lady who was obviously into max and the sudoku guy at the front eyes the both of you from their place at the front desk. 
you watch as max writes down a 3300 on the piece of paper. he glances at you quickly. when you raise an eyebrow at him, he turns back and adds two more zeroes at the end. but, then he proceeds to place the commas all wrong. 
“that says 3,300,00, max,” you say, pointing to the obviously misplaced commas. 
“oh,” he says. “i can’t really erase it- it’s pen.”
the lady, whose scowl has disappeared, and the guy, who sudoku puzzle has long been abandoned, whips around after hearing this number, jaws dropped. 
ignoring them, you take the pen from max’s hand. 
“here,” you say, adding another neat zero to the end of max’s blocky numbers so it reads 3,300,000. 
“okay, great, thanks!” your boyfriend says, pressing a kiss to your cheek. 
he then turns to the lady and hands her the check. 
“here’s the check. i hope all the kitties in here can all live long healthy lives and get everything they ever need!” 
the two people at the desk look like they are about to pass out. 
the lady clutches at the check with a white-knuckled hand and profusely thanks the pair of you. 
you fight the urge to roll your eyes. oh, now she pays attention to you. 
max, oblivious, beams, before taking your hand and leading you back out to his little yellow car. 
“helping the kitties- check!” he declares. 
you can’t help but smile and pull max into a searing kiss in front of the little cat shelter that was about to become the best-funded feline sanctuary in monaco, and most likely france too. 
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you don’t even have a chance to respond to danica’s inquiry about the complicated-sounding car that you supposedly “bought” for max before she rambles on.
“i bet you bought your little boyfriend the most luxurious foods too!” she spouts. “wagyu beef, spaghetti with saffron, caviar- ooh! maybe a glass of moët?”
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“i’m not telling youuuuu!” max trills, leaping around the tiny living room of his monaco apartment with his phone held high above his head. 
you don’t know whether to start raging in annoyance from your place on the scraggly carpet or to laugh at your boyfriend twirling on the lumpy sofa, phone screen purposely held away from you. jimmy only aggravates the situation by butting his head directly at your shin. 
“max! is it a crime to want know what we are going to eat for dinner??” you shout, exasperated. 
max somehow does a perfect pirouette off of the sofa (???) and smiles at you. 
“no, but it should be a crime to look so pretty,” he says, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. you try and bat him away, but he is faster. he leaps up, cackling, and bolts away. his apartment isn’t that big, just his kitchen, living room, and his single bedroom, so you take your time hoisting yourself off the carpet. you resist the urge to punt jimmy away from your shin like a football, and instead gingerly step over him before sprinting over to max’s bedroom. 
he awaits behind his bedroom door, and literally tackles you to his bed, pinning you underneath him.
its hard to stay mad at max when he’s giggling like a little kid and looking at you with those impossibly blue eyes that crinkled in the corners while he laughs. 
“i hate you,” you say with no heat. 
“mhm, i’m sure you do,” he says, all the sudden sobering up. he leans his head down and nips at your neck. 
you both know where this always leads. 
max’s white shirt disappears within seconds like the sight of a f1 car by the grandstands, and soon enough, yours does too. 
before you can do anything, though, the doorbell rings. 
your boyfriend pulls off of you, albeit hesitantly. 
“foods here, i guess,” he says, pulling his shirt back on like he wasn’t about to whip off his pants two seconds ago. 
you roll your eyes as max goes to fetch the food while you get presentable again. 
when you pad into the kitchen, you genuinely expect to see the world’s best chef tossing vegetables a meter in the air, considering how secretive max was about the birthday dinner you both were having. 
instead, max sits at the table with a ripped bag that displays a tell-tale green ubereats sticker, along with a few black plastic boxes that takes up half of the table space. 
your boyfriend rips the lids off with a flourish, showing you the contents. 
“my favoriteeeeeeee!” he chirps, gesturing to thin slices of beef carpaccio laid out prettily in the container, fragrant tomato soup in another plastic bowl, and two cupcakes.
it was kind of a weird combination, but hey, if max liked it, you weren’t gonna argue with it. 
you grab utensils for the both of you, and dig in. 
when the dregs of the tomato soup is all that's left in your bowl, the beef carpaccio is reduced to a few stray capers and lemon juice, and the wrapper is all that’s left of the cupcake, you lay back contently in your chair. 
“you know, “ you state, “i could’ve flyed in the best beef carpaccio maker in the world, the best tomato soup chef ever, and like, gordon ramsey for the cupcakes and had them make this for you.”
“eh,” he says, also laying back in his seat, feeling full and happy, “ubereats from the restaurant three blocks down is honestly just as good too.” 
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danica was still not done. 
“the parties must have been wild for max's birthday, too!” she raves. “with your influence, i bet all the celebs were there! kim k, rihanna, carlos alcaraz, oprah winfrey, lebron james, johnny depp, billie ellish- shall i go on?
no, you think to yourself. no, you shouldn’t.
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feeling content, you flop onto max’s bed. your boyfriend slides onto the mattress next to you, allowing you to snuggle into his soft body. you inhale the smell of his cologne, and a feeling of content drapes over your body like a warm blanket. 
“happy birthday, again, max,” you mutter, voice muffled in his chest. you slowly slide a hand suggestively into his shirt. 
“thanks,” he says. he pauses a moment before getting up, effectively making your hand drop out.  “i think i’d like to play a video game right now.”
“oh,” is all you can think to say. you loved your boyfriend very much, but sometimes he just could not understand context clues. 
“are you sure?” you ask as he sets up his gaming system, loading in f123. “we could do something else…” you trail off slowly, seeing if he could pick up what you were putting down. 
“yeah,” he says, eyes trained on the tv. he scrolls through a bunch of men in racing suits, and you spot a like, two with your company’s sign, big and bold, across their chest. huh, you kind of forgot your company sponsored f1. you squint your eyes at the white lettering displaying their names- sergio perez and daniel ricciardo. they seemed like pretty successful dudes, looking at their stats. max clicks on daniel’s profile, and jumps back onto the bed next to you as the loading screen pops up, still oblivious to your intentions. 
you let him zoom through a track named mug jello or something like that for the better half of an hour before making another move, since it was his birthday, after all. 
“do you want to watch netflix and... chill?” you suggest, nudging max. 
“one second,” he responds, as the stopwatch thing at the side of the screen turns entirely purple. a checkered flag fills the screen, and the guy with the redbull racing suit appears, drinking champagne out of a shoe. “woohoo!” he says, beaming down at you, who has now draped yourself over his lap. “i won!”
you blink at him. how was being in his lap not obvious enough?
“oh, yeah, sure, we can watch a movie.” he says hurriedly, misjudging the seriously? look on your face. 
max gently moves you out of his lap as he changes the tv channels to netflix. 
when he turns back around, you have your shirt off, sitting suggestively on the bed. 
your boyfriend laughs. 
“is it really that hot in the room? i can turn on the ac if you want,” he offers helpfully. 
reaching over, he opens his window, effectively blasting your semi-naked body with a blast of cold monaco wind that frequented the coast at night. you swear to god, if you get sick tomorrow-
you finally give up your attempts after max switches on a film called “crazy rich asians.” you snuggle into him innocently as the movie starts, and honestly, the beginning is kind of good. 
you are right in the middle of the scene where the movie’s main character, rachel, is getting a makeover by her friend, peik lin, and her ridiculous family when you catch max staring at you.
“hey, baby,” he whisper-yells, nudging you. 
“mmm?” you respond, fully intrigued as Rachel tries on dress after dress. 
“do you want to..?” 
you don’t really comprehend what he is saying as you are too focused on an intense emotional scene that pops up on the screen. 
“huh?” you say distractedly.
max’s mouth latches to your neck. 
you manage to tear your eyes away from the screen to realize what max is doing. 
oh.
you notice are still shirtless and your boyfriends hands were now wandering to places that were not so family-friendly. 
damn it, you curse silently, the movie was just getting good!
still, you can’t help to give in to max’s urges.
pretty soon, the screen glazes over in black. a prompt pops up: are you still watching?
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the brunette interviewer beams at you and max, awaiting a response. the microphone that she holds is shoved a little too close to your face for comfort. seeing your silent form, her face drops into a scowl.
“no comment?” she sniffs in disdain. 
turning to max, she prods the microphone towards his lips. 
“you?” she snaps.
your boyfriend shrugs.
“all i can say is that my birthday yesterday was simply lovely.”
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formulafanfics13 · 11 days ago
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loved ‘just sit on his lap’ would you please make another with Lando x reader x Carlos. Reader is with one of them and they went to pick up the other or myb helping them moving and reader has to sit on her bfs best friends lap in the back sit. The road is bumpyyy. So they practically dry hump all the way. Thn the bf confronts them and they all Fuck nasty 💦
Not Enough Room - CS55 & LN4 🔥
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Masterlist
Summary: A cramped moving-day car ride turns into a threesome in the backseat when Carlos gets hard under you and Lando pulls over, too jealous to let it slide. The result? You get fucked and worshipped by both of them — one possessive, one hungry — until you can’t move.
Warnings: Explicit sexual content, threesome (mfm), public sex, car sex, slight voyeurism and jealousy kink, possessiveness, oral (f receiving), vaginal sex, light power dynamics, rough sex, multiple orgasms, cum play, dirty talk, overstimulation.
It was supposed to be a simple day. A favour. A chill Saturday. You and Lando helping Carlos move some final things out of his old apartment into his new place just outside of Monaco. A few boxes. A mattress. No big deal. Except… Carlos packed too much.
And Lando’s car, while flashy as fuck, has terrible space in the back. Which means once the boxes are loaded and the seats pushed down, there’s only one spot left in the back seat. And it’s not even a seat. It’s Carlos. Legs spread. Boxes to his right. A duffel to his left. A backpack jammed somewhere under his feet. Lando looks at you helplessly from the driver’s seat.
“You’ll have to sit on him,” he says, already starting the engine. Carlos smirks.
You blink. “On him?”
“There’s no other room, cariño,” Carlos says with an innocent shrug. “Come on. I’ll keep my hands to myself.”
Lando snorts. “Yeah, okay.”
You shoot him a glare, but he’s already pulling away from the curb.So you slide in. Right onto Carlos’s lap.
At first it’s fine. Awkward, but fine. You try to lean slightly forward, bracing yourself on the seat in front of you. Carlos shifts underneath you, trying to make room, trying not to react. But the car is cramped. The engine purrs. And every bump in the road jolts you just rightagainst the denim-covered ridge pressing beneath you.
You tense. Try to readjust. Try to ignore the way Carlos exhales slowly. Lando keeps driving. He’s talking about the next race. Something about logistics. You hear the words, but they’re floating past you like white noise. Because Carlos shifts again. His thighs spread a little wider.
And now your ass is pressed right against him. Hard. Throbbing. “Shit,” Carlos murmurs in your ear. “I’m so sorry.”
You feel his hands twitch against the seat. He’s trying not to touch you. Trying so hard.
You roll your hips, just once, just slightly, and feel him stiffen beneath you.
Lando glances at you in the rearview mirror. You’re flushed. Carlos looks like he’s about to die. “What’s going on back there?” Lando asks.
You try to speak. Carlos groans. Lando pulls the car over.
The tires crunch against gravel as he throws it into park on some deserted road just outside the city. Then he turns in his seat. Slowly. His expression unreadable. “You two having fun?”
Carlos swears in Spanish under his breath. You’re still on his lap, thighs clenched, heat radiating from your core like a goddamn fire.
“Lando-”
“Getting in the back.”
You blink. “I’m already-”
“No. Me.” He opens his door. Slams it behind him. Seconds later, he’s throwing boxes over into the drivers seat and when theres enough foom, he climbs into the backseat beside you, voice low and dark and jealous as fuck. “If you’re gonna fuck my girl with your dick hard in her ass,” he says to Carlos, “you’re not doing it behind my back.”
Your breath catches. Carlos meets Lando’s gaze. No apology. Just heat. “I didn’t mean to-”
“But you liked it,” Lando cuts in. “Didn’t you?”
Carlos nods slowly. Lando looks at you. “And you?”
You’re already writhing. “Please.” That’s all it takes.
Clothes vanish. Carlos slides you onto your back on the middle seat, Lando pressed to your side, kissing your neck, whispering “you like this? Being shared? Letting him see what I do to you?”
Carlos’s hands are on your thighs, spreading you open. His mouth hovers above your cunt. “Can I?” he asks, voice rough.
Lando answers for you. “Make her scream.”
Carlos does. His mouth is filthy. Experienced. Hungry. Lando strokes himself slowly beside you, eyes locked on the way your hips jerk, the way your fingers tangle in Carlos’s hair. He kisses you hard as Carlos makes you come, once, twice, too fast to count, and then pulls away, lips wet, pupils blown. “She’s perfect,” Carlos breathes.
“I know,” Lando groans. Then he flips you over. “Let me show you how I fuck her,” he says to Carlos, voice wild. He slides into you from behind, hand tangled in your hair, eyes locked with Carlos’s as you moan and beg and sob for more. Carlos kisses you through it, slow and possessive, while Lando ruins you from behind.
Then Lando pulls out. “Your turn.”
Carlos doesn’t hesitate. Fucks you slow. Deep. Worships every inch. Lando watches. Jacks himself beside you. Groaning when Carlos makes you come again, whispering “so fucking tight, baby, so fucking good.” And when you’re gasping, wrecked, unable to take more, Lando finishes across your back. Carlos follows, spilling inside you with a growl and a kiss to your throat.
You collapse between them. Lando breathes hard. Carlos strokes your thigh. Silence.
Then “…Still gonna help me unpack?” Carlos asks.
Lando groans. You laugh.
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luveline · 10 months ago
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oh my god. steve harrington with a dreamy/luna lovegood like girlfriend would be so sweet! i feel like he would love how she’s always so kind and her head’s always in the clouds. he’d find her adorable, especially when she out of nowhere says something a little odd.
“What was that?” Steve asks. 
You aren’t talking to him, but he pretends you were. 
“I said, the sun doesn’t look very happy today.” 
Steve finds the sun, a white ache in his eyes behind a buffet of clouds. “I can’t tell.”
“Exactly.” 
Steve gets his arms under your armpits to drag you into his chest. You’re always content to be moved around, especially if it’s Steve doing the lifting. You slot yourself into his embrace unthinking. 
“I think you’d be much happier if you had a couch on the porch,” you say, “though maybe you’d suddenly like rock metal too. What do you think they have it for?” 
“Not sure. Afternoon people watching, maybe.” 
“Well, this is fun.” 
Eddie and Robin attempt to set up the sprinkler and water slide in the grass. Neither seems to have noticed that it’s too cold for this sort of play, both dedicated to the last day of summer. Usually you entertain either of them, partial to nonsense, but today you’ve stuck by Steve’s side. Probably because you’re cold. 
“I might get one, if you want one,” he says. 
“You know you can get a couch from the Salvation Army for ten bucks.” 
“And the bedbugs for free.” 
You laugh loudly, suddenly, before it chokes into a fizzy sort of giggle. “Most bugs are cute, but they give me the heebies.” 
“I don’t need any more strange creatures in bed with me, either way.” 
“You mean me.” You turn in his arms. He loves to feel it, your skin under his hands, the total ease you feel being smushed against him like two pieces of bread in the same pack. You jam yourself against him, your fingers working behind his neck. Cold. Rings tickling him, your fingernails scratching gently. “But I’m not a creature,” you murmur, “and I won’t be in your bed again, if that’s how you feel.” 
“Then who will help you fall asleep?” he asks. 
“I volunteer!” Eddie calls. 
“He looks like he gives a good back rub,” you say. 
Steve tips you away from him. “Idiot.” 
“Steve, doesn’t he?” you ask. “Eddie, come over here and rub our backs.” 
“Stay where you are,” Steve says to Eddie firmly. He pushes you away from him, trying his best not to laugh as you giggle and whine at being pushed. “Get lost.” 
“I’m going to take my shirt off now.” 
“For the back rub?” Steve asks, whiplashed. 
“No, doofus, for the water slide! Why would I take my shirt off for a back rub?” 
“I’ll show you why.” 
“I already know you’re good at them,” you say. 
“I’ll show you again.” 
You pause. A smile stretches over your lips. “Mm, okay.” 
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