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reidrum · 1 year ago

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like i would | s.r

pairing: spencer reid x bau!fem!reader

a/n: ok im gonna be honest idk how i feel about this one, i just wanted to finish it and put it out so apologies in advance if its not the best lol. this was requested with the prompt "i bet he can't fuck you like i can"! feedback and reblogs are always appreciated ! thanks for being paitent while i got this one out <3

cw: 18+ minors dni, smut, fingering, munch!spencer, jealous!spencer, unprotected p in v (wrap it before you whack it), reader's bf has a name which i hate in fics but its so hard to write this trope without a name so, afab!reader,

summary: a confession about your sex life makes it's way to the one person you'd hope wouldn't hear, and now he's determined to rectify the way you've been wronged

wc: 4.5k

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you were a great asset to the bau. it was why you were personally recommended by emily to transfer out of sex crimes, the skill set you brought alongside the field training you had proved to be vital for the team’s success lately. you were also a great asset to the team. the bau was notorious for having people turnover fast, and you knew they were apprehensive with newcomers. but you managed to hit it off with every single member, one more than others.

spencer reid did not expect someone like you to join the team. not that he didn’t have faith in your talents and skills, he’s read your file and obviously knows you’re more than qualified to be here. he just did not expect someone who looked like you to join the team, someone who didn’t look beaten down by the horrors of the world and still believed in pots of gold at the end of rainbows.

it didn’t help that you were so beautiful he literally would feel his heart ache when you walked in. like literally, would have to rub his chest to soothe the pain. and as spencer would, he would logic out his feelings with science because that’s all they are, scientific chemical reactions in the body. but what he felt in your friendship, what he felt when he was lucky enough to be in your presence, was something no textbook, theorem, or equation could explain.

so imagine the size of the fucking hammer coming down on his head when he finds out you have a boyfriend who: 1. is not him, and 2. is an actual real life bozo.

apparently you’d been seeing damon from organized crime for about a month now, that’s what he heard from penelope, and you ‘claim’ to be super happy.

spencer doesn’t buy it.

he’s seen the way your ‘relationship’ operates, and he’s got the facts to back it up. damon never lets you get a word in when you’re in group settings, even purposefully talking over you when you’re clearly attempting to speak. majority of the time he’s condescending about your job as a profiler for the bau, saying that him and his team bring down drug rings, but you guys ‘just read their horoscope or whatever and decide the killer.’

it made spencer’s blood boil hotter than the sun. he couldn’t figure out why you put up with it, and why you continue to.

the final straw that broke the camel's back about his disapproval on your relationship choices, is what he overheard on the jet one time on the way back from a case.

the girls were talking in the back of the jet, unaware of spencer’s very awake mind despite his visibly sleeping body.

“i don’t know guys,” you had started with a sigh, “you think it’s weird right?”

“that your own boyfriend won’t go down on you? yeah hon, that’s fucking weird.” emily strikes.

“what did he say exactly?” jj asked.

“he said it increases the risk of STIs on the mouth? and doesn’t like the feeling of thighs crushing his head? and that even with all the … grooming … it’s still unnatural ?”

emily gagged while jj continued, “um…but do you like…on him?”

“yes! he literally won’t touch me unless i do!” you rage whisper.

“i am about to give him an organized crime to deal with,” emily half jokes, “what an asshole, why are you still with him?”

“i don’t know, he’s still nice to me i guess, and maybe i’m just being dramatic. or maybe i’m just not someone people go down on, who knows.” you sigh.

spencer stops listening, he can’t hear you talk so poorly of yourself. not when it’s so far from the truth yet you’ve been indoctrinated to think it’s accurate. how anyone could take advantage of you like that is beyond him, but it did light a fire inside of him and made him determined to help you realize you deserve so much better. if that happens to be him, then who is he to fight that?

—

spencer doesn’t get his chance to prove it to you for another two weeks, when you’d come over to his apartment for a movie night after getting in a fight with damon, your date night being canceled and leading you to spencer’s doorsteps, all dolled up with tears lining your eyes asking to come in.

he doesn’t even have time to be mad at your shithole boyfriend when he’s ushering you inside, offering you to sit on the couch while he goes and put a kettle on the stove for tea.

“i’m really sorry to just show up like this, spence.”

he doesn’t even blink before calling out from the kitchen, “don’t apologize, i’m always here for you. anytime and anywhere.”

you give him a soft smile before returning your gaze to the soft glow of doctor who.

he returns cradling two mugs in one hand and a pack of haribo gummies in the other. spencer doesn’t care for gummies, he’s more of a chocolate guy, but he knows it’s your favorite. so he makes sure to keep a couple bags in his apartment for you.

“my favorite!” you gush. his heart warms at your smile as he sits next to you on the couch. you naturally gravitate towards him to lean your head on his shoulder, and it’s automatic for spencer to wrap an arm around your shoulders to pull you closer.

the whirs and whooshes of the tardis fill the silence for the next hour as you visibly become calmer than when you first arrived. he decides this is a good time to ask, “do you want to talk about it?” as he turns his head to look at you.

“i don’t know,” you say quietly popping another gummy in, “i’m starting to believe it's just a me problem. like, maybe i’m just objectively not a great partner, and that’s why we keep getting in these fights. you know this time, he said i’m not worth all the effort and stress i bring him and that because of me he’s gonna bald at 29? i’m not a scientist like you or anything but even i know that, at least, can’t be my fault.” you end with a chuckle.

spencer knows he should probably comfort you in this time of honesty you’ve graced him with, squash your insecurities like a pesky bug on the windshield, and tell you how beautiful you are in as many words it’ll take for you to believe it (and he knows a lot of words).

but right now? he’s just fucking pissed.

not at you, never at you. at your situation, yes. at that sorry excuse of a partner let alone agent, immensely.

so he can’t help what escapes his mouth next, “why do you let yourself get treated like shit?”

you look up at him in surprise, at both the cursing and what he said, “what?”

“you’re constantly talking about how awful he treats you, and yet everyday you still go back to him knowing it’s going to repeat the next day. i just want to know why you don’t respect yourself enough to not let that happen to you.”

pulling away to sit far from him on the couch, you start letting the annoyance show on your face, “spencer, that’s not fair at all. you think it’s my fault? do you really think i want to feel like this?”

“yes!” he shouts, “you seem like you do with how much you crawl back to him everytime, and everytime you let him back in.”

“okay, i think i should go,” you stand up and grab your things, “it was a mistake to come here, goodbye spencer.”

he grabs your wrist before you can get too far, “i just have to know, what is it?”

“what’s what spence, let me go.”

“what keeps you going back to him, it can’t be because you love him. it’s obviously not because you’re happy with him,” he lets out.

“you don’t know anything about me or my life, spencer!” you snatch away your arm and start heading towards the door.

“it’s definitely not because the sex is good, because i know it’s not.”

any emotion you had on your face wipes away like an etch a sketch, staring blankly at the door, hearing the man you’ve harbored a crush on since you started at the bureau years ago, telling you he knows your sex life is abysmal.

your voice comes out small, “h- how would you know that?” you don’t dare to turn around, knowing that if you did any resolve you held onto, any denial of emotions you’ve stripped from yourself would come pouring out like a broken dam.

the couch groans at a loss of weight, and the floorboards creak closer and closer to you.

“i heard you, on the jet.”

you’re especially glad he can’t see the blood draining from your face. if your heart already wasn’t at your feet, it’s most likely six feet under at this point.

he heard you?

“when you were talking with the others about how he doesn’t reciprocate, and won’t sleep with you unless you get him off.” he continues.

the room is getting hotter by the millisecond, temperature about to be comparable to the sun’s core. it’s one thing to have just anyone hear the intimate details of your life, but spencer? the man to which you’d been using damon to get over?

the only sound that can be heard is your increasingly heavy breathing, and spencer feels like he’s caught a fish on his line and is ready to reel you in as he inches closer to you.

“you’re okay with that? not being taken care of in the way you deserve?”

his presence is merely nanometers behind you, the ghost of his fingers looking for landing on your hips. when you don’t move away, and he hears your breath hitch at the contact, he sets his hands more earnestly on your curves as he leans down to the nape of your neck.

“just don’t know,” kiss, “how anyone,” kiss, “wouldn’t want,” kiss, “to give you everything.” kiss.

your head lolls back onto his firm chest as he whispers in your ear, “cat got your tongue, sweetheart? you were so mouthy not even five minutes ago. be honest with me, has he even ever made you come?”

the whimpers escape you without warning and you find a single decibel of voice to speak, “spencer…” hoping the whine would dissuade him to let it go.

“uh uh, i asked you a question,” his arm tightens around the front of your waist to press back and fully feel him, “answer me.”

your lexicon has depleted except for the one word you know he’s desperately waiting for you to say, and the one he knows is the answer. yet you know the second it leaves your mouth, everything changes. and maybe you’re okay with that.

“no.”

spencer hums lowly, “has anyone made you come?”

“no.” you say again, softer this time.

“should we change that?”

this was not what you expected when you came to see him after your failed night out. the amount of processing you’d done in the last year to essentially not be thinking about spencer 24/7 was extensive. and you were ready to render it all useless in a matter of seconds.

so you let the strap of your bag fall down your arm and hit the ground with a thud, and finally turned around to look the good doctor in his eyes. while his voice held traces of anger and frustration, you came to see his eyes were full of reassurance and comfort, the spence you always knew to prioritize your wellbeing more than anything.

he looked down at you and slid his hand to up to cup your jaw, and he hears the smallest murmur, so delicate yet so full of want leave your lips.

“yes.”

that was all spencer needed to catch your lips in a heated kiss, moving your body to the closest wall as he places a hand behind your head to protect you from the wall’s impact while the other pins your waist to the wall.

you move your arms to wrap around his neck and keep him pinned to you with no escape, like he’d ever want to. his lips detach from yours and make a descent towards your neck again, taking deliberate effort to locate the sensitive spots.

he finds one just behind your ear and spends time sucking and bruising up the spot, relishing in the soft whimpers leaving your mouth. while you’re lost in the sensation on your neck, you don’t notice spencer move one of his hands closer to the button of your pants, effortlessly (and impressively) opening it up.

detaching from your neck with a heavy pant, he moves back to lean against your forehead with his own and look you in the eyes to ask, “is this okay? we can stop if you want, i didn’t mean to be so forw-“

“please don’t stop.”

he searches your eyes for any conflict and finds none, considering it the okay to continue his downward descent. he returns his lips to the second home they’ve made on your lips and starts to push your pants down over the curve of your ass, leaving your panties on.

the flash of purple lace underwear glares at him when he glances down, and suddenly he remembers what got him in this position in the first place.

“were you wearing this for him?” he lets out condescendingly, “you really think he deserved to see you like this?”

spencer’s fingers brush against your front, leaving your heavy breaths hitting him in the face. you can’t think of anything to say. hell, you’re not even sure if you know any words right now. all you can offer is a pathetic moan, and spencer doesn’t think that’s enough.

“come on, don’t get all shy now. what were you expecting him to even do, hm? thought you said he didn’t care about making you feel good.” he taunts as his middle finger traces the outlines of your cunt through your panties.

you shudder at the contact, leaning your head back against the wall as he refuses to break eye contact. he’s waiting for you to say something, raising his eyebrows expectantly as he’s slowed down his movements on you. taking a shallow breath you open your mouth, “h-, he didn’t care, just thought if i ke-, kept looking nice he’d wanna, fuck, do something.” you moan out.

“and did he?” he moved his hand back up to slowly slip into your panties.

his finger dips all the way down to your entrance to gather your wetness and spread it all the way back up to your clit, your mouth dropping open as you let out a whiny, “no.”

“what a shame.” he dips a finger into your hole and you let out a pornographic moan.

he drags his finger in and out slowly making sure to watch your face as it contorts in pleasure. once he feels you’ve gotten used to it he slips in a second finger, increasing the pace and moving his thumb to circle your clit again.

“oh fuck,” you cry.

“baby, you’re so tight.” he whispers. the way you clenched around his two digits made feel almost pussy drunk, and he wasn’t even inside you yet. he starts to wonder if damon was doing anything really to prioritize your pleasure, and it only just worked him up more. he felt more determined to bring you to finish, so he picks up the pace and increases the pressure on your clit.

you drop your head to his shoulder no longer being able to hold yourself up anymore, the sensation of his fingers on you taking over, loose whimpers and moans falling out of your mouth every other second.

“spencer…shit, i’m gonna come…”

“let go for me, baby.” he whispers in your ear.

the pleasure barrels through you like a wrecking ball, knocking the wind out of your mind and body. your legs turn into jelly and you almost fall before spencer holds you up. you try to regulate your breathing into his shoulder, hoping to calm down before you look up and meet his eyes again.

he makes that choice for you when he gingerly lifts your head up, his eyes silently asking if you’re okay. you don’t even bother responding before softly pressing your lips to his again, hoping he can feel your response to his silent question.

the kiss picks up in urgency, and soon his hands are back to exploring your body again. they slide down to the backs of your thighs while he murmurs a small, “jump.” and lifts you to wrap your legs around his waist. without breaking the kiss he walks you both to his bedroom and places you on his bed with care.

his fists flank you on both sides as he leans down to kiss you, and he moves further down kissing along your neck and chest. you reach down to the bottom of your top to pull it over your head, leaving you in the purple lacy bra that matches your panties.

he detaches from you and stands at full height, gazing at the sight of you spread out on his bed with your hair framing you like a halo. he can’t even help himself when he says, “you look so beautiful, angel.” the blush rises to your cheeks, and you beckon him to come back down to which he happily obliges.

spencer moves down further towards your hips, and his lips ghost over the lace band spreading along your waist. his fingers play with the fabric and he moves his face to be directly in line with your clothed cunt. your breathing gets heavy, and you anticipate what he’s about to do.

“wait, you don’t, you don’t have to do that, spence. i already came.” starting to feel a bit guilty at the man above you potentially feeling obligated to do this, as you realize that if he heard you on the jet, he heard about the one thing damon refused to do for you.

“sweetheart, i’d love to keep making you feel good as long as you let me, okay? you gonna let me make you feel good?” he breaths, pressing chaste kisses to your inner thighs.

you give a slight nod and he gently pulls your panties off your legs, marveling at the light glistening off your cunt. he kisses up the plush of your thighs before pausing right where you need him the most. you look down at him and meet his unwavering eyes full of love.

he places a long kiss to your core before licking a long stripe. you moan out languishly, the euphoric feeling taking over every sense in your body. you’re unable to comprehend how you went so long without feeling this, it almost feels criminal. and the way spencer was eating you out, felt like this was doing it for him too even though you were the one getting pleasured.

it turned you on even more to know he was getting off on how much you were enjoying this. your head was spinning off into another realm, and the only thing tethering you to this reality was the grip of your hands in his hair. his tongue made circles and shapes all over your cunt before dipping down to thrust into your hole.

your thighs shake and threaten to clamp shut on his head, and he uses his wide hands to wrap around your thighs to hold them in place. “oh my god fuck, that feels so good…spence…please..” you’re not even sure what you’re begging for, but of course, spencer does when he adds a finger into your hole and moves his tongue to focus back on your clit. the combined sensations were enough to tip you over the edge for the second time tonight, your release glistening on his chin as he moved back up to kiss your lips again.

your heavy panting tries to bring you back down from your high, a mix of sweat and the taste of you lingering everywhere.

spencer smooths your hair back as he moves his body to lie next to you, “i think, damon’s a fucking loser, if he doesn’t think that’s worth doing.” he says between pants.

you hum in agreement, or just in acknowledgement at whatever he said since you’re still reeling from the endorphin release. hiking your leg over his body to straddle him, you clumsily reach for his belt and attempt to undo the clasps to reach his growing member. you pull his pants down and palm him through his boxers, reveling in the broken moans falling from his mouth. you start inching downwards when spencer grabs you by the forearms and flips you over so you’re back on the bed staring up at him.

“not tonight, sweetheart. it’s about you right now, wanna make sure you know what you deserve.”

“but…” you pathetically respond.

“i don’t know what that neanderthal tells you, but sex is not transactional. i think if i ever see that guy again, i’d punch him for making you think otherwise.”

the words go straight to your core, turning you on even more. spencer takes note of how your pupils widen and your chin tilts up towards him.

“besides,” he presses his crotch to yours, “the sex wasn’t even that good with him, right?”

you moan out again, unable to find words to satisfy his question. he leans back up and off the bed to fully remove his boxers and you finally get a good look at what was underneath.

holy fuck, he was huge. you propped yourself on your forearms to get a better look at him, and watched as he lazily stroked himself while he sauntered back over to you. the image was so lewd, you hoped you could borrow some of his eidetic memory so you could hold on to this moment forever.

his face held a smug smirk at your awestruck one, and he felt his ego inflate even higher, “by the looks of your reaction, i’m guessing he’s never been much of a, challenge, for you in bed has he?”

you dumbly shake your head no, “definitely not as big as you.” you whisper, more to yourself than him.

his smirk grows wider, “don’t worry, baby, i’ll take real good care of you.” he says as he climbs over you to line himself up to your entrance.

you feel him slowly start to push in, the sensation of being split open growing bigger by the second. your brows furrow and your eyes are shut tight as you wait for the pressure to turn into pleasure.

if spencer thought you around his fingers had him pussydrunk, what he’s feeling now has to be close to pussy poisoning or something because he cannot think of anything in existence that feels as good as the walls of your cunt clenching around his cock. it’s taking everything in him to not break, to just fuck you senseless and reach his peak.

once his hips are flush with yours and he’s fully settled within you, he waits for you to give him the okay to move.

you, on the other hand, have never felt more full ever. damon was not nearly this big, nor has any other guy you’ve been with. it’s a bit of a miracle on how it fit inside you, and how it felt better than anything you could’ve imagined. the pressure and slight pain subsides, and with a slight nod spencer takes the cue to start moving.

the first thrust has you both moaning out in harmony together, and he sets the pace nice and slow so as to make sure you’re comfortable.

but it's not enough for you, you need him to fuck you.

“spence…harder.”

he stills at your word, leaning up so he’s perpendicular to you.

“whatever you say, princess.”

and he starts pounding into you, hips rutting at a pace you can’t even keep up with. the whimpers and moans gush out as the familiar coil begins to build within you. he taps your leg to lift it up over his shoulder to allow him deeper access, and he’s able to reach that one spot you’d heard about from all your friends, on reddit, in movies. you had no idea this type of feeling even existed, and spencer was hitting it with precision every single thrust over and over.

“fuck,” you whine.

“that feel good, baby?” he teases, “the way you’re squeezing my cock so tight, i doubt that fucker ever made you feel like this, huh?”

your tits bounce with every thrust, and the deepened angle has you reaching your climax fast. spencer feels it too and drops his head to whisper in your ear.

“i bet he’s never fucked you like this,” he continues his taunt, “he’d never be able to fuck you like i can, make you come three times in one night like i can.”

you whimper, “spencer,”

“say it, sweetheart. say no one’s ever fucked you like me.”

he was trying to kill you, death during intercourse would be a crazy way to go out but it’s a fate you’d be willing to accept. nonetheless, you comply.

“never ever, fuck, been fucked like you, baby.”

spencer has never felt more satisfied, “good girl, now come.” and with a final thrust he lets you reach your peak as he releases himself into you.

in the midst of groans he gingerly pulls out of you and you whimper at the loss.

the next few minutes are just filled with the sounds of yours and his heavy breathing, before spencer leans over to you, “was that too much?”

still in your daze you let out a soft giggle, “spencer, i think you’ve ruined all men for me.”

he smiles back, “i meant what i said, damon’s really stupid if he’s not willing to do all that for you.”

you intertwine your hand with his, “you know, i never really liked him anyway. i was just using him to get over you.”

“me?” he says incredulously.

you nod, “i didn’t know if you would’ve felt the same so i just tried to move on to someone else, stupid i know, but i don’t know it made sense then.”

he pulls you closer to rest in the crevice of his chest, “i have been into you since the day you walked into the bullpen, and letting you slip through my fingers is a mistake i will never make again.”

you hug him tightly before groaning out loud, “shit, i have to tell damon it’s over now don’t i.”

“i mean, i could tell him if you want.”

“spence, no. i think you might kill him.” you laugh, “i can do it, i just don’t want him to get all ‘organized crime’ on me.”

“just tell him i have a gun.”

“so does he?”

“mine’s bigger.” he smirks.

you roll your eyes, “well, yes.”

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astonmartinii · 23 days ago

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Sex and the City, chapter one: monte carlo meet-whoops | formula one social media au

pairing: 2025 f1 grid x fem columnist reader

never mix worth with pleasure… or maybe do, but expect it to trip you up at the worst moments

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

note: drivers are not in a relationship unless explicitly stated in this universe

SEX AND THE CITY: WE’RE GOING TO MONTE CARLO…

by y/n y/ln

Despite moving to Monte Carlo a number of years ago, I have never ventured to the Monaco Grand Prix. Perhaps it’s been short-sighted as a sex columnist to forgo the event on the European social calendar where everyone who is anyone is there -

But fear not, I intend to rectify these mistakes!

The past couple of years I have found myself on the other side of the pond at this crucial stretch of the year and have missed out on high society and the opportunity to explore them, I mean it…

The world of Formula One is fast and doesn’t often wait for those standing around. But I want to know, do they fall in love as fast as they drive?

I had a dalliance with a Formula One driver when I first moved to the Principality. Honey Badger had a big smile and a big personality and that’s not where the big theme finished. Maybe his life on track taught him to make the most of opportunities, or maybe handling something as sensitive as a Formula One car gave him an eye for technique…

In Formula One, most if not all drivers will tell you that finishing first is the only way to finish the weekend. But outside of the car, Honey Badger wholly rebuked this notion. Where he would gladly sacrifice a teammate or screw over a friend on track, off track he was the most generous partner I have ever had.

But I couldn’t help but think… are all drivers this generous? Or does a life jet-setting across the continents leave you with a hefty salary and even bigger commitment issues?

I never wanted anything serious with Honey Badger, but I don’t think it would’ve been an option if even I wanted to. Formula One drivers, in my experience, are attached to their careers while they still have them and don’t have time for things as trivial as long-term relationships - especially if you’re not willing to live life in the paddock with them.

So ladies, this weekend in the jewel of Southern France, don’t get your heart broken looking for the one on track, but let them show you what it’s like to live life in the fast lane.

yourusername

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 304,871 others

yourusername: guess who is finally at home for the monaco grand prix? this little lady right here! you can read my column on the place to be this weekend on my website and in The Times (in whatever country you’re in) xxx

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user1: yes! i’ve been waiting for this one

user2: oh if only i could afford to go to monaco

user3: how i feel after reading any of y/n’s columns

user4: that should be me by justin on repeat

user5: i always wonder how she affords all of this

user6: maybe she’s yachting? she’s at all the events where it happens

yourusername: i have never yachted and i don’t intend to, sorry to burst your bubble!

user7: okay queen but the math ain’t mathing

yourusername: my money is between me and my accountant not random people on instagram

yukitsunoda0511: oh so when you said you had a fling with a daniel i might know you meant my LITERAL TEAMMATE DANIEL RICCIARDO?

yourusername: you know i’ve never been good with last names?

yukitsunoda0511: ‘hey a daniel you might know is featuring in my next column, just so you’re ready’ is not clear enough

yourusername: you should know me by now little sous chef

yukitsunoda0511: i should but you continue to shock me every time

yourusername: i’m taking that as a compliment

user8: i’m sorry she slept with DANIEL RICCIARDO ???

user9: and confirmed he is PACKING

user10: the way she says she doesn’t know anything about f1 but has slept with one of the most iconic drivers

user11: and lowkey shaded him? ‘attached to their careers while they have them’?

user12: she lowkey didn’t lie

danielricciardo: a cameo in sex and the city… you flatter me

yourusername: oh please, honey badger. you always knew your feature was coming at some point

danielricciardo: enjoy the race, i promise it’s usually more exciting

danielricciardo: and if you’re open to recently retired drivers let me know

user13: HOW DOES SHE HAVE THIS MUCH GAME WITHOUT TRYING?

user14: read the column girl and you’ll know

The thing is, they really weren’t lying when they said that Monaco is the jewel of the F1 season… everyone is dressed to the nines in brands as difficult to say as they are to purchase and you can’t go two ft without being offered yet another flute of champagne.

I am aware this is nothing to complain about, but by midday on Friday, it was hampering my ability to act like a normal person and my vision, which was 20/20 last time I checked. I know it’s bad because there’s no way the man I had affectionately dubbed Glastonbury was walking towards me in a quite garish orange race suit.

In a cute and aloof way, Glastonbury does just as vicious a double take as I and trips over his feet. He looks up at me. At first I think he’s happy to see me, but then something else flickers across his face. Maybe he was snapping himself back into action, maybe I had seen a flash of jealousy or maybe the champagne was doing more damage than expected…

I was wholly unaware Glastonbury was a Formula One driver… his physique had always been impressive but based on how many times I had been ushered out of his apartment for a padel session ‘with the boys’, what else was I supposed to expect?

I thought back to my column before the weekend, could he seriously be jealous over my involvement with Honey Badger? That had been dead in the water for a long time, but maybe the flirting in Instagram comments had been a bit much - but, hey! When you have as good a time as I have with Honey Badger, you don’t quite block yourself from a return there…

estebanocon

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 295,603 others

tagged: yourusername & flavybarla

estebanocon: bring your weird friend to work day today in monaco

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user16: just how many of these bitches does she know?

user17: LMAO the way it’s all coming out this weekend

user18: she’s honestly living her best life and i love that for her

yourusername: weird??? i think you mean unsettling but a hell of a fun time

estebanocon: that’s one way to put it

flavybarla: he loves you really, he’s just still shocked about who honey badger is…

estebanocon: you slept with my teammate and didn’t tell me!!!

yourusername: i don’t think he was your teammate at the time?

estebanocon: wait when did it happen

yourusername: all i know it was summertime in 2021, he had won a race and begged to do a shoey out of my red bottoms (and then a lot else)

flavybarla: slay?

estebanocon: well that was really my fault for asking

user19: new fantasy unlocked?

user20: now i know where all the good dick is going…

user21: for real she should share more

kimiantonelli: @yourusername is esteban the ‘great friend of mine, eiffel, who lives in switzerland and has a girlfriend too beautiful for words’?

yourusername: you got me!

user22: you’re telling me she’s friends with all these guys and didn’t know they were all f1 drivers?

yourusername: of course i knew kimi and esteban were f1 drivers… the rest not so much

kimiantonelli: she’s not even lying lol

yourusername: i’m never in monaco for the race and i’m not really a sports girl, unless you count the met gala!

user23: based on my expert deduction skills… if esteban is eiffel… is mick ‘baby blonde’ who showed her how to make a trip to the swiss countryside exciting?

yourusername: i should’ve never come to this damn race, there’s going to be no mystery left at this point

user24: SHE’S ALSO GOTTEN WITH MICK SCHUMACHER

user25: i’m about to go to prison for life on jealousy charges

user26: are the drivers not offended by her writing about their sex lives in her column, seems a bit trashy, no?

mickschumacher: not if you get a good review ;)

user27: OMFG

user28: i need a full system reboot

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 412,954 others

tagged: lando, estebanocon, mickschumacher & maxverstappen1

yourusername: putting the sass in sass cafe xx

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user29: if she gets with lando, it might be the end of me

user30: after daniel and mick, surely not

user31: i think they’re all grown adults who can do whatever they want

user32: acting all high and mighty as if we wouldn’t want to do the exact same

maxverstappen1: you promised that photo wouldn’t see the light of day

yourusername: i’m so sorry to say that, i don’t care

yourusername: you look cunty !

maxverstappen1: i look evil

yourusername: same thing

maxverstappen1: as long as it doesn’t end up in sex and the city

yourusername: you wouldn’t even know, pretty boy

user33: world’s first ever natural born flirt

user34: i feel like she has an innate need to flirt

yourusername: you wouldn’t be wrong

user35: we love a self aware queen

lando: i do not remember this being taken

yourusername: i don’t think you remember most of last night

lando: that’s omnious

yourusername: that’s a big word

lando: i googled it just for you

yourusername: oh how can I ever repay you?

user36: is it illegal for her not to have chemistry with someone

user37: it’s not chemistry, it’s desperation

user38: found the delusional lando fan

user39: deadass why would he go there knowing she’s already been passed around the grid

user40: two retired/out of the sport drivers over like five years is not mental

user41: also it’s y/n y/ln, she’s smart, a great writer, beautiful and annoyingly funny ???

olliebearman: sex and the city feature when?

yourusername: when you do something other than throw up on my designer shoes… the week’s edition is much cuter

olliebearman: i’m sorry?

Sunday night of the Monaco Grand Prix is talk of legend. The masses of rich busy bodies, socialites and influencers are packed like sardines in Sass or Jimmyz, each looking to get lucky with someone equally as influential as them.

The night was somewhat strange, I didn’t know if it was the text exchange with Glastonbury that had put me off kilter or the daytime champagne that had transitioned to evening cosmopolitans.

Had I assumed he would be like all of the other Formula One drivers? Not all athletes are the same, I thought I of all people would understand that by now… Glastonbury seems to have a sensitive side - I thought it had been part of the aftercare act, but now I’m not so sure.

He seemed so shocked to learn he’s not the only one, but I had seen his text logs, the thong left in the washing basket and the women’s skincare in the bathroom. Maybe they’re not fast to fall in love but fast to jump to conclusions, fast to stake some sort of superficial claim…

Does Glastonbury harbour actual feelings for me? Or has the revelation that he was not the first or only Formula One driver to grace my bed ignited a competition he believes are feelings?

SEX AND THE CITY: THE BEAUTY OF A MEET-WHOOPS

by y/n y/ln

When you live in a big city you can forget how small the world truly is. The busiest weekend of the year in the Principality, and here I am running into flings… in the pit lane of all places.

I thought that with Glastonbury, a lovely boy my age and from the somewhat pretentious village, our relationship was rudimentary and purely physical - but there, in the pit lane, there were flickers of butterflies in my stomach.

Was this an unsafe release or was I ready to confront a man who looks like he wants to sign me to a multi-year contract? Formula One puns aside, had a meet-whoops kicked our relationship into second gear?

What is a meet-whoops, you ask? You might better know their cousin, the meet-cute. This is where two people meet in particularly cute or romantic circumstances, see: your dogs are playing together at the park and the leashes get tangled ending in canine-enforced proximity, etc.

A meet-whoops? Well, it’s meeting a romantic interest accidentally. Meredith Gray meeting McDreamy at work after sleeping with him, unaware of who he was, springs to mind. The meeting being accidental almost makes it better, the feelings are raw and unexpected.

But I couldn’t help but think, are these feelings for Glastonbury genuine or just virtue of the meet-whoops? How would I feel about Glastonbury the next time I see him? The next time I can’t help but snoop through his cupboards and am confronted by life and girls before meeting me?

Meet-whoops are beautiful things, but am I ready to settle down? Can I see myself racing in one colour for the foreseeable future, or are there circuits I still want to race before I retire?

So, I guess what I’m trying to say is, ladies and gentlemen, don’t be fooled by the novelty of the meet-whoops, dig deeper and confront whether you’re on the right strategy: are you looking to do the overtake now because it’s there or will you play the long game, nurture your tyres and cross the line first later on?

fin.

note: can you tell i'm rewatching sex and the city??? i hope you enjoyed... it can go a lot of places so let me know who you might want to see... also i hope you like the nicknames some of the drivers have been given - trust i have the whole list !

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #f1 social media au #lando norris #max verstappen #kimi antonelli #esteban ocon #mick schumacher #daniel ricciardo

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beforetimes · 3 months ago

Text

okay i love the aus about shen jiu finding a little shen yuan and bringing him to qing jing peak before slowly warming up to him so here is my take on it! (specifically their first meeting)

shen jiu has been on qing jing peak for about five years at this point. he's vying for the position of head disciple and all things considered, he is a pretty strong contender for the role. there's just one issue his teacher keeps coming back to; how shen jiu will pass down knowledge on qing jing peak.

it's not a stretch to say that shen jiu is a bit. rough around the edges. and sometimes when teaching the younger disciples his own skewed views of how fast or slow they should be progressing leads him to get snappish and cold. trial teaching periods with shen jiu are most of the junior disciples' worst nightmare and the current qing jing peak lord knows well enough that this is something that needs to be rectified.

shen jiu, who knows this is the only real roadblock to becoming a head disciple like he's been trying at for five years, is intensely irritated. and on the verge of losing it, as if he hasn't been on a hair-trigger temper ever since he turned against wu yanzi for yue qingyuan only to not even be granted a reason for him never returning. qi deviations are a begrudginly expected aspect of his life that weaken his warring body in ways that make shen jiu want to scream.

anyway. he goes out on a mission with liu qingge to a far-off town a few months after one of these qi deviations and in the process of chasing away whatever beast or ghost has been bothering this town, they have to walk through the marketplace. it's fairly packed, all things considered, but shen jiu can still tell when his coin bag is lifted off him and the thief snatches away barely a moment later. he's already in a pretty bad mood because of liu qingge being there but he doesn't necessarily want to make a scene and draw the attention of the entire street onto him, so he follows after the child. he keeps an eye on the back of his head to keep track of him while liu qingge whinges on the side about how they need to stay on task and why is shen jiu getting distracted and is he seriously going to a brothel?!

to which shen jiu looks up and realizes that either this child a ) went to this brothel because he felt shen jiu following him and wanted to throw a righteous cultivator off by going into a place he assumed shen jiu wouldn't enter or b ) he lives here and he was just returning 'home.' neither of these options particularly work in the child's favour, considering the fact that shen jiu would just walk in without a care in the world and objectively, a brothel isn't a great place to live.

either way, he clenches his jaw, ignores liu qingge, and walks in to grab the thief and turn him around.

just to come face to face with a child that looks like him.

they both blink. shen jiu thinks this must be some sort of practical joke. the boy looking at him doesn't seem to understand what shen jiu is looking at so intently: the kid has probably never seen his face before, if anything. but he knows that something is up because he starts fidgeting and starts acting a bit scared the longer shen jiu stares without saying anything before finally breaking and shoving the coin bag back into shen jiu's hands.

who takes it. but also doesn't stop staring.

liu qingge, at this point, has recovered enough face and pushed down enough shame to walk into the brothel to drag shen jiu out before he also comes face to face with this child and is suitably confused.

of course there is no silence from liu qingge. the first thing he asks is if the kid if shen jiu's son, to which he snaps no. then he's asked if its a bastard brother or something along those lines. and shen jiu wants to automatically reply no to that as well before very suddenly and startlingly realizing that for as much as he assumed his mother was dead, he never actually remembered her dying. or saw a grave. while very rapidly realizing that he kind of just constructed the idea of her being dead for the sake of coping with the fact that she got rid of him away willingly. which is. wow. okay. shen jiu can't tell if he's feeling white hot rage so overwhelming that its making him blank out or he's so painfully numb that every limb of his prickles like its falling asleep.

either way. he looks around at this brothel and at this child who has bruises on his wrists and arms and peeking out under his robes—robes which look far too much like the ones that the prostitutes around him are wearing and asks what happens to his mom. and learns that she died when he was born and the boy is fifteen years old. which is hilarious because anyone with a working set of eyes can tell he's barely hitting double digits, let alone passing himself off as a teenager.

and then shen jiu feels like laughing hysterically for a whole other reason, watching the kid flinch when a large lumbering man pushes past the three collected at the entrance to walk in. and many realizations are piling up in his head all at once and thinking about this is making him want to throw up. and he wants to walk away and forget this ever happened and pretend that if he flies all the way back to cang qiong mountain immediately then this child will fade to the back of his memory and nothing will matter except for becoming head disciple.

which is when he remembers the only thing that is roadblocking him.

and shen jiu looks down at this child who is shaking slightly but still managing to look him in the eyes. who is covered in bruises but still stole money off of him. who is living in a brothel but hasn't wilted and rotted away like a dying flower. who has an ember of potential in his stomach, the possibility of becoming a cultivator just nearly there.

what better way to prove that he can become a head disciple than teaching his brother (???) how to become a cultivator? someone he can make countless mistakes with who will be indebted to him because of shen jiu saving him from this place. someone he can show to the peak lord as proof that he can work with children, he can teach, he has that slight touch of softness needed for a peak lord who will hand down knowledge to generations after him.

it doesn't even necessarily need to be real softness. he can just practice with this child, who knows nothing better, who is tied to shen jiu and won't leave once he comes to cang qiong because (and shen jiu can't tell if this makes him want to throw up or straighten up, pleased with his cleverness) he knows what is waiting for him when if he ever decided to leave, and shen jiu has garnered enough of a reputation that no one will want to try to be near anyone wearing his face.

which is a very tangential way to say that shen jiu asks for the child's name ("all the women here call me yuan." it is very impersonal) before telling him that this is the only time he will ever get an offer like this and no one else will ever care to look at someone of his standing ever again so it is important to listen to everything he says carefully. he tells yuan that he will take him back to his sect to become a cultivator. but he can never come back here and speak of this or how they met once they leave. any connections to this place will be cut off. he will be under shen jiu's care but fend for himself once they get back. shen jiu leaves him with one of his fans and enough coin for a meal before telling him that they will return in a few days time, by which time yuan will have made his decision. the fan is promised as incentive to come back because shen jiu doesn't need to child's trust broken before they even get there. he does all this before leaving without another word.

liu qingge is spitting blood the whole way back to their inn on the other side of town, questioning what the hell got into shen jiu and what was he talking about and any number of other things before shen jiu starved him out by refusing to say a word.

when they come back a few days later, yuan takes barely a minute to grab a bag of everything he needs before he looks up, handing shen jiu's fan back to him.

let me know if you want a continuation of this or a fic hahaha i will add it to the list

[part two!]

#svsss #svsss au #svsss fic #svsss headcanon #scum villain #scum villain au #scum villain's self saving system #shen yuan #shen jiu #shen qingqiu #liu qingge #disciple shen jiu #disciple liu qingge #shen yuan is shen jiu's brother #shen brothers

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bllushbunniie · 4 days ago

Text

aaron deserves a little morning treat, right?

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

fem reader, 18+, teasing, morning sex, reader is an evil cutie, face sittin fem receiving, slight breeding kink? not really tho you’ll see what I mean when u read it, Aaron turns into an evil cutie, and they both love each other——- pure smut, no context to this really ♡

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The house is bathed in moonlight and darkness when he arrives home. Y/N usually leaves the curtain open on nights like this- the moon calms her.

‘I just know she keeps you safe Aaron, when I’m looking at her- the moon, I always get the feeling she’s looking down on you, making sure you’re going to come home to me’

He recalls your little ramblings after lazing in bed with you, moonlight brightening the room, just as it is now.

It was the first time you really connected, y’know, in that way. He’s still a little shy when thinking about the both of you in that situation.

Years of professionalism that turned into friendship, which naturally evolved into romance. Years in which a lot of tension was repressed. And he intends to rectify that every chance he gets.

Especially now that he’s walked in on you, fast asleep, white cotton panties and a cute little tank top.

He can’t feel guilty for the thoughts going through his head right now, look at you. Cute little bum practically begging him to take a quick swipe at it, your gorgeous hair splayed behind you waiting to be tugged back to reveal your beautiful, beautiful neck so he can kiss and lick around your tender spots, trying to find that little spot that makes you make that delicious sound-

Enough. He’s way too tired, and you’re way too asleep for anything to happen right now.

He’ll just take a quick shower and come to bed and cuddle you.

Hopefully it’ll help the tension filling his lower body.

You haven’t moved from your spot once he joins you in bed, sleepy girl.

You’re so cute when you’re sleepy.

He loves being the one to make you sleepy.

He very quickly buries his thoughts and opts to snuggle you as close as he can instead. The scent of your hair ought to send him right to sleep.

So your plan clearly hadn’t worked.

Your boyfriend leaves you for a whole week, and you wearing your cutest panties couldn’t tempt him.

You just wanted to wake up with his handsome face between your thighs, is that so bad?

Instead, you’re waking up with his face buried in your neck, little snores coming from him. At least his arms were holding you tight to him. So tight you could feel all of him.

God, even just him being in your bed got you going, but him holding you, keeping you close and safe- it’s not your fault that you now have a small little wet spot dampening your panties.

You felt a little evil, he was clearly exhausted but your mind wouldn’t stop coming up with ways to have your way with him!

You could wiggle against him, pushing against his cock until his body woke him up. Maybe once he was awake, he could hold your panties to the side, and rock into you until you both reach your peak.

Or.. hmm

You’re allowed to be a little evil right? Aaron loved when you were a little tease.

You unraveled his arms from around you so you could rise from bed. Very quietly scanning your room to find your matching knee high socks. He loved these.

You approached his side of the bed, smirking slightly, his hair styled by sleep, face peaceful- it was time for him to wake up and give you your attention.

‘Mmm, wake up Aaron’, you whisper, giving little kisses to his neck, jaw and then cheek.

‘Hmm?’, instinctively reaching up to caress your waist. He was a little confused, he was still pretty tired but the feeling of little kisses and little wiggles were giving him the sweetest morning alarm.

‘You’re in trouble, Mr Hotchner’, you tease.

‘Oh, yeah?’

‘Mhm, you’ve been so cruel to me. Leaving me all alone…’

You continue your kisses, wickedly missing his lips. It was fun seeing him lift his sleepy head up to chase your lips. Makes your want to sink your teeth into them and make him moan.

‘C’mon honey, gimme my good morning kiss,’

Urgh, he’s so yummy.

Leaning down, ever so slowly, you reach his mouth, not connecting your lips just yet. You lean in closer and then further away every couple of seconds- each time pulling away and he pushes his face closer.

You little tease. He thinks to himself, but all he can verbalise is a slight huff- due to that fact you’re running your hands all over his chest and you’ve finally dropped your hips down on his, there’s no way he can think of anything else, the blood has gone from his head.

Both of his hands now are on you, feeling the small of your waist, how it curves out to your hips, other hand sweeping your hair away so he can drag that little strap further down your shoulder.

‘Oh, I don’t think so, baby. Hands off’, you ordered.

‘You’re going to keep them.. right… here, and you’re not going to touch unless I say so, got it?’

He lets you move him, he loves when you manhandle him. He also loves it when you get like this, because it always ends up with you having your way with him. The best sight is you using him for your pleasure.

You pin his arms above his head, then lean back. Urgh, you’re saving this view in your memory. Looking down, you can see his underwear barely disguising his arousal, his chest rising with exaggerated breaths and a sleepy smile still on his face.

Reaching down, you inch his sleep top up his stomach, intentionally letting your nails drag along his lower stomach- his hips start stuttering under you. More intense pressure builds between the connection of you two.

It just adds to the sensation the feeling of your wetness leaking through your panties and onto his underwear.

‘Mm, Aaron, can you feel that?’ you giggle, you’re not trying to tease him, it feels too nice for that- it feels dirty. You want him to feel your want for him, you want him to feel what’s all for him.

‘I waited for you aaall night, you know that? I missed you so so much.’

Tugging his top all the way off of his body now, throwing it to god knows where, positioning your hands back down to hold his arms to the bed.

Finally, you tilt yourself down, letting your lips fully meet for the first time in a week. It’s soft and wet, slightly- minty? Mm, worth waiting a week for.

You can tell he wants more, he’s edging his tongue ever so slightly into your mouth, trying to make it dirtier- of course you follow along, opening your mouth to him, letting the room fill with the wet, yummy sounds of you making out.

The little facade is fading, you didn’t want to tease any longer, you want, no need his hands all over you again. He knows it too, he knew it’d crumble once he got into it deeper with you- you’re a needy girl really.

‘Oh, I’m allowed to touch you now, baby?’

You love the way the way he talks to you, especially when he lowers his voice like that- it’s got a slight softness to it though, manly, domineering but so loving, it just gets you all the more wet.

He guides your hips with every rock of them, squeezing, using his thumbs for more leverage.

‘Right, honey, enough of this, up’

‘Huh?’ You’re too dazed by his dirty kisses to fully understand what he wants at first.

He’s encouraging you off of his lap, further up his chest.

‘You really think you can get away with waking me up with your little kisses and wiggling hips, looking like a little goddess? You’re cute, honey, now up, and sit.. right here’

Aaron doesn’t even need to use a quarter of his strength to lift your entire body onto his face, immediately placing your pantie clad clit directly on his nose. Urgh he has such a good nose for this, you think to yourself as your hips start to react to the sensation.

Feeling his tongue lick over the little wet spot you’d made just for him, it was unbearable. Clear moans finally fell from your mouth, high pitch squeals every time he pushed your hips, your pussy further into his face. It was like he was starving. He was just trying to make a bigger mess of you, spreading your concealed wetness all inside your panties, making you so slippy. A perfect condition for him to take one hand from your hip to pull your panties to the side so he can finally eat you without constriction.

Licks from his tongue after cruelly eating you over your panties was such a delightful feeling. You could feel the warmth of his tongue, the force of his greedy tongue searching for more of your wetness.

‘Mm, honey, hold your panties for me’. You were steadying yourself with one hand in his hair, the other on the headboard; untangling your fingers in his hair, you did as you were told, you were completely under his spell, you’d do anything he told you to do. Replacing his hand with your own, shuddering slightly when your fingers touched your most sensitive place.

Chuckling at your reaction, he paused his incessant mouth to tease.

‘Sensitive, baby?’

More, more, more was all he was thinking.

Dragging his blunt nails up your thighs around to your hips, he dove back in now pressing up even closer, taking over control of your body, your movement, he needed to take you to the edge himself. It was all he’d been thinking about when he was away with work. How he wanted to watch you fall apart on top of him, or under him- he doesn’t really care specifically about which position, all positions have their pros.

But this, this position was a favourite.

Vulnerable on top of him, chasing your pleasure, the soft of your tummy curving and dipping upwards to the swells of your breasts, nipples hard with arousal. He’s so lucky he gets to see you from this angle.

You let him grind your hips for you until you release all over him, moans getting that much louder, body shaking with a tension that was finally being released after a long week.

‘I think you should just.. ~kiss~.. stay right here baby, yeah? ~kiss~ Stay, and let me lick into you for a bit longer?’

You weren’t going to be able to escape his tight hold, even if you wanted to- so you let yourself fall into the feeling of overstimulation. Hand still holding your panties away from your core, the other hand slaps over your mouth to prevent louder squeals.

‘Please Aaron, too much, too sensit— Aaron, mm!’

Oh he was absolutely not letting up on you now, your hips had lost their rhythm, they were jerking every which way and it was sublime.

Sensitive girl.

Sensitive, warm girl. Your cum now leaking that much more, warming his mouth with your honey.

Warmth was creeping like fire over both of you, your whole entire body felt flushed- embarrassed over how sensitive you were and how fast he made you cum.

‘Inside please, Aaron, please?’

He loved how sweet and polite you were, even when you were completely undone.

Sweet, right to your core.

Letting up on his grip on your hips, you slump off of him, falling just to the side of him.

A ‘beautiful girl’ falls from his lips.

You take the opportunity to smush your lips together in an exhausted thank you. You could taste yourself on him.

‘Can you please fuck me now?’ You implored.

Another chuckle falls from him, you were so cute, bringing out the manners like he’d ever say no, like you had to convince him.

‘Lie back for me, angel girl’.

Once you were laid back, hair splayed around you like a halo, he undressed you like it was second nature, but pausing for a second when he felt the slight resistance from the gusset of your panties. It never got old, uncovering your pretty, wet pussy- all prepared for him.

Your wetness aided in the swiftness in which he entered, he practically slipped all of the way into you.

‘You’re so slippy, baby’

‘So, wet’

‘Mm, clenching around me too? You like the way I talk to you? Like the way we feel together’

Taunt-like compliments fell from his mouth as he thrusted into you.

Yes, god, you did like the way he talked to you, a little too much. You were only a few thrusts away from another orgasm.

Eyes squeezed shut, lovely moans falling from your lips.

‘I can feel you tightening baby, hold on for me’.

Yeah, like you can hold it when he feels this good. It didn’t matter because you knew exactly what would get him to release. Release inside of you where it belongs.

Scratching your long, manicured nails up his back and digging them into his shoulders had him pushing and finishing inside of you. Him filling you, and the friction of the base of his cock against your clit had you clenching in orgasm with him.

Whimpering, you locked your legs around him to keep him close- trying to bring him closer so you could hear his delicious moans right up close.

Giggling after your muscle spasms cease.

‘Mm, I missed that’.

‘It should be illegal to leave your girlfriend for that long, Aaron. You make me feel too good’. Pouting as he stabilises himself you hover above you and dedicate all his attention to your face.

‘Worth waiting for?’ he questioned, stroking your baby hairs away from your sweaty, flushed face.

‘Mhm, always is.’

After basking in your post orgasmic delight, he disconnects from you with a tremor, both of you hissing at the feeling. He got to see his favourite sight- his cum leaking from you.

God, he felt so dirty but he doesn’t stop himself from holding your lips open to see more of him drip out of you.

‘Aaron!!’

He just smirks. He knows you love it too. He recalls the times where you beg for him to fill you, to keep it inside of you- he also knows you love it because he can see your spent little hole clench and unclench under his gaze.

Finding your panties from the floor, he drags them up your legs, covering your messy pussy with the already messy panties.

‘You’re so naughty, Aaron.’ you flirt at him as he covers your breasts back up, pulling your top back down over you.

‘Since you got me all sticky, do you want me to bring breakfast?’ You question, climbing off your little love nest.

He’s enjoying the view far too much, you’re all bouncy and happy, you practically skip around the end of the bed, leaning over.

‘And then, handsome, we can both get clean in the shower, how does that sound?’

All he can do is flop back down, arms behind his head with a big, bright smile in his face.

‘Sounds perfect, lovely girl’.

♡.

#did I get too dirty #idk #who cares!#aaron hotch smut #aaron hotch fluff #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch x you #hotch x y/n #hotch smut #hotch fluff #aaron hotch fic #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader smut #criminal minds

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togament · 1 year ago

Note

I LOVE YOUR WRITING SM😭😭

Please could you do a fluffy thirst of how the boys (togame, sakura, kaji, ume maybe suo) treat the reader after they’ve gone a round 🥲 like their afterglow ❤️

ANON. You and your brain!!!!!! Yoinking it out of your skull to kiss it. Thank you for the kind words! This got me flying off the hinges I worked on this so fast. Locked in, I fear. I hope you don't mind me adding Endo in. He's like a stray cat atp. Don't mind him.

𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔.

suo. sakura. kaji. ume. kiryu. togame. endo.

"ever wondered how it'd be like to just lay there with him, naked both physically and emotionally. So bare and vulnerable, skin reddened and raw, bodies aching. But with both hearts so full, it's almost bursting at the seams? I got it."

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Sakura was written with his character development in the most recent chapter in mind! (SOBBING), some language (I'm not exactly the best person to trust with keeping things clean and straight yk), mentions of sex, mentions of cuuuuum, GN!Reader but let me know if I made any mistakes--I'll rectify dat rq (edited Sakura’s!! Tysvm anon!!! Dw you didn’t come across as rude, promise), FLUFF OOEY GOOEY FLUFF, endo???? BEING A PROPER CITIZEN??? LOVER EVEN??????, kinda NSFW? not too spicy but still--MDNI!

𝐒𝐔𝐎.

Your room's dimly lit by candlelight and the moonlight shining through the blinds. Wafts of incense and patchouli caress your senses while your beloved wipes you down with a warm towel. "Good enough for you, my dove?" he pauses as he's looking up at you and you're met with Suo looking at you as though you've hung the moon yourself. Leaning in for a lingering forehead kiss, he mutters into your scalp, "my god you're absolutely ethereal."

✦ your apartment transforms into something damn close to a spa. Suo's big on scents so he has the cool breeze flowing in, incense lit, scented candles gently perfuming the air. It's magical every time. ✦ goes without saying that he loves, loves, LOVES spoiling you. Worshipping you, even. You swear sometimes his lips would never leave your skin with how often he's placing kiss after kiss on your body. ✦ scalp massages! Suo's an absolute beast at it. You always wake up to your hair smelling of some of his essential oils. It's a whole selection and he doesn't like sticking to just one scent. Hell, your body feels so moisturized and plump once you wake up in the morning.

══════════════════ 𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐀.

"Yer so pretty," Sakura's voice is soft, gentle. A far cry from his harsh and rough tone. God. He's looking at you with such reverence you feel like you're gonna melt. Leaning towards you, he presses a lingering kiss to your lips. There it is. He's blushing again. "My baby’s so pretty."

✦ he's not blushing profusely anymore. Or at least, not as red as he normally is when he's around you. he's just laid there beside you, staring into your eyes with the softest expression on his face. Gratitude. Admiration. ✦ often spends most of the time staring at you like that so lovingly. So much so that you gotta remind him to wipe you down because god the cum's starting to make you feel uncomfortable with how cold it feels. ✦ is actually such a great cuddler. Especially after such a rough session. ESPECIALLY. Doesn't want to let you go the entire time.

══════════════════ 𝐊𝐀𝐉𝐈.

"Let me clean you up," reaching beside you, your lover says with a slight groan as he grabs the tissues off to your side. Taking a few squares, he wipes you down wordlessly, the cautious speed ever evident. It's silent. Soothing. His other arm's never left your side, you notice. Gripping onto your hip ever so securely.

✦ not a huge talker after the fact. But he's quick to clean you up and attend to your needs. It's mostly just short, meaningful praises and reassurances with the both of you, basking in the afterglow. ✦ what he lacks in words, he makes up for in actions. He loves lavishing your body with kisses, caressing where you’re aching the most. ✦ Likes the silence since it's only with you where he doesn't need his headphones to put the world on mute, doesn't need a lollipop to censor his filthy, ruthless mouth. But of course, if it's assurance and praise you need, it's assurance and praise you'll get. His lips are devoid of sweets after all. Time for you to keep them busy.

══════════════════ 𝐔𝐌𝐄.

"Do you need anything else from me, baby? A massage? Some cuddles?" your lover asks you while he's wiping your inner thighs down clean from his cum that's been dribbling down them, always eager to cater to your needs at all times. Pressing a gentle kiss to the skin, he adds gently, "Whatever you need."

✦ way sweeter than he usually is with you. Which is saying a lot because your man's the absolute sweetest around you all the damn time! Presses kisses everywhere, whispers the most heart melting praise while he's hard at work soothing your body.... BIG SIGH. ✦ likes making you laugh even when your body's aching from him practically going all in on you. Says it's the best way to distract you from the pain. Still, he's massaging you if you'd like him to. Happy to oblige. ✦ ugh the ASSURANCE he gives you every time. The PRAISE?????? ALL GENUINE. ALL FROM THE HEART. It happens every time you're both still awake after the romp. 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐓.

══════════════════ 𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐘𝐔.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs against your skin as he's trailing kisses down your spine, corners of his lips curled up into a gentle smile. You can feel it with each kiss he presses onto your skin. His skillful thumbs pressing soothing circles in your aching muscles, rubbing the soreness away. "How'd I get so lucky?"

✦ PRAISE IS THE ABSOLUTE NAME OF THE GAME.

✦ he's so good at massaging you omg the thought of paying him for it has crossed your mind a couple of times. You feel so guilty for being massaged and pampered this good FOR FREE. ALL THE TIME. ✦ likes talking you through everything, whispering assurances and checking in with you during the act and after. Never fails to make you feel like you're cherished. With Kiryu, you truly are. And more.

══════════════════ 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄.

"Need a massage?" he says as he's already flexing his hands, reaching over for the massage oil. Eyes so lovestruck as he gazes into your own, he coos at you gently, "Little reward yeah?" Pressing a gentle kiss right behind your ear, he whispers deeply, his voice ends with a slight grumble, "Did so good f'me, doll."

✦ Of course, always attentive to you. Slow with wiping you down but god is it soothing with how he's doing it so gently. Purring praises into it every time. If you're feeling peckish, no matter how tired he is, he's making something for you in the kitchen. ✦ can and would eat you out if you wanted him to help ride out your high again. Gentle with it again too since he knows how sensitive you are. Pretty easy to wrap into another round though. ✦ After all that, you both are out like lights as soon as your heads hit the pillow. He's got you close to him though, arms encasing you, breaths intertwined. Comfortable.

══════════════════ 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐎.

"Fuck... ME," he says with a gentle chuckle, voice akin to a purr you can swear it rumbles, tone so honeyed and syrupy. Reaching over to your side of the bed, your lover cups a tattooed hand over your cheek, sliding his thumb over the apex of it ever so slowly. "You're gorgeous."

✦ Always, always at your beck and call. Need something? He's on it. Back aches from the diabolical backshots? He's already prepping your body with massaging oil. Need him to wipe the cum away? Of course he's on that shit ASAP (with his tongue). Would do whatever it is that you want him to do within a heartbeat. ✦ Often tries to get another round out of you. He genuinely, genuinely CANNOT get enough of you. Only if you're cool with him trying though. He's not gonna force things on you if you don't want it. ✦ lavishes you with so much love sometimes it's suffocating. It only ramps up in intensity after fucking. If you like them obsessively clingy, he's your man.

a/n: HOOOOOOO anon I hope this was alright!!!! These were all such fun to do oml. THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING THROUGH ALL THIS AHSDKHAKJSD more requests like these please!!!! aaaaa

#wind breaker #windbreaker #windbreaker x reader #wind breaker x reader #windbreaker fluff #windbreaker smut #hajime umemiya x reader #jo togame x reader #endo yamato x reader #yamato endo x reader #mitsuki kiryu x reader #umemiya x reader #kaji ren x reader #haruka sakura x reader #hayato suo x reader #windbreaker imagines

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luveline · 4 months ago

Text

𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 | 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

seven | chapter list

Finding out you’re a princess isn’t half as intimidating as suddenly acquiring a full-time bodyguard. Especially when that bodyguard is disarmingly handsome, charming, and can’t seem to stop flirting with you.

bodyguard!james, fem!reader, implied chubby!reader, shy!reader, princess diaries au, all characters in their 20s or older, star-crossed lovers/ forbidden romance, slowburn, background wolfstar

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

The whiplash of last night's dinner seems rectified at breakfast. Marlene arrives an hour after you wake up with a basket of farmer’s market produce, glass bottles of fresh juice, a dozen eggs still dirty with a baby feather nestled between shells. She brings cuts of bacon so fat it’s practically pork belly, and all manner of greens for the omelettes. “Gotta keep these working men fed,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I’d quite like to know why Sirius Black can’t make his own breakfast.”

Sirius falls in barely half an hour later, all hardness gone, dressed in slacks and a brown leather jacket, his loose curls pinned away from his face. “I’m thinking of growing a moustache,” he says when he spots you on the sofa. “What do you think? I don’t have much space for one, really, but it would look rather refined.”

James shows up soon enough. You worry he’s angry with you after his quick departure last night, but he says, “Princess, you’re a sight for sore eyes. Mum said she saw a photo of us together in the paper. She’s having it framed.”

Things between James and Sirius are frosty for all of half a day.

So for a while everyone pretends the conversation about Baron Riddle never happened. Things go back to normal, driving lessons, self defence, clothes shopping. You keep attending your university classes at the local college upon Remus’ assistance —Sirius will find a way to have them transfer your credits, he says, so long as you finish this year. Two more terms and you can take a break.

You pretend that everything is okay, and permanent.

“It’ll be Christmas soon,” James says.

You tilt your head to him but keep your eyes on the burning white of the computer screen, scribbling the last words of a sentence down for your next assignment. Researching isn’t fun, and getting James special permission to enter the college building hadn’t been easy, but he makes your long afternoons bearable. “Do you celebrate?” you ask.

“I do.”

“Your mum will be happy to have you home.”

“I’m not going home this year.”

Your beginning smile is stopped, fading fast. “‘Cos of me?”

“Because this is the job,” he says easily. “It’s alright. I’ll still speak to her. She’s used to not seeing me. I’ve spent more time away from her than with her, for years.”

You close your textbook, tracing its softening edges in an avoidance of his gaze. “Well. Well, I don’t really need you, James.”

“No?”

You meet his eyes. Careful not to spook yourself. He’s looking at you with little emotion, impossible to infer his mood from expression alone. You don’t know what he means to ask you here.

“Missing out on time with your family for me, when nobody even knows who I am–”

“That’s not true, is it? You get a fair few stares.”

“Not because they really know who I am,” you whisper. “It’s like seeing someone you’re sure you’ve met before, but really you’ve seen them on TV. I’m like an odd memory or something.”

“An odd memory.”

You turn back to your computer and flick through the journal you’re reading for want of something to do. James twists in his chair with a hand fallen between your shoulders. Your skin tingles under his touch. “I just don’t think it’s good of me to have you when I’m fine.”

“Do you have me, Princess?” James says, his voice turning soft slow as a taffy pull.

“You know what I mean.”

“Yes, I do.” James’ hand comes to rest on the desk beside yours, not touching you, not moving a millimetre. He can be so still, but it’s a stillness that came with practice. He’s as at ease here as he would be at home, trusting his abilities. Nothing that can get you here scares him, not for a second. “I’m afraid I’m yours for the foreseeable future.”

You fight down a shiver. “It’s not fair for you to miss out on Christmas. I’ll be fine by myself. I would stay home, I promise, you could lock me in and set me free a week later.”

“I won’t do that,” he says.

“But you could, and then you won’t miss Christmas or your mum, and–” You realise you’re talking too loudly and tone it down. “And I’ll be fine on my own.”

“You said, yeah…”

You stare at the cover of your textbook. “Right.”

James checks his watch. In his ‘bum bag’ as he calls it, the radio he’d been carrying around on his shoulder when you met makes a concealed crackle. He pulls it out and brings it to his mouth. “Say again?” he orders.

“We’re waiting outside,” Sirius says, to your surprise.

“Pads, you’ve actually done something I asked,” James says in amazement.

“Not really. It’s Remus’ radio, you know I won’t carry them around. It’s ridiculous. I would’ve liked to have called you but you never answer, even if it’s life or death!”

“It’s never life or death with you.”

“Cruel. Tell the Princess to hurry her work, she promised we’d go to the cinema and it’s getting on.”

“She’s done when she’s done,” James says.

“I’m finished,” you say.

“She’s finished,” James says.

“Oh, good. Has she picked what movie she wants to see?”

“Sirius, can’t we have this conversation in two minutes, when we’re in the same car.”

“What’s the fun in that?”

You pack away your things and log out of your account on the library computer. James offers to take your bag, grumbling when you insist on carrying it yourself, and rebelling against you as you descend the stairs into the college’s entrance atrium by holding open every stairwell door.

“What movie does he want to see?” you ask James.

“Never mind him,” James says, stilling at the shock of cold that ebbs from the main doors. “Button your coat, lovely.”

You thought perhaps James would get to know you more and he’d stop using ‘lovely’. There isn’t all that much about you worth such a nice word, but he still says it. He calls Marlene gorgeous practically every morning when she makes his coffee, Lily sweetness or angel or —really, he’s quite fond of Lily. You don’t see her too often; she’s here to take care of diplomatic matters directly involving you, and so she pops in every now and then to gather your signatures or ask an opinion, busy at the embassy. You get this uncomfortable feeling when you see them together, too complicated to name, like fingers curled tight around your heart, squeezing until you’re squeamish and pounding behind the ears. And Sirius makes these jokes you’re too afraid to ask about, little snippy things aimed to make fun of James in a brotherly manner. Our Prongs likes a redhead. I considered going ginger for a bit, but I don’t have the complexion for it. You have no choice but to sit there still and silent until they change the subject. It must be the not knowing them well that makes it hard.

Just outside of the college, Remus and Sirius wait in the front seats of a rather nice car.

“Where did you get this?” James asks, stopped too far in the road.

“Bought it.”

“Why?” James asks.

“You said I couldn’t get a bike.”

“I said you couldn’t get a bike,” Remus corrects. “James said he wouldn’t get on the bike, or sit by your bedside if you drove it into a wall.”

“You like it?” Sirius asks.

James gives you a smug, fond smile. “Do we?” he asks.

“It’s pretty,” you say.

“She’s gorgeous, Princess! Don’t downplay it like that! Now, are you getting in? Remus has picked tonight’s movie–”

“Get out,” James says.

“You are not driving my baby,” Sirius says, “I’ve only had her an hour.”

“I don’t care how long you’ve had the car, if the Princess is riding in it, I’ll be the one driving it. You know the rules.”

“Yes, but you’re the one who makes the rules, and they’re stupid rules, so I suppose this time you’ll be letting me drive, won’t you?” Sirius asks.

—

“My own car,” Sirius mutters to himself beside you, “can’t even drive my own bloody car. This is worse than the summer I saved for an electric guitar and my mother smashed it into smithereens in the foyer. At least Walburga let me play a couple of songs first.”

“Walburga?” you ask, grinning.

“Patron Saint of hydrophones,” Sirius says offhandedly. ”And cunts. It’s why I hate water so much, see, I’m worried mum’s going to deprive me of protection.”

“Sorry, Princess, Sirius is having one of his days,” Remus says from the passenger seat.

“I’m being serious,” Sirius says. “Unsurprisingly.”

“Don’t let me tell Effy who you’ve just called mum,” James quips.

“Euphemia,” Sirius says quickly, “name of a well-spoken woman. And she is well-spoken, James’ mum, she’s well everything. Well dressed, well kind,” —he puts his hand on your arm and rubs gently, enough affection for the woman in question running through him that it pours into you instead— “she would just love you to death, Your Gorgeousness.”

“You are having one of those days,” you say.

“Not sure I know what you mean.” Sirius grins at you, dark hair in his eyes, his irises a pale grey that catches you. “Alright there?” he asks.

“Your eyes are grey.”

“If you fancy me–”

“I thought they were brown, is all, like James’,” you say, voice taking a sharp turn into loudness in a poor attempt to move away from what you’ve said.

“We can’t all have that dreamy mocha brown,” Sirius says. His grin has changed, morphed into a mischief you aren’t yet familiar with. “We all have grey eyes, the Black’s. My mother and father too. Makes sense they would, what with their… similar heritage.”

Sirius doesn’t volunteer information about his family often, and as he does he squirms. You wonder if he’d tripped into saying it on automatic. You know intimately how that feels. “Don’t worry about it,” you say, “I spent the last twenty years thinking my mum was a drunk and my father an idea. Of course, I know more about my dad now.”

“Not about your mum?”

“Oh, no. She’s dead, I think,” you say.

“You don’t know?”

Your turn to squirm. “Not really, no.”

Sirius frowns. His lips part, a concerned platitude no doubt on his lips, but James’ strong voice cuts in, “You can share mine,” he says, “god knows she’s always trying to find another of my friends to parent. She even tried to baby Regulus when they first met.”

“Your brother?” you ask Sirius, remembering some tidbit of conversation.

“He isn’t exactly versed in accepting affection,” Sirius says.

“Neither were you!” James doesn’t look away from the road ahead as his arm reaches back. He points ineffectually. “And now look at you!”

“Get me out of this car,” Sirius says.

Remus, grey at the gills, murmurs, “I was just thinking the same thing.”

Remus wars with migraine–motion sickness nausea on the corner of the street. James, having parked and locked the car once you all emerged, stands straight beside you, worry flashing across his face. Sirius has it all covered, patting the space between Remus’ shoulders slowly as Remus says, “Stop smothering me, or I’ll be sick on your shoes.”

“Finally return the favour, then,” Sirius says.

Remus groans, bending further toward the ground.

“Is he okay?” you ask.

James doesn’t answer for a while. He sweeps his gaze around the streets, cataloguing people and squinting against the lowering sun as it shuttles behind buildings. The evening cold is setting in, lights of the cinema blue-bright white and buzzing just ahead. “Remus will be alright,” he says, sounding like he believes it wholeheartedly. “Just gets sick sometimes ‘cos of the headaches.”

It really bothers him, all the same. He doesn’t hide it well, the twitch of his fingers to go help, his furtive glances. He looks up and down the road, behind the cars, around you, and always back at Remus and Sirius.

“How old were you when you first went away to boarding school?” you ask.

“We were eleven. Why?”

“I’m just wondering. You’ve been friends for a really long time, then.”

“Not too long, now, Princess. I’m only in my twenties.”

“Right,” you laugh, “of course.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing! It didn’t mean anything.”

He gets a Sirius brand of smile, then. No, not Sirius at all, just a James you haven’t met before, cheeky and funny at once. “Sure it didn’t,” he teases. “You think I’m old. Do I look old to you? I’ll have you know I’m in perfect athletic shape. My mile time is six minutes on the dot.”

“Very impressive,” you say.

He rolls his shoulders. “Yes, it is.”

A couple of feet away, Remus has stood tall, a hand covering his eyes. Sirius covers that hand with his own, his laugh carrying across the street. “You’re a mess, Lupin, but you’re nothing I can’t handle, obviously. Get over yourself.”

“All I said was ‘fuck’s sake’,” Remus says.

“It was teeming with self loathing.”

“It‘s like I’m stuck together with shit PVA or something, I feel ridiculous.”

“You’re fine. You are. You’ve never looked so fine, Moony old chap.”

“Can you stop?” Remus asks, sounding like he doesn’t mind it either way.

“Sure,” Sirius says anyways, softer now by a thread. “I’m done.”

“James, should we–”

James goes down with a quiet thump. Your hearing flats out, no sound of him as his arms curl outward and his back rolls —he’s too smart to let his head smack the pavement.

You aren’t smart enough to move out of the line of fire.

A weight like a log forced itself into your stomach, slamming your back to a chest. You thrust your head back hard and cry out as a stab of pain rushes through your head, stumbling as best you can away from it, but the arm doesn’t let you go.

Sudden, there’s another cry of pain, male this time, and the arm is letting you go. You bound two steps forward and spin in time to see James in a fist fight with a masked assailant, punches popped faster than you can track: you see clearly only points of contact, James taking a hit to the chest, to the head, his face snapped sideways as his knee comes up. He puts all of his weight into the motion and kicks, putting some much needed space between the two of them.

You glance back for Sirius and Remus in a tizzy and come face to face with another black mask.

You aren’t sure why you do it. Perhaps James’ sense of urgency rubs off on you, all his echoes of why you don’t want to let an attacker take you away from the public eye if you can help it, or maybe it’s knowing James is locked into his own fight and he might not win against another, caught off guard like that. You can’t confess to thinking, only swinging, the power of your entire upper body thrust into a punch that shatters you with pain.

Before you can see if the punch had any effect, someone is stepping in front of you and hitting him again. Twice, a third time, James hits the masked man until he’s incapacitated on the ground.

He swings back to you with a harsh breath. Your ears pop. “What the fuck!” someone’s saying, not James, his lips unmoving as he looks you over.

“…You okay?” he says finally, stepping into your space to hold you by the arms. “You’re not hurt?”

You flinch as his hand slips down to yours.

“My hand!” you yelp, pressing it to your chest.

“What about your hand?”

“I punched that guy!”

“Did you tuck your thumb into your hand?”

“Yes!”

“I told you not to do that!” James exclaims, breathless and vaguely pained as he puts his hands out again to take your injured one. “You tuck your thumbnail against the curl of your index finger!”

“Is it broken?” Sirius asks seriously, stepping over one of your attackers in his rush to be next to you. “Are you okay? Fuck, it looked like a good one, though!”

“I didn’t think properly,” you say, biting back a whimper as James rolls down your sleeve, your hand shaking terribly in his grasp, “I was just scared–”

“No, I know, it’s not your fault,” James says in a run on, sounding far outside the realm of a professional as he pokes near your pinky fingers knuckle. Your whine of pain makes it worse. “Sorry, lovely. I think you have a fracture. Fuck, you didn’t have to do that, I had it handled.”

“He was gonna grab me!”

“I know.” He rubs his brow. “Shit, I’m so sorry.” James raises his gaze to Sirius as though he’s going to ask for something, but he pauses. “Where’s Remus?”

“Turned into a migraine pretty much the second before those guys turned up, I had to sit him down.”

James holds your arm with both hands. His eyes are browner than anything as he levels your gaze. “I’m gonna fix this, okay? I just need to make sure they aren’t getting up.”

“Okay.” The pain in your hand gets worse by the second.

“Okay?” he asks.

It hurts so badly that tears form, one dribbling hot and fat down your cheek. “Okay,” you say again, wobbling.

His lips go flat, but he turns away to start cleaning up. Sirius takes his place, wrapping an arm behind your back with a comforting murmur that you don’t quite hear.

—

James is gone for hours. Sirius and Mikkelson take you home, and waiting for you is a team of doctors and nurses that seem unperturbed to be treating a princess in her rinky dink living room. The craziest part about it all isn’t that you’ve been attacked, or that the two doctors and three nurses are smiley, unhurried but not uncaring, and it’s not that you wish James was there so sorely it has you unsettled despite the rapid pain relief, no. The craziest part is the portable x-ray machine.

“We could’ve gone to the hospital,” you tell Sirius, leaning back in your kitchen chair as a sweet-faced nurse slips a brace carefully over your injured hand.

“No, we couldn’t have.”

“I don’t understand why not.”

“Yes, you do.” Sirius points at the plate of biscuits by your cup insistently. “Go on.”

“I can’t.”

“Just something quick for your blood sugar. Or pressure? One of them. Would you rather have a sandwich?”

“No.”

“Princess, please,” he says, giving you a frown you're unused to, like you’re pissing him off and he expects it.

You grab a biscuit to appease him.

Remus is wrapped in a throw blanket in your bed, likely sleeping, or perhaps still furious that Sirius had asked one of the nurses to give him a good look. Her diagnosis wasn’t anything new; Remus is suffering in the third stage of a migraine. It’s best he be left alone for a little while to rest. He’s going to be very tired when he comes out of it.

James hasn’t returned yet. When they first stuffed you to the brim with painkillers, you’d thought morosely that you‘d needed him there, but now you just wonder what’s taking him so long. Who were those men? One of them had grabbed you tightly with intent to drag you away, so where were you going?

Your flat is growing more crowded by the second. Marlene is in the living room trying to take dinner orders from extremely happy doctors and bodyguards alike, and with her is a stranger, a woman with dark skin and darker hair, black curls piled away from her face. You haven’t asked about her yet. Perhaps Marlene needs help catering for the sheer amount of people.

“This isn’t exactly incognito,” you say, “all these people.”

“Yes, well, James wants you to move anyways. And maybe that’s for the best. It’s rather cramped in here.”

“It wasn’t,” you say.

He assesses you quietly.

“What?”

“It’s alright if you don’t want to move, but you must know you’re a sitting duck here.”

“I must?”

“You are not a normal person, and you never will be. James won’t tell you about the things you should be scared of even if he’s honest about the risk, and I was at the mercy of his wrath last time, but I don’t care,” he says honestly. “I don’t. I need you to know that you’re not safe and it’s not because of some invisible maybe, there are real forces at play here. The sooner you move, the better. I know,” —he lowers his voice— “it’s a massive change, and you haven’t had time to catch your breath, but you can’t get comfortable now. And hey, you can keep the flat, yeah? You don’t have to give it away, but things aren’t safe here.”

“But why not?”

“It’s the Baron,” Sirius says, serious, quick, glancing at the door, “he’s not just cruel, he’s evil. He’s done things you’d never think he’d get away with, not now. It’s like the dark ages in his courts, the pure bloods–”

“Sirius, what the fuck?” Marlene says, pushing the door until it hits the wall. “Enough. She fucking broke her hand.”

“And I’m telling her why.”

“She broke it because she punched someone the wrong way,” the unknown woman says, warm but disapproving at once. “Who taught you to fight?”

“Uh, it’s self defense,” you say uselessly.

“James,” she tuts.

Marlene appraises the nurse where she’s lingering at the counter, putting away her things. “Are you staying for dinner?” she asks, which is mostly sincere, just a tad pushy.

The nurse says, “No, thank you,” and makes herself scarce.

“This is Dorcas,” Marlene introduces as the door closes. No explanation to who she is follows as they settle against the counter tops.

“Hi,” you say softly.

“Hello.” Dorcas smiles, all signs of her disapproval wiped clean. “How’s the hand?”

“Hurting.”

“It’s nothing some rigatoni arrabbiata won’t fix, I’m sure.”

“Sorry, Dorcas, but why the fuck are you here?” Sirius asks pleasantly.

“Why do you think?” she asks sweetly back.

“Usually to fuck me off.”

“Enough,” Marlene says. “If you’re going to argue, you have two options. You can do it while pulling the tendons from these chicken fillets, or you can do it outside.”

“Pass,” Sirius says. “I’ll go on as usual, as long as the snake stays quiet.”

“You’re as bad as.” Dorcas crosses her arms over her chest.

Sirius doesn’t rise to the bait, despite himself, and Marlene opens your fridge to begin cooking. He doesn’t mention the evil forces in play again, leaving you in your agony to brush it away. You’ll think of it later, or never, whichever comes first.

“You can go to bed, if you like.”

“Remus is in there.”

“He won’t care. Pretty sure he had one of us in bed with him from first year to last,” Sirius says, taking one of your biscuits and eating it in two quick bites.

You remember your own and put it down next to your cup of tea. Tea is fine, but these boys are constantly plying you with it and you’ve had enough to last a while. And the biscuits —who thought you could ever be sick of biscuits?

“I’m not tired,” you say. “Maybe I’ll… finish some school work.”

“Sure. Gonna be okay typing without your hand?”

You wince. “Fuck. It’s my dominant hand, too.”

“You’ll be out of commission for a while. Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” You look down at your twinging hand, a slice of shadow banding across it under the table. “I’d rather have a broken hand than be dead.”

“No one was going to kill you. Is that what Sirius has been telling you?” Marlene asks, glaring at Sirius from over her shoulder, her eyes like blue fire.

“No,” you say. “He didn’t have to say anything about it to me for me to know I was in danger.”

Marlene isn’t chastened. “You’re okay. James protected you, and he will again. You don’t need to worry about it, about any of that stuff.”

“That’s willfully ignorant,” Dorcas says.

Sirius takes another biscuit. “I actually agree.”

They’re friendly from then on. You don’t have it in you to be surprised.

—

James cannot stand London much longer. The police officers are knobs, the roads are shit, and now you’re getting attacked by freaks outside of the loneliest cinema he could find. He’s spent three hours in an interrogation room with a prick and one of the guys who tried to attack you, asking their intentions, who they work for, who they are, and it hasn’t mattered, when he could’ve been making sure you were alright. He gave strict instructions on how you were supposed to be treated and by who, but Sirius doesn’t always listen. What James realised somewhere between leaving you on the side of the road and the police station, is that he has sorely underestimated what needs to be done here to keep you safe. Dorcas might go a ways of helping that along, but he needs advice.

He needs Mary. Maybe Lily and Emmeline full time. He needs anyone willing to help him. Dearborn, the twins. Reinforcements are necessary.

He needs to breathe. He can’t believe you broke your hand doing something he should’ve done first.

“Fucking winded me,” he says to himself, rolling his sore shoulder as he takes the stairs to your flat two at a time. “Wanker.”

“Kiss your mum with that mouth?” Remus asks lightly.

He’s sitting at the end of the hallway away from your flat with the window wide open, a cigarette wobbling between his lips. It’s not lit yet.

“You should stay in bed,” James says, crossing the hall to stand by him. He finds a zippo lighter in Remus’ pocket and flicks it open, holding the flame to the cig, letting the end smoulder. “How is it?”

“It’s not that bad. Didn’t make me sick.”

“Wobbly?” James asks, closing the zippo to tuck away in his own pocket.

Remus takes a deep inhale, hand on the window ledge to steady himself. “Only when I breathe,” he says on the exhale.

They stand together for a bit. James sort of wants to smoke, it’s not like he didn’t do his fair share in school, but he was lucky it never caught him like Remus and Sirius, who both consider themselves casual smokers. I smoke to celebrate, Sirius said once, and to commiserate. So that’s a few a day, at least.

Remus is less inclined. James can’t blame him either way. Isn’t he owed a vice while his head rears to implode?

“How is the princess?” James asks eventually.

“I can’t confess to seeing much of her,” Remus says, voice light enough to imply that you’re fine. “But she’s spent the afternoon with a fracture and Sirius. I dare say she’s miserable.”

“Her hand is broken?”

“Yep. But it’s a boxer’s fracture, it’ll heal in a month.” Remus gets about halfway down his cigarette before he squints at James with suspicion. “You were in a rush.”

“Just checking you’re okay.”

“Mm.” He takes another drag before pulling the cigarette from his mouth, flicking a tall line of ash out of the window. “She’s not upset with you.”

“She should be.”

“James, you’re such a martyr.”

He shrugs. “I’m here to protect her and at the very first hurdle I’ve let her down. Actually, the second hurdle, because I’ve already hit her once, so hard she could barely keep her eyes open.”

“You didn’t hit her, don’t say that.”

“I did hit her.”

“With a door.”

“Yes, with a heavy object.”

“By accident!” Remus laughs and snuffs his cigarette on the wall outside the window, drawing the butt inside a curled fist. It makes James wince. “You’re alright. Truthfully I think she just wants to see you ‘cos you’re nice to her.”

“You’re nice to her.”

“Yes, but I’m not in the best working order right now.” He smiles. “And I’m not like you, I won’t put my arm around her.”

“Please don’t.”

“I won’t. I would if she was upset, but she doesn’t seem upset. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

“Don’t say it like that!”

Remus laughs again. “Like what? Stop making me laugh, my head is throbbing.”

Sirius once made Remus laugh so hard it prompted a migraine, or at least it was conveniently timed. He swore off jokes and being witty for a good two weeks. “Shall I never joke again?” James asks.

He sounds tired, even to himself.

“It’s a start,” Remus says.

“Time is it?”

“Time to stop being a coward, I think. Little after seven. You’re done?”

“Done. Too tired to make better decisions.”

“You know that song by the Rolling Stones, Miss You?” Remus presses his hand to an eye. “Stuck in my head.”

James loves how much Remus loves to talk to him. It’s stupid. “Guess I’m lying to myself, it’s just you and no one else,” James sing-songs quietly, with an eyebrow wiggle.

“I like your voice more than his.”

“Charmer.”

They follow one another down the hall to your door, where Mikkelson couldn’t look more bored keeping guard. Poor Mickey with the shit jobs and no company. At least he’s well paid. In the living room, there’s little evidence of the work he’s thought would be done here. No medical waste or mess, each pillow cleanly placed and each trinket of yours where you left it. There’s not much sound, but James cocks a trained ear and listens for everything. A rustle in the bathroom. A breath taken in the kitchen, then another. There’s definitely kissing, he thinks, heaving a horrendous sigh to let the lovebirds know they have company.

Could’ve been you and Sirius, but he can’t see it happening.

Marlene appears around the kitchen doorway, ever so slightly pink. “Hullo. Dinner?”

“Yeah, please.”

“Sure. Remus, you want something? Chicken soup?”

Marlene will make chicken soup as most Genovian would, with pastina or acini de pepe, fresh rosemary, thyme, and Parmesan rind shredded over the top. It’s no less delicious than any other dish in her arsenal, but it’s so, so homely that Remus sighs wistfully and James can’t not ask, “Soup for me, too?”

“Sure. It’s what I made for the princess, poor girl.”

“She’s in the bathroom?”

“For a while.” Marlene has the decency to smile apologetically. “You boys like red pepper, yeah?”

“And Sirius?”

“I don’t know, James, I’m not a psychic.”

“Right. Hi, Dorcas, how are you?”

Dorcas appears in the door. James might think she was reluctant if he didn’t know better; Dorcas doesn’t ever do anything she doesn’t want to do. Her smile says something unreadable. “Fine,” she says concisely.

James trudges away. In the bedroom, Sirius is curled up on your bed asleep. He shakes his head in wonderment and carries on to the bathroom. There’s water running behind the door, accompanied by the soft sounds of under-the-breath cursing.

“Angel,” he says before he can stop himself, “are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“James?”

“Yeah, are you okay?”

“James, I… have a long sleeve top on, and it’s hurting more than I thought with the cast. Can you… do you think Marlene would come help me?”

He shouldn’t — “I can help, angel. Is it hurting? You’re stuck, aren’t you?”

“Just a bit.”

Your hesitant voice echoing off the walls makes him chuckle. “I can get Marlene,” he says.

He’s already turning when you say, “Uh, no, that’s fine. Can you get me out?”

“Are you sure?”

“I want it to be you,” you say quietly.

James doesn’t know what to do with that. He opens the bathroom door and finds you uncomfortably twisted. You’ve tried to take off the sleeve on your injured arm first and ended up with the back of your shirt pulled away from you, pulled up, tight against your neck, a little gap between your chest and the fabric. You aren’t scandalous, barely undressed, but James knows you’re shy about how you look from fittings and intuition alike. He quickly encourages your uninjured hand into the air to loosen the band of fabric from behind your neck, and then easily tugs the entirety of it up your arms and off of you, more careful at your dominant hand. The moment you’re released, he takes the soft sleep shirt you’ve put on the laundry basket and ruches the sleeves. He sews your injured hand tentatively though one sleeve, then the other, before slipping it over your head and pulling it down. His knuckles skim your naked back, and he’s careful not to touch bare skin again. When he’s neatened you up, he holds your side in one hand. “Are you alright?” he asks, frowning.

“I know it’s just a fracture, but I feel like I can’t use it. Hurts.”

“There’s no such thing as just a fracture,” he says. “Fractures hurt. Your hand is broken, it’s alright if you can’t move it. Do you need any more help?”

You shake your head. “I managed the trousers by myself, thankfully.”

James looks you over and finds himself softening swiftly. He does feel sorry for you. He thinks you’re allowed an allotment of pity. But he also just likes you, and doesn’t want to see you in pain. His colossal guilt doesn’t help.

The darkness from outside is creeping in. You’ve a shadow on your cheek, another stretching out to your side. Your pajamas are worn —well-loved— a simple black t-shirt with a teddy bear on the chest and blue pajama trousers to match the teddy’s bow tie. You’ve the appearance of somebody who cried for a good hour or two, not so much splotchy or sore looking as simply coloured by the after effects of distress, a tiredness to your eyes that has nothing to do with sleep. You look small, but not in the sense of proportions. Just small.

“How’s your pain?” he asks you quietly.

“It’s not bad if I don’t move it.”

“Try not to, then.”

“Is everything okay?” you ask.

“It’s all fine. I don’t have any more answers for you. Please, forgive me.”

He knows a grudge hasn't crossed your mind. Still, he’s surprised again by your endless goodness, whether you might see it that way or not, your propensity for leniency and how it can be a brave, kind thing, “It wasn’t your fault, it just happened. I can’t imagine what would’ve happened if you weren’t there… Well, I can imagine. I can. And it really scares me.” You press your splinted hand to your abdomen. “Thank you for keeping me safe, James.”

I didn’t keep you safe, I barely got to you in time, he thinks. He’s in over his head. He’s practically drowning in shame and responsibility and self-obsessed inner turmoil.

He wants to be his best, for you. He wants to do this well.

James has no idea how he’s going to do this.

“You’re welcome,” he says, hiding everything but a stitch of breathlessness from his tone.

“Did you eat?” you ask.

In over his head. Drowning, maybe. “No. Did you?”

“I don’t have much appetite.”

“Marl’s made chicken soup with little pasta stars,” he says, nodding toward the door. “You’ll love it. Promise.”

“You’ll eat too?” you ask.

James feels a tightening in his stomach that he wisely ignores. Without answering aloud, he encourages you out of the bathroom to the kitchen, and you both eat.

He’s helping Marlene clear the plates away when you hesitate by the door. Sirius has unceremoniously tumbled from your bed to the sofa when Remus tried to rouse him, begging tiredly to be allowed to stay. You’d said yes without problem. You trust Sirius, and if you didn’t, James thinks you might trust him enough to know who you can be left alone with. Remus and Dorcas have been ferried back to the accommodation by one of the others. Marlene and James are set to leave together as soon as the kitchen is squared.

And yet you hesitate.

Haunting the door, James recognises the way one hand flutters, almost squeezes the air, wanting to wring the other but unable.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, trying to use his body as a wall to offer you some privacy.

“Nothing.”

“You can go to bed if you need to, you don’t have to wait for us.” He manages a smirk. “You want me to change the sheets, don’t you? That Sirius Black character is a real heathen, isn't he? I don’t think a day went by when we were kids where his bed wasn’t inundated with crumbs.”

“He ate in bed?” you ask.

“Small rebellions.”

“Remus says you guys shared a lot.”

“We did. I don’t really know why. I know boys aren’t ‘supposed’ to love each other like that, but we never grew out of it.” James lonely without his mum and dad’s bed to climb into, Sirius realising he could have comfort whenever he wanted, even if he didn’t need it, and Remus, usually unwilling, occasionally doing the work himself if it was what was necessary to sleep again after a bad dream. (And the other, who didn’t often share, but leaves a bad taste in James’ mouth to recall.)

“And it helped?”

“Sometimes.”

You squirm on the spot, but you force it out. “James, will you stay?” You’re apologetic. “I don’t think I can sleep if you go. I’m not scared, I promise, but…”

James’ voice gets caught behind his teeth.

“You don’t have to stay. I’ll be fine. But if you don’t mind, you can stay, you can have my bed, if you want, I’d just feel better if it was you.”

“Of course I’ll stay.”

You smile.

“It’s my job to look after you. If you feel better knowing I’m out here on the sofa, then I’ll stay.” He offers a smile usually saved for his friends.

“Okay.” Something in you has gone slack. You’re warmed from the inside out, and so suddenly tired. “You won’t go in the bed?”

“I won’t take it from you, no. I quite like how you make the sofa up, I’ll just shove Sirius over. I want the pillowcase with flowers and the blanket with fleece underneath, please.”

You leave to get his provisions. He follows your gaze. It’s why he knows you look back at him as you cross the threshold to your room.

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fic #james potter fluff #james potter blurb #james potter drabble #james potter imagine #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james potter scenario #james potter oneshot #the marauders #marauders era #marauders

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wileys-russo · 1 year ago

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she loves control II f.rolfö (18+)

part of the colourblind universe, warnings for dom/sub dynamics and smut, minors DNI. i still feel a little conflicted about writing smut for real people so this might suddenly disappear, we'll see! she loves control II f.rolfö (18+)

it hadn't taken long once you started properly going out with your now fiance that despite her soft and loving tendencies as a partner, frido not only needed but craved and relished being in control.

in control over you, your behaviour, your body, your routine, your orgasms. and it was even more of a surprise that you didn't mind, in fact you shamelessly lapped it up, finding it shockingly easy to let her take the lead over things.

you learned very quickly just how far she would go to put you back into place if you dared forget it, never to take her kindness for a weakness as in the blink of an eye she could go from ridiculously soft to domineeringly stern so fast it made your head spin and between your legs ache.

as much as it was very much a power shift to have her be so in control, fridolina never made you feel less than or like you had no choice in anything you did, and you knew if she did you were expected to communicate this to her and she'd go above and beyond to rectify it.

because as much as the defender swore up and down that she wouldn't, you knew she'd also do anything and go anywhere you asked at the drop of a hat, both of you just as much head over heels for one another and unable to imagine a life without the other in it.

you really started to get a taste for this side of your swedish lover on only your fifth date. up until then you'd gone out together to do things, having met through mutual friends at an engagement party and hit it off right away.

the first time you went out with one another you hadn't quite realised it was a date, fridolina so effortlessly charming and friendly with everyone you found yourself unsure if it was all in your head that she was being more flirty than friendly with you.

but she was quick to assure it wasn't in your head, rather teasing it seemed you'd occupied a space in hers and she hadn't been able to get you off her mind for the last week and a half since the two of you had initially been introduced.

but tonight was another step forward, frido having asked you over to her apartment for dinner, something seemingly more private and intimate than any of your dates had been before.

it would be the first time the two of you had spent any time together that wasn't in a public setting and it had you nervously excited as you double checked the address and exhaled, knocking on her door.

barely a few seconds passed before you heard a lock turn and the door swung open, a pearly white smile and bright water colour eyes greeting you.

"hallå kärlek." the girl greeted excitedly, tugging you inside and into a hug, the two of you melting into one another as she kicked the door closed behind you.

picking up on the slightly nervous energy radiating off of you frido was quick to press a soft and reassuring kiss to your lips, smiling warmly as the two of you unwrapped from one another and her hand interlocked with yours.

"let me give you the grand tour!"

"-and this is my bedroom." the blonde pushed open the door to the final room, hand still linked with yours as you smiled fondly, running a finger over a series of jade statues on her dresser.

"its very you." you laughed taking it all in. "i hope that is a compliment." the older girl playfully glared as you nodded and promised it was, your hands breaking apart as she took seat on the corner of her bed.

"i love this." you complimented, nodding to a bright orange armchair in the corner near her window and bathed in sunlight, a chunky knit blanket draped over its back. "my little reading nook." frido smiled fondly right as you started to look through her extensive bookshelf.

"did you know i also have the softest mattress in all of sweden?" the footballer wiggled her eyebrows as you caught her eye. "oh really?" you challenged taking a few steps toward her until you were stood between her legs.

"mmm really, here see for yourself." you squealed as she pulled on the belt loops of your pants sending you tumbling forward onto her bed.

"fridolina!" you laughed, kicking her playfully as she laid down right beside you with a cheeky grin. "what? see, softest mattress in sweden." the girl tutted, her hand reaching out to push a loose strand of hair out of your face as you shook your head with a smile.

"you have a staring problem." you teased as she shifted a little closer, propping her head up on her hand to look down at you. "not staring, admiring." frido corrected, revelling in the pink blush which coated your cheeks.

"du är så söt." the taller girl smiled and indeed to her you were very cute, leaning down to press her lips to yours again though a little more passionately than how she'd greeted you at the door earlier.

you pushed at her shoulders, her back now flat to the mattress as you hovered over her, her hand coming to clutch at the back of your neck pressing the two of you even closer together.

her spare hand ghosted your hip where your shirt rode up slightly, fingers ice cold in comparison to your warm skin and you felt a smile tug at her lips as you squirmed ever so slightly.

after what felt like an eternity but wasn't more than ten or so minutes you both pulled away, frido chasing after your mouth with a few more stolen kisses and a teasing tug on your bottom lip with her teeth.

"is asking girls over to make them dinner just a cheap excuse to get them into bed with you rolfö?" you teased with a grin as the blonde playfully huffed and rolled her eyes.

"no it is an expensive one, the softest mattress in sweden is not cheap!"

"what happened to 'come over and i'll cook you dinner'?" you teased as the blonde grabbed out a variety of vegetables from the crisper, rinsing them and lining them up neatly on a tea towel draped over the counter in front of you.

"i am cooking, and you are prepping!" the girl bonked you softly on the nose with a carrot as you rolled your eyes in amusement. "snälla, don't roll your eyes at me." the words sounded soft as she paired them with a kiss, but they had your stomach twisting ever so slightly.

an early sign if you'd been paying enough attention at the time.

"please dice these and these finely, and then you can chop these a little rougher." frido explained pointing to different items as you nodded, rewarded with another kiss for your agreement as frido handed you a knife and grabbed her phone from her pocket.

"the song!" you laughed as she clicked play and the familiar tune sounded from the speaker atop her fridge, frido grinning with a nod and placing her phone down on the benchtop.

"may i have this dance...again?" the blonde asked with a cheeky smile, extending her hands toward you as you shook your head but took them none the less.

the song had been one the dj had easily played ten times at the engagement party where the two of you had met, becoming an ongoing joke with the pair of you that night to dance together every time it did, though a little drunker and with a little less balance as time dragged on.

"you are much more stable on your feet when you've had one glass of wine and not a few bottles!" you teased as she drew your body into hers, humming along and swaying the two of you side to side. "hey!" the footballer gasped pinching your hip gently.

"it was not a few bottles." the taller girl pouted as you smiled, craning your neck up to steal a few kisses, frido glancing over your shoulder every now and then checking on the meat which was slowly browning in the pan.

"no no you're right, it was a lot more." you patted her shoulder sympathetically as she gasped again and you let out a squeal as your body was dipped and almost hit the floor before she pulled you back up with a twirl.

"frido don't do that!" you hit her chest lightly, the smirk not dropping from her cherry red lips at all. "do what? this?" you squealed again as she dipped you once more even lower this time, bending down to hover her mouth above yours.

"you know if i did not pursue football i could have been a ballroom dancer." frido sighed dramatically with a small shrug, pulling you back up before you could kiss her, twirling you around and gently pushing you back toward the counter where the vegetable prep was waiting.

"really?" you questioned both in amusement and disbelief, taking your seat again, quirking an eyebrow at her as she nodded enthusiastically. "really. watch!" she grabbed her phone and changed songs, quickly tossing the meat about in the pan and flicking it down to a low heat.

"it is all about the counting and the steps, the key is to control your movements and have patience with the timing." frido explained, moving into position in the middle of her kitchen. "for example, the waltz-" she gestured for you to start cutting as you smiled but did so, picking up the knife.

"you go forward on your left foot, then to the side with your right foot but so it stays in line with the left, then you move your left to meet your right. and then you step backwards with your right foot, then to the side with your left foot but again always in line, then move the right to meet the left and repeat!" the defender demonstrated as she spoke and you had to admit she did not miss a single step.

"tack så mycket!" the blonde bowed and gestured her hands about dramatically as you clapped and whistled your approval, frido sending you a wink before quickly turning back to the meat.

satisfied with how it was browning she moved it aside to a bowl and tossed in an onion she'd already diced to caramelise. then for a moment she glanced behind her, eyebrows furrowing slightly at your own dicing technique.

"nej." you looked up at her voice, pausing your movements with a confused frown. "nej nej nej nej." the taller girl tutted with a shake of her head, quickly rounding the counter and moving in behind you.

her arms snuck around your torso, taller more muscular body pressing into the back of yours and caging you against the cold marble countertop. her slender fingers decorated with a few chunky rings tapped at the top of your hand and you dropped the knife on instinct, tensing a little as her nose brushed against the crook of your neck.

"not like that." frido tutted softly, grabbing the knife and your hand having you hold it as her own hands sat atop yours. "more like this. slower, finer, neater." frido murmured, breath warm against your ear as her hands moved yours much like a puppeteer, doing the movements for you and guiding them as if they were her own.

"understand?" the blonde asked quietly stilling your hands in hers and you nodded. "use your words, please." her tone just slightly more firm you again felt a strange feeling in your stomach. "i understand." you confirmed, feeling her smile into your shoulder.

"good, show me." she encouraged, a kiss pressed to the base of your neck as her hands moved instead to settle on your hips, pushing them ever so slowly into the counter as more of her body weight bore into you from behind.

"is this okay?" she asked before you could move, clearly referring to your current position as you nodded, frido opening her mouth before you realised your error and quickly corrected it.

"yes, it's nice." you confirmed verbally, earning you a proud smile and another kiss to your cheek. "good, now show me." she repeated, chin hooking over your shoulder as you resisted temptation to melt entirely into the warmth of her hold.

"very good, very very good." the defender praised at how quickly you picked up the change, dicing exactly as she'd shown you. once again at the praise this time your stomach flipped and something clicked, you wanted to please her, wanted her to be happy with you.

"you are a quick learner and a good listener kärlek." frido complimented, your head turning and chin tilting upward as reading your mind fridos own ducked and her lips rewarded you with a few proper kisses this time.

satisfied with your technique now it matched hers she left you to it, quickly moving back toward the stove top as you tried to pretend you didn't miss the way it felt having her pressed against you.

normal conversation flowed between you as sure enough you prepped and she cooked, rewarded for each task completed with a soft thank you, gentle praise and a kiss from the blonde, and you'd be lying if you said it wasn't affecting you just a little.

"please let me help!" you offered yet again, dinner done and your date about to wash everything up, frido shaking her head. "no, you just sit there and look pretty." the girl winked, another blush coating your cheeks at her words.

"you are quite the charmer." you smiled, resting your chin on your hand and trying not to focus on the way her arms rippled as she scrubbed, her hoodie sleeves pulled up to her elbows.

"well when the soft mattress trick does not work i need to use the rest of my tool belt to get pretty girls in bed." frido teased as you gasped softly and shook your head.

"so am i just one of your girls then?" you tutted playfully as she winked, wiping her hands on a tea towel as the water drained from the sink and she appeared now in front of you.

your breath caught a little in your throat as her hands cupped your face, bright eyes boring down into you with a smile so sweet it could rot a tooth, her thumbs tenderly tracing your jaw.

"no, you are one very special girl."

your face heating up your eyes moved to avoid hers on instinct, her pointer finger tapping your cheek with a small hum to capture your attention again.

"eyes on me when i speak to you." her tone sharpened slightly, eyebrows creased ever so slightly as her eyes searched yours for any sign of discomfort at the fact but to her pleasure she found none.

"they are so lovely, you should not hide them." her voice softened again, lips curling into a smile as yours did the same. "you're one to talk, your eyes are like a water colour painting." you quipped back, a chuckle leaving her mouth.

"well well well, whose the charmer now?"

from that day forward the two of you continued to see one another until eventually dates bled into seeing her near daily and you both realised this was becoming something more serious.

not a doubt in her mind that you really were a special girl frido was quick to ask you to be hers, officially, and without a pause at all you said yes.

as more time passed the blondes need for control became less and less subtle, as did your blatantly obvious response to it, one which pleased your girlfriend very very greatly.

as much as fridolina might have needed control, you needed her to take it just as much and gave it over more than willingly. you found the way she doted on you and made sure to correct any small behaviour or habit to her liking only made you fall for her more.

but again despite the way she could often switch so easily between soft and stern, you never ever felt mistreated or manipulated. she wanted you to do as she asked and you wanted to be told what was required of you.

“baby its big, bigger than what i’ve taken before.” you chewed your bottom lip nervously, sizing it up where it sat in the tall blondes hand.

“I know, but you can do it. I know you can.” your girlfriend encouraged with a soft coo, nodding and caressing your cheek with her spare hand, using her thumb to tug your lip out from between your teeth with a small pop.

“It’s not going to be easy, i’m going to choke on it.” you sighed with a small shake of your head.

“no you will not kärlek, you just drink some water first and breathe in and out through your nose as you take it, like we practised.” the blonde reminded with another nod of encouragement. “okay.” you gave in, smile curling into frido’s features.

“give it to me.” you gave your own nod, looking more determined than you actually felt. “good, very good.” the blonde praised and you melted, readying yourself with a deep inhale.

then doing as she suggested you took a large mouthful of water, swallowing and extending your palm as your girlfriend placed the huge multivitamin into it, kissing your cheek as you popped the pill into your mouth and with a small struggle managed to get it down.

“see? easy. so dramatic for nothing!” frido teased, stealing a kiss and swallowing the crude remark back which sat on the tip of your tongue. “your health is important älska, you have to look after your body and your mind.” she smiled, lightly tapping your forehead with her pointer finger making you smile.

never much of a possessive woman, knowing that just as much as she was obsessed with you, you were just as much enamoured with her, it didn't stop your blonde lover from asserting herself just a little bit more when the two of you were out with friends.

"ready?" your girlfriend asked with a smile, car engine dying off as she twisted the key and you nodded. "you look beautiful raring." the blonde sighed, eyes raking over the outfit and accessories she'd carefully and lovingly picked by hand for you to wear.

"and you look gorgeous." you complimented back, fixing a slight smudge of her lipstick where you'd kissed her as the two of you got ready earlier. "i only look so good because i have you on my arm." the taller girl flirted with a wink as you rolled your eyes and pushed her lightly.

"hej. don't roll your eyes at me baby." a large hand grabbed your jaw, the slight pressure of how it squeezed a stark contrast to the way her finger ever so gently traced beneath your bottom lip.

"jag ber om ursäkt." you apologised sincerely, a happy smile in her features at how quickly you did so. "good girl." the defender breathed out, smile turning to a smirk at the slight pink tint in your cheeks.

that was another newer discovery, the way that two seemingly simple words could have you just as flustered as anything, your girlfriend figuring out early on that much as she adored you doing what she asked, you flourished in the praise she gave you after doing so.

“are you nervous?” frido picked up on the slight waver in your normally confident demeanour right away, eyes raking over you with concern. “a little, i want to make a good impression on your friends älskling.” you admitted, not having met this particular group just yet but they were old friends your girlfriend had gone to school with and you knew they meant a lot to her.

“min kärlek, they will love you, in fact they would be crazy not to. i am very very happy with you, they will see that because i make no move to hide it, this is the happiest i have been in a long time.” the taller girl promised, softly and sincerely as butterflies fluttered around your stomach.

“tack så mycket.” you thanked her, leaning over the dash to kiss her but her hand stopped you, your breath hitching as it wrapped gently around your neck, not applying any pressure but effectively stopping you in your tracks.

“later. i do not want you to smudge your lipstick that colour is just so perfect on you, my pretty girl.” the blonde complimented, grinning at the blush which followed. “matches these eh?” she teased, poking your cheek with her finger and letting go of your neck as you backed up.

you exhaled and took a second to collect your thoughts as your girlfriend stepped out of the car, quickly appearing at your door and pulling it open, extending a hand to help you out.

you murmured a soft thanks, the door closing and car locked as the pair of you headed across the parking lot toward the restaurant you were headed to meet with some of the blonde’s friends.

your girlfriends large hand sat flush against the small of your back, guiding you across the asphalt and toward the sound of glasses clinking and laughter. but the closer you got the more frido’s hand started to creep higher and higher, and by the time you were greeted by the hostess it sat against the back of your neck.

the small gesture was so common to you by now though you hardly noticed, in fact it felt a comfort of some sorts knowing she was right there.

frido was also comforted by the fact that with a grip on the back of your neck it was much easier to control your movements through the crowded restaurant, keeping you locked besides her as the pair of you were lead over to the table already filled with her friends.

you smiled warmly as your girlfriend introduced you to them one by one, her hand again sliding down to the small of your back, guiding you to sit down right beside her once introductions were done.

it then moved to sit on your thigh just above your knee, the blonde never without a hand on you practically at all times, especially when out around others. though it wasn’t one that held an intention of possession, your girlfriend knew you were hers and she was yours and you didn’t have an eye that would ever wander, but it was more so to remind constantly that she was there.

“what looks good?” frido murmured as a menu was slipped in front of you, a gentle squeeze of her hand against your knee capturing your attention, not that it had slipped away for a second. “what looks good to you?” you repeated the question back almost right away.

“i asked you käraste, i expect an answer please.” your girlfriend murmured tone just a touch firmer as you nodded, her thumb tracing circles against your skin absentmindedly. you scanned the menu and offered up a few options, deciding to just split them between you.

as the waiter approached and began to take everyone’s order eventually his eyes turned to you, a smile and a raised eyebrow indicating it was your turn. “she will have the garlic prawn hot pot to start, the beef bourguignon for main and a glass of pinot blanc with ice.”your girlfriend ordered for you with a charming smile before ordering her own meal, hand still firmly planted on your leg.

you were pulled into conversation quickly once everyone had ordered but you let your girlfriend take the lead, knowing when to answer or chime in as frido would gently squeeze your leg in a silent permission.

when your wine came the blonde took it from the waiters hand before giving it to you, the same actions repeated with your meals. as it grew later in the evening her hand had travelled from your leg to again gently caress the back of your neck. sender fingers toying with the baby hairs curled there, arm draped over your shoulder and your chair scooted closer so your body was pressed against hers.

every little movement was calculated. the hands on your thigh, ordering for you, leading the conversation, all the ever so subtle signs of just how much she loved control, and you lapped every bit up happily.

there were of course other much less subtle ways that fridolina asserted her dominance, and by far your favourite was of course when the two of you were hidden away in the privacy of her bedroom.

from the very first time you shared your bodies with one another though the footballer made sure you were okay with everything, communication was just as important to her as control and you knew it was her expectation you uphold that.

you were back on the softest mattress in sweden once again, as the girl loved to remind you mainly so you’d shut her up with a kiss.

but this time the kisses were a little different, they held a slight air of longing and need, the air seemed to be filled with a new and exciting tension, something both of you had picked up on.

so it was not to your girlfriends surprise when you moved to now be on top of her, your hands cupping her face and deepening the kiss further, but as always frido was the one in control as her hand sat on the back of your head so you couldn’t pull away.

her tongue licked filthily into your mouth and you shifted, the tiniest of noises made as frido’s lips curled into a slightly smug smile and her hand moved, both of them tapping your thighs before gently pushing at your shoulders.

“are you okay?” you questioned with a slight frown of concern, chest heaving just a little as you caught your breath. “more than okay kärlek, but i want to check something with you.” you shuffled back slightly as the blonde sat up, you still perched on her lap as you nodded for her to continue.

“i need you to tell me if you want to take things further than just kissing, i need your consent.” the footballer requested softly, brushing a loose piece of hair behind your ear as you melted. “i’ve been ready for awhile now, i promise you have my full consent.” you murmured, pecking her lips a few times in between words.

“good. now, i need you to promise me if there is anything you do not like or you change your mind you will tell me right away.” her tone shifted slightly as you nodded. “no. use your words, and look at me when you speak to me.” your breath hitched as her hand gripped your jaw, turning your head to face her again as your eyes strayed for a moment and hers bore into you expectantly.

“i promise.” you spoke sure of yourself, frido smiling clearly pleased and letting go of your jaw. you used this slight moment of freedom to grab the hem of your top, pulling it off of you and tossing it over your shoulder, grinning at the way the defenders eyes widened in surprise.

“i need you.” you whispered, thumb tracing her jawline as something shifted in the way she gazed at you. you let out a squeal as within seconds you were pinned beneath her, hands pressed either side of your head as her body straddled your hips pressing them down into the mattress.

“oh no no baby you might want me, but only i know what you need.” frido’s lips ghosted yours, head pulling back as you tried to capture them with your own, cherry red and painted into a very smug smile.

“say it.” the blonde encouraged, eyes twinkling as your heart raced beneath her. “say it. you should know that i do not like to repeat myself älskade.” your girlfriend warned, your head spinning at the way she could so easily flitter between soft and stern.

“only you know what i need.”

“duktig flicka.” frido praised, letting go of your hands as one of hers settled on your cheek and the other trailed a single finger slowly down your chest as you shivered slightly. “are you cold?” the girl teased as your nipples visibly hardened.

though your reply was swallowed by her lips hungrily devouring yours again, your back arching slightly off the mattress as two fingers teasily ghosted your inner thighs, gone as quickly as they were there as you moaned quietly and the blonde sucked harshly on your bottom lip.

“frido.” you breathed out as her lips moved to your neck, the taller girl knowing every little spot to pay close attention to as your eyes fluttered close. “mmm? what do you want sötnos? use your words.” she teased, stealing them as her teeth sank into your neck and your hips bucked against her.

“you. i want you.”

“me? but baby you have me, i’m right here no?” she tutted, your head pushing back into the pillow as a large hand cupped your left breast and squeezed, her fingers toying with the hardened peak of your nipple.

growing tired of trying to find the right words to get what you want you decided actions might speak a little louder. so with your hands no longer pinned to the bed you grabbed one of hers which sat on your cheek, slipping the slender digits into your mouth and smiling at the way her face changed.

“behövande flicka.” frido breathed out, eyes lit with a new spark as you sucked on her fingers, gagging slightly as she began to rock them into your mouth at a pace set of her own accord, knocking your hand away where it held hers.

once more your hips bucked as her other hand came to settle on your neck, not applying any pressure but even the feel of her callous palm against your throat made your head spin. as her fingers left your mouth it wasn’t without a trail of spit, your cheeks flushing red as frido wiped it off against your naked chest.

You breathed out a sigh of contement as finally her attention seemed to start to go where you both knew you needed her, lips trailing soft kisses down your chest as her body slipped off of you slightly and you exhaled as her hand again ghosted your underwear.

“so wet and i’ve barely touched you.”

the teasing tone in her voice just made you want her more, eyes slipped closed as her fingers toyed with the waistband of your underwear, snapping it against your hips.

“look at me.” they snapped open at her voice, her hand moved to grip your jaw as you felt her hand slip into your underwear and whined slightly. “you will look at me while i fuck you kärlek, and you will not look away until i tell you to or i stop.” the blonde warned sternly and you nodded.

“words.” she ordered, squeezing your jaw and your body bucked as a singular finger slipped inside you. “yes.” you nodded, a tap to your cheek reminding you of her previous demand as your eyes opened and locked with hers.

you felt your face burn bright red as you held eye contact and a second finger entered you, her pace picking up as your hands fisted the bedsheets, her lips curled into an obnoxiously smug smirk.

“such a pretty girl, all red and blushing just for me.” the blonde cooed, and there was something about the sudden switch in tone for you to whine. “no no, you will watch kärlek or you will not come.” she warned firmly as your eyes fluttered shut and her fingers pistoned in and out, setting a rhythm which had you squirming beneath her in need.

“are you close baby?” she pouted mockingly feeling your walls tighten and something about it had you pushed even further to the edge, her bodyweight baring down onto you pinning your bucking hips to the mattress. “yes!” you moaned out as your voice cracked, barely able to get the word out but knowing thats what she wanted.

“good girl. now ask me if you can come, and if you ask me nicely enough älskling then maybe i’ll allow it.”

#woso community #woso #fridolina rolfö x reader #fridolina rolfo x reader #fridolina rolfö #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs

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