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#LET ME TELL YOU- LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING!!!
nighttimealone · 3 days
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Cw: Nsfw (Car sex)
Car sex isn’t something for König, or at least that’s what he thought before he met you. He’s huge, those long legs doesn’t even fit into the driving seat without bumping his knees, and he always has to be extra careful when shifting his body, so he won’t hit his head on the roof. Squeezing into his car is already a hard task for him, let alone trying to fuck someone within it.
You changed his mind, though. Always wearing those short skirts that barely cover your pretty ass, with a thong—or even without any underwear if you feel extra naughty that day— sparing you both from the trouble to take off your clothes in the cramped vehicle.
Just like tonight, your white skirt rides up to your hips, the exquisite pink thong he bought for you nudged aside as you sit on his lap,
“Scheiß, keep going, Süße, just like that, keep bouncing on my cock…” König’s panting heavily as he encouraging you to continue. He has lowered the seat, letting it lean back so he can give you more space to do your work. He loves the view, looking up at you fucking yourself on his fat dick, tits bouncing with every movements while you slam your ass down, taking his cock so well, and from this angle, he’s able to see how your perfect cunt wrapped around him, juices coating his cock, covering its every inches and veins as the fat tip of his emerges and disappears into it repeatedly.
“Want to come, baby, can’t last long.” Bracing yourself with both hands on his chest, you look down to meet his deep blue eyes, picking up the pace after he gets too excited from seeing the desires in your glossy eyes and rock his hips upwards into you briefly. You can’t help the moans and whimpers slipping out of your lips, not when his cock rutting into you and the veins glide against the g spots and all during its way.
“Come for me, liebe, come for me…” His hands now rest on your hips, pinning you on his cock when you nod and scream out his name in pleasure, and coaxing his own orgasm out with your warm cunt clenching down in release.
“Let’s go home?” You lift your head up from his chest and suggest, while you still pout without you even noticing when he pulls out, already missing how well it stretched you just minutes ago although he just ended up with a load inside you.
“Ja, let’s go home.” He tugs at your thong, staining with obvious white cum standing out from the pink fabric, let it cover up that swollen clit and puffy lips again and give it a pat.
A huff of laughter escaping his throat when König sets you back on the passenger seat, he can tell you’re still needy from the little pout of your plump lips. Don’t worry, Engel, he still got the whole night for you, and as an appreciation for your hard work, he’ll bend you over all your favorite places in home, fuck you nicely with his monstrous cock till you squirt and drenching him in your juices.
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huh-i-guess · 2 days
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Fever
(Task force 141 x F!reader)
Summary: While out on a mission you are injected with a substance that might lead to a shift in the dynamics between the 141.
Warnings: SMUT 18+, sex pollen, fingering, dub-con/non-con (under the influence of sex pollen), choking, nasty Simon, Gaz has morals
Word Count: ~ 4.2k
(Reader's callsign is Pepper)
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I don't own MW2, the characters, or the gif above.
“What the fuck was that?” You shouted as you felt a sharp pricking sensation on your left ass cheek. You reached behind you to feel what was causing the sensation and groaned as you felt a syringe protruding from your behind. You looked down and noted that you had stepped on a pressure plate of some kind and triggered the laboratory’s defense mechanism.
“Oh fuck, lass.” Johnny mumbled.
“Shit, Pepper.” Gaz exclaimed in disbelief.
“No fucking way. Why does this shit always happen to me?” You yanked the dart-like needle from your behind and examined the leftover contents. The remaining contents appeared to be a blue syrup-like fluid. You sighed and pocketed the syringe hoping you could take it back to base to have it examined by the scientists at the lab. 
“Pepper, what was that?” Price called over the comms hearing the distress in everyone’s voices. Your thoughts ran at a mile a minute as you tried to figure out if you should tell your captain, that you probably had a mild crush on and always wanted to impress, that you just stepped on a trap. Or if you should lie. You hated lying to Price. It felt like you were letting him down and any time you did, you found yourself immediately retracting your statement and telling him the truth hoping he’d forgive your indiscretion. You readied your mouth to let out some kind of answer but snapped your mouth shut as you heard Gaz from your right side, “Looks like they tranqed Pepper or something. We were sweeping the lab and she was the first one in.” You turned your head toward Gaz and offered him a look that was a mix of thankfulness and regret. 
“Shite. You're still standing, lieutenant?” Price probed in a tone that, only those close to him could tell, was full of doubt and concern.
“Yes sir.” You pushed further into the lab taking extra care where your steps landed. The lab had been recently abandoned by russian terrorists working on some kind of bioweapon. You could only hope that you didn’t just get dosed with whatever they were concocting. As the three of you pressed further into the dingy lab you felt like the mass of your body was slowly doubling. 
“Soap. Gaz. If I drop, I need two to keep moving. We need to get this intel out of here as soon as we find it.” You could faintly hear the heavy footsteps of the terrorists behind you.
“No way in hell we’re leaving you behind.” Gaz contended. 
“Listen I-” 
You were quickly interrupted by Laswell’s voice in your ear, “Pepper. Evac will get to you and the boys in 11 minutes. It’ll be 2 clicks north of your current location. We’ll get you to the safe house from there.” 
“Copy.” You replied as Soap took a step closer and fixed his mouth to ready a response to your order. 
“Lass I don-”
“Listen. We don't have time for this. I don’t know what I got hit with but I know that at the moment we have a job to do. Let’s keep moving while I can and clear the files we came for. You will keep moving if I drop and that’s final. This mission can't be a waste of time.” You were met with an apprehensive “Yes Ma’am” and a “got it LT” and you snapped your head around to continue sweeping the lab. 
You knew you were being harsh but if you gave them room to argue you’d be stuck here going back and forth with them about it. Truthfully it was a ruse to make it look like you weren’t basically shitting bricks. You couldn’t stop the thoughts that flew through your mind.  I’m going to die today. Holy fuck I’m not making it out of this. I don’t know what I got hit with. How long do I have? You didn’t have much going on in your home life so the thought of a family didn’t even cross your mind until you thought about who around you did have one. Soap had his sisters back in Scotland that loved to “force” him to watch those really crappy rom-coms that he claimed he hated so much but then recommended for team bonding nights. Then you had Gaz who had his mom waiting at home for him. She always sent him care packages with little hand written notes that gave him updates on the status of his neighbors’ cat who had slowly been making itself comfortable on their property back in London. She even sent him photos of the cheeky little tuxedo cat. Your mind shifted from thoughts about yourself to thoughts about them. I have to get these boys out of here. They have so much going for them. They really are some of the best we have to offer. I can’t let them down. If I can't get out of here at least they can. 
Gaz went to the computer and plugged in a decryption device and began to sift through the scientist's digital files while Soap went through some of the scattered papers left in the room.
“They were in such a rush to get out of here they weren’t even effective at scrubbing their drives. Pep, I think I might have something.” You walked to the computer Gaz was stationed at and noticed a folder titled “Project Vitality”. 
“Good job, Gaz get it and we go. Soap anything?”
“A couple of poorly redacted files with the same name.” Soap chipped from your left. You made your way to him and patted his shoulder in praise.
“Alright we gotta move.” You heard the footsteps boom as the incoming enemies approached. You felt yourself slowly start to stall and noticed you had a difficult time focusing your eyes. It was like you were wearing a pair of glasses that weren’t meant for you and you couldn’t take them off. You willed your eyes to focus but it was becoming a hassle. Fuck me. You turned your head to Soap on your left and said, “Soap I need you to take point on the way out. I'll watch our backs as we exit.”
“Are you-” he started then pressed out a short, “Will do.” The look on his face was filled with so much concern, that for his sake, you almost wanted him to ask you if you were okay. He turned and rushed out of the room followed by Gaz and you at the back. The three of you navigated the winding corridors of the combatant base and made your way back, passing the rooms you had previously cleared. 
“Pepper. How we doing?” Price questioned over comms.
“Got the documents and drives, sir.”
“I know you did. That’s not what I’m asking about.”
“What kind of answer do you want, Cap?
“You know what I want to hear.” You knew Price wanted the truth but you couldn't let him know the fact that you might be starting to lose motor function and that the mass of your body felt like it had doubled. There was a large part of you that wanted to make him proud and craved his approval so the thought of disappointing him always stirred something deep inside you. But then there was Gaz and Soap. They were your sergeants and they often looked to you for guidance. The image they had of you rarely faltered from confidence and strength. They were right by your side and were clearly worried for you. If you told the truth to them they probably want to stop and question your status or maybe even try to do some kind of makeshift field evaluation on you and you’d definitely lose out on valuable time. 
A shaky, “I’m doing just fine, sir.” fell from your lips then silence. A sigh from Price that was then followed by a gruff, “Bring it in safe. I’ll see you in a bit.”
“Of course sir.” You acknowledged. He knew you were lying. The slight tremor in your voice told him exactly what he needed to know. 
Soap led the three of you out of the compound but not without running into a couple of the remaining terrorists that missed your group upon arrival. You, although struggling to see and move, caught the slight movement as you three made your way to the entrance of the compound. A brown jacket sleeve that moved just a bit too slow was all you needed to gather that the combatants had reached your location. Years of intense practice and strenuous training had you firing your weapon with a practiced precision that was barely impacted by your declining physical state. 
As soon as you exited the compound you were met with a glaring brightness from the snow of the siberian tundra. The almost blinding whiteness was a massive contrast to the dimly lit compound so the massive shift in intensity had your head spinning. Gaz noticed you stumbling but only met you with a face of concern and a hand on your shoulder as he watched you struggle to get your bearings. 
Trekking through the Siberian tundra in your worsening condition was one of the hardest things you'd had to do in your career. The whirling of the wind was so intense that it felt like someone was screaming directly next to your ear and the pressure of it was enough to make your head pound. The snow was coming down so hard that each snowflake that hit your face felt like a tiny pin prick over and over again. Your feet were so deep in the snow that it felt like you were gaining an extra 20 pounds of weight with the effects of the drug starting to control your movements. You tried to pull yourself together. It was undeniable at this point that you would not be winning the battle against whatever medication they injected you with.
“2 minutes till evac” Ghost chimed in your earpiece. Your hearing was so sensitive that you could almost feel the loud mechanical static and the whirl of the helicopter in the background of his response.
“Oh my days. Ghost is the one flying us out? I don’t want to end up out the bloody chopper again” Gaz groaned. Oh. I wasn’t the only one to hear the helicopter then. 
“It was either me or you freeze out there, Sergeant.”
“LT, if you fly that thing the way you drive, Gaz might be better staying down here. Less chance of him getting thrown from the bloody thing.” Soap chirped. 
The world slowly started to look like a mass of colors and shapes with no definite beginning or end. The only thing you could do at this point was push and pray that you were gonna have enough strength to make it to the evac point. Everything was so intense that overwhelming wasn't even the right word to describe the feeling. You struggled to pick up your head as you began to hear another distinct whooshing sound that could only belong to that of a Puma HC2.
“I’m here aren’t I?” Soap and Gaz stopped moving as Ghost put the helicopter on the ground. 
“I’m glad you are sir. Good to see you, Ghost.” Soapsaid as he flung the door open and made his way on the aircraft.
“Always good to see that ugly mug of yours, Johnny.” Ghost turned his head to get a good look at everyone. “ Pepper, you don't look too hot.” Ghost concluded as you dragged yourself into the seat next to what you could have only imagined was Gaz. The words that came out of your mouth were something along the lines of “Not” and “Good” but no one really understood you with how slurred your response was. They did however understand that something was really wrong when your body slumped backward and went limp next to Gaz. You could vaguely hear the commotion of Gaz, Soap, and Simon, around you as they shouted your name and desperately tried to keep you from slipping out of consciousness. The last thing you heard was Price pressing to be informed on your state and him telling Ghost to get all of you to the safe house. 
---
“A neurotoxin that sends the body into overdrive. Increases nervous sensitivity and impulsivity, and impairs functionality of the prefrontal cortex and hippocampus.” Price read from the lab report with a stubby cigar in hand.
“Why the hell would they want to make something like that?” Gaz questions.
“Apparently in small doses it can be used as an aphrodisiac that it increases blood flow throughout the body, promotes sexual stamina, and increases pleasure outcomes? They must’ve been trying to develop something to sell on the streets.” Price continues.
“Right so they dosed her with super viagra?” Soap questioned. 
“That's what it sounds like?” Gaz said. 
“I thought that stuff didn't work on women?” Simon interjected. 
“It looks like they’ve altered it so it impacts both sexes but they haven’t been able to work out the less desirable symptoms. Tachycardia, fever, headache, dizziness, loss of consciousness, heart failure, and death.” Price paced as he read the outcomes. 
“Oh shit.”
“Heart failure? Death? How do we make sure that that doesn’t happen?” Gaz frantically questioned.
“The only way the toxin can be expelled from the body is through coitus…” Price trailed off as he dropped his cigar into a bowl. That can’t be right. He read it three times just to be sure and the words on the page didn’t change. 
“Steamin’ Jesus.” Soap deadpanned.
“No blood way.” Gaz stood with an open mouth. 
“Someone has to fuck her.” Simon said. 
---
When you awoke, you noticed you were lying on a firm mattress and were surrounded by the smell of smoke laced with a heavy sweetness that only came from Price’s cigars. You felt undeniably cold and couldn’t help but to shiver. You rubbed your fingers across your palms and felt them drenched in sweat. As you slowly began to turn to your side, you were overwhelmed with the feeling of the rough sheet that laid under you. 
“What the fuck?” You noticed that you had been stripped out of your vest and snow gear and were left in your black polyester thermals. You could feel every inch of fabric that you wore and immediately moved to take off the thermals. You were left in your sports bra and underwear.  Why am I taking off my clothes? I’m freezing? You ran your hands up and down your body trying to get a semblance of warmth but then decided that putting thermals back on would be too much for your unusually sensitive skin. As you dragged your hand down the sides of your thighs you couldn't help but notice how good it felt to touch yourself. You moved your hands to your inner thighs and couldn’t contain the moan that slipped from your mouth. You brushed your hand over the gusset of your panties and whined at the feel of your hand gliding over your already sensitive clit. 
“Pepper?” rushed out of Gaz’s mouth as he entered the room. He looked over to the pile of thermals on the end of the bed. “How are you feeling?” he probed.  When did Gaz get so attractive? He wore a red henley that hugged his arms perfectly and his soft curls made an appearance without the presence of his well worn UK hat. He made his way over to you and touched your forehead. “You’re burning up. Damn. The fever’s started.” The feeling of his hand on you was almost indescribable. He was warm and firm and exactly what you felt you needed at that moment. 
You felt yourself acting on purely impulse as you grabbed his hand and dragged it down to your mouth. You started to kiss his palm and moved your attention to his thumb. You placed it firmly between your lips and began to suck. “Oh fuck.” Gaz exhaled as he watched you with wide eyes. You continued your ministrations and moved from his thumb to his index and middle fingers. You began to lick around his digits before you engulfed them in your mouth with a guttural moan. You could taste the salt and gunpowder from the mission and it only made you crave him more. You lifted your gaze to him and willed your eyes to meet his. The groan that fell from his lips was divine. You removed his fingers from your mouth and helped his hand descend to where you really needed him. “Fuck. No. I can't do that princess. Not when you're like this.”
“But I really really want you to. Come on, Kyle. It’ll help me feel so much better.” You purred. Gaz let out a shaky breath, pulled his hand from you, and walked out the room but not without you noticing him readjusting himself in his pants. Fine, I'll do it myself. You sighed and pulled your panties down your legs till they rested at your ankles. You slid your fingers between your legs and gasped at how wet you were. You slowly started to trail your finger through your folds, collecting some of the wetness that had dripped from you and began to rub your clit. As soon as your finger pressed against your reactive little nub you were in heaven. You started in small circular motions and rubbed until you felt you needed more. You moved your other hand to your breast and tugged at your nipple. You kneaded and grabbed your breast like it was the key to your survival. You’ve never felt like this before. It's like you can feel everything, everywhere, all at the same time. You felt the rough fabric of the sheets, the scratchy wool of the pillow behind your head and you felt the soft cotton that was resting around your ankles.  You were still shivering from the fever but you felt like you could feel the stimulation of your clit in your toes. You needed more. 
You moved your hand from your plush breast to rest right at your soaked opening. You circled your middle finger a few times just to get it wet, and sank right into your leaking entrance. “Oh fuuuuuck”. You could feel the pressure of the finger at your walls as you started to curve your finger inside of yourself searching for your g-spot. You continued rubbing your clit and curling your finger inside of you hoping to seek your elease. It felt so good but it just wasn't enough. You slipped in another finger and moaned at the intrusion. You started to pant and whine with how good you were feeling, but you felt yourself needing more. You continued the calculated movements and felt your orgasm approaching. You just needed a little more. One more push to get you there. One curl of your finger turned to two, then to three, then the pleasure turned into frustration. “Fuuuuuuck.” You groaned as you  pulled your fingers from your body and layed on the mattress in a heap of sweat and frustration. You felt yourself slowly drift back into the unconscious void even as you worked to steady your breaths.  
---
“She sucked my fingers. Wanted me to fuck her. With my fingers. Uh she begged me to. And she was down to her knickers” Gaz confessed as he dropped his eyes to his combat boots, too unsure to look at his team. 
“Did you lad?” Price probed. 
“No, I couldn't do it. I really thought about it and I- I don't know. She definitely has a fever though.”
“Hm.” Was all that left Price's mouth. 
“We're gonna have to check up on her. Make sure her heart isn't working too hard and see how to keep her satiated. For her sake.” Simon stated matter of factly. 
“Does it say it has to be expelled through “sexual intercourse” or can she just, ya know, uh.. “Get there”, and work it out her system.” Soap questioned, looking toward Price and seeking the answers he normally has. 
“Johnny. It says coitus.” Simon replied. 
“No one’s gonna fuck her like this. It’s not right.” Gaz stated.
“What if we have to?” Soap doubted.
“Maybe we should see if an orgasm is the solution. If that doesn't work then last resort, someone will do what needs to be done.” Price said with a sense of finality. 
---
You felt the press of two fingers at your carotid artery and shivered at the warmth they offered. You fluttered your eyes open and nearly jumped out of your skin when they met dark brown ones behind a human skull mask. You’d seen Simon before and regularly worked with him but you'd never woken to him standing over you like the grim reaper.  
“Jesus, Simon.” 
“‘Just checking your heart rate.” He confirmed. Simon almost always has his gloves on. To feel his fingers at your neck had you craving more of his touch. You grabbed his hand that was at your neck and splayed it across your jugular. You looked up at him with full, pleading eyes and felt him squeeze a bit. A light moan left your lips as you begged him to squeeze harder. The groan that left his mouth would surely implant itself in the depths of your mind for years to come. The sound coming from him went straight to your core and you felt yourself clenching your thighs. 
“Simon, please.”
“Fuckin’ hell. Don’t look at me like that. Not while you've got your knickers round your ankles.”
“Please. Si. I need you. I’m so fucking horny. I can feel everything Simon. Please just help me feel good. I promise I’ll be good. You can use me however you want. However you need to. Please.”
“Don't say that y/n.” He turned his gaze away from your face. 
“I mean it. Please help me.”
“Just my fingers darling.” 
“Yes. Yes, thank you so much.” You nodded your head eagerly and bit down on your lip. If your fingers weren't working to get you there, maybe his would. You parted your legs for him and he hung his head and rolled his shoulders while he let out a deep “Fuck”. His grip on your neck tightened and you felt your head go light. “Oh fuck yes.” His other hand made its way between your plush legs and ran between your folds. Simon’s eyes were locked onto your pussy and he was in awe of how wet you were. He knew what the toxins effects on you were but to see them in person had him stiff as a board in his pants.  Fuck this was so wrong of him. He knew he wanted to help you but part of him was living out his sick and twisted fantasies. To have you, a stunning woman, dripping wet and begging for him to fuck you, he’d be insane to not feel at least a bit aroused. He dragged a finger around your clit and almost purred at the whine that left your lips. He continued to make slow and tedious circles around your clit. 
“Simon, please I need more. Can you - mmm fuck- can you fuck me?” How could he deny you when you’ve asked him so nicely. 
“Only with my fingers, darling.” He slipped in two fingers and groaned at how tight you were. Your back arched so deeply and he wondered to himself what it would be like to be behind you when you arched like that. Simon began to work his fingers inside of you. He started with slow but deep pumping motions and moved onto scissoring his fingers inside of you searching for that special spot that he knows will make you tick. Your breath hitched in your throat and you let out a long high pitched squeal. 
“Is that it, darling? Right there? Hm?” He beamed with a sense of condescension that made your pussy tighten on his fingers. 
“Oh fuck Simon. Please, please let me cum.” His fingers were hitting all of the right parts of you and you felt your orgasm nearing. 
“Of course you can come, darling. Fucking soak my fingers. I know you need it. Come on, darling.”
You slid your hand down to your clit and rubbed it in furious circles. His grip tightened on your neck and you felt fuzzy everywhere. “Cum all over my fingers. Make a mess, why don't you.” And at that final comment from Simon, you felt the band within you snap as you had one of the most intense orgasms of your life. Your toes curled and your back was nearly curved into a C shape. Your pussy clenched and unclenched as Simon continued his assault. You felt your ears ringing from the intensity of the orgasm and felt like you lost hearing for a little moment. As you panted and tried to recover from your climax, Simon removed his drenched fingers from you, lifted his mask to just below his nose, and brought his hand up to his mouth. He locked eyes with you and you watched him in amazement as he cleaned you from his fingers. Your eyes flutter at how intense the sight was. His strong jaw, scarred but pink lips, and traces of stubble left you wanting more. He moved the hand that was on your neck back to your pulse point to check your heart rate.
“It’s slowed a bit. Get some rest," and with that he left the room and you felt yourself slip from consciousness.
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musaslullaby · 2 days
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Is the princess really getting married?
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Charles leclerc x fem reader
Summary: The Princess of Monaco is getting married, but the fans don't know who the lucky one is.
Face: people on Pinterest, and the driver.
Warning: fluff, Instagram AU.
A/N: There will be a second part.
Masterlist
¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸♪·¯·♫¸¸¸¸♬·¯·♩¸¸/
Ynofficial
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Description: Me every time they tell me I should go get ready.
Liked by user56, lewishaamilton, and other 948.983.
user43: Yn doesn’t want to be a princess anymore.
user32: Let’s switch places, girl. ❤️ Like to author
yourbrother: Yn, you shouldn’t post these things.
Ynofficial: Don’t be so strict.
yourbrother: I’m just trying to keep you on the right track.
Ynofficial: How boring.
user3: The best princess I’ve ever seen.
user12: This is too funny.
user34: POV: How to pretend not to be a princess.
❤️ Like to author
Ynofficial: POV: It’s not a POV.
user34: YNNNN!!!!
Ynofficial: Yes, that’s my name.
yourbrother: What am I going to do with you? ❤️ Like to author
user78: What do you have to do today?
Ynofficial: Another one of those shoots for something, honestly, I don’t even know.
user23: Wait, you’re doing a photoshoot and you don’t even know what for?
Ynofficial: Exactly.
Ynofficial
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Description: At least I have him to keep me company.
Liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, and other 8.483.939.
user45: How cuteeee.
user67: The luckiest little dog in the world.
user221: Yn doesn’t need a boyfriend; she has her dog.
❤️ Like to author
Ynofficial: I totally agree.
yourbrother: He’s the only one who deserves to live in the palace.
Ynofficial: I know you love my son more than me, thanks.
yourbrother: I never said that.
Ynofficial: So, you love me?
yourbrother: You trapped me. ❤️ Like to author
user21: The last photo is worthy of a queen.
user34: Maybe you meant goddess?
user56: Guys, doesn’t that dog look like Leclerc’s dog?
user7: Who’s Leclerc?
f1lover: How can you not know? He’s a god on earth.
user90: He’s an F1 driver who has a dog of the same breed named Leo.
user50: Now that I think about it, they adopted them around the same time.
user54: Coincidence?
Ynofficial
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Description: Okay, okay, I have to admit I had fun this time.
Liked by user43, checoperez, and other 98,453.
yourbrother: I told you.
Ynofficial: You usually tell a lot of lies.
user45: I love the relationship between Yn and her brother.
❤️ Like to author
user6: The heir to the Monaco throne.
user7: He’s very kind, I met him.
Ynofficial: Try living with him, then we’ll see.
user21: Were the jewels real?
Ynofficial: Yes, and they’re really heavy too.
user6: I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes.
Ynofficial: The clothes are super uncomfortable tooooo.
user67: But they’re beautiful.
user0: They look amazing on her.
Ynofficial: I can’t wait to take them off.
Ynofficial
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Description: A date before saying goodbye.
Liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and other 4.784.839.
user21: Who are you with, girl?
Ynofficial: With a human being.
user6: The luckiest human in the world. ❤️ Like to author
user5: YN OF MONACO WHAT ARE YOU DOING??
user34: Thank you, Yn.
user1: Whoever it is should thank their lucky stars every day to be with someone like Yn.
❤️ Like to author
user45: So, is she engaged??
user41: Yn, don’t play these tricks on us.
user67: It’s not funny.
user3: I love the dress.
Ynofficial: I don’t, they forced me to wear it.
user56: No way we could afford it.
user32: I wish I were a princess.
Ynofficial: Wish granted, please come take my place.
user6: Guys, isn’t the Monaco GP today?
user5: Oh God, you’re right.
user43: Do you think she’s going to the GP?
user8: I didn’t know she was into F1.
user09: Neither did I.
user5: Yn is the black sheep of the family.
❤️ Like to author
Ynofficial: You’re absolutely right.
user56: That description doesn’t sound like you.
❤️ Like to author
Ynofficial: Sorry, too poetic.
yourbrother: Mom wants to talk to you.
user6: Trouble’s coming.
Ynofficial: Time to run off to Mexico. Checo, will you host me?
checoperez: Whenever you want. ❤️ Like to author
user32: Wait, they know each other???
user9: Did I miss something?
user78: What does this dialogue even mean?
user76: YN?
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Ynofficial
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Description: Guess who’s not supposed to be wandering around the paddock?
Liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and other 877.473.738.
gp1: YN OF MONACO.
vroom: Wait, they allowed her to go to the GP??
race: I think at least someone from the royal family always has to be there?
user43: YN, DID YOU MEET CHARLES?
Ynofficial: 🤫🤫.
16_55: IT’S A YESSS.
user2: MY TWO FAVORITE PEOPLE MEETING. ❤️ Like to author
yourbrother: Where did you go? Mom’s going to be very angry.
Ynofficial: Cover for me.
yourbrother: Wait, what?
Ynofficial: Thanks, love you.
yourbrother: No, Yn, come back here, we agreed to stay low-key.
Ynofficial: No one will see me.
yourbrother: That includes me too, right?
Ynofficial: Maybe yes, maybe no.
63_: I love this woman.
user42: Is the car comfortable?
Ynofficial: My princess ass didn’t appreciate it.
user21_: That’s why you’re my favorite princess.
Ynofficial: I don’t think you know any others.
danielricciardo: Princess Yn is a fan of mine.
Ynofficial: You’re my childhood.
danielricciardo: I’m not that old.
Ynofficial: Don’t worry, Daniel, it’s hard to accept.
landonorris: Wait, Daniel met her and I didn’t?
maxverstappen1: He’s just privileged.
Ynofficial: I’m coming to you, don’t fight.
user98: Everyone wants Yn. ❤️ Like to author
81_4: She’s anything but a princess.
f1lover: Please marry me.
Ynofficial: Sorry, I’m a bit busy.
Ynofficial
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Description: As a good princess, I have to congratulate Charles Leclerc for winning his home race, Monaco. Congratulations, Predestined One.
Liked by charles_leclerc, f1, and other 42.457.473
f1lover: How sweet, Yn.
ferrarifan: After this post, I’m over the moon.
race_: The Monaco curse is broken.
❤️ Like to author
Ynofficial: Yes, but now Charles has to endure at least a month of bad luck.
charles_leclerc: Thank you, Yn. ❤️ Like to author
charles_leclerc: I thank you, Your Highness, for wasting two minutes to make the post. ❤️ Like to author
Ynofficial: Consider yourself lucky.
landonorris: Will the next victory post be dedicated to me?
georgerussell63: Keep dreaming, mate. ❤️ Like to author
oscarpiastri: Charles has reached the pinnacle of his career after this post.
carlossainz55: I can hear him laughing and blushing from here. ❤️ Like to author
maxverstappen1: Princess, may I humbly request your attention? ❤️ Like to author
Ynofficial: I always have my full attention on you, Max Emilian Verstappen.
charles_leclerc: No, today is my day, step aside. ❤️ Like to author
user56: Is Charles jealous??
user45: Max asking for Yn’s attention?
Ynofficial
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Description: I can officially say I’m off-limits.
Liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and other 98,457.633.
yourbrother: I’m so happy for you, little sister.
❤️ Like to author
landonorris: Can I be the best man?
Ynofficial: No, you might show up to the wedding already drunk.
maxverstappen1: You said yesss! ❤️ Like to author
Ynofficial: I said yesss!
georgerussell63: Congratulations, guys.
❤️ Like to author
lewishamilton: Congrats, but honestly, I expected it.
❤️ Like to author
oscarpiastri: He has the eyes of love.
❤️ Like to author
user44: No, okay, we need to figure out who it is.
f1lover: It’ll be the most beautiful wedding ever.
ynlove: Our little girl is growing up.
charleslec_: I hope it’s Charles.
race: It’s definitely a driver.
vroom: I don’t know; it could also be a prince or noble.
user32: I doubt it, knowing Yn.
ynqueen: Love is blind.
user3: Whoever it is, I’m so happy for you.
user77: I’m going to drop a bomb: I think it’s Max.
maxie_: Oh God, yes, can you imagine??
1_11: The best couple ever.
Ynofficial: I like your theories.
user66: Yn, help us, please.
cl16: Has anyone noticed Charles didn’t even comment?
55_: Strange.
Ynofficial
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Description: Goodbye, Monaco.
Liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, and other 757.648.
yourbrother: I can’t believe mom let you go.
carlossainz55: Knowing Yn, she would’ve gone anyway. ❤️ Like to author
Ynofficial: My friends know me too well.
user43: Wait, how long have they known each other???
formula1_: More importantly, since when does Yn love F1?
f1lover: It’s a new thing, actually.
race: Yn, princess of the people.
Ynofficial: Always at your service.
landonorris: Now she’s getting a big head.
charles_leclerc: As soon as they offered you to skip your duties, you accepted right away.
Ynofficial: You shouldn’t talk to a princess like that.
charles_leclerc: And you shouldn’t talk to a prince like that.
f1love: WAIT, WHAT DID CHARLES MEAN???
charlesmylife: Guys, Yn deleted it.
charelsofmonaco: No, I don’t understand.
16cl: I arrived too late 😭😭😭.
Flove1: Finally, we have proof that this man exists.
user65: I was convinced it was a joke.
user90: Secret agents of the world, unite, we need to find out who Yn’s boyfriend is.
user67: YN, WE HAVE TOO MANY QUESTIONS.
Ynofficial: And I have zero answers.
user56: Where are you running to, girl?
Ynofficial: Away from nobility.
Ynofficial
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Description: I had to try the ice cream in Italy.
Liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and other 74.673.883.
yourbrother: Bring me some.
Ynofficial: No.
charles_leclerc: I’ll bring it to you.
Ynofficial: Since when are you two so chummy?
f1lover: No okay, we missed something.
race: Something important.
Formula1: Is that Leo or Yn’s dog?
f_1: The numbers don’t add up.
user78: I can’t tell them apart.
user1: They look the same.
landonorris: Good job, Yn, distract him so I can win in Monza.
carlossainz55: NO, YN, BRING CHARLES HERE NOW.
Ynofficial: Now I don’t know what to do anymore.
user56: Yn is a princess even outside of Monaco.
user09: How cute is the guy tying her shoes?
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813 notes · View notes
novelbear · 21 hours
Text
"maybe you'll feel it, too" -best friends to lovers prompts
a prompt list by @novelbear ᵔᴥᵔ
lingering hugs and stares
"you know i'm always going to be there for you, right? always."
compliments that are borderline (sometimes just blatant) flirting but they cover it up as just being a really supportive friend
^ "you sure this looks fine?" "trust me, you look fine as hell..."
being overly protective of the other (especially when it comes to relationships)
showing displays of affection that might seem questionable to others around them (ex. kissing each other on the cheek/ hands)
hand placement when hugging or guiding them also being a little more on the questionable side
"i'm always thinking about you."
being unable to tear their eyes off of them, especially when watching them excel at something they're best at
sharing clothes
"why are you looking at me like that?"
unconsciously including them in conversation when they're not even around
"there's no one else that makes me laugh the way you do."
noticing them blushing coincidentally after making a comment. but they can't be blushing because of what they said. they wouldn't. would they? no, of course not...right?
holding hands and neither of them knowing when (or wanting to) let go
when that realization hits that they really wouldn't rather spend their time with anyone else the way they do with their "best friend"
rambling on and on and on and wait are they looking at my eyes or my lips?
"if we were dating i'd take you to all the best places.." "what's stopping you?" "excuse me."
"can i kiss you?" "you have no idea how long i've waited to hear you ask that."
the relief that washes over both of them when the feelings are finally out there
"why didn't you tell me?" "the same reason you didn't tell me. i didn't want to lose you."
646 notes · View notes
Text
I'd Answer
You've been gone. Azriel's been broken. Something has to change, and Azriel would do anything.
Part 2 of If You Cared to Ask
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“This is for you,” Mor huffed, plopping down a small bouquet of roses onto the growing garden that seemed to have sprouted on the table. “What is that, number twelve?” 
“I don’t know, I don’t count them,” you brushed off, your gaze falling on the gifts for a fleeting moment.
Mor hummed. “Are they doing anything for you?” 
“Not particularly.” 
Your friend shuffled into the small sitting room and gracefully landed in the chair beside yours, her eyes piercing a hole in the side of your head when you refused to look up. She sighed, and then sighed again, making a show of slotting her chin in her palm and looking forlorn. 
The third sigh was your breaking point. 
You placed your book on the table and turned to Mor with your brows raised. “Yes?” 
“Oh, nothing,” she airily replied. “I was just wondering when you were going to give this up. You don’t have to forgive the guy, but at least put me out of my misery and let me tell him where you’re staying. I’m basically a delivery service at this point. He says sorry again, by the way.” 
“Oh, well in that case—” 
“More than just sorry, but I can’t remember everything he said. It was all rambly and his face was all gaunt.” Mor pressed her fingers up to cover her eyes. “I’m not even sure if he’s eating. Rhys had to stop sending him out because he almost fell out of the sky.”
“Is this supposed to make me feel bad?”
You hoped your ruse was believable because hearing that Azriel was doing so poorly did make you feel bad. Your heart lept up to your throat at the prospect of your mate falling from the sky from exhaustion. But he had had so many opportunities to make this right and you weren’t about to give up your anger so easily. 
Mor offered a sad expression that looked authentic this time. “Y/n, he loves you. He’s an idiot and the whole lot of them are mindless fools, but Azriel has never loved anything the way he loves you.” 
“Yeah, I’m sure,” you snorted. “And he shows that love by forgetting me and then arguing when I’m clearly upset over it?” 
“I know. He told me how much of an ass he’s been. But, I promise you, I’ve known Azriel for a long time. He was just—just handling everything with Rhys poorly. He felt so so guilty when Rhys got trapped. You know that.” 
You bit the inside of your cheek and avoided Mor’s gaze. “I know.” 
The lack of vitriol in your tone had Mor perking up. “And you remember how hard he tried to get him back—how broken he was when Rhys sent out his last message. Az feels responsible for everything when it comes to his family.”
You didn’t need the reminder. The tortured way he carried himself over the past 50 years was evidence enough of the truth behind Mor’s words. And you had been there to soothe that pain, to help run the court that Rhys left behind. 
When silence persisted, Mor craned her neck to catch your gaze. “I’m not saying what he did was right, but you know he’s been in overdrive since Rhys returned. He goes off on those missions when Rhys calls, but… y/n, he only leaves without notice when his informants…” 
Mor trailed off. 
Your gaze finally flickered up. “When?” 
Mor bit her lip and winced. “He told me not to tell you this part. He said he didn’t want you to think he was making excuses.” 
“Tell me anyways.” 
“Fine. But you can’t rat me out.” Mor sighed and leaned back in the chair, still facing you. “He does go on every mission Rhys proposes, and that’s… stupid, but he tells you about those ones, I think. When he just up and leaves, it’s because—y/n, it’s because they're about you. You know there’s a slew of people that want you dead for your involvement up in Illyria. He has a team of informants with the sole purpose of listening for you name.
“He goes on Rhys’s missions because he doesn’t want his family separated again, but sometimes, it’s because he just wants to protect his mate.” 
A stone dropped past your ribs and into your stomach. “But, he never told me—” 
“You know these overgrown bats think that suffering in silence is an honorable thing to do,” Mor rolled her eyes. “They overwork themselves fighting the good fight or whatever and seem to forget that the rest of the world is still out there, facing the consequences of their actions. And… I think he just wanted you to feel safe. I think he’s been scared.” 
Something sickly climbed its way up your consciousness. You looked down at your hands as they rested in your lap. 
You hadn’t seen Azriel in six days, and each day had more anger coursing through you, building up a wall that you thought impenetrable. Because you were so angry; Azriel had disappointed you time and time again, left you feeling abandoned and alone, and then he got defensive about it as if you were the one at fault. 
Part of you always knew it was a defense of some sort, but you had thought it a defense of something nefarious. You had tossed around the idea of infidelity a few times, and that rivaled the thought of him simply falling out of love with you. 
But it was this. 
It was him hiding how hard he’d been trying to protect you—however idiotic his tactics may have been. 
“You can tell him where I am,” you murmured clenching your fingers into your palm. “And leave the door unlocked, I guess.” 
Mor had left the small apartment on the outskirts of Velaris before you finished your sentence. 
It took approximately 7 minutes for a tentative knock to sound at your door. 
Mor had left it unlocked, but there was still a knock. 
You took a glance at the pile of flowers on the table before heading to the front door. The old floorboards creaked under your feet, a reminder of the rundown apartment you had sought out after you left. It was a frantic process, searching for a place to stay; you hadn’t cared much for luxury or comfort.  
Opening the door was jarring. Azriel’s wings were half-raised as if he’d just flown down and then forgot how to control them. His face was pallid with dark smudges beneath his eyes. His hair was windswept, expected from the flight, but it looked tugged at and disheveled beyond that. 
“Hi.” 
Maybe you’d been looking him over too long because Azriel’s voice cracked at the single word. He sounded unsure, verging on afraid, and all you had done was pass over his figure with your eyes. 
You tightened your grip on the door handle. “Um, hi.” Your tone was harsher than you meant it to be. 
Azriel flinched. “I’m sorry, Mor said…” 
“No, I—Come in.” 
You stepped back and pushed the door open to accommodate his hesitant steps into your rental. Azriel stood in the middle of the space and wrung his hands as you shuffled behind him, a slight tremor showing in his fingers. You leaned back against the door with your own hands pressed at the small of your back. You watched Azriel’s lingering gaze trail over the flowers in the corner of the room. 
“You didn’t like them?” he meekly asked. 
Something inside of you hurt. 
“They were okay,” you answered. “But I didn’t want flowers.” 
Azriel nodded and his lashes fluttered shut. His hands twitched. 
“I’m sorry—for the flowers, I mean. They were a pathetic reason to send Mor to you. You wanted to be left alone.” 
“I did not want to be left alone, Azriel.” You kicked away from the door, bringing your arms across your chest for some form of protection. “I wanted you. I wanted you to care about me.”
“I do,” Azriel stressed. He took a step forward and the wood beneath his boot creaked. “I do, y/n.  I care about you more than anything—I love you.” 
“Then why couldn’t you show me? Why did it take me leaving, me getting hurt, for you to finally listen to me and see how much I’ve needed you?” 
Your chest was heaving, each word from your lips a choked gasp. Azriel took all of it and absorbed your full meaning, seeming to wince at every insinuation that he didn’t love you. His jaw quivered and he opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. 
“Why did you stop talking to me?” you asked, a broken rendition of your anger. “Why—Mor told me… She told me things. Things that make sense. But why does it feel like I don’t matter to you?” 
“My love,” Azriel stressed. Yearned. He rushed forward, abandoning all reservations and gathering you into his arms as tears began making headway down your cheeks. “I’m so sorry, baby. I can’t—I’m so so sorry.” His words were almost lost against your temple as he held you, each apology a whisper of a kiss against your skin. 
“You weren’t there and Devlon—he—” 
“I know, angel, I know and I’m so sorry. Had I known… Had I listened.” He pulled you back from his chest, crouching down to meet your eye and wiping tears from your cheeks. “All I’ve ever wanted to do was keep you safe. I thought I was doing that. I don’t know what Mor told you—” 
“She told me everything. She told me you’ve been following leads about me and taking on too much. She told me you’re scared.” 
Azriel breathed and it sounded anguished. “I am terrified. We lost Rhysand and now you are in the throes of a society that almost killed me. I—I wake up every morning and everything is good and I am so afraid to lose that. I thought I was protecting you, protecting us. But I almost lost you and—” 
You let out a breathy cry. “You could never lose me, Azriel.” 
He pressed his forehead to yours, the wetness of his cheeks now apparent. Azriel’s hands were firm on either side of your head and his fingers laced up into your hair. 
Gods, you missed him. 
You missed him and everything hurt. 
“I’ll do better. I’ll be better. Just please—please, don’t leave again. Please come home. Let me fix this.”
The want was overwhelming. It would be so easy to say yes, but it would be just as easy for nothing to change. 
“You can’t do that again, Azriel,” you stressed, shaking your head and causing your mate to draw back. Only a breath was left between you. “You have to tell me what’s going on. You can’t—you can’t leave me in the dark. You can’t make me feel like that.”
Azriel’s head shook in desperation. “I won’t. I promise I won’t.” 
“I need to know I can rely on you—trust you.” 
“You can, angel.” 
“I need to know that you love me.” 
A pained sound escaped Azriel’s throat. He licked his lips and reaffirmed his hold on your face, locking his eyes with yours in a beseeching gaze. 
“I love you more than life itself, angel. I couldn’t breathe when you were gone. I can’t believe I made you think that I don’t. You are my life. Let me show you. Please, let me show you.”
You tracked your eyes between both of his. “Okay, Azriel.” 
“I’m going to keep you safe.”
“I am safe.” 
“I love you.” 
"I know you do, Az. I know."
933 notes · View notes
thewidowsledger · 2 days
Text
Toothbrush
© thewidowsledger 2024 - DO NOT REPUBLISH AND PLAGIARISE
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Pairings: Nerd!Natasha Romanoff x MILF!Reader
Word count: 5.2k
Tags | Warnings: +18, AMAB!Natasha, beefy and super nerdy Natasha, MILF!reader, reader is 39 and Natasha is 22, dating apps, Tony being a good and a bad friend at the same time, lying about age, reader has sons, dirty talk, switch r & Nat but more like a top!Natasha, breeding kink, mommy kink, breast sucking, riding, teasing, rough sex, creampie, squirting, overstimulation, fingering (r receiving), ghosting (kinda), unintentionally stealing clothes👀 (?)
Author’s Note: I know I said I am going to post this tonight but my daimonion is telling me to post this right now, lol. This fic is inspired from this request, but I changed it like a lot lot I guess...I hope it's fine for whoever requested it🥹 the title is inspired by DNCE's song: Toothbrush I am currently banging with this song for weeks now.
Navigation | Masterlist
“F-fuck please be bad Mommy.” Natasha whined.
“No mommy wants to be bad to their baby…”
“What do you want Tony?” Natasha chuckled as she saw her best friend on her apartment door at 7 o’clock early in the morning, standing there holding a pizza box. “Really? Pizza? Early this morning?”
Tony rolled his eyes and pushed his way inside, shutting the door behind him. “Well, thank you for the warm welcome,” he teased. “Before I go to my asshole of a father’s place, I want to do one thing. Something purposeful for you, my friend.”
Nat raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “And what would that be?” she asked, as she led him to the living room of her small apartment.
“Let me see your phone,” he said, taking it out of her hands.
“Hey, wait!” the redhead protested, but Tony was already fiddling with it. “What are you doing?!”
“Setting up an account on a dating app,” he replied, typing away.
“Wow. So this is your grand purpose? Setting me up on a dating app? I’m touched.” She said sarcastically. She watched him, a box of pizza on his left hand and her phone on the other, seriously typing whatever it is that is asked to fulfill the account—he is really serious about setting her up on a dating site.
“You gotta be kidding Tony…”
“Nope. Enough robotics Romanoff before you turn into one.”
Nat’s eyes widened as she suddenly realized that she told Tony her plans. And a wave of regret washed over her. She had meticulously scheduled out her entire summer break even though it hasn't started yet, she intended to spend time working on her robotics project every single day of the summer break. But now, with Tony in the picture with her phone in his hands, she could already imagine the chaos that was going to ensue.
The dating preference section came up and Tony immediately, with no hesitations, clicked women. It had been common knowledge among their friends that Nat had a strong liking for girls. He chuckled to himself, thinking about the kind of women the app would likely recommend for her.
“Let’s make things spicy,” he said under his breath as he set the age range for Natasha’s profile.
With a few taps, he set the age preference to 30-50 years old. “You’ll thank me for this, Nat,” he said with a sly grin on his face.
Every time he and Nat would pass some women on the street, Tony would stealthily observe Nat’s reactions. Whether it was a woman walking past them with her kids or a lady jogging in tight-fitting leggings who he was sure was around 35 to 40, the red head is drooling already. Tony had taken note of Natasha's undeniable interest in women—women who are old enough to be her mother.
The last step came, he only needed to pick a photo of Natasha and it's all done and set up, ready to swipe left and right. So he went through her gallery to find photos of her, but her gallery is just full of screenshots about freaking science.
As Tony sifted through Natasha's gallery, his mood grew more impatient and bored.
“Seriously Nat, you’ve got like a million screenshots of scientific articles and memes about space, and when you do actually take a photo, it’s of some historical artifact in a museum. This is like a grandma’s photo album…” He grumbled, scrolling further.
“Okay, that’s enough.” The redhead stood from the sofa but Tony backed away not even looking at her, too busy to smile like an idiot with whatever he saw on her phone.
“Damn, Nat,” he muttered under his breath, a smirk forming on his face. “I had no idea you were hiding this much muscle under those baggy clothes.” He came across a couple of mirror shots that Natasha had taken in the gym. In these photos, she was wearing a tight-fitting black tank top and some baggy shorts, showing off her muscular arms and strong physique.
Tony chuckled, his eyes still glued to the photos of Natasha’s flexing arms. “Yeah, definitely milfs will absolutely love these shots.”
Nat couldn't help but blush, both at the compliment and at the mention of milfs. “You really think so?” she asked, a hint of shyness in her voice.
“Oh yeah, they would swipe right in a heartbeat,” he said, chuckling. “These are juicy…”
“Okay, you sounded perverted. Gimme that…” Natasha was finally able to get her phone back and Tony raised his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I was just trying to get some good pictures of you in there. You gotta give the ladies something to look at, you know?”
Tony watched as Natasha went through the app, “You just need to click confirm, and it’s all set up…but it’s still your choice. And…I gotta go, mom’s gonna call me.”
Natasha paused and looked at Tony with relief and confusion. She was grateful for the break in the conversation, but she also didn’t want him to leave just yet. “Okay...go ahead. Can’t keep mommy waiting.” She said jokingly.
“Okay now that sounded perverted coming from you, Romanoff.” Tony pointed a finger at her while walking backwards towards the redhead’s apartment door.
“I’m just kidding,” Natasha let out some giggles as she walked Tony off her apartment, “Don’t kill your father, Tony.”
“I’ll try not to, I can’t believe mom wanted me to spend half of my summer with him. I love her so much that I’ll do anything she asks of me even though it’s spending some time with the man who hurt her.”
“You’ll be fine, just don’t get your hand bloody like last time.”
Tony chuckled and saluted her back, then turned to leave. “I make no promises, Romanoff.” He sighed, Natasha just gently patted Tony’s shoulder and when she was about to close her door, her best friend's foot stopped it from closing.
“Goodluck with the milf hunting.”
For the next few days, Nat found herself thinking about the dating app and Tony’s playful attempt to set her up. She would secretly open the app every now and then but couldn't bring herself to swipe in any direction. She thinks all these women are deserving to be dated, but she could only pick one of course.
Finally, one night, Natasha couldn't resist the temptation any longer. She sat on her couch to browse through the potential matches. She’d take her frustration out on her pillow, mumbling to herself about how ridiculous this all was. But she continued, her heart raced as she began swiping through the profiles. Her cheeks flushed with a hint of embarrassment as she came across various women who fit her preference—older, attractive milf, thanks to her best friend who knew exactly what her type is.
As she read the bios, she couldn’t help but be intrigued by some of their descriptions. They were confident, successful, and had a certain allure about them that made her even more flustered.
She should've swiped right to have more chances of winning like what Tony advised her, but Natasha continued swiping left through profiles. Yes, she noticed that the women she saw were undeniably beautiful, however, she wanted to see something different, that's why she started swiping left. It wasn't because she found them unattractive, but rather because they didn't quite match the image she had in mind.
She was so intimidated, all these women looks so powerful—like how women should be. So far she'd seen woman who's a pilot, CEO, business owners and many jobs that she for sure puts a lot of zeros on their bank accounts. Not that she didn't want that and she's definitely not opposed to the idea of being a sugar baby, but...she wanted someone who's simple, domestic yet can lead her.
Each profile she scrolled through brought a mix of excitement and anxiety, yet curiosity pushed her to keep searching for that one woman who would make her heart skip a beat.
“Y/N, 39 years old, mother of two, loves gardening, sketching…” she read to herself, trying not to blush as she looked at your photo. Most women she had seen in this app either had a picture with the Eiffel tower or a selfie inside the high premium car—no offense, she loved everything old women do but you, you had a picture of yourself in a beautiful garden she thought was in your place, surrounded by lush greenery. Your genuine smile and a sparkle in her eyes stood out to Natasha.
“Just 4 hours drive away from here…”
Natasha's heart raced as she nervously swiped right on your profile, her hand trembling a little. The moment she did it, she immediately slammed her phone shut and threw herself onto her bed, her heart pounding in her chest.
The thought of you potentially seeing her profile and possibly matching with her made her stomach flutter. The redhead buried her face into her pillow, unable to wipe the redness of her face.
She stood and immediately put on her glasses to distract herself from the constant nervous feeling of seeing a notification from the app, Natasha threw herself into various activities to keep her mind occupied. She deep cleaned her apartment, organized her cluttered drawers, and even got started on her robotics project.
Days passed, but there still wasn't any notification from the dating app. And Natasha actually forgot about it, the robotics project she's working on consuming and occupying every time she had for the day.
Natasha was deep in thought, working on her project, when the sudden notification sound from her phone jolted her from her focus. Startled, she picked up her phone, expecting it to be an email from the agency she applied for an internship or her sister asking for some 5$ on cash app.
However, when she looked at the screen, her heart almost jumped out of her ribs when she saw the dating app icon. She shakingly and immediately opened it.
You: Hi dear
Natasha found herself biting her lower lip, wrestling with her thoughts. She’d faced down debaters, cracked numerous codes, and aced countless exams and quizzes. But responding to a simple “hi” from an older woman had her completely flustered. It was a ridiculous feeling, but she couldn't deny the butterflies in her stomach at the thought of conversing with you.
She typed and deleted various responses, unsure of what to say, until finally, she decided on something simple yet respectful at least.
Natasha: Good evening, how are you?
You: I’m good, just finished cooking some dinner. You?
Natasha: I haven't eaten anything yet, I was working for a project.
You: That's not good for your health and for those massive muscles of yours.
Natasha felt her cheeks grow warm as she read your reply about her muscles. Tony was indeed right when he said milfs will definitely like those. She hadn't expected you to notice that detail, but reading it brought a smile to her face.
Natasha: Massive muscles? I think you're exaggerating a bit.
She typed, trying to downplay your compliment, yet secretly loving the attention.
You: Exaggerating? Not one bit, love. Your biceps are godly💪🔥
You responded, clearly amused by her attempt to deny your compliment.
Natasha felt her heart rate increase at your playful banter and the cute emojis you used. She couldn't help but feel the pain of her cheeks from smiling with your attention and the nicknames you’re calling her.
Nat: Thanks :)))
You: So…where exactly do you live in Brooklyn?
“Y-you should... probably stop that…” she whispers, her voice barely audible. “I-I'm not... I'm not good at…”
You slowly start to grind your hips against Natasha, feeling her body tense up beneath you. Her eyes dilate, and she licks her lips nervously.
Despite her protests, you continue to grind against her, feeling her hips instinctively buck up to meet yours. Natasha’s face turns a deep shade of red, and she lets out a soft whimper as she feels herself getting hard beneath you. “P-please... stop…”
And you did, you pause, lifting your hips away from her but you were still straddling her—kneeling straightly where your tits were right in front of her. Natasha whines softly at the loss of the friction, her hips bucking forward as if seeking more. You smirk mischievously, leaning in close to her ear. “I’m stopping because my baby told me to. Mommy has to listen to what her baby says, mommy doesn’t wanna be bad.”
“F-fuck please be bad Mommy.” Natasha whined.
“No mommy wants to be bad to their baby…”
Natasha lets out a frustrated whine again, her hips bucking forward again as she chases the friction she was just denied. “B-but... Mommy... it feels so good…you’re so good…” she whimpers, her eyes filled with need and puppy-dog sadness. “Please... just a little more…”
You slowly unbutton your top, revealing your bra. Natasha’s eyes flick down to your chest, watching intently as you unhook the bra and let it fall to the floor. Your bare breasts come into view, you guide Natasha’s face to your chest, gently cupping the back of her head. Her mouth parts slightly, and you can feel her warm breath on your tits. “Be good and suck Mommy’s tits,” you whisper, your voice laced with desire.
Natasha like a good baby she is, eagerly obeys, pressing soft kisses to your breasts. She kisses and licks, her touch gentle and reverent. You can hear her breathing grow heavier, feel her body tensing as she gets more aroused.
“That's it, baby. Be so good for Mommy…”
Her mouth finds your nipples, and she begins to suck and lick enthusiastically. She moans against your skin, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine. You can feel her hands gripping your waist tightly, her nails digging in slightly.
She continues to suck and lick your peaks, her cold glasses press against your warmth against the skin of your breasts, the temperature difference sending goosebumps across your flesh. You moan softly, your fingers tangling in her hair to keep her head in place as she paid attention to both of your tits.
After several minutes of shared attention on your tits, you guide Natasha's face back up to yours. You lean down and press a soft, passionate kiss to her lips finally settling back down to her lap feeling her hard once again.
Your hands gently stroking Natasha’s braided hair. You reach out and slowly move your hands towards her shorts, immediately feeling her hard cock through her boxers. Her eyes widened as he realized what you're doing. You then pulled out his cock spring free.
“Guess who’s being bad, hm?”
“Please…p-please mommy.”
You carefully shifted to position yourself on Natasha’s pointing cock. You guide her hands to your hips as you slowly lower yourself onto her. You can see the shock and pleasure on her face as you envelope her with your warm walls. “Y/N…” she stammers.
“That’s not my name baby.”
“Mommy, please!”
You bit your lower lip and began to move, taking her in and out of your warmth, Natasha’s head lolls back, her mouth opening in a silent 'O' of pleasure. Her hands on your hips tighten, her fingers digging in slightly. “It's...it's so tight, Mommy…you’re so…”
“Mhm, yeah?” You pant condescendingly, “Mommy’s what baby?”
“So good! So tight!” She cries.
“Oh yeah?”
You lean down, your breath hot against her ear. “That's because Mommy’s special hole is made just for my special baby. Only for you…” You punctuate each phrase with a slow thrust, taking her deeper.
Natasha’s breathing grows faster, her chest rising and falling rapidly against yours. Her hips buck upwards to meet your slow, languid movements. “Mommy...it...it feels…so good…” she moans softly, her voice barely a whisper. “I... I think I'm... I'm…”
“Are you good?” You asked, but the redhead didn't answer, her eyes shut closed behind her fogged glasses and was too focused on her pleasure and you loved it.
“Are you good, Natasha?” Now you calling her on her first name caught her attention.
“Y-yes…”
Your hands gripped her shoulders as you continued to ride her. “Then hold it, baby. If you're good you’re going to hold it until Mommy says you can come…” You increase the pace slightly, your own pleasure building as you feel him throb inside you. “That's it... just hold on…”
Her face scrunches up in concentration, her hands bruising your waist. “M-Mommy... it's...it's too much...I can't... I can't hold it…” she whines pitifully, his voice filled with need and desperation. “Please…”
“No, baby. You hold it. You can do it. Mommy knows you're strong…” You lean back further, grinding down onto her, your abdominal muscles flexing, “and you’re good, you can do it baby.”
Natasha lets out a high-pitched whine, her body trembling as she tries her best to obey. “I-I'm trying...Mommy...I'm trying to be good…” her body stiffens, her back arching slightly as she struggles to hold back.
You lean in close, your voice dropping to a low, soothing tone. “That's my baby... You're doing so well... just a little longer…”
Her face flushed with heat, her pupils dilating as she watched you with an agape mouth, riding her. Suddenly, her expression turns defiant.
“Fuck...maybe I wanna be bad,” she grips your hips tightly and begins to thrust up into you, ignoring your command. “Fuck, mommy I wanna be bad.”
You’re taken aback by her sudden defiance, your eyes widening in surprise. “Natasha... baby, no...oh! ” Your voice trails off as she continues to thrust into you deliciously.
“Shit baby, fuck you’re so strong!”
So now, it's you who's trying to hold back, but Natasha’s sudden burst of strength is overwhelming. She's too powerful, too determined. Her thrusts become brutal, pounding into you with relentless intensity. You're trapped, pinned on top of her dominant form, unable to escape the force of her desires.
“Natty…baby stop…”
“I can't stop, Mommy…” she moans, her body tensing as she reaches her limit. “I... I'm gonna...I'm gonna come...I'm gonna come inside you…” she throws her head towards your shoulder, her movements become erratic, her hips bucking wildly as she empties himself into you. You're left shocked, gasping, trapped on top of her as she finds her release.
“Turn around...get on your hands and knees…”
“Wha—”
Your shocked expression quickly turns into one of pleasure as Natasha’s dominant commands wash over you. You scramble to obey, turning around and dropping to your hands and knees. Natasha stands up, her hands gripping your hips as she holds you in place. “Good...my good girl... Now stay like that…”
As Natasha starts to move behind you, you feel a surge of emotion. Shock, awe, and a touch of humiliation mix together. You never imagined that she would take control like this, especially after she’d seem like the one to submit. Now, the roles are reversed, and you’re the one being taken.
Natasha's grip tightens around your hips as he begins to thrust into you from behind. The angle is different, deeper, and you can't help but let out a moan. “You like that, hm, Mommy?” she growls.
“You like being on the other end, don't you?” she thrusts deep, her hips slapping against your ass. “Answer me…” her hand reaches around, finding your most intimate spot. “Answer me or I'll stop…” she teases you mercilessly.
“Yesyesyes!”
Natasha suddenly pulls out, lifting you up and carrying you to the edge of the bed. She sits down, easily manhandling you over her lap. Your back rests against her chest as her hands held your thighs, keeping your legs wide open as she slides her cock back into your wetness.
She spreads your thighs wider, her knees pushing yours apart as she continues to pound into you. Her touch is unyielding, her rhythm punishing.
“Hold your thigh…” she took your hand and put it to keep your thigh up. “Hold...hold the other...hold both…” she commands, her breath hot against your neck. You comply, your hands gripping your thighs tightly as her strong hand comes down to string your throbbing clit.
“Oh God...Oh God, Natasha...Please... I can't...I can't take it anymore…” Your cries fill the room, your tits bouncing as she pounded inside you.
You threw your head back against Natasha's shoulder, exhausted from your struggles. She reaches up, her hand cupping your jaw and turning your head. Her mouth descends on yours, swallowing your moans. Her tongue slips past your lips, dueling with yours as she continues to pound into you.
You try to wiggle away from her relentless touch, but a strong hand wraps around one of your thighs, pulling you back. “Oh, no you don't…” Natasha's voice breathed in your ear, her hold was strong to keep your legs apart.
Her fingers never stop their relentless strumming on your clit and her cock pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
“Come for me, mama…” she whispers in your ear, her voice dark and commanding. “Squirt all over my cock…”
Her words send you over the edge. With a loud cry, you laid your head on her shoulder, your body convulsing as you came undone. You squirt all over her, your juices gushing out as she continues to thrust into you.
“That's it…” Natasha's own release hits her hard. With a final, brutal thrust, she buries herself deep inside you, her body shuddering as she comes. Her hot seed fills you up, spilling out around her still-pulsating cock. You can feel her hot cum mixing with your own fluids, the combined liquid slowly leaking out of you. You can't help but moan at the sensation, your body continuing to spasm when her cock bumped accidentally in your clit.
“You’re so good for me, mama.”
You wake up to the sound of birds chirping outside. Blinking your eyes open, you find yourself alone in Natasha’s bed. You stretch, wincing slightly at the soreness between your thighs. A quick glance around the room reveals no sign of the girl.
You sit up, rubbing your temples as a wave of guilt and self-disgust washes over you. Post nut clarity hits hard.
“How could I have been so stupid?” You chide yourself, your voice barely a whisper. “I drove four hours just to...to sleep with a stranger on a dating app.”
“Am I really that desperate for a good fuck?” you whisper harshly to yourself.
Panicked, you start searching for your clothes, but they're nowhere to be found. “Where are my clothes?” You mutter, your heart pounding in your chest. Your gaze falls on a large, plain shirt draped over a chair. You grab the shirt, smiling as you read what was printed on it
“The physics is theoretical but the fun is real.”
You quickly slip it on, the fabric swallowing you whole. It reaches down to your mid-thighs, the hem fluttering around your bare legs. You realize with a blush that you're not wearing anything else—just the shirt and your damp underwear.
You decide to take in the surroundings of the woman you slept with last night, it wouldn't be bad wouldn't it? The first thing you notice is how clean and organized Natasha's room is. The walls are adorned with intricate diagrams of solar systems, planets, and stars, each one meticulously labeled and colored. You spot a few custom-made lamps on the desk and shelves, their shapes resembling various celestial bodies that you thought she made herself.
The lamps cast a soft, warm light over the room, their glow mimicking that of distant stars. You see a bookshelf crammed with books on astronomy, physics, and electronics. A large whiteboard takes up one wall, covered in complex mathematical equations and diagrams.
Your gaze drifts downward, landing on a piece of paper on the floor. So you bend down to pick up the paper, smoothing it out on the table as you sit down. At first glance, it appears to be an application of some sort. Your eyes scan the page, taking in the details of information you see.
“Natasha...Alianovna Romanoff,” you smiled as her name tumbled out of your lips. “Beautiful name to moan to...”
“December 3,” you frowned, tilting your head slowly as you read the detail, “2002…” you felt your heart dropped to your stomach.
“22 years old?”
A sound of footsteps and a humming echo from outside the room made you alarmed. Panicked, you gripped the paper and rush towards the door, slipping out just as it creaks open. And there you saw Natasha who was cooking some breakfast.
She looks up as you exited her room, her eyes widening briefly as she takes in your appearance. Your hair was a mess and you're wearing her clothes—her favorite one, the oversized t-shirt clings to the curves of your breasts, revealing the outline of your hardened nipples. The hem barely reaches mid-thigh, revealing your bare legs—and your nude colored panties she herself took off last night.
You march towards her, barefoot, brandishing the application paper like a sword.
“You're 22?!”
“Wha—”
“Your bio says you're 28!”
“Wha—I-I didn't kno—”
“That's bullshit!”
“And I was like...God! I slept with someone who's the same age as my sons.” You mimic the same line you said as you recall the events of what happened weeks ago, sharing every detail with Thena, your best friend. She was in fact, the one who told you to try going on a dating app.
“At least you had a good fuck,” Your eyes widened with Thena's vulgar words but you hesitate for a moment before nodding, your face burning with embarrassment. Because, well, it's true...
“Yeah...it was…” You trail off, unable to meet her gaze.
“Good? Good?” Thena asks pulling the words out of you as she noticed you being hesitant.
“She was so gentle at first, almost shy...let me lead her but once she got going...whew!” You whistled softly, fanning yourself as you laughed.
“And you ghosted her…” You pause mid-laugh at your best friend's reply, you felt like she just slapped the reality across your face.
“I...” you raised your brows, palming your chest as you looked at her, “I didn't, okay, I just left. What would you expect me to do? She lied.” You defend, leaning down to your chair as you glance at your best friend who was eyeing you like she knows all your secrets. And she does though, but not this one.
“She's young, Thena,” you reason, “She'll move on. She'll meet someone new.” You dismiss the idea of Natasha being hurt by your not so sudden disappearance with a wave of your hand. “It's not like we had any emotional attachment or anything. Hell, maybe I am the third girl she had in her apartment that week. Who knows?” You chuckled humorlessly. You really wished you weren't.
“Hm, just fucking.”
“Exactly, just fucking,” you say, mirroring Thena's crude language. “We both needed that at the moment.” You nod confidently, convinced that's all it was—a simple physical need fulfilled, nothing more. But as you continue to talk, a small, secret part of you whispers that it was more than just a physical need. You felt a connection, a spark, something that went beyond the surface level. But you quickly silence that voice, deciding to keep your true feelings buried deep inside because there is no chance on getting back, you had deleted the app so there is no more way to contact her. But going to her place is a different conversation and there is no way in hell you're going to do that.
Sighing heavily, you rub your temples, trying to ward off the sudden headache that's formed.
“Besides, what would my sons think if they knew I was dating someone their age?” you muse aloud, looking at Thena with concern and embarrassment. “They'd probably be disgusted, Thee…I swear…”
“At least you're not robbing the cradle or y'know. It's not like she's underage or anything.”
“Okay, enough, stop justifying her age. She still lied, which I didn't like. I wouldn’t date someone who's the same age as my son and someone who’s younger, period.” You said with a finality making your best friend laugh at your now serious face, she’s really not used to you being like that.
“Gosh, they wouldn't even let me date anyone,” you sighed, slumping back in your chair dramatically, making Thena laugh even harder.
“You’ve got some overprotective babies there.” Thena chuckles between giggles.
You can't help but agree with your best friend, nodding your head in agreement. “Yeah, they are pretty overprotective. I swear, sometimes I think they forget I'm an adult too.” You smiled, remembering that your two sweet boys are coming home today for summer break.
You are excited and all jumpy thinking that every sound you hear is a knock on a door.
You started preparing for their visit, tidying up your home and making sure everything was just right and in place, especially with their bedrooms. The clock ticked by, and soon enough, finally, you heard a real knock towards the door.
With a quick glance in the mirror to make sure you looked presentable, you went to the door to open it. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves, and then swung the door open.
There they both stood, a cocky smile on their face as they greeted you with a casual “Hey, Mom.”
“Hello my babies.” You almost cried on the spot seeing your grown sons.
“Whatchu cookin’ mama?” your eldest, Mark asked, kissing your forehead before entering the house.
“Your favorite beefy creamy mushroom, baby!” You shout.
“I love you so much, ‘ma!”
Before you could even reply, an arm wrapped around you in a tight embrace, and before you knew it, you were being lifted off the ground, your feet dangling in the air. You squirmed playfully, laughing as you tried to put your weight back down.
“Put me down, you little devil!” You scolded lightheartedly, playfully pushing against your son’s broad shoulders, though secretly enjoying the sweet gesture of your youngest.
As he finally set you down gently, a wide grin still plastered on his face, he let out a sigh and looked at you affectionately.
“I missed you so much, mom.”
“I missed you too, Tony.” You cupped his cheek and pestered him with so many kisses making him giggle.
“I...uhh mama, I hope you wouldn’t mind, I am sorry for telling this to you right now. But I brought a friend over, if that’s fine?” you placed your hands on his shoulders, as he looked at you with his usual puppy-dog eyes, “I owe her big time, I was the reason she’s heartbroken and why her favorite shirt is stolen.”
“Yeah, yeah...” you nodded encouragingly to assure him that it's okay to have some friend over, and the mention of a stolen shirt made you laugh—it was silly you thought.
“Yeah, sure baby…you ca—” you trailed off, your world stopping as you saw the friend your son brought over, standing just few steps behind him.
The friend your son brought over was none other than the person who haunted your dreams every night, the same woman you shared a night with many weeks ago that gave you the most earth-shattering orgasm that not even their father could give.
And you found her looking back at you, her gaze trailing down the shirt you’re wearing that was in fact hers.
“Mom, this is Natasha.”
665 notes · View notes
ponderingmoonlight · 2 days
Note
Hello!! I hope you’re doing amazing!!! I really like your megumi works, so id like to request a fic where him and the reader have a very under cover secret relationship and yuji,nobara and gojo try to figure out why fushiguros been acting so weird. I’d love to see it! And more megumi works 🙏🏽. It’s just a request it’s totally okay if you don’t want to!! Hope you have an amazing week!! 💗💗
Okay, I probably never laughed this much while writing a fic lmao, this right here is ridiculous y'all
Keeping your relationship with Megumi a secret until you can't anymore
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Pairing: Megumi x fem!reader; pure comedy friendship with Nobara and Yuji lol
Word Count: 3k
Synopsis: Megumi Fushiguro’s secret relationship with you has been going smoothly—until his friends start noticing his odd behavior. Yuji and Nobara grow suspicious, launching a hilariously relentless mission to uncover what he’s hiding, while Gojo sits back, amused by the chaos. Will the two of you finally confess?
Warnings: y'all, I almost died writing this hilarious piece of work lmao, I never praise my own work but that bonus has me rolling, if you're looking for a bandage for your broken heart there it is, fluff fluff fluff
Please let me know what you think! If this does well, I might write some more about the chaotic trio lol
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You never thought keeping a secret would be this much fun.
Your relationship with Megumi started quietly, just like most things with him. There was no grand confession, no dramatic kiss in the rain. It was slow, understated, like the way shadows stretch out under the setting sun. You had been drawn into his orbit naturally, like you’d been waiting for it to happen all along.
Still, it wasn’t exactly planned. One moment you were sitting next to each other in silence, and the next you were sitting a little too close. Your fingers brushed. His eyes lingered. The air between you became charged with unspoken things, and soon enough, stolen moments were the only thing keeping you sane. The decision to keep it quiet came easily: neither of you had any desire to deal with the chaos that would break out if anyone found out. And besides, it was kind of thrilling.
But now it’s starting to get tricky.
It’s a normal Wednesday when the subtle shift in the atmosphere begins. Megumi is acting just a little too normal - stiffer, as if he’s hyper-aware of everything. He’s not good at this, at pretending everything is fine when there’s something simmering underneath. And unfortunately, it doesn’t take long for his odd behavior to catch some unwanted attention.
“Hey, Megumi,” Yuji calls from across the room, his eyes squinting suspiciously.
“You’re acting weird. Are you okay?”
Megumi doesn’t even flinch, though his eyes are literally glued to the ground.
“I’m fine.”
That’s it. Flat, simple, closed. He’s good at short answers. It should be enough. It’s not.
Yuji leans over the back of the couch, brow furrowed in confusion.
“No, you’re definitely acting off. You haven’t been sarcastic all morning. And usually by now, you’ve threatened to hit me at least twice.”
Megumi sighs, fingers twitching in his lap, the only outward sign of his discomfort.
“I’m fine, Yuji. Maybe you’re just imagining things.”
Yuji is definitely not convinced. He glances at Nobara, who’s lounging nearby with her arms crossed, already suspicious. She had been eyeing Megumi the second he walked in, catching onto his strange energy faster than Yuji had.
“Yeah, I’ve noticed it too,” she adds, voice sharp.
“Something’s up. You’ve been... I don’t know, distracted?”
“Seriously, I’m—” Megumi starts, but Nobara cuts him off, grinning.
“You’re not hiding anything from us, are you, Fushiguro?” Her eyes gleam with mischief, and you can tell she’s just playing around.
For now.
“Oh, I think I know it!”, Yuji suddenly announces with his arms stretched in the air.
“Do you really, idiot?”, Nobara remarks.
You almost lose your cool, cold sweat dripping down your neck while waiting for Yuji’s next words. He didn’t catch it, did he? Not when you’ve been carefully avoiding being too close to Megumi while they’re around since you first joined Jujutsu High. He simply can’t know it-
Megumi’s eyes flick to you, a barely noticeable glance paired with his reddened cheeks, but it’s enough. Too much. Your heart skips in your chest, and you quickly look away, hoping no one else caught it. But then-
“Oh.” Yuji’s eyes widen in realization, a slow grin spreading across his face.
“Oh, I get it now.”
Megumi’s spine visibly stiffens.
“No, you don’t.”
But it’s too late. Yuji has already decided he’s figured it out.
“You’ve got a crush on someone, don’t you?” Yuji practically shouts, leaning forward in his seat with excitement.
“That’s why you’ve been all weird lately!”
Nobara sits up, clearly intrigued by this new development. “Wait, what? Megumi has a crush?”
“I do not,” Megumi says, but he’s starting to lose his calm now.
You can tell by the way his hand runs through his hair a little too harshly, as if he’s trying to ground himself.
You bite back a smile. Megumi can be as composed as he wants, but when it comes to things like this, he’s terrible at hiding it.
“You’re totally lying,” Nobara declares, standing up and crossing the room to get a better look at him.
“Who is it? Do we know them?”
Megumi groans, pressing his fingers to his temples as if he’s already getting a headache. You’re trying hard not to laugh because if you do, they’ll turn their attention to you. You’ve been careful this whole time to stay out of the line of fire, just a silent observer to this chaos.
But you know it’s only a matter of time.
“I’m not lying,” Megumi grumbles, clearly regretting every decision that led him to this point. “There’s no one.”
It’s almost convincing. Almost.
Yuji leans back, a teasing glint in his eyes.
“Nah, you’re definitely lying. You’re terrible at it. You get all tense, like right now.”
“I’m always tense,” Megumi shoots back.
“True,” Nobara agrees,
“but this is different. You’re acting sketchy.”
Megumi shoots her a flat look, but Nobara only smirks back. She’s having way too much fun with this.
“Is it the one we’ve met at that pizza place yesterday, the one with a big ass and those nice hair?”, Yuji shouts into the conversation.
“The girl from yesterday?”, you repeat before you can stop yourself, arms crossing in front of your tightening chest.
“You guys are gross.”
Megumi’s gaze meets yours, panic shimmering underneath the surface while he fumbles with his own hands.
“What? No! It’s not that one!”
“Oh, not that one, huh? Who is it, then?”
“Fine,” Megumi says, standing abruptly.
“I’m going for a walk.”
Before they can say another word, he stalks out of the room, leaving you alone with Yuji and Nobara. You let out a quiet breath of relief, grateful they didn’t notice you.
Yuji turns to Nobara, eyes wide.
“This is huge. Megumi’s got a crush.”
Nobara hums thoughtfully, rubbing her chin.
“He’s never shown any interest in anyone before. It must be serious.”
“I wonder who it is,” Yuji muses, glancing around the room as if expecting the answer to jump out at him.
Your pulse quickens. If you stay here any longer, you’re going to blow your cover.
“I’m gonna grab some water,” you announce quickly, standing up.
You manage to make it halfway to the kitchen before Nobara’s voice calls after you, filled with sudden realization.
“Wait a minute. You were with him all morning, weren’t you?”
You freeze, your heart pounding in your chest.
“Weren’t you two on a mission yesterday?” Yuji adds, piecing it together far too quickly for your liking.
“And last weekend, too?”
Panic rises in your throat, but you manage to keep your expression neutral when you turn back to face them.
“We’ve just been on a few missions together. That’s all” you say, voice steady.
Nobara narrows her eyes, scrutinizing you.
“Uh-huh. And you didn’t notice him acting weird?”
“Not really. Maybe he’s just worn-out” you lie, doing your best to stay calm.
Yuji tilts his head, still unconvinced but willing to drop it for now.
“Yeah, maybe.”
But Nobara isn’t so easily swayed.
“You sure? Because you’re looking a little-”
“Nobara,” you interrupt,
“you’re overthinking it.”
For a moment, there’s silence. Then, with a final hum of suspicion, she shrugs and lets it go.
But just as you think you’re in the clear, a new voice cuts through the tension.
“Well, well, what do we have here?”
Gojo saunters in, sunglasses perched lazily on his nose, a knowing smirk already playing on his lips. He must have been eavesdropping because he’s grinning like he’s just hit the jackpot.
“Don’t tell me you’re trying to figure out what’s up with Megumi,” he notes, voice dripping with amusement.
“That kid’s an enigma even to himself.”
Yuji perks up at the sight of Gojo, excited to rope someone else into their investigation.
“We think he’s got a crush.”
Gojo pauses, grin widening.
 “Oh, is that so?”
You stand frozen in place as Gojo’s eyes slowly slide over to you, lingering for a beat too long. He knows. You don’t know how he knows, but he knows. He’s always been good at reading between the lines, picking up on things that most people miss. Megumi that traitor, did he really leave you all alone with these two and now even Gojo?
His smirk deepens.
“Well, well, well,” he drawls, leaning casually against the wall, clearly enjoying this far too much.
“I wonder who it could be.”
You’re going to kill Megumi. You’re both dead. This is it. The end of your secret.
But before Gojo can say anything else, Megumi walks back into the room, his expression darkening as he notices Gojo’s presence.
“What are you doing here?” Megumi asks, his voice flat.
“Oh, just catching up with the kids. They were telling me about your little crush” Gojo replies innocently.
Megumi’s eyes dart between you, Yuji, Nobara, and Gojo, clearly calculating his next move.
“There’s no crush,” he replies, exasperation creeping into his voice again.
“Yuji’s just being an idiot.”
“Hey!” Yuji protests, but Megumi ignores him.
Gojo chuckles, pushing off the wall with an exaggerated stretch.
“Well, I think I’ll let you all handle this. Good luck with the investigation.”
He winks in your direction before sauntering out of the room, leaving you tense and trying to avoid Megumi’s gaze.
Yuji and Nobara are still watching him, and you can tell they’re not going to let this go anytime soon.
“So,” Nobara says, crossing her arms. “Are you going to tell us who it is, or are we going to have to follow you around until we figure it out?”
Megumi pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly fed up. “There’s no one.”
“You’re such a bad liar,” Yuji mutters, shaking his head.
Megumi’s about to respond, but then his phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out, glances at the screen, and his expression softens for just a split second before he tucks it away again.
You know who it is. He knows you know.
You’re barely holding back your laughter at this point, trying to keep a straight face. You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks, and you have to look away before anyone else notices.
But Megumi, in his ever-stubborn way, is still trying to salvage this mess.
“I’m going for another walk,” he announces abruptly, clearly done with this interrogation.
“Uh-huh,” Nobara calls after him, grinning like a cat who just caught a mouse.
“Sure, go clear your head, lover boy.”
You can’t help but chuckle quietly as Megumi shoots you a helpless look before heading out the door.
As soon as he’s gone, Yuji leans over to Nobara, whispering loudly.
“Do you think he’s texting his crush?”
Nobara grins, leaning back in her chair.
“Definitely.”
You bite your lip, doing your best to keep your composure while peeking at your phone.
Sorry for the mess. Meet me later in my dorm?
This is going to get much harder to hide.
Later that night, when you and Megumi finally have a moment to yourselves at his dorm, he sighs heavily, dropping down onto the couch beside you. He looks exhausted, and not just from the missions. The day’s events have clearly taken their toll.
“This is getting ridiculous,” he mutters, rubbing his temples.
You smile softly, leaning into his side.
“It’s kind of your fault, you know.”
Megumi groans.
“I know.”
There’s a moment of silence as you both sit there, the weight of your secret relationship pressing down on you. But it’s not a bad weight. It’s more like a blanket, warm and comforting, something shared between the two of you. Something that’s just yours.
Still, you can’t help but tease him.
“You’re really bad at lying.”
Megumi turns his head to look at you, a small, exasperated smile pulling at his lips.
“Shut up.”
You laugh quietly, resting your head on his shoulder, feeling the tension melt away as his hand finds yours, fingers intertwining. For now, it’s just the two of you, and that’s all that matters.
“Maybe we should tell them,” you suggest softly, half-joking.
Megumi’s body stiffens for a second, but then he relaxes, a soft hum escaping his throat.
“Maybe,” he murmurs, voice low.
“But not yet.”
You smile, content with the secrecy for now. It’s your little world, and as chaotic as it is, it’s yours to navigate together.
And for now, that’s enough.
Bonus:
The decision to finally tell them wasn’t exactly well-planned. In fact, it wasn’t planned at all.
It happened after another long day of training. Yuji had been particularly insufferable, constantly pestering Megumi about his “mystery crush,” while Nobara was fuming over how Megumi wouldn’t let her in on the secret.
You and Megumi exchanged looks all day, the unspoken question hanging between you both: Should we just tell them?
By the time the sun set and everyone was lounging in the common area, the atmosphere was thick with anticipation. Nobara was pacing the room, practically radiating with frustration, while Yuji sat on the edge of the couch, watching Megumi like a hawk.
You were sitting next to Megumi, trying not to laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. You hadn’t expected the pressure to mount like this. They’d been relentless for days now.
“Okay, I’m done!”
Nobara throws her hands in the air, eyes narrowing at Megumi.
“I can’t take it anymore! You have to tell us. Who is it?”
Yuji nods rapidly, his eyes wide and pleading.
“Please, man, just tell us! The suspense is killing me.”
Megumi lets out a long, exasperated sigh. He’s been handling this for a week now, and it’s clearly taken its toll. He shoots you a quick, sideways glance, silently asking for your input.
You shrug with a small smile, mouthing.
“Your call.”
With another sigh, Megumi straightens up and clears his throat.
“Fine,” he says, his voice firm.
“I’ll tell you.”
Both Nobara and Yuji freeze, their eyes going wide with excitement.
“Finally!” Nobara yells, nearly vibrating with impatience.
“Okay, okay. Who is it? Is it someone we know?” Yuji questions, leaning in closer.
Megumi looks at you again, and you give him a reassuring nod.
Then, with a small smirk tugging at his lips, Megumi casually slips his hand into yours, right there in front of them.
At first, there’s silence. Complete, deafening silence.
Yuji’s mouth falls open, eyes flicking between your joined hands and your faces, his brain clearly short-circuiting.
Nobara, on the other hand, just stares. Blinks. Then her hands slowly rise to cover her mouth, her eyes growing impossibly wide.
“Wait—” Yuji finally speaks, voice squeaking a little.
“YOU—YOU AND—”
Megumi sighs.
“Yeah. Me and (y/n). We’ve been dating for a while now.”
That’s when all hell breaks loose.
“WHAT?!” Yuji practically screams, jumping up from the couch and pointing at your intertwined hands like they’re some sort of mythical creature.
“NO WAY! This whole time? You guys were dating this whole time?!”
Nobara just starts shrieking incoherently. It’s a mix of disbelief and outrage, her voice a high-pitched wail as she dramatically collapses onto the couch like she’s been personally betrayed.
“YOU HID THIS FROM US?!” she yells, clutching a pillow like it’s the only thing keeping her grounded.
“HOW COULD YOU?! I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS!”
You burst out laughing, unable to keep it in any longer. Megumi pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly regretting every choice that led to this moment.
Yuji is pacing now, running his hands through his hair, still trying to process everything.
“How did I not see it? I mean, I thought you had a crush, but I didn’t think it was… this!” he gestures wildly between the two of you, eyes wide with disbelief.
“Oh my God!” Nobara yells again, standing up suddenly.
“This is insane! You’ve been sneaking around this whole time? That’s it. I demand details! Right now. How long has this been going on?”
“Yeah!” Yuji chimes in, pointing accusingly at Megumi.
“How did you manage to keep this a secret from me of all people?”
You laugh again, raising your hands in surrender.
“Okay, okay, calm down! It’s been a few months. We just didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”
“A few months?” Nobara shrieks, grabbing Yuji’s arm like she needs to hold onto something before she passes out.
“That’s practically a year in relationship time! How did you keep this from us? I’m so offended right now.”
“I knew you were acting weird!” Yuji exclaims, throwing his hands in the air.
“All those times you disappeared, Megumi! I knew something was up!”
Megumi groans, running a hand through his hair.
“You guys are overreacting.”
“Overreacting? This is the most exciting thing that’s happened all year and you hid it from us! You’re for the streets, Fushiguro!” Nobara echoes, voice high-pitched with disbelief.
Yuji nods, agreeing way too quickly.
“Yeah, we need details. Dates, first kiss, how did it start, everything.”
Before you can answer, a familiar voice interrupts the chaos.
“Oh, you guys are just figuring this out now?”
You all turn to see Gojo leaning casually against the doorway, a smug grin plastered on his face, arms crossed like he’s been watching this unfold for a while.
“What?” Nobara screeches again.
“YOU KNEW?!”
Gojo shrugs like it’s no big deal.
“Obviously. It wasn’t exactly hard to figure out.”
Yuji’s jaw drops to the floor.
“You didn’t tell us?”
Gojo tilts his head, grinning.
“And ruin the fun of watching you two idiots freak out? Why would I do that?”
Nobara looks like she’s about to combust.
“So, you just let us suffer, while you were sitting there knowing the whole time?!”
Gojo shrugs again, completely unbothered.
“You’re welcome.”
Yuji groans, dramatically flopping onto the couch beside Nobara.
“I can’t believe this. I feel so betrayed.”
Nobara crosses her arms, huffing.
“Yeah, same. This is worse than the time Yuji ate my fries.”
“Hey, that was an accident!” Yuji protests.
Nobara glares at him.
“It was not an accident.”
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sleep-0-deprived · 1 day
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Yandere CEO who is serious and strict but becomes a real puppy at the reader's feet, he gives everything the reader wants and kneels before him asking to be able to touch and give pleasure to the reader.
Yandere CEO x male reader imagines~! ૮꒰ྀི ⸝⸝․․⸝⸝ ྀི꒱ა
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A/N (I did the Yandere as a sub top and I thought of the Yandere being mid forties while reader being late twenties because I thought it fit best anon!) <33
Just imagining Yandere CEO being a complete heartless man to the world, old and cold as they say. Until he seen your resume running across his desk and if you told him of love at first sight he would scoff at you and kick you out but oh my, when he seen the small picture of you next to your resume he didn’t even care to read it because this man was going to have you. The only words he could think of was “he must’ve been crafted by the gods, I bet Adonis himself spent his life carving those lips” shivers went through him dialing your number trying to get a interview with you.
Just imagining Yandere CEO who hires you at first for your pretty face making you his assistant putting you a desk in his office wanting all eight hours of your days to be spent close as he can get to you, being soft and sweet for you unlike his mean and cold demeanor with the rest of his employees. he’d glance over at you typing something on your computer quietly asking “are you alright? Did you need a break, your hands aren’t sore are they?….i can get you into a nice spa if you’d like. I don’t want my best employee burnt out”
Just imagining Yandere CEO who gets you gifts on the daily nearly pouting if you tell him not to, all he wants is for you to cling to him! He’d beg and plead asking you to let him suck you off whispering in your ear “let me help you out, boy?…I wanna ease you up a bit, you deserve the best so just let me give it to you” he’d mumble getting on his knees and massaging your thighs nice and gentle getting your cock out of your slacks worshipping it nuzzling his face into it peppering your angry tip with wet kisses.
Just imagining Yandere CEO who sends you flowers takes you on fancy trips. Sending you to Rome with him when he goes to sort out business you’re sitting somewhere in a fancy restaurant holding his black card telling you “buy anything you want, I wanna spoil you baby..” and by the time he gets back to your five star hotel room all he asks os for all your affection groaning into your ears holding you by the waist bucking and thrusting his hips up into you from beneath murmuring on and on rambling having you on his cock sending shivers through him “oh you’re so perfect~ pretty little thing~ hng oh fuck moan a little louder you sound angelic like that—“ he’d whimper spilling into you nibbling on your shoulder softly.
Just imagining Yandere CEO who asks you all sweetly if he can have you cock warm him while he manages files, pleading just wanting to please you wanting to have you all sprawled out like a happy cat with his chubby tip pressing and massaging your walls just bullying your prostate while he tugs at your cock like its glass having you orgasming more times than you can count pleasing you like it’s his life’s mission “c’mon baby boy, one more for me? I know you can push it out shhh doin perfect there’s a good boy”
Just imagining Yandere CEO who loves your chest, worshipping them as his holy grail sucking at hurrying his fave in your pretty s/c pecks. Nibbling at your nipples pressing little kisses to your peaks using his hands to massage them while he rotates back and forth making sure each one gets the perfect amount of attention “they are so beautiful sweetheart, god your skin tastes so divine” it was like sex polling with your skin covered in the finest nectar for him driving him insane hazily looking up at you with complete and utter infatuation.
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reidmarieprentiss · 3 days
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Could you perhaps write something? It’s the readers birthday and Reid waits all day to see if she brings it up, but they never do. So he shows up at her apartment with a gift for her and tells her he’ll always remember her birthday, even if she doesn’t tell anyone when it is. And then a little smut occurs. 😱
Birthday Surprise
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader
Category: smut (18+), fluff
Warnings/Includes: smut (18+) additional warnings under the cut, forgotten birthday
Word count: 7.9k
a/n: this is such a great idea i'm so sorry it took me forever to get around to writing it !! it's probably way smuttier than you thought lolol i was in a smut slump but we're back !
main masterlist
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Additional warnings: oral (fem receiving) protected PinV
The day unfolds like any other, with the usual rush of paperwork, coffee runs, and the occasional moment of laughter echoing through the bullpen. You stay focused on your work, avoiding any unnecessary interactions that might draw attention to yourself. After all, it’s your birthday, but you’ve chosen to keep that to yourself. It feels strange, withholding such personal information, but in a high-stakes environment like this, there’s a part of you that prefers to blend into the background. Birthdays aren't meant to be a spectacle here. 
You glance around the room, noticing the typical energy coursing through the space, unaware that a pair of eyes have been subtly watching you all morning. Spencer Reid, as meticulous with people as he is with facts, has always been someone who notices the little things others tend to miss. Today, it’s your silence, the absence of a celebratory card, or a slice of cake that catches his attention. He’s well aware of what today means, not because you told him, but because he knows. Just like he knows the birthdays of every other team member, except yours is different—yours matters more to him. 
Spencer taps his pen against his notebook, his gaze drifting toward you. He debates internally whether to say anything, to let you know he’s aware. He’s read enough about social norms to understand that birthdays often come with expectations—balloons, cake, a few awkwardly sung lines of "Happy Birthday"—but that’s not your style. He’s noticed how you avoid the spotlight, how you prefer quiet moments over public celebrations. Still, he wonders if there’s something you’re hoping for today.
Penelope, typically the beacon of all things celebratory, hasn’t said anything either. But Spencer figures you’ve kept it quiet on purpose. He knows Penelope would have plastered the office with decorations had she been aware, and since the office remains as normal as ever, Spencer figures you’re not in the mood for that kind of attention.
He watches you, waiting for a sign—a smile, a quick glance his way, anything that might suggest you’d appreciate a private acknowledgment. When nothing comes, he respects your decision, but there’s a gnawing feeling inside him. Birthdays are supposed to be special, and even though you’ve chosen not to celebrate, he can’t just let it pass without doing something. Not for you.
The day comes to an end, and not a single word has been spoken about your birthday. You’ve kept it quiet, of course, but still, the silence lingers a bit more than you expected. Not from anyone else, and not from you. Spencer has watched the day unfold in his quiet, observant way, and though he knows you’re not one for grand gestures, he can’t let this pass unnoticed. 
After leaving the office, Spencer’s mind is already set on what he needs to do. He stops by your favorite restaurant, carefully picking up dinner. You never told him your favorite spot, but he’s always been the kind of person who pays attention to the little things—especially when it comes to you. He takes pride in knowing these details, even if he’s never made a show of it.
From there, he heads to a local bakery, the door chiming just as the frustrated baker is about to close. Spencer, out of breath and apologetic, manages to convince the baker to stay open just long enough to get a small cake with your name written on it. The generous tip helps, but more than anything, it’s the desperation in Spencer’s voice that softens the baker’s resolve. 
Now, standing outside your front door with his arms full—dinner in one hand, cake in the other—he uses his elbow to press the doorbell, feeling a flicker of nervousness that’s unusual for him. He never shows up unannounced like this, but he knows this is different. This matters.
Inside, you’re curled up on the couch, completely absorbed in the book your parents sent you as a gift. It’s one you’ve been dying to read for months, and it’s been the perfect way to end your quiet day. The unexpected ring of the doorbell pulls you from your peaceful moment, your brow furrowing slightly as you set the book down. 
You tiptoe toward the door, glancing out the sheer blinds to see who it could possibly be at this hour. When you spot Spencer standing there, your heart skips a beat. You quickly open the door, a confused grin tugging at your lips.
"Reid?" you ask, your voice light but puzzled. "What are you doing here?"
He shifts awkwardly, his arms still burdened with dinner and the cake, and there’s a sheepishness in his expression that’s both endearing and unexpected. 
"Happy birthday," he says, though it comes out more like a question, his uncertainty evident.
Your heart swells at the sight of him, the surprise of his gesture hitting you all at once. You glance at the dinner in one hand, the cake in the other, and something warm blooms in your chest.
"Thank you," you say, your voice soft as you open the door wider. "Come in, please."
Spencer followed you into the kitchen, his eyes subtly taking in the details of your small, cozy home. It occurred to you that this was the first time he had ever been inside, and that realization only added to the strange, fluttery feeling that had been building inside you since he showed up at your door.
He set the bags down on the counter, the quiet clinking of takeout containers filling the brief silence between you. 
“How, um... how did you know it was my birthday?” you asked softly, a hint of shyness in your voice. 
Spencer didn’t look up immediately, making himself busy with the food, carefully unpacking it as though it were an everyday task. “I would never forget your birthday, Y/N,” he replied, his voice so matter-of-fact yet warm. 
His words struck something deep inside you, and your heart swelled all over again, the warmth spreading through your chest and into your limbs. “Reid... that's so sweet,” you murmured, barely able to contain the emotion in your voice.
He smiled over his shoulder at you, that soft, almost boyish grin that made everything feel lighter. “I hope this is okay,” he said, turning around to show you what he had brought. “I guessed you’d like this.”
You blinked, staring at the familiar containers in his hands, and your breath caught in your throat. It wasn’t just any takeout—it was your favorite order from your absolute favorite restaurant. Your mind struggled to process how he could have known, and your body felt like it was on the verge of exploding with a tidal wave of affection and gratitude.
“H–how?” you stammered, unable to get out anything more coherent as your emotions threatened to overwhelm you.
Spencer shrugged in that sweet, almost bashful way he did sometimes, his eyes meeting yours as he simply said, “I pay attention.”
Those three words hit you harder than anything else he could’ve said. It wasn’t just the dinner, or the cake, or even the fact that he’d remembered your birthday without you saying a word—it was that he saw you, truly noticed you, in ways you didn’t think anyone ever did.
Without thinking, you stepped closer, your eyes soft and full of everything you couldn’t put into words. “Reid, you didn’t have to do all of this,” you whispered, but there was no mistaking the happiness in your tone.
He smiled gently, placing the food down on the counter. “I know,” he said, his voice soft, “but I wanted to.”
And just like that, your quiet birthday became something more than you ever could have expected—because of him.
As the two of you settled into an easy rhythm of conversation over dinner, it felt surprisingly natural—despite the unexpectedness of the evening. You sat across from each other at your small kitchen table, the soft clinking of forks against takeout containers punctuating the space between your words. Spencer, usually so reserved and careful, seemed more relaxed, as if the intimacy of the moment had broken down some of his usual barriers.
“You know,” Spencer began between bites, “this restaurant has one of the highest customer satisfaction ratings in the area. I didn’t just pick it at random—I wanted to make sure it was perfect.” He looked up at you, his eyes bright with sincerity.
You smiled, taking in how thoughtful he had been without even realizing how much it meant to you. "I can’t believe you went to so much trouble for this. I really don’t expect anything big for my birthday."
Spencer shrugged, his expression so genuine it made your heart ache just a little. "Well, it’s not just any day. It’s your day. And you deserve to feel special."
His words landed gently, but with a depth that made your pulse quicken. You had always seen Spencer as more than a colleague, but you’d never really considered him in a romantic light. The way he was speaking tonight, though, made you notice things about him you hadn’t before.
“You’re really thoughtful, Reid,” you said, picking at your food, your voice soft. “I don’t think I’ve ever had someone remember the little things like you do.”
He glanced at you with a shy smile, pushing his glasses up slightly. “I like to notice the important things. People tend to overlook those details, but they matter.”
His words hung in the air for a moment, and you suddenly realized how much attention he must’ve been paying all this time. Spencer was always observant—he was a profiler, after all—but this was different. He was talking about you, not in a way that made you feel studied, but in a way that made you feel seen.
“I guess I’ve never really thought about it like that,” you replied, your voice light, though your heart felt anything but. “Most people don’t pay that much attention.”
Spencer looked at you intently then, his gaze soft but unwavering. “It’s hard not to pay attention to you.”
The statement was simple, but the way he said it felt like something more. You felt your cheeks warm, caught off guard by the realization that Spencer Reid might see you in a way you hadn’t seen yourself.
“Reid, I—” you started, but he interrupted, not even realizing the shift in the conversation.
“And you’re always so organized with your case files,” he continued, a small smile playing on his lips. “I appreciate that about you. You make my job easier, and honestly, it’s hard not to enjoy working with you.”
You laughed softly, feeling flustered but trying to keep it light. “You make me sound like I’m perfect or something.”
He tilted his head, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. I’ve always thought you were... well, pretty amazing.”
“I... I didn’t know you felt that way,” you admitted quietly, playing with your fork to avoid looking directly at him.
Spencer, seemingly oblivious to the weight of his own words, shrugged again. “I'm not always good at saying what I’m thinking, but you’ve always stood out to me. I guess it’s just… obvious to me.”
The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, and for the first time, you found yourself really considering Spencer Reid in a different light. Sure, he was brilliant, kind, and more attractive than you’d ever let yourself dwell on—but you had never imagined he might see you that way.
You felt... average. Just you. How could someone like Spencer, with his genius mind and thoughtful nature, possibly see you as anything more than a friend or colleague?
As you looked across the table at him, his expression soft and open, you realized that maybe—just maybe—you had been wrong about where you stood with him.
After the plates were cleared, you and Spencer sat side by side, laughing as you decided to abandon any pretense of formality and dig into the cake with forks. It was just the two of you, after all, and the evening had become too comfortable for anything else. Every bite seemed to add to the warmth between you, and even though neither of you had touched a drop of alcohol, it felt like you were both intoxicated—drunk on the unexpected affection and connection between you.
You noticed Spencer watching you with an intensity that was both thrilling and unsettling. His gaze felt heavier than usual, more present, more... intentional. You couldn’t help but smile, feeling a little self-conscious under his watchful eyes. “What?” you asked, your voice light but breathless as your lips curled into a small, uncertain smile.
Spencer let out a soft laugh, a sound so gentle it sent warmth coursing through you. He shifted closer, his hand lifting, and before you could process what was happening, his palm was cupping the side of your face. His thumb brushed across your lips tenderly, lingering there. 
“You have...” he murmured, eyes never leaving yours, “some frosting.”
His touch was electric, sending a shiver through you, though you were frozen in place. Your lips parted slightly in surprise, but you couldn’t move. Spencer's thumb continued to gently trace the curve of your bottom lip, the moment stretching between you, thick with something you hadn’t realized was there until now.
He leaned in a little closer, his breath brushing your skin as he whispered, “Y/N… I’m going to kiss you. Is that okay?”
His words, soft and tentative, sent your pulse racing, and you barely registered the nod you gave in response. But that was all he needed. Spencer's gaze flicked down to your lips, and he closed the remaining distance slowly, as if giving you every chance to stop him, though you knew you wouldn’t.
His lips met yours gently, a hesitant kiss that was soft, warm, and everything you hadn’t realized you’d been craving. The world seemed to fall away for a moment, leaving just the two of you, locked in something fragile and sweet.
Spencer’s hand stayed cradling your face as he deepened the kiss just slightly, his lips moving against yours with a tenderness that made your heart ache. When he finally pulled back, just enough to look at you, his forehead rested gently against yours, and his eyes were still closed as if he were savoring the moment.
“Was that okay?” he asked quietly, his voice thick with emotion, still holding onto the last traces of your kiss.
You let out a shaky breath, your hands instinctively finding their way to his chest. “Mhm, very okay,” you whispered, smiling softly as your heart raced in your chest.
Spencer opened his eyes slowly, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. The room felt heavier with meaning now, but it was the kind of weight you welcomed, a sense that things had shifted between you in the best possible way.
“Can I do it again?” Spencer asked, his voice playful, his lips pulling into a silly grin that made your heart flip. 
You couldn’t help but giggle at his eagerness, your cheeks warming as you nodded once more. This time, though, you didn’t wait for him to make the first move. You leaned up toward him, your hands sliding from his chest to the back of his neck, your fingers gently threading through the soft strands of his hair.
Spencer’s hands moved from where they had been resting on your face, sliding down to your waist as he pulled you in closer, your bodies now pressed together with a new, delicious kind of tension. He let out a soft, happy hum, the sound vibrating through you, making you feel like your entire body was alight with warmth. 
When you felt his tongue gently part your lips, exploring your mouth with such tender care, you couldn’t help the soft, sweet moan that escaped you. The sound seemed to stir something in Spencer, and you felt his fingers tighten on your waist just as a low, deep groan rumbled from his chest.
Encouraged by his reaction, you tangled your fingers further into his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. The world outside this moment seemed to fade even more, leaving just the feeling of Spencer against you, the intoxicating heat between your bodies, and the soft sounds of contentment that passed between you both.
Each kiss was deeper than the last, each touch more deliberate, as if you were both slowly learning a new language made of gentle caresses and lingering glances. Spencer’s lips were soft and insistent against yours, but always so tender, as if he was savoring each moment, never wanting to rush. The feeling of his body pressed so intimately against yours, his hands gripping your waist like he never wanted to let go, made your pulse race.
Spencer pulled back ever so slowly, his teeth grazing your bottom lip, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. You let out a soft whine, your body instinctively leaning forward, both at the loss of his lips and the delicious pull of his teeth. He rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed as he tried to catch his breath, the air between you thick with unspoken feelings.
"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," he murmured, his voice soft and almost breathless, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.
Your heart skipped at his words, and you tilted your head slightly, curiosity getting the better of you. "How long?" you asked, your voice just as quiet, as if speaking too loudly might break the fragile intimacy between you.
Spencer laughed, the sound low and almost bashful. "Two years and three months," he said with a soft chuckle, his breath tickling your skin.
You paused for a moment, realizing how specific that time frame was. Then it hit you. "That's... that's when I started at the BAU," you said slowly, your mind racing to piece it together.
He nodded, his forehead still resting gently against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the small space between. "Since the first day I saw you, I knew you were special."
His words hung in the air, and something inside you shifted. You could feel the weight of his confession settle in your chest, and it only made the moment feel more intense, more real. Spencer had been feeling this way for so long, waiting patiently, watching from the sidelines, all without you ever knowing.
That’s when you made your decision.
"Take me to the bedroom, Reid," you said, your voice steady but filled with anticipation.
Spencer pulled back instantly, his eyes wide in surprise, his expression almost comically stunned. "What?"
You held his gaze, your hand gently brushing his cheek as you repeated, more softly this time, "The bedroom, please?" You threw in your best puppy dog eyes, knowing it would be hard for him to say no.
For a moment, Spencer was frozen, his mind clearly racing to catch up with the reality of what was happening. "Okay—yeah, yeah," he stammered, still in shock but unable to hide the excitement building in his voice.
He stood back quickly, offering his hand to you with a mix of eagerness and hesitation. You took it, letting him pull you gently from the kitchen, the warmth of his palm against yours sparking something deep inside you. As he led you down the hallway toward the bedroom, your heart raced, the anticipation growing with every step. 
As soon as the bedroom door closed behind you, your hands were already tugging at Spencer’s sweater vest, pulling it over his head with eager fingers. His usually neat hair was left a little wild and messy, and you couldn't help but giggle softly at the sight. He grinned back at you, shaking his head like a dog trying to shake off water, making you laugh even harder.
"You're ridiculous," you teased, but your words were laced with affection.
Spencer just smiled wider, his eyes filled with mischief and desire. Without missing a beat, his hands found the hem of your shirt, slowly lifting it up as you raised your arms in surrender, allowing him to undress you with deliberate care. The fabric slipped over your head, and as soon as it was discarded to the floor, you could feel his gaze roaming over your body.
His eyes lingered on your chest, clearly noticing the absence of a bra, and the way his breath caught sent a shiver through you. There was something so intense, so reverent in the way he looked at you that it made your skin tingle. His hands found their way to your breasts, his touch gentle yet filled with hunger, as if he couldn’t quite believe this was happening.
Without another word, Spencer dipped his head back down, capturing your lips in another kiss that left you breathless. This time, it was deeper, more urgent, as if all the emotions he'd been holding back for years were pouring into this moment. His thumbs rubbed at your nipples as he kissed you, and you could feel his heart beating wildly against your chest, matching the rhythm of your own as you whined softly into his mouth.
Your hands found their way to his hair again, tangling in the soft strands as you pressed your body closer to his, craving more of him, more of the way his lips moved against yours, more of the way his hands explored you.
The moment you felt the unmistakable press of Spencer’s arousal against you, your instincts took over. Your hands trailed down, quickly working at the waistband of his pants, eager to feel more of him. Spencer’s fingers left your body only long enough to undo the buttons of his shirt, your breaths becoming heavier as the distance between you both shrank even more.
Soon, he was down to just his briefs, his skin warm against yours, and for a second, you thought he was about to pull you into another kiss. But instead, he surprised you by crouching down in front of you, his hands resting on your hips. You looked down at him with curiosity and amusement, tilting your head.
“What are you doing down there?” you asked, laughing softly, though your heart was racing.
Spencer looked up at you, and the look in his eyes sent a rush of warmth through your body. There was something almost reverent about the way he gazed at you, like you were the most precious thing he'd ever laid eyes on. “I have wanted this for so, so long,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I want to savor every little bit of you.”
His words made you flush with heat, the intensity of his desire crashing over you like a wave. Your entire body felt like it was on fire, and before you could say anything in response, Spencer's hands were moving again, removing the last pieces of your clothing as he kissed the newly exposed skin. 
And then, you were standing completely bare before him, your most intimate parts now level with his face. The vulnerability of the moment, combined with the raw hunger in Spencer’s eyes, made you feel dizzy, but you couldn’t look away.
It seemed like this was exactly what he had wanted all along. Without hesitation, he leaned in, his breath hot against your skin before his tongue traced a sure stripe through your slick folds. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure up your spine, your knees almost buckling from the sheer intensity of it.
A gasp escaped your lips as Spencer continued, his mouth working with a determination that made it clear this was something he had imagined countless times before. His hands gripped your thighs, steadying you as he continued his ministrations, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate strokes designed to unravel you from the inside out.
You couldn’t stop the moan that escaped your lips, your fingers tangling in his hair once again as he savored you, just like he said he would.
"You taste better than I imagined," Spencer murmured between breaths, his voice thick with desire before he dove back in, his mouth moving over every inch of you, leaving no part untouched. His tongue was thorough, his lips relentless, and each movement made it harder for you to hold on to any coherent thoughts.
Your grip on his hair tightened as a desperate whimper escaped your lips. "You—ungh—you imagined this?" you managed to gasp out between moans, your voice shaky and breathless.
Spencer hummed against you in response, the vibration sending shockwaves of pleasure through your entire body. He didn’t stop, didn’t even slow down, his mouth latching onto your clit with more intensity, suctioning his lips tightly before shaking his head back and forth, creating a sensation so intense it made you scream out, your body trembling with the force of it.
The sound that left you was raw, completely involuntary, as waves of pleasure rolled through you, Spencer's hands gripping your thighs tighter to hold you steady as you lost yourself in the moment. He was relentless, devouring you with an eagerness that matched his earlier words. It was clear he had thought about this—dreamed about this—and now, with you here in front of him, he wasn’t going to waste a single second.
"Reid..." you moaned, your voice breaking as your entire body responded to his touch, your legs threatening to give out beneath you. Each movement of his tongue, each gentle bite or hum, pushed you closer and closer to the edge, and all you could do was hold on tight, letting him take you wherever he wanted you to go.
But then, just as you were teetering on the edge, Spencer pulled back, leaving you breathless and aching for more. The sudden absence of his touch made your body tremble, a desperate whine escaping your lips. When you looked down, confused and still dazed with pleasure, you noticed the almost stern look in his eyes, his lips glistening as he gazed up at you.
"Spencer," he said, his voice low, full of intent.
Your brow furrowed slightly, your mind hazy from the high you had been riding. "What?" you managed to ask, your voice breathless and needy.
His eyes softened, but his expression remained firm. "Call me Spencer," he repeated, his tone a mixture of command and affection, as if this small detail mattered more than anything in that moment.
Before you could fully process it, he leaned back in, parting you gently with his thumbs to give himself even more access. The feeling was overwhelming, your body trembling as he resumed his ministrations with renewed intensity, his tongue and mouth working in tandem, more precise and focused than before.
The need in you swelled again, even stronger than before, and this time, you couldn’t hold back the moans that spilled from your lips. "Spencer," you gasped, his name escaping your lips like a prayer, your body arching into him as he pushed you further and further toward the edge.
Hearing his name on your lips seemed to spur him on, his movements growing even more deliberate as he devoured you with every ounce of the hunger he had been holding back. You were completely at his mercy, unable to think, unable to do anything but feel as he brought you closer and closer to the peak of pleasure, his name falling from your lips again and again.
Spencer could sense how close you were, your breath hitching and your body trembling beneath his touch. He doubled his efforts, his tongue moving with precision and urgency, his fingers pressing against your thighs to keep you steady. The need to see you completely unravel, to give you that release, spurred him on as he focused entirely on you.
Your moans grew louder, more desperate, and then, finally, the tension that had been building in your core snapped. You tilted your head back, your body arching as the overwhelming pleasure took over. With a loud, uncontrolled moan, your hands found Spencer’s hair, gripping it tightly, tugging hard as you released, your body shuddering and your mind reeling from the intensity of it all.
Spencer didn’t stop, his mouth never leaving you as he worked you through your climax, swallowing everything you offered him. The feel of your fingers gripping his hair, the way your body shook as you released in his mouth—it was everything he’d dreamed of, and more. Only when your body began to calm, your breath evening out, did he slowly pull back, his lips brushing against your skin one last time, savoring the moment.
He looked up at you, his eyes dark and full of satisfaction as you slowly came back to reality. You were still breathless, your body weak from the intensity of your orgasm, but the way Spencer looked at you, filled with awe and admiration, made you feel like you were floating.
"That," he murmured softly, "was everything."
“Uh huh,” you mumbled, still floating in the afterglow, your head in the clouds, your body humming with the remnants of pleasure. Spencer slowly rose from his knees, his hands gently skimming your skin as he stood to his full height, a soft, amused smile playing on his lips as he looked down at you.
“You with me, beautiful?” he asked, his voice full of warmth and amusement as he stroked your hair, fingers threading through the strands tenderly.
You blinked up at him, your eyes still hazy with satisfaction, but your smile was soft and content. “I’m with you,” you replied, voice breathy but sincere, your whole body feeling like it was made of light.
Spencer chuckled, the sound affectionate and full of something deeper. “Good, good,” he murmured, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation. “Do you want to keep going?”
A slow smile spread across your lips, and the way you said, “Please, Spencer,” made his heart race with excitement and affection.
Spencer grinned, the playful glint in his eyes returning as he gently guided you down onto the pillows, his hands firm but tender. He leaned over you, his fingers brushing your cheek as he whispered, “Anything for the birthday girl.”
With that, Spencer lowered himself over you, his body pressing against yours with a sweet, delicious heat. You could feel the warmth of him, the anticipation growing as his lips found yours once again, slow and lingering, savoring every second. His hands explored your body as though he wanted to memorize every curve, every inch of your skin, and the way he touched you made your heart race all over again.
This wasn’t just about physical pleasure anymore—it was about something deeper, something that had been quietly building between you both for much longer than either of you had realized.
"Can you..." you started, but then hesitated, suddenly feeling a wave of shyness crash over you. This was Reid, after all, your colleague and friend, someone you'd see at work tomorrow. The reality of that hit you, and it made your heart race for an entirely different reason now.
Spencer, noticing the shift in your demeanor, raised an eyebrow, his voice soft and reassuring. "Can I what, darling?" he asked, a small, amused smile on his lips as he looked down at you.
You shook your head, trying to brush it off, but Spencer’s expression quickly shifted to concern. His hands, which had been tracing gentle patterns on your skin, paused, and his voice became softer, more serious. "Y/N... are you okay?"
You let out a quiet sigh, nodding, but there was still a lingering tension in your chest. "Just... is this going to be weird tomorrow?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. The intimacy of the moment, the emotions wrapped up in everything that had just happened—it suddenly felt fragile when faced with the idea of seeing him at the office the next day, going back to the usual routine like nothing had changed.
Spencer's face softened even more, and he tilted his head, his eyes searching yours. "Weird?" he repeated, his voice thoughtful, as if he was carefully considering your words. He shifted slightly, his hand coming up to gently stroke your cheek. "No, Y/N, this doesn’t have to be weird."
You blinked up at him, your heart settling slightly at his calm demeanor. He continued, his voice gentle but certain. "We can take it one day at a time, okay? But if you're worried about work, nothing between us will change unless you want it to. I care about you too much to let this ruin anything.”
"If anything, this makes everything better," Spencer continued softly, his eyes full of sincerity as his hand stayed gently on your cheek. "I’ve wanted to be close to you for so long. I wouldn’t do anything to mess that up or make you feel uncomfortable. We can handle this however you want—slow, steady, or even just keeping it between us for now."
His words soothed the unease that had started to form, the tenderness in his tone making it clear that he wasn’t rushing anything, wasn’t trying to push for something more than what you were ready for. Spencer, as always, was careful, deliberate, and understanding. The way he looked at you, the way he touched you, made you feel safe, even in this new, uncertain territory.
You took a deep breath, feeling some of the weight lift from your chest. "I just… I don’t want this to change things in a bad way," you admitted, your fingers lightly brushing over his arm as he hovered over you, your bodies still close but the air between you calmer now.
Spencer shook his head, his smile warm and full of affection. "It won’t. I promise. I’ll still be me, you’ll still be you. And we’ll figure out whatever this is together, one step at a time. You don’t have to worry about work or anything else right now. Just... be here with me tonight."
You felt a sense of relief wash over you, his words grounding you in the moment. The fear of what tomorrow might bring began to fade as you looked up at him, trusting that Spencer, with all his care and thoughtfulness, would never let this turn into something that would hurt either of you.
"Okay," you whispered, offering him a small smile. "I’m here with you."
Spencer’s face lit up with a soft, almost shy grin as he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, his hands once again finding their way to your waist, holding you close as if reassuring you through his touch.
“Good,” he murmured against your lips, his breath warm and comforting. "Because I’m not going anywhere."
With that, the tension between you melted away, leaving only the quiet intimacy of the moment. Spencer guided you back onto the pillows, his movements slow and deliberate as he kissed you again, this time with more ease and tenderness, making it clear that whatever happened next would be on your terms, whenever you were ready.
Spencer groaned deeply into your mouth as you pushed his briefs down, your hand wrapping around him, stroking him with just enough pressure to make his breath hitch. You guided him into position, your need for him clear in the way your body responded. His lips never left yours, but his breath grew more ragged as the tension between you mounted.
“Are you sure?” he whispered, his lips brushing against yours, his voice thick with restraint.
You whimpered in response, the feeling of him grinding against you, the tip of his cock hitting your clit, making it impossible to think of anything else. “Please, Spencer,” you begged, your voice trembling with need. “I want you so badly. Please.”
He let out a strained groan, his breath coming in quick, shallow bursts as your words washed over him. "Okay, okay," he whispered, trying to soothe you even though he was losing his own control. "Shh, you never have to beg me for anything, ever."
Your body writhed beneath him, desperate for more, for him, and you shifted your hips instinctively, trying to coax him to push inside. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, and your need for him was palpable in every shaky breath you took.
Spencer, however, managed to hold onto a sliver of resolve, even as it wore thin. "Y/N, beautiful," he said, his voice rough, "we need to use a condom."
"Top drawer," you gasped, your words nearly a plea as your body moved beneath him, craving the release only he could give you. "Hurry!"
With a nod, Spencer fumbled toward the bedside table, pulling the drawer open with shaky hands. He found the box quickly, tearing it open with urgency. Your eyes stayed locked on him, watching every movement, your chest rising and falling rapidly, your skin burning with need.
He returned to you swiftly, sliding the condom on with practiced care, though his hands were trembling. The moment he was ready, he positioned himself above you again, his eyes filled with both desire and affection as he leaned down to kiss you, this time slower, savoring the feel of your lips against his.
"I'm here," he whispered, his voice softer now, filled with reassurance as he finally pressed forward, slowly pushing inside of you, the sensation sending a wave of pleasure crashing through both of you.
Your head fell back against the pillows, a loud, satisfied moan escaping your lips as he filled you completely, your body welcoming him in a way that felt natural, perfect. Spencer groaned, his breath hitching as he felt your tight walls constrict even further around him. 
"Y/N, darling, relax, please," Spencer panted, his voice laced with both urgency and concern as he struggled to hold himself back, his body tense with restraint. He could feel your tightness, the way you clenched around him, and it was driving him wild, making it hard to stay in control. 
You whimpered, your body still adjusting to the sensation. "You're just—ah!" Your voice broke into a loud gasp as he finally pushed all the way inside, filling you completely. The stretch was intense, overwhelming in the best way. "You're so big... why didn't you tell me you were so big?"
Spencer let out a tense chuckle, clearly amused by your reaction despite his own effort to keep himself in check. "I, uh... didn't think it was that big," he managed to get out, his breath shaky as he looked down at you, his forehead damp with sweat from the strain of holding himself back. 
“You’re a fucking liar,” you laughed breathlessly through your whimpers and whines, your body trembling with both pleasure and amusement.
His chuckle, though filled with affection, was also tight with restraint, and you could feel the tension in his body as he tried to keep from moving too quickly. "Just... breathe," he murmured, his voice gentler now as he leaned down to kiss your forehead, trying to calm both you and himself. "I'll give you as much time as you need. I don't want to hurt you."
You nodded, taking deep breaths as your body slowly adjusted to the feeling of him inside you. Spencer’s hands stayed gentle, stroking your sides and thighs as he gave you time to acclimate, though you could feel him trembling with the effort of holding back.
After a moment, you shifted your hips, testing the sensation, and the movement elicited a low groan from Spencer, his self-control wavering. "Okay..." you whispered, your voice soft but filled with need. "I’m ready."
Spencer’s breath hitched, his eyes darkening with desire as he slowly began to move. His pace was careful at first, each thrust deliberate as he let your body adjust to his size, but the tension between you built quickly, and soon, the rhythm grew more urgent, more desperate.
Each movement sent sparks of pleasure through you, the sensation of him filling you so completely making you dizzy with desire. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the way he moved so perfectly in sync with you, as if you were made for each other.
Spencer groaned deeply, his forehead pressing against yours again as his movements grew more intense. "You feel so good," he murmured, his voice strained as he fought to hold himself back just a little longer, wanting to make this last as long as possible for both of you.
"Spencer!" you cried out, your nails digging into his back as your body trembled beneath him, the pleasure overwhelming you.
"Yeah, baby?" he panted, his voice rough and breathless as his hips slapped against yours in a steady, rhythmic motion. "Tell me what you need."
"You! More! Please!" Your voice was a desperate plea, every inch of your body burning with want.
"Fuck," he breathed, his control slipping as he sped up, his thrusts becoming more intense. His hand snaked between your bodies, fingers finding your clit as he began to rub you in time with his movements. The sensation made you cry out again, the combination of his fingers and his body sending you spiraling toward the edge.
“I’m—I’m gonna come,” you whined, your body trembling as you clenched tightly around Spencer, the sensation pushing you toward the brink.
“Y/N!” he gasped, his voice strained as he tried to hold on. “Calm down, baby, you’re going to push me out.”
But you were too far gone to hear him, lost in the overwhelming pleasure that was building inside you. Your whimpers grew louder, your body thrashing uncontrollably as Spencer’s fingers moved faster, working in perfect rhythm with your body's need.
Suddenly, it hit you all at once, the most intense release you’d ever experienced. You let out a violent scream, your entire body shaking as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you, something deeper and more powerful than anything you'd ever felt before.
Your walls clenched so tightly that you did, in fact, push Spencer out, and you gushed all over him, your body overwhelmed by the force of your orgasm. Spencer let out a low groan at the sensation, his eyes wide with a mixture of awe and arousal as he watched you come undone in front of him, watched your release coat his stomach and thighs.
“Did you just... squirt?” Spencer asked, his voice full of pure awe as he looked down at you, his eyes wide with amazement.
You were a panting mess on the bed, completely spent from the intensity of what had just happened. “That, or I just peed on you,” you mumbled, half-joking but still trying to make sense of the overwhelming sensation you had just felt.
Spencer laughed, shaking his head as he dipped down to kiss you, his lips soft against yours. “You are so sexy, Y/N,” he whispered, his voice full of affection and admiration.
You kissed him back tiredly, your body too exhausted to do much more, but the desire to give him what he needed still lingered. "Want you to come too," you whined softly, your words almost pleading.
“Okay, okay,” Spencer soothed, his breath hitching as he positioned himself once more, slowly pushing back inside you. The sensation made your body jolt, and you cried out, your back arching from the overstimulation. It was too much and yet not enough, the oversensitivity sending sharp pulses of pleasure through you.
“Are you okay, darling?” Spencer asked, his voice breathless as he fought to hold himself back, concerned about your comfort.
You nodded quickly, though your body was trembling beneath him. “Nuh huh,” you whimpered, your voice shaky as you gripped him tightly, pulling him closer. “I’m okay, I want this. Please,” you urged, your body still sensitive but craving the closeness, needing to feel him chase his own release.
Spencer groaned at your words, his resolve crumbling as he began to move again, thrusting into you with an increasing pace. His body was tense, his breath ragged as he neared the edge, each movement sending both of you into a dizzying spiral of pleasure.
You clung to him as he chased his release, your breaths mingling, your bodies connected in a way that felt intimate and overwhelming all at once. And when Spencer finally let go, his body shuddering as he found his own climax, you held him close as he groaned and whispered your name. 
After Spencer had taken care of both of you, gently cleaning you up and even changing the sheets that had been soaked in your release, the two of you finally settled into bed, wrapped up in each other's arms. His body was warm against yours, his breath steady as he held you close. Everything felt so perfect, so right in that moment, like the world had shrunk to just the two of you in that cozy little space.
You nuzzled into Spencer's chest, feeling his heartbeat under your lips as you placed a soft kiss there. "I want things to be different," you mumbled, your voice quiet and filled with a softness that made his heart swell.
Spencer looked down at you, his hand stroking your hair gently. "Yeah?" he asked, the happiness in his voice evident. "Different how?"
You shifted slightly, still cuddled close, your lips brushing over his skin. "I want everyone to know," you murmured, your voice more certain this time.
Spencer chuckled softly, though he held you tighter, a smile spreading across his face. "Know what exactly?" he asked, teasing slightly, though he had a feeling he knew where this was going.
You tilted your head up, meeting his eyes with a sweet, serious look. "That you're my boyfriend," you said, your voice full of affection, but also with a sense of determination.
Spencer’s heart fluttered at your words, and he couldn’t help but break into a grin. He’d never thought he’d hear you say something so simple yet so powerful. "Boyfriend, huh?" he teased softly, though his own voice was thick with emotion. He pulled you closer, resting his forehead against yours. "I think I’d like that," he whispered.
You smiled, feeling the warmth of his words settle over you like a blanket. "Good," you replied, kissing him softly. "Because I want everyone to know how lucky I am."
Spencer let out a soft laugh, his thumb gently tracing the outline of your face. "I think I’m the lucky one, Y/N," he murmured, his voice filled with nothing but pure, overwhelming happiness. And in that moment, with the two of you wrapped up in each other, everything felt like it was exactly as it should be.
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bpmiranda · 11 hours
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hey could I request lumberjack Logan being known as all emo and solitaire at work but one day his gf shows up because he forgot lunch?
My Girl (Logan Howlett)
A/N: fluffy, lumberjack!logan, bubbly!gf, 20+ f!reader, grumpy!logan, suggestive content
When Logan spent most of the day chopping wood and hauling tree trunks, he wasn’t exactly a in a chatting mood so the men he worked with didn’t really know much about him. Logan put in the long hours and he’d go home, he wouldn’t ever go to the bar with them, wouldn’t join in on the work gossip. His coworkers only knew two things about him; his name and what car he drove. Sometimes he would be dropped off and they only ever saw the silhouette of whom they could assumed was a woman, but Logan never had her get out of the car.
“Who’re you hiding from us, Logan?” They would tease and he’d only smirk to himself, shaking his head as he continued his tasks.
You weren’t a secret, he wasn’t trying to hide you. Logan wanted to keep you safe, to protect you, and above all, keep you to himself. Some of the men didn’t know how to control themselves around pretty women and Logan believed you were the prettiest thing to grace the Earth. He knew he wouldn’t be able stand their ogling eyes on you, their cheap sweet talk making you uncomfortable, so he’d kiss you and tell you he loved you before getting out, he’d tell you to sit in the car as he grabbed his tools, and give you a sly wink as you backed out to head home.
It wasn’t your intention to drive up there without his knowledge, but he had forgotten his lunch and you couldn’t stand the thought of him working those long shifts without something to eat. As you scanned the yard for him among the others who were already taking their lunch break, one of them began to approach you with a small smirk, his eyes roaming over the backside of your jeans. When you spotted Logan, he was already sauntering towards you, the ax resting over his shoulder as you happily bounded over to him, unaware of the man now cowering below Logan’s sharp gaze behind you. “Don’t be mad. You forgot your lunch.” You say against his lips as he brings you into his aide with an arm around your waist. You press a hand into his chest and hold tightly onto his lunchbox behind his back as he kisses you with such fervor it makes you dizzy.
It’s his fault he forgot it, left it sitting there on the counter on which he also had you sitting with his head between your thighs. It had been a rushed morning, but if he was going to choose whether to spend what extra time he did have packing his lunch or pleasuring you, he would choose the latter again. “Couldn’t ever be mad at you, baby.” He whispers against your lips, holding you so possessively you feel slightly out of breath. “You should go home now,” He urges and he feels your lips turn into a frown against his mouth which makes him chuckle. “Or would you like to stay with me during lunch?” He asks and you nod. “Just this once.”
The other men in the lumberyard understand why he’s always racing to get home. They understand why there’s no space in his life for work buddies or late night drinks at the bar. Logan’s in love. They see it in the way you two seem to be in your own little world as you sit on the hood of the car, yapping his ear off about the errands you’re going to run and the dinner you’re going to cook while he leans against the hood beside you, eating and listening with a content look in his face. “You don’t have to go through all that trouble, princess.” He tells you as he’s packing up his lunchbox.
“Well then, what will we have for dinner?” You tease as he moves to stand in front of you, leaning into you so he can kiss you softly, his hands firmly planted on the hood as you caress his bearded jaw.
“I was hoping for a dessert first type of evening.” He whispers, making your face grow warm as he mumbles into your neck, “Let me take you out for dinner.”
The idea of a night out so you can have a relaxing night in is quite appealing and you hum as his lips move to your collarbone. “What should I do until you get home then?” You ask, sighing as he bites your earlobe gently.
“Wait for me in bed.” He whispers, one of his hands smoothed down your back and he pulls you into him, pressing your chest into his own. “You don’t have to do anything else for me today, sweetheart.”
Logan was secluded, he wasn’t big on having drinking buddies, and there wasn’t much that he wanted in terms of things. With you, however, Logan was kind and doting and all he wanted was to keep you happy and satisfied, you were all that mattered. You were his little piece of heaven on Earth and he wasn’t going to allow anything to soil what you two shared, not in this lifetime.
🏷️: @dontfeedthebigbadwolf @peterparkernotfound @httpsells @evasmlp @ayatotiddies @thatlittlered @seasonofthenerd @littlemisscantloveyouback @scorpiosaintt @simpingfor-wakasa @spencerswh0r3 @thatweirdtheaternerd12 @shybluebirdninja @iamburdened
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fumiliar · 2 days
Text
self-restraint is one thing kento prides on. he is a good man, or at least he tries to be. his eyes landed on your flailing figure, pinching his nose bridge to prepare himself. you, gojo, kento and shoko went out for drinks to celebrate the fact you 4 were still alive.
your mind was blank, you had no self-control, it was like the shame centre in your brain got turned off.
"oh my god!" you squealed in excitement. "my favourite song!" you stumbled off your bar stool, going to stand up on the table, gojo supporting your brave act.
kento acted quick. right when your foot landed on the table, you were pulled back by an immeasurable amount of strength, your back landing on someone's muscular chest.
"how drunk are you?" a gruff voice spoke right beside your ear, sending shivers through your whole body. your senses were already heightened, but at this moment, you could feel everything. you could hear the fastening rhythm of your heart, along with the steady rhythm of another's.
"earth to y/n~," satoru's singsong voice echoed through your empty head.
"yea, sorry," you shook your head, turning around to see kento's disapproving look. his hand keeping a deathly grip on your wrist, ensuring you were always close to him, in case you'd do something embarrassing, or at least that's what he tells himself.
"y/n, i'll bring you ho-"
"don'tt, you're such a party pooper nanamin! we were just getting started," the blue eyed man whined, he looked like he was about to start a tantrum.
"yeah, let's just wrap it up, i wanna go home," shoko agreed with kento, getting ready to leave. "i'll leave y/n to you, gojo, come." satoru following shoko like a sad puppy.
"let's go home," kento used his free hand to pack up your stuff, double checking if you took anything out of your purse.
"you're so hot when you take care of me," you freely complimented kento, his ears slowly turning beet red.
"i like you kento, you know that right?" you kept talking, kento's face slowly turning a darker shade of red. "why are you so red? are you having a fever?" you used your free hand to feel his forehead, even in your drunken state, you still worried about his health.
"no...y/n. i'm fine," he put your bag on your shoulder as he led you out of the establishment.
"ow....my feet hurt ken," you pouted looking down at your heels.
restrain yourself kento. restrain. was the only thing he could think off as he looked back at you. he didn't want to take advantage of your drunken self. he knelt down as he took of your heels, you bracing yourself on his back. he slowly took your hand of his back, putting down your heels on the ground to take off his blazer.
"up," his back facing you as he knelt down. you weren't going to waste a chance getting piggy backed. instantly, your arms slid around his neck as your legs trapped his torso. kento stood up, picking up your heels and adjusting his hold on you.
"comfy?" you nodded against his neck. "take this, and wrap it around your waist," he handed you his blazer. you instantly listened, wrapping the blazer around your waist, making sure you don't flash anyone along your way home.
"ken, you're so good to me," you mumbled, nibbling on his neck, eliciting a groan out of the man.
"you're such a tease," kento chuckled, smiling to himself at his current predicament.
"we're not even dating....hft," you sighed. kento let out a hearty laugh at your dissatisfaction.
"why do you want us to date?" kento asked making you even more disappointed.
"what woman doesn't want stability!" this time you were annoyed. you straightening your back, not leaning on kento's anymore. kento was still joyful, instead of responding to your annoyance, he loosened his grip on your legs, your instincts kicked in, quickly wrapping your hands around his neck once more to ensure your safety.
"were you about to drop me??" panic was evident in your tone, but kento was still amused. "answer me!" your hand hitting on his chest.
"y/n," kento sternly called out your name, abruptly stopping your abuse on his chest. "we're married love, isn't that the epitome of stability? why would i regress our relationship to just boyfriend and girlfriend?"
"huh?..." you were confused for a second, quickly looking at your hand. and there it was, glistening in the moonlight, your wedding ring. "oh.."
kento couldn't help but tease your drunken self, his self-restraint always wavering when it came to you. the prim and proper man turning playful in your presence, he just couldn't help it. he continued his walk home, occasionally giggling at your forgetful nature.
"i hope you don't forget this moment," kento muttered under his breath, knowing full well you would have no memory of this event, only a pounding headache to remind you of yesterday's events.
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hrts4doie · 3 days
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[12:47] 💭 i think i should text my ex…
wc: 1.4k
warnings: ex bf!jaehyun x f!reader, nsfw (MDNI), car sex (why do i always end up here), unprotected sex, fingering, implied cheating (i do Not condone!!!!), breeding kink, use of pet names (baby, angel), teasing, light humiliation, light angst like blink and you’ll miss it type light
a/n: i’ve been so crazy over jaehyun recently anf this was the result…. silly hard hour to let u all know i want Him so BAD……. i listened to smoke and roses on repeat while writing this im NOT OKAY!!!!
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“you know we shouldn’t be—fuck, jae,” you gasp, letting your head fall back against the seat. jaehyun’s lips trail along your neck, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses all over your skin.
“shouldn’t be what?” jaehyun mumbles between kisses, nipping at the corner of your jaw. “you’re the one that called me, desperate and whining for my attention,” he teases with a laugh.
“just—just don’t leave any marks,” you whine, proving his point further, and carding your fingers through his hair with a gentle tug. your pussy throbs as he pushes you further and further down into the seat, body pressing hotly against yours, and overwhelming your senses to the point where you can hardly think.
“a hickey will be the least of your problems once i’m done with you, baby,” jaehyun says, pulling away from your neck with one last kiss. he grinds his hips into yours, pressing his hard-on against your throbbing core. “what’s he gonna think when he sees you later, hm?”
small waves of guilt wash over your body from jaehyun’s words, settling deep inside your belly and threatening to make you think about him, your boyfriend who barely pays you any attention. he’s sweet, takes care of you when you need it, but his attention is always elsewhere.
on nights like these, where your boyfriend could care less about what you’re doing, you always find yourself craving jaehyun’s attention instead.
“it doesn’t matter what he thinks,” you whine again, wrapping your arms around his neck and forcing yourself to forget about him. besides, jaehyun’s ruined you for any other man, fucking you stupid with his cock until all you can think about is him, repeating his name like a mantra.
“yeah,” jaehyun breathes, easily agreeing. his hands grope at the skin of your thighs and tease dangerously along the top of your panties, making your breath hitch with anticipation. “i’ll fuck you so good you forget about that stupid boyfriend of yours,” he says with a smug grin, sitting up and pulling down your panties.
“please,” you beg, lifting your hips to help him, “need your cock so bad, jae.”
jaehyun shushes you, circling your clit with two gentle fingers. “i know, baby,” he coos, his eyes fixated on your pussy and watching as it glistens with how wet you are. “you missed my cock that badly?”
“missed it so much,” you moan, nodding your head and rolling your hips desperately into his hand, overwhelmed from the smallest bits of pleasure. jaehyun’s fingers dip between the folds of your pussy, trailing down to tease at your hole by just barely pushing the tips of his fingers in.
you whine at his teasing, frustrated and desperate for him to do something. “please, jaehyun,” you cry, hole fluttering around the tips of his fingers as your body begs to be filled.
“so fucking wet,” jaehyun mumbles, ignoring your pleas and pushing two fingers deep inside your pussy. “i could probably fuck you right now with how wet you are, baby. don’t even need my fingers to fit inside this tight little hole—fuck,” he groans, cock straining against the fabric of his jeans as he pumps his fingers in and out.
“jaehyun!” you gasp, his words making you burn hot with desire. his fingers curl deep inside you, causing you to throw your head back with a loud moan.
“just a little more,” jaehyun says, slipping in a third finger. “tell me how bad you want my cock and then maybe i’ll fuck you like you deserve,” he continues, dragging out his teasing and leaning down to nip at your jaw again.
“want your cock so bad, jae, please!” you beg, growing increasingly more frustrated because jaehyun’s too busy playing one of his stupid games to give you what you want.
part of you thinks that the push and pull between the two of you is why you were never bound to work. but, another part of you thinks that it’s exactly why you keep coming back, despite swearing that you’d never see his face again. jaehyun’s always been like an itch you can’t scratch, a craving you were never supposed to have.
he’s imprinted on you, wether you like it or not, and you’ll never find someone who makes you feel the way he does.
“i got you, pretty girl,” jaehyun mumbles into your jaw, biting once more before he pulls away, taking his fingers out and reaching down to palm his bulge. he works quickly to unzip his jeans and pull his boxers down, sighing when his cock springs free.
jaehyun’s big, always has been, and your pussy throbs as you imagine what it’ll feel like to finally have his cock inside you again, filling you up and stuffing you to the brim.
he spits into the palm of his hand before wrapping it around the base of his cock, slicking up his length with a quiet moan. jaehyun then grabs the tip of his cock and teases it along your hole before finally pushing in, bottoming out in just one thrust.
“oh fuuck,” you moan, long and drawn out as he fills you up, hole stretching around the thickness of his cock.
“missed this pussy so much,” jaehyun groans, slowly starting to move his hips and thrusting deep inside you. “such a perfect pussy, sucking me in like you were made for it,” he continues, hips snapping against yours in a desperate chase for pleasure.
“jaehyun!” you gasp, unable to think of anything else as he thrusts deeper and deeper inside you, thick cock dragging against your walls and fucking you so good that you can hardly speak. your pussy clenches tight around him, drawing another deep groan from his mouth.
“t-that’s it, baby,” jaehyun moans, tightly gripping your hips. “so fucking—so fucking good,” he pants out, picking up the pace and thrusting even faster than before.
you claw desperately at his back, unable to hold back your moans as jaehyun fucks into you, rocking the car with how powerful his thrusts are. he’s so deep inside you, fucking you so hard that you’re scared you’ll break.
“jae—jae, oh my god,” you cry, tugging him down so that his body presses hotly against yours. heat pools deep inside your belly as he continues to fuck you, pulling you down onto his cock with every thrust of his hips.
jaehyun tucks his head into the side of your neck, panting heavily against your skin and moaning as your walls wraps tightly around his length, sucking him in every time he attempts to pull out.
“baby,” he whines, squeezing his eyes shut, “m’so close, baby. feel so—so good around me.” his thrusts become sloppy as he nears his orgasm, tucking his head even further into the crook of your neck.
“me—fuck! me too!” you moan, placing a hand on the back of his head, keeping his face tucked into your neck. your stomach tightens as he keeps thrusting, orgasm threatening to spill over. “gonna cum, jae—oh god,” you cry as he brings a hand down to rub at your clit, sending you hurdling over the edge with another deep thrust.
jaehyun’s hips stutter before he pushes inside you with one last final thrust, whining into your neck as his cock spills deep inside your pussy. cum paints your walls, claiming you as his and filling you to the brim.
“fuck,” jaehyun whispers against your neck, causing you to laugh. you’re too fucked out to care about what it means that jaehyun, the man that isn’t your boyfriend, just came deep inside you as if you were his.
after a couple moments of the two of you trying to catch your breath, finding it difficult to breathe in the heat of the car, jaehyun sits up and slowly begins to pull his cock out of you. he bites his lip and watches as cum begins to spill out of your hole, dripping onto the leather beneath you.
“sometimes i miss you,” you sigh, staring up at the roof of the car. you try not to whine as you feel jaehyun’s fingers drag through the mess that’s been made of your pussy, pushing his cum back inside you.
“you shouldn’t,” comes jaehyun’s response, short and blunt. it’s the truth, because both of you know you wouldn’t work, no matter how many second-chances you were given.
“i know,” you reply, making eye contact with him and trying to read what he’s feeling. it’s one of the things jaehyun came to hate about being with you; the way you were always able to read him like an open book.
jaehyun avoids your gaze, moving to zip his pants back up. “i’ll clean you up then drive you home, baby. make sure to tell your boyfriend i said hey when you get there, okay?”
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a/n: Umm i got carried away i think…zzzzbsn i just want jaehyun so bad and listening to smoke on repeat somehow made me think about ex bf jaehyun 😖😖😖 i tried to keep the angst to a minimum so that’s why this sex feels a little fast paced but i Just… i love Angst… maybe i’ll make a full version one day rhat’s more angsty ALSO WHINY JAEHYUN TRUTHERS RISE!!!! lmk ur thoughts and delusions in my inboxxxx if u have any 🙂‍↕️
tags: @hisunflower @wispyxjae (special tag for u because i made u wait so long for the jaehyun meal LOLOLOL)
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twistyfish · 3 days
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Your writing is so good whaaatt!! Could you do another comfort fic with the lad boys? Maybe like they come home and the reader is crying for whatever reason and so onnn. I love comfort fics 🤧🤧
thank you very much! here you are. i’m in a bit of a writing slump honestly 🥲, but i tried. also, some of you are requesting, which i’m very grateful for! if I don’t respond immediately it’s because i’m working on something else at the moment.
prompt~ they come home to you crying.
𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴 𖣴
Zayne
You were so exhausted. You woke up with a horrible headache and did badly in training today because of that. Captain Jenna snapped at you over your simple errors, which made you feel worse.
You wordlessly picked a mug out of the cupboard and filled it with water. You brought it to your lips and drank, each gulp sounding against the metronomic headache that wouldn’t let you rest. A trickle of blood dripped down your philtrum, making a small splash in your cup. Sniffing, you wiped your nose.
Each drop of blood that ran from your nose overwhelmed you more and more until you were scrubbing your nose with your sweater sleeve, the wool fibers catching the liquid. You pulled your arm away and it looked like a surgeon’s rags.
Speaking of surgeons, your boyfriend chose that unaesthetic moment of you messily wiping your nose to walk into the kitchen. You put your arm by your side and tried to act normal as he fixed himself a cup of juice.
You kept your back turned to him as he asked, “How was training today?”
“Training was pretty standard. Tara told me she’s thinking of getting a tattoo.”
“Really? Did she tell you what kind of tattoo?”
“A pair of cherries.” You were just making stuff up, trying to find an exit from the conversation so you could clean up. “I’m going to go change into pajamas.” You quickly walked up the stairs before he could say anything.
Lip quivering, you picked out a set of pajamas and put it on the bed. You stripped out of your sweater, and the red patch on the sleeve caught your eye. Shit. Why did you wipe your nose on it? It would definitely stain. You really liked this sweater, too.
You felt your eyes burn, a fun contrast to the other sensations of your throbbing head and leaky nose. Tears slipped from your eyes, and you held back the sobs for a few beats before giving up and muffling your face in the already stained sweater.
You must have been like that for a while, because Zayne meandered upstairs without you hearing and peeked inside the bedroom door. “You’ve been up here for a while. What are you-,” he stopped, eyes widening. “Hey. Hey, what’s wrong?”
He quickly walked over and put a hand on your back, peering down at you. “Is that blood?”
You wiped your face on the sweater before letting it plop to the floor. “Yeah,” you said tearily.
“Why are you bleeding? And why are you crying?” Came his calm response.
“I had a bloody nose, and… I don’t know.” You dissolved into sobs again. He looked at you sadly, his hazel eyes big and worried. He pulled you into a hug, holding you tightly for a few minutes until you calmed down. He rubbed your bare back, feeling the goosebumps and pulling your pajama shirt over your head.
“You don’t have to run away. From me, or your feelings,” he whispered.
𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖 𐦖
Sylus
The air was too heavy. There was too much to dwell on, too many morbid and sickening atrocities that made you feel sour. You couldn’t comprehend how the world was still spinning with so many terrible people weighing it down. You certainly felt like you had been kicked off your axis.
It was more than anyone could take. One too many cases of something horrible on the news, and your stomach was churning. The reporter had described the event so plainly, with a grim resignation. The world was so advanced, and yet….
You didn’t feel the remote slip from your hand. You didn’t hear it clatter on the floor. You didn’t feel the tears swim down your face. You only registered that you were crying when your throat produced a strangled sound, and you finally clapped your hands to your eyes and just bawled.
You cried until you were dehydrated and numb and the garage door opened with a muted whirring. Your large boyfriend entered a few moments later, and you heard a quiet gasp as he took in the sight of you sobbing on the couch.
Sylus seemed less like a fiend and more like a fairy with the way he flitted around you, uncharacteristically lacking composure while trying to figure out what was wrong. By that point, the news had changed to some other story, and he looked confusedly at the TV.
“Darling, are you crying about inflation?”
That didn’t even get a smile from you, so he just picked you up from under the armpits and rocked you slowly, like a baby. You continued to cry softly as he shushed you and whispered comforting words in your ear.
“What’s wrong, sweetie?” He asked gently.
“There are so many bad people in the world,” you managed to say through weak hiccups.
“I know. You’re dating one of them.”
“You’re different,” you mumbled. “
“Oh? How am I different?”
“You’re an evil bastard, but I love you.”
He laughed throatily at that, and you felt a little better.
𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝 𓆝
Rafayel
You were in a nice hotel, lying amidst silky duvets and plush, fat pillows. The moonlight snuck through the gaps between the ivory curtains and created beautiful spectral patterns on the walls.
Your darling fiancé was sleeping with his arm wrapped around you, so why were your shoulders shaking? Why were soft, choked sobs escaping your lips? Why the hell were you crying on vacation?
You didn’t know. All you did know was that Rafayel was stirring, surely awoken by your movement.
“Are you crying?” He murmured sleepily, propping himself up.
You willed yourself to stop shaking, stop being weak and just shut up. But it wasn’t working. The misery and self pity was eating you alive.
“Oh, sweetie,” he said, gently turning you around and cupping your head, kissing your wet cheek. “Don’t cry. You’ll get dehydrated.”
More tears ran down your face, and he continued to brush them away with soft fingers. “What’s wrong, my gorgeous girl?”
“I don’t know,” you choked out. “I just feel bad.”
“Oh, my love….” Rafayel kissed you again with sweetness and compassion. He combed through your hair with his fingers and rubbed your cheek with his thumb. He didn’t know how to soothe you, so he did the only thing he could think to do. He distracted you.
He brought his lips to yours and gently showed you his love for you. Whatever you were feeling, he would overpower it with all his heart.
✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰
Xavier
The clash of metal exploded in the air as your swords collided yet again, and you dodged another attack. Your eyes were burning. There was absolutely no way you were about to cry while sparring with Xavier.
But the next time your swords collided and you met Xavier’s soft, focused gaze, you failed to hold it back. You stared intently into his eyes as both of you struggled, and while straining against his sword, tears began falling from your eyes. His own eyes widened, and he stepped back, pulling his mask down.
“Are you injured?” He asked worriedly. “Did I hurt you?”
You shook your head, lip trembling. You let out a shaky sob, and that was enough to concern him further.
“__….” He was at a loss for words. He had never seen you cry, and now….
“What happened?” He bent down, trying to assess your expression. You were trying not to let the tears win, but they definitely were. You finally gave up trying to hold it in and let your sword drop to the floor with a soft clink, now crying openly.
Xavier reached out hesitantly and pulled you into his embrace. Both of you were hot and stinky from sparring, but that didn’t matter. Not while you were crying.
You let out muffled sobs into his neck, letting him hold you as the two of you sank to the floor. Your tears mingled with the sweat on his shoulder, and he rubbed your back soothingly as you cried. He held you like that for a while.
“I’m sorry,” you said once the sobs had died down.
“It’s okay. I just want to know where this came from,” he replied in that sweet, soft voice.
“I’m tired,” came your plain response. He didn’t question you further, and gently patted your head.
He helped you pick up your things and walked you to the locker room, and you stopped to take a drink at the water fountain. His gaze was fixed on you as you drank, eyes tracing the curvature of your lips. He was so engrossed in watching you drink that you couldn’t help but feel shy.
You finished drinking and said bye to Xavier, still thinking about the interaction. He was always soft spoken, but you didn’t know he could be this gentle. Maybe you should talk to him more outside of sparring.
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 2 days
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just a thought !! but what do u think ‘suki would do if he accidentally hurt reader ? like an elbow to the nose or smth , bc i kid u not that happened with my bf today and he would not leave until i told him i was fine 😭 js thought that katsu wld be an internal emotion wreck ??!
wait i love this omg😭😭tysm for the ask anon this is so cute, your boyfriend sounds like a sweetheart !
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your nose stings.
you don’t really know how it happened, but you ended up getting decked in the nose by your boyfriend. accidentally, of course, said boyfriend would rip his own nails of before even thinking of hurting you. however, said boyfriend was also built out of fucking marble.
so it wouldn’t be surprising to say your nose hurt like a bitch.
“ow, ow, ow !” you whine, katsuki channels through confusion, realization and utter fear in about a millisecond. his hands smack against your face.
“holy—shit ! what the fuck’re y’doin’ ?!” his eyes scan all over your face like he’d shot you, and it honestly almost felt like he did. his hands grip at your cheeks. you wince when he presses his thumb to your nose. “ow—i was jus’ g’nna surprise you—ouch, katsuki !”
you pull your face out of his grip but he pulls you back, “stop squirmin’ an’ let me see.” he mumbles quietly, eyebrows furrowed hard. in focus or anger or worry but probably a mix of all three if you knew anything about him.
“holy fuck, why were you sneakin’ around like that, dummy..” you want to roll your eyes about him still trying to scold you, but the tone of his voice is different then when he usually does. he does sound genuinely worried so you want to reassure him.
“i was just trying to say hello.” you reiterate. “suki, i’m fine. it’s already starting to hurt less.” he ignores you and continues to inspect your face.
“nothin’ broken..” he mumbles to himself, thumbing at your nose a bit softer this time. you manage a snort.
“of course not, jesus, katsuki—”
“you’re okay, yeah ?”
“yes !” you giggle, gripping at his wrists. he pouts, studying your face. “it’s already starting to hurt less.”
he frowns even harder “i elbowed the shit outta you.”
“by accident.” you correct, “katsuki, it’s fine.”
“..you’re sure.”
“i’m sure.” you nod, smiling at him to reinforce your point. he squints, then sighs loudly. leaning in to kiss the bridge of your nose, copying the get better kisses you jokingly give him that he always scoffs at but insist you give him without fault. it hurts a bit, but you feel giddy anyway, your smile grows wider.
“don’t sneak up on me like that again, dummy.” he insists “i mean it.”
you cross your fingers together “promise.” you hum, he scoffs, you don’t think he can muster up a roll of his eyes right now since he can’t seem to be able of taking them away from you. he runs his thumb over your forehead.
“if it starts hurting or something, you tell me.”
“katsuki !” you groan, laughing. katsuki doesn’t look amused. not at all.
he growls “oi, i mean it.”
“i got it, i told you i am fine. you’re okay.” it seems that was the reassurance he needed. that you weren’t mad at him to boot. he exhales, shoulders dropping the slightest bit.
“…...you’re positive ?”
“katsuki, i swear to god—”
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furuu · 3 days
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‎𐔌 ᩧ ຼ ˳    It was late, and the house was quiet as you shifted uncomfortably in bed. The cramps had been gnawing at your abdomen all night, making it impossible to fall into a deep sleep. You tried not to move too much, not wanting to disturb Sukuna, who was resting beside you. He rarely seemed vulnerable, but in his sleep, his sharp features softened just enough to remind you that even the King of Curses needed rest.
But no matter how hard you tried to keep still, your body betrayed you. A small, pained groan escaped your lips as another wave of cramps tightened around your stomach, causing you to curl in on yourself. Sukuna’s body twitched beside you, and for a moment, you thought he was still asleep. Until you heard it—a low, rumbling growl from deep in his chest.
You froze. Was he... growling?
It took a few seconds before you realized what was happening. The faint scent of blood must’ve hit his heightened senses, and like a predator picking up on the tiniest shifts in the air, Sukuna was reacting to it. His brow furrowed slightly as he inhaled through his nose, the smell of your period filling his senses. He shifted in his sleep, instinctively moving closer to you, a territorial edge to the way his arm draped over your waist.
You could feel his fingers twitching against your skin as if unconsciously staking his claim. Another small growl escaped him, softer this time but no less possessive.
Suddenly, his eyes fluttered open, and you found yourself face-to-face with a very awake—and very intense—Sukuna. His crimson gaze locked onto yours, still hazy from sleep but filled with an unmistakable sense of protectiveness.
“You’re in pain,” he said gruffly, voice low and rough from sleep. “I can feel it.”
You opened your mouth to protest, your face flushing with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to wake you. It’s just… cramps. It’s nothing, really—”
His grip on you tightened just slightly, cutting off your sentence as he stared at you, his eyes narrowing in a way that left no room for argument. “Dumb girl,” he warned, as if what he said before was the most obvious thing in the world. His tone was matter-of-fact, yet there was an underlying possessiveness in the way he said it, as if it was something unbreakable. “I will keep you safe, as your king.”
You swallowed, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “Sukuna, it’s just—”
“I don’t care what it is,” he interrupted, his voice softening just a little, though the stubbornness was still there. “Your body is suffering, and I will ease your pain.”
You opened your mouth to argue again, but the intensity in his gaze left you speechless. He didn’t just want to help—you could tell he needed to, like some primal instinct had taken over. Just like how animals got protective and snuggly around women on their periods, Sukuna’s instincts were flaring up. You could see it in the way his muscles tensed, the way he hovered protectively over you, as if keeping you safe from something unseen.
You sighed, feeling your embarrassment wash away as you realized how serious he was. “It’s just… it’s a little embarrassing,” you admitted softly, looking down. “I don’t want to bother you.”
Sukuna let out a quiet snarl of irritation. “You’re my mate. You’ll never bother me.” He shifted, pulling you closer into his chest as his large hand splayed across your abdomen, the warmth of his palm immediately soothing against your aching muscles. “Let me take care of you.”
Despite the initial embarrassment, the heat of his body and the firm but gentle pressure of his hand on your stomach made you relax. The pain wasn’t as sharp with him so close, and the reassurance in his gravely voice eased some of the discomfort in your chest, too.
You snuggled into him, allowing yourself to rest against his tattooed chest. His growls quieted into a soft rumble, more like a contented purr now, as he nuzzled his face into your hair.
“I’ve got you,” Sukuna murmured, his voice a quiet, possessive promise. “You’re mine. No one gets to hurt you. Not even your own body.”
And even though it was still a little embarrassing, you felt safer than ever wrapped in his arms, knowing that he would always be there to protect you—even from something as simple as cramps.  ‿ ݂۫ ׄ ༊࿔
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kurooh · 2 days
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when choso first learns about what facesitting really is, he brings it up after a make out session that’s left you both hot and heavy. he’s tugging on your hand, practically begging you to take a seat.
“i-i’m not sure,” you stutter, unsure. “what if you suffocate or something? i don’t wanna hurt you..”
the look he gives you is one of pure need and longing. “i don’t care, just sit baby. please.”
for good measure, choso gives you a little pout, breaking into giggles and a smile once you slip your panties and shorts off. your thighs tremble as you hover above his face, eyes squeezing shut at the heat of his breath against your sticky cunt.
“mmm, that’s no good,” he remarks, large hands rising to your hips and settling lightly. “i told you, sit down.” choso’s strong, yanking you down hard onto his face; you feel and hear his muffled moan when your pussy’s all over his whole face.
“choso!”
“so, so fucking good,” choso gasps against you, holding your squirming body in place as his tongue laps and laps at your sticky cunt.
beneath you, his body’s sweltering with heat, racing through every nerve like electricity while tight pressure builds in his cock. with a glance over your shoulder, you notice his hips rutting into the air as he searches for friction.
“cho,” you sob, so overwhelmed you actually feel tears building in your eyes, “i-i wanna suck you off, ‘s not fair—”
he easily lifts you and peers up at you from between your thighs, face flushed and shining with your slick. with a shaky finger, you nudge some of his hair away from his forehead.
“don’t want you to,” it’s painful to say, because he really does, but that’s simply a distraction for the both of you. “baby,” he murmurs gently, “i want you to focus on cumming for me, ‘s all, okay?”
you nod quietly, and the gesture is met with a mild slap to your ass. “okay, cho,” the moment the words leave your bitten lips, he’s pulling you back down and greedily drinking all of you in, taking whatever he can get.
choso’s ministrations encourage you to roll your hips against his face; a light bump of his nose to your clit has you crying out and grinding all over him. that’s right, he thinks, stars in his closed eyes. he wishes he could tell you to use him to get off, but he’d have to lift you up and he doesn’t want to even breathe.
unconsciously, he matches your pace, his hips rising into the air in synchrony with your own. one of your hands slips into his silky hair and tugs; he’s your anchor, keeping you somewhat steady although he’s the reason you can’t stop shaking.
“choso,” you wail loudly, angling your hips to let him take your clit between his lips and suck, “oh, i’m so close, ‘m gonna cum soon—”
from between your thighs, choso sees everything: the parting of your lips, the way your face crumbles in absolute pleasure, the brief moment of stillness as you fully fall over the edge.
it’s too much and not enough, but he cums too.
“c-cumming, choso,” is all you can muster, riding out your orgasm on his face and tongue while his hips buck wildly into the air.
the muffled moan you feel deep in your cunt makes you gasp, pulling away at the feeling of overstimulation, but he’s holding you tight. a look over your shoulder at the right moment, and you watch as his clothed cock explodes, gushing cum and soaking his boxers.
after all your squirming and pulling away, choso finally lets you go with crescent moon indents in your plush skin and a loud huff.
“i wasn’t done,” he heaves, skin smeared with your cum. it’s glossy and messy, but he won’t think about washing it off until you’ve cum at least three more times.
“but you came and everything, i—”
choso silences you by sealing his lips against yours, and you can briefly taste yourself— sweet, just like he’s always said.
“a few more times, please?”
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