#Sound's like you're dying to meet me

[shotmrmiller]

Simon is enthralled by you, John Price's cat. Oh, how beautiful you look on all fours, rubbing your face on his jeans. How lovely the mews that spill from your lips sound— music to his ears.

He grabs you by the hips to lift you onto his lap, mindful of your tail and brushes his covered nose against your cheeks. "Aren't you just precious?" Simon lifts his mask enough to expose his lips and nips the tip of your human ear. "I wonder if this pretty kitten has a pretty pussy, too," he softly says. Your half-lidded eyes look at John, who's chosen to be just a spectator tonight.

"You heard him, kitten. Show Simon what he's asking for." The bell in your collar clinks as you lift to turn yourself around in his lap, and he grabs your waist with his large hands to assist. "Careful, I don't want you falling off and getting hurt." Simon extends his long, thick legs which gives you a bit more space to work with.

Keeping your knees together, you place your bare, dainty feet on each shoulder, and with a trembling exhale, your knees drop open.

Simon intakes a sharp breath through his teeth at the sight of your glistening cunt spread open— a flower in full bloom. The grip on your waist tightens to what should be considered pain, but to you is just acute pleasure.

"She's a fuckin' sight, sir," he admires without looking up. He drags a blazing trail with his fingers from your waist to your mons, pad of his thumb hovering over your swollen, slippery clit. "I'm curious, though, kitten," You look at him, cheeks flushed, and answer him with a tiny little mewl. "I'm curious if you'll purr for me, too," and draws agonizingly slow circles, that is exactly what you want, yet not enough. The whimpers slithering out of your throat make his cock achingly hard, and if you turned around, you'd see a sizeable tent in John's trousers too.

John's voice is thick with arousal as he says, "She likes it when you let saliva dribble from your mouth onto her pussy, isn't that right, kitten?"

You bob your head, mouth open, a bit of drool at the corner of your mouth. Simon's touch is magical. You've got liquid fire in your veins, every precise circle rubbed onto your nub tightens that coil in your lower stomach, and when he spits onto your pussy, the warm glob of spit that lands directly on your clit almost has you coming from it alone.

Simon notices how your hips start moving on their own, picking up speed, forcing more friction on your clit when he stops touching you, removing all stimulation. The keen you let out is primal, a high-pitched whine. "Oh, I know, I know," he coos at you, "I just gotta ask your owner for permission, s'all."

He tips his head to the side, looking over your shoulder, and nods. John must've agreed to whatever he's thinking because Simon's dark eyes gleam as they meet yours, a feral, toothy smile on his lips.

Simon taps your hips lightly and orders, "Hips up." Your feet lower from his shoulders to flatten on the couch— thighs spread wide from how broad, how wide his body is. Your hands rest on his knees behind you, and you rest your weight on them to lift up. Simon lets out a snarl and completely hooks your knees over his shoulders forcing your arms to give way. Your head lolls on his thighs, upper body almost completely upside down, and his hands cup your arsecheeks—mindful of the tail— and raise. What—

His warm, wet tongue licks through puffy lips, and flicks at your clit. The arousal that had waned comes back, and it comes back harder, faster, more intense. He's eating you like you're his last meal, and now you definitely sound like a cat, albeit a dying one.

Simon gives your bud a suck and your neck cranes back at the sensation, and that's how you see John, upside down, leaning back, one arm on the backrest holding his drink— the other stroking his cock through his trousers. He looks—

A sharp slap to your arse has your spine curling, legs tightening around Simon's half-covered face, stubble prickling into the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. "Eyes on me, kitten."

Your spine curves and you realize that you can see Simon, his dark eyes locked onto yours, and that he can see you. You wanted to care about the unflattering angle he's got you in, but it all melts away when his mouth opens wide to lick a stripe from your hole to your clit, and his lip is curled on one side, so you can see his unnecessarily pointy canine.

Once Simon realizes he's got your full attention, he eats. Unrelenting as he chases your climax like it was his own. The pulse of your heartbeat is deafening in your ears, your vision darkens as he forcibly drags you to your finish line, and with one final lap at your stiff bud, he tugs on your tail, and you burst.

Mind-numbing pleasure sweeps through your body, wave after wave of ecstasy crashing into you, prickling at your nerve endings, leaving you a shaky, slobbering mess on his thighs.

Simon doesn't even give you a moment, doesn't grant you reprieve because, within seconds, he's manhandling you and sinking you down onto his massive cock, spearing you in half, stretching your soaked channel to its absolute limit. It burns, it stings and yet the only thing that comes out of your mouth is an airy moan.

"Atta girl. Your pussy's suckin' me in like it wants to keep me in it forever," and his head tips back as he groans, "You're squeezing me so tight, m'not gonna last."

John's gruff voice comes from behind you, commanding. "Then don't, Simon. Fill her up."

Simon's answering smile is, honestly, a bit scary. He looks like the predator he becomes on the battlefield, the one who snuffs out life like a fire on a candle wick. Vicious, cruel, ruthless.

"Yes, sir."

He spreads his thighs, feet flat on the floor, and picks you up with his forearms, only to bring you back down on his cock. Impaling you. The tip of his cock is hitting so deep, you vaguely wonder if the flared head is being pinched by the tiny hole of your cervix. He's destroying you, but at no point in time does it ever turn into physical pain. Simon is using you like a pocket pussy, yet is angling your hips to hit your sweet spot. And oh so sweet it is, because it takes you exactly seven (7) thrusts of his hips to make you come around him, frothy, milky essence coating his cock.

"Fuckin' hell, pet. Fuckfuckfuckfu—" and he brings you down harshly, grinding his hips up, as he shoots rope after thick rope of cum into you.

Simon's exposed chin is dripping sweat, as he pants harshly in front of you, trying to catch his breath. Your body begins to slump tiredly when you feel your tail being caressed, beard scratching your neck as John peppers your damp neck with kisses.

"It's my turn now, isn't it." The bell on your collar chimes as John pulls you to kneel on the floor, face pressed in near Simon's softening member. Faintly, a zipper opens, and the swollen, long length of John's cock pushes into you, pushing out Simon's cum, dripping down your abused cunt to make space for him.

"Mewl for me, kitten," and grabs you by the hair, craning your neck to look up at Simon, who's gazing down at you with heavy-lidded eyes. He curls two fingers underneath your collar, restricting your breathing, and says, "Go on. Let us hear you."

what a delightful day to be John Price's cat

[taasgirl]

espresso - lando norris

summary: y/n is a famous singer who also happens to be a massive f1 fan. when she mentions a liking for a certain driver, it's only fate that he tries everything in his power to get her attention.

a/n: no face claim! the outcomes/order of races are altered to fit the story, it's just a fun time!!

liked by oliviarodrigo, oneruel, pedri, and 1, 376, 227 others ynusername my new interview with wired is out now!

user64973 Stop you're gorgeous

user89322 do i wanna be her or be with her??

user09384 so who r u crushing on huh

ynusername it's a seeeecret 🤫

user44172 This entire vid is so chaotic omfg

user03638 Please let y/n enter her wag era

liked by user55736, user89842, user73903, and 10, 652 others user33973 HELLO???? LANDO LITERALLY LIKED THIS TWEET I'M CRYING

user98301 brother personally knows who y/n's next bf should be

user40440 HAHA NO LITERALLY

user34593 God please let this be lando shooting his shot after watching y/n's recent interview

user43982 NO WAIT UR SO FR BECAUSE SHE LITERALLY MENTIONED LIKING AN F1 DRIVER WHAT IF IT'S HIM??

user12871 lando and y/n 🙏🙏

view ynusername's story...

liked by oscarpiastri, lorde, gavi, and 782, 774 others ynusername what a race! lovely to see you again @ oscarpiastri, maybe aim for a podium next time though?

oscarpiastri I'd like to see you try in a f1 car

user49949 Wait is oscar the guy y/n was talking abt in that vid? user53004 i hope not, i love him and lily

user20833 Okay so did y/n and lando interract or not? 😭

user61221 hot girls support mclaren (confirmed!) liked by ynusername

user89483 y/n slowly integrating herself in the f1 scene, we see u girl

liked by danielricciardo, logansargeant, ynusername, and 2, 459, 383 others landonorris A lot to learn from this weekend, but we keep pushing. Also great to meet a lot of new faces and the incredible fans🧡

user58273 SORRY WHAT THAT SECOND PHOTO...

user89894 is the new face y/n perhaps??

mclaren Great weekend Lando! liked by landonorris

user92702 I genuinely tweak whenever u post bc u look so fine

user53982 not y/n liking this post 😭

user66359 AND SHE DOESN'T EVEN FOLLOW HIM user98123 miss girl is stalking her crush i bet

user17263 please let this year be your year

user52209 Did anyone see his response to that post race interview?

user28732 YES AND HOW HE HAS HIS EYE ON SUM1

user87229 oh he trynna thirst trap (y/n) liked by landonorris

liked by lilyzneimer, oliviarodrigo, pedri, and 334, 938 others ynusername remember that one bitch ass ex I had? yeah well I wrote another song about him! 'feather' is yours now, but best enjoyed when you have an ugly, cheating, lying dick of an ex to think about. have fun with this one!! 😘

lilyzneimer STOP I'M ACTUALLY DYING I WAS NOT EXPECTING OSCAR OMG I CAN'T STOP LAUGHING liked by ynusername

user82983 i was like wow normal post! and then boom. oscar.

oscarpiastri Okay that seems a little mean

lilyzneimer already on repeat

oscarpiastri Um excuse me???? Did you read the caption...

user68297 NEW Y/N MUSIC YESYESYES

user26321 omfg i've been waiting for an angry y/n song

user72639 this sounds really familiar?? song of the summer maybe?

ynusername ahhhh thank you bb

view landonorris's story...

liked by user58273, user98004, user63874, and 10, 376 others user44938 Y/N papped in Monte Carlo today! Rumours are circulating that she was visiting F1's starboy Lando Norris, however there is no official confirmation.

user99812 ohhh y/n we see you

user89283 Okay everyone shut up abt lando, let's take a moment to appreciate y/n's beauty omf she's gorg

user23294 I SECOND THIS !!

user12834 hmm i wonder why she's in monaco...

user48463 Y/N u ain't slick 😭

user35273 she saw lando's story and ran straight to him

user16282 "how far u go for a sneaky link? I'd fly"

user52883 I know damn well she ain't in monaco for a holiday

liked by landonorris, gracieabrams, laufey, and 483, 995 others ynusername it's exactly like selena gomez's 2011 film

user73948 I KNOW LANDO'S HOODIE WHEN I SEE IT

user63762 ur the genuine it girl

lilyzneimer Monte Carlo reference, I love it liked by ynusername

user11928 landoooo

landonorris oooooo

user40948 oh hey lando user29830 Fancy seeing you here user73984 He wants her so bad

oscarpiastri I think I've seen that hoodie before

ynusername hmm i wonder where 🤷‍♀️

user49283 girl saw his story and flew out IMMEDIATELY

user53984 y/n l/n wag era loading 😏😏

user92874 So pretty

liked by oscarpiastri, ynusername, mclaren, and 3, 469, 848 others landonorris Calm before the storm #raceweek

charlesleclerc Good to see you with some company

user76483 CHARLES HASFGUEH

ynusername omg invite me next time

user42761 Girl bfr we know where u were at

user52739 THIS IS SO FUCKING CUTE

user19820 y/n and lando are a match made in heaven

user82637 I wonder who you were hanging out with 🤔

oscarpiastri Wow I feel like I've seen that girl before

ynusername me too

user61542 not lando soft launching y/n as if we don't know it's her

user82736 I mean technically we don't

user19823 @ user82736 No I think it is confirmed, she was heard on his twitch stream the other day

liked by landonorris, lilyzneimer, danielricciardo, and 1, 254, 982 others mclaren Our drivers and their partners after qualifying! Lando and Oscar will begin P4 and P5 respectively in Monte Carlo 🧡🤍

user82638 AND THEIR PARTNERS??? Y/N AND LANDO?

user52761 admin really said if they won't confirm it, I will liked by mclaren

user52839 Please lando and y/n are adorable

user82636 lily & oscar >>>

user48273 Sooooo they official...?

user27163 guys stop with this y/n x lando madness, i need a double mclaren podium

user82638 y/n really manifested her wag era huh

liked by ynusername, logansargeant, lilymunhe, and 3, 716, 372 others landonorris Monaco '24. Thank you to everyone who came out, and showed me support this weekend. I promise to be better next race. tagged: oscarpiastri & ynusername

ynusername my racer 🧡🏎️

user62538 HELLO? user82776 i'm gonna be sick

mclaren Papaya boys! liked by landonorris

user72538 Y/N is so beautiful I can't even

user16529 HIS EYES

user52863 him hard launching y/n >>>>

user98276 This is MY victoria and david

ynusername omg we're definitely not as cool as them

user41752 i won't get over this ever

liked by landonorris, phoebebridgers, mclaren, and 967, 837 others ynusername i think i need to buy more orange clothes

landonorris I've already offered up half my closet to her...

landonorris nice shirt though 😏

user62538 oh i'm living for their hard launch

lilyzneimer Welcome to the team!!

user22817 STOP THIS IS ADORABLE PLS WE NEED Y/N AND LILY CONTENT IMMEDIATELY

mclaren Our favourite pop star liked by ynusername 🌟

user52763 Y/N THE WAG YESSSSSS

oscarpiastri It's actually papaya

ynusername okay sassy man apocalypse lilyzneimer @ ynusername feed him to the zombies

liked by oliviarodrigo, landonorris, lilyzneimer, and 583, 872 others ynusername oh and btw, my new song espresso is out and it's a @ landonorris certified 'banger'. his words not mine. listen on all platforms now!!

landonorris She's working late cause she's a singerrr

ynusername haiii

user72637 y/n really walked in and said that she's the best lando ever had and ever will have

landonorris I mean it's true sooo

user62537 Okay lando I didn't know u had game like dat

lilyzneimer oh I love you

ynusername LILYYYYYYY i love u so much oscarpiastri I think our gfs are gfs... @ landonorris

view landonorris's story...

please let me know if you guys liked this! i love doing lando fics so much. as always, my reqs are open so feel free to drop suggestions!!

here’s a cute oscar smau i just wrote

[y2kuromi]

⭑ : 呪術廻戦 ❛ 𝗟𝗜𝗘𝗕𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗨𝗠𝗘 : satoru gojo x fem! reader

࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 synopsis: yuuji sees a completely different side of gojo-sensei !

contents: tooth rotting fluff w a dash of angst! established relationship (married), second person & told from yuuji’s pov. extremely whipped satoru! petnames, suggestive dialogue

summer isn’t over yet! collection, can be read as a stand-alone

yuuji was initially ecstatic about the prospect of living with gojo-sensei. he’d imagined lazing around, gorging on sweets and watching cartoons on tv — maybe a few training sessions squeezed in with gojo-sensei — ideally it would’ve been just the two of them.

his fantasies came crashing down when realised gojo-sensei’s “house” was actually a “home”. the walls in the foyer were riddled with picture frames. he felt like he was intruding on gojo-sensei’s personal life, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the pictures on the walls.

there was a woman beside gojo-sensei in most of the pictures. she had (e/c) eyes and (h/c) hair. a friend? or a girlfriend? — nah. according to fushiguro, gojo-sensei got zero play. though she had to mean something to him. it was evident in the way he looked at her.

his cerulean eyes entirely averted the camera lens, instead devoted to committing every inch of her to memory

“that’s my wife” gojo said softly,“she’s gorgeous isn’t she?” he laughed wryly as he stared lovingly at the smiling woman in the photo. yuuji nodded slowly, studying his teacher closely.

“is she okay with me hiding out here?” he asked tentatively, shoving his hands in the pockets of his hoodie.

“ahhh about that” gojo says sheepishly, “i haven’t had the time to mention it to her so you’ll have to wait here while i talk to her” he ran a hand through his hair, snowy white tendrils curling around his fingers.

classic gojo-sensei.

“oh” yuuji chuckled, the situation was amusing to him. he couldn’t wait to tell fushiguro — the sour reminder that he couldn’t had his laughter dying in his throat.

gojo-sensei shrugged off his shoes and patted yuuji’s shoulder, “don’t worry she’ll say yes , i’ve got her wrapped around my finger”

yuuji waited patiently in the foyer, amber eyes flickering over the expensive decor and woodsy frames of gojo-sensei’s family. he could faintly make out traces of your conversation

"oh? you're home early for once" you smiled, leaning into your husband as he placed a kiss on your forehead. "what's the special occasion 'toru?"

"do i need a reason to want to see my beautiful wife?”

“nope” you hummed, “‘m just surprised to see you” not that you were complaining. satoru was a busy man and you cherished the rare moments you spent alone together

“how was your day sweets?” he asked, taking your hand in his, his thumb stroked over knuckles, soft, loving.

“same old” you shrugged, “we’ve got some big case coming up next week, so i was pretty busy today. had a tonne of paperwork and meetings too"

"my busy bee" he smiles, "i missed you s'much, i hate going on these stupid business trips"

"you'd like them more if i came with you" you said teasingly, poking his rib with your free hand "i ran into kento the other day, you sure i shouldn't come back to jujutsu sorcery too?"

"nuh uh" he shook his head firmly, "stay at your law firm pretty, 'm gonna need someone to defend me when i kill all the higher ups"

"what have they done now?" you sigh exasperatedly, turning the knob on the gas cooker and reducing the heat. the faint clicking sound echoes in the kitchen as the orange-blue flames simmered quietly.

"what haven't they done" he grumbled, leaning against the counter. he gently tugged at his blindfold, lithe fingers unveiling the cerulean eyes that you loved so much. his snowy hair fell softly around his face, a curtain that failed to hide the anger he felt coursing through his veins.

"poor baby" you cooed, hands trailing up to his face and cupping his cheeks, your fingers smoothed over the frown etched on his face, pushing his lips together in a duck-lipped pout, "wanna tell me about it?"

"y'know yuuji? the new first year that's sukuna's vessel?"

you nod, allowing your hands to fall from his face and rest on the counter. his greedy hands make their way to your waist, rubbing circles on the soft flesh peeking out beneath your untucked dress shirt.

"well they sent the first years on a mission to rescue people from the detention center, after sending me on that stupid mission overseas mind you, and the kid had to fight a special grade curse"

"is he okay?" you ask, hands ghosting over satoru's bigger, veiny ones. he sighs, a look of mild irritation fleeting over his face at the memory. in retrospect, none of that mattered now. he was home.

"yeah he's fine" he shrugs, "sukuna ripped his heart out and he died, but he revived him eventually"

"your definition of fine is questionable satoru" you snicker, and he feels his heart melting at the sound of your laughter. "why'd they send them on that mission anyways?"

"they just want yuuji dead, he was supposed to be executed remember? and they're really scared of sukuna which is crazy 'cause he's kinda weak"

"someone needs to humble you" you say, amusement dripping from your words like honey, "pride comes before fall 'toru"

"you humble me all the time sweets" he grins, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead.

"i'm just doing the universe a favour" you tease, "what do you want for dinner? rice? noodles? or we could order food from that thai joint you like if you want”

"i'll eat anything you cook sweets,” he murmurs, “though i have something else i wouldn’t mind eating”

“satoru” you gasped, “you just got home and you’re already trying to get between my legs” you smack his shoulder playfully

“i’ve missed her too” he shrugs, “i’ve missed all of you”

you shook your head, “can’t believe i married such a feen” a languid smile tugs at the corners of your lips. you could try all you wanted to resist his charms, but he’d always win in the end

"so...about yuuji" satoru starts, testing the waters, "the higher ups really want him gone, i can't keep him at jujutsu tech right now"

"i can see why you wouldn't" you hum, leaning on the tips of your toes to reach for the salt. satoru had a habit of placing the things you needed in places you couldn't reach just so he could have the honour of retrieving them for you

“need help with that sweets?” he asks eagerly, pushing himself off the counter and sifting through the wooden shelves. he easily brings the jar of salt down and hands it to you

"you have to stop doing this, it’s such an inconvenience" you sighed, but you were grateful nonetheless.“you’re insufferable i swear”

“‘m still yours” he says suavely. satoru’s smile is unwavering though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

you can tell the thing with yuuji is weighing heavily on his mind. he’s more restless than usual. his lithe fingers run up and down the counter as he stares into space

“‘toru?” you prompt, nudging him with your elbow, “i can hear you thinking”

“i don’t know where to keep him” he exhales, “i would ask shoko, or kento but then i’d risk getting them in trouble with the higher ups”

“what about the secret room we found in our third year?” you asked, “you could keep him there, unless they found out about it”

“i would keep him there.. but i just...don't want him to feel alone," he says softly. you didn’t think it was possible to fall even deeper in love with satoru, but he never failed to surprise you. “he's just a kid, so i— i want to look out for him.”

he knows it’s a big ask. you can hear the gears turning in his head as he figures out how to possibly convince you to let sukuna’s vessel stay in your home.

"can he stay?" he pleads, "can yuuji stay with us please? it’s only until the kyoto goodwill event" he's clasping his hands together, imploring you with his infinitely blue eyes. you raise an eyebrow. knowing satoru, yuuji was probably waiting around in the foyer

"he's already here isn't he?" you ask, shaking your head fondly as a guilty look flickers across his face. classic satoru. although you would've loved for him to give you a heads up, you didn't mind a bit. it would be nice to have some company when satoru went on his missions

 “i didn’t really have time to plan all the details before bringing him with me” he says, sheepishly rubbing a hand behind his neck, his fingers brushed against the soft strands of his undercut, "are you mad? don't be mad baby"

"no" you laugh, "i'm not mad 'toru, he can stay"

it’s the little things like this that make you realise just how much power you have over him. within seconds your husband is whirling you around, hands gripping your waist tightly and pressing chaste kisses on your face as he sets you down

"yuuji she said you can stay" a wide grin blooms across his face as he bounds into the foyer excitedly. the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, reduced to the faint resemblance of a child getting their first sleepover approved

you set the jar of salt down on the marbled counter. trailing after your husband. true to your suspicions, yuuji itadori had been standing awkwardly, twiddling his thumbs together in his hoodie pockets and silently taking in the intricacies of your home.

he couldn’t help but feel out of place.

there were pairs of everything — shoes neatly arranged on the coat rack. umbrellas tucked in a corner in the foyer. coats hung up next to each other on the wall.

the pale blue wallpaper hung row after row of framed photographs. their wooden mahogany panels reflected the warm lights. yuuji’s light brown eyes flickered on the pictures in all their glory and glossy sheen.

the ones that caught his eye captured a young fushiguro’s trademark scowl, the irritated quirk of his brow and the curled spikes of his hair that defied gravity.

he was standing beside a girl who looked just like him, except she was slightly taller with long bone-straight brown hair. yuuji’s eyes lingered on her smile as your beanstalk of a husband shook him excitedly

he wondered what fushiguro would say if he knew he’d seen pictures of him as a little kid. ( he’d probably summon his shikigami on him )

“really?” he beamed, eyes momentarily drawn away from the plethora of frames. you feel your heart melt into a sickly sweet puddle of happiness and warmth, as you watch satoru drape his arm over yuuji’s shoulder

“yes really” you laugh, “it’s nice to finally meet you yuuji, you’re a friend of megumi’s right?”

yuuji nods frantically, his mop of pink curls bouncing enthusiastically . his mannerisms were nervous and eager. he wanted to fit in. he wanted you to like him. you could tell — he reminded you oddly of your husband ( they were practically the same person in different fonts )

“speaking of megumi, he doesn’t know yuuji’s alive so please don’t let it slip when he calls you” satoru murmurs, taking slow steps towards you.

he knows he’s asking for too much now. you practically raised megumi and it would be nearly impossible for you to keep something like this from him. satoru can see the cogs spinning in your head, the subtle anger in your heart and for the first time in years he’s afraid.

“we’ll talk about this later” you say through gritted teeth. he pleads silently with his eyes and you swallow your protests, you exhale loudly before turning towards yuuji again “c’mon yuuji, i’ve just started on dinner”

yuuji kicks off his shoes and nudges them neatly beneath the shoe rack before padding after you. satoru isn’t far behind

“it smells really good mrs. gojo” yuuji says politely, as he takes a seat by the kitchen island, legs dangling as he drums on the smooth marbled counter.

“thank you yuuji” you beamed, “do you prefer rice or noodles?”

“ahh i’m not really picky” he says, “i like all kinds of food really, but i suppose rice? if it isn’t too much of a hassle, i really don’t want to be a bother-”

“slow down yuuji” you said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder, “i’m really glad to have you here, it gets kinda lonely when ‘toru’s away on business trips so make yourself at home okay?”

no wonder gojo-sensei was always happy, his wife was an angel. yuuji thought as he nodded fervently

“i can make the rice baby” satoru offers, his hands make their way around your waist, he doesn’t miss the way you stiffen under his touch. you’re mad at him, and he knows you have every right to be

“thank you” you said, putting as much feeling into the words as you could muster, “come with me yuuji, i’ll show you around”

yuuji was positive he was intruding now, standing in the middle of megumi’s room while you stripped navy blue pinstripe sheets off his bed and replaced them with canary dressings.

“are you sure i can sleep here?” he asks, “ i don’t mind taking the couch..”

you seemed horrified at the idea of yuuji sleeping alone on the couch. he still hadn’t come to terms with the fact that you actually wanted him here. he was so used to being unwanted

growing up with his grandpa was something he wouldn’t trade for the world, yet he’d always craved the warmth of a mother. a mother’s love was the purest, and there was nothing more blameless than the softness in your (e/c) eyes when you looked at him

“i mind yuuji” you frowned” and i want you to stay in gumi’s room, his clothes should fit you since you’re around the same height”

“thank you again for letting me crash here” yuuji didn’t think he could say it enough. he didn’t deserve such kindness, not when the king of curses lived rent free in his head

“don’t mention it yuuji” you said, “i meant what i said downstairs, i could really use the company”

you ruffled his hair softly before resuming your ministrations of making the bed. you tucked crisp sheets beneath the mattress and fluffed up pillows with ease.

“you’re a really good mom, why don’t you and gojo-sensei have any kids of your own?” yuuji only realises the question is slightly insensitive after the words hang in the air and an unreadable look fleets across your face, “i’m so sorry that was really rude of me-”

“you’re good yuuji” you laugh, you sit down on the freshly laid duvet and pat the space beside you. yuuji hesitates but he sits down eventually

“it just never happened y’know? we adopted tsu and gumi a few years back, plus toru’s always seen his students as his kids, he cares about you guys a lot”

“even me?” it doesn’t seem plausible to him. all he’s seemed to do is cause problems for gojo-sensei ever since he ate that gross finger

“especially you yuuji” you smiled, ruffling his hair, “you remind me of him funny enough, even though i used to hate him back in our school days”

“really?” he gawked, he was practically falling over megumi’s bed with anticipation.

“really” you affirmed , “he was a real piece of work back then, i bet he’s the reason yaga has so many grey hairs”

“how’d you fall in love with him then?” yuuji enquires, brown eyes sparkling with immense curiosity “and how’d you meet?”

“are you guys gossiping about me?” satoru gasps, peeking around the doorway, “how mean of you yuuji, i thought we were friends”

“ahhh we weren’t gossiping per-say, mrs. gojo was about to tell me how you met”

“can i tell him?” satoru’s eyes sparkle, “the way i remember it i walked into the common room and cherry blossoms started falling, classical piano was playing softly in the background and-”

“that didn’t happen” you said, “he’s finally going senile” you tried and failed to push satoru out the doorway but he stood his ground.

he stood almost toe to toe with you, a pleased grin blooming on his face as he towered over you. yuuji’s eye’s flickered between you and your husband, cheeks dusted a rosy pink as he stifled giggles

“it did happen!” satoru insisted, “i’m sure shoko has a recording of it somewhere, now as i was saying.. she took one look at me and fell head over heels in love”

“you’re deluded” you muttered, “i didn’t love you until our second year, get your facts right”

“so you did fall head over heels in love with me” he grinned, “so early too? i knew you couldn’t resist my charms — owww!”

satoru feigns as you finally manage to shove him out the door after hitting his shoulder. by now, yuuji is a spluttering mess on the soft tatami mats lining megumi’s floor

“i’ll tell you what really happened one of these days” you said over your shoulder, “you can shower and settle in, take as long as you need, we’ll wait for you to come downstairs before we start eating”

your smile falls the moment the door clicks shut behind you. satoru feels his heart shattering. he’s so sure he’s going to die because his wife is mad at him. the universe might as well combust into nothing but ashes

“baby-” satoru starts, catching your wrist in his palm. he grips the bone loosely, careful not to hurt you “‘m sorry, you know that, but megumi can’t know”

you trudge down the stairs in silence, opting only to speak when you’re seated beside satoru in the living room. your cat natsu watches you wearily from her cat post, slanted eyes shooting satoru a well meaning glare.

“you can’t ask me to keep this from him” you said, shaking your head, eyes looking everywhere but your husband’s piercing blue gaze. “you’re taking things too far now”

“i know” his voice is a mere whisper, the words barely speak themself into existence, “i’m being selfish again, but you’ve gotta understand (y/n)”

“i can’t” you splutter, you feel tears treading your waterline “put yourself in his shoes, c’mon satoru we’ve seen him at his worst, why would we do something that could hurt him?”

“i’m not doing this to hurt megumi, i’m doing this to protect yuuji”

“just think about it please” you frowned, “if instead of executing suguru they kept him alive and let us think he was dead, you’d never forgive them”

he doesn’t miss the way your voice catches over the three syllables. he doesn’t miss the way your fingers tremble against his forearm. he hates this — arguing with you, he could think of infinite things he’d rather do than this.

“that’s different” his voice is wavering now, “suguru made his choice, yuuji didn’t ask for any of this” he winces as the words fall from his lips. to think he’d stooped to speaking ill of the dead. he doesn’t believe that, not really.

“you still wouldn’t forgive them” you prompted, “and i don’t want ‘gumi to go through any more, tsumiki being in a coma is hard enough as it is”

“i know baby, i know” satoru says softly, he cups your trembling face in his hands and places the sweetest of kisses on the tears that threaten to stream down your cheeks, “trust me on this okay? he’ll be fine i promise”

“okay” you nod, letting your husband, your one and only, wipe away the tears spilling over your lashes.

satoru could really kill the higher ups for putting him in this position. one where he nearly sacrificed his wife’s happiness for something as insignificant as jujutsu sorcery. with his lips still pressed to the corners of yours, he makes a silent vow with himself

it would be you before everything. it was you before everything

“you’re so beautiful” he whispers, his thumb grazing your bottom lip “you. are. everything. to. me” he punctuates each word with a kiss. his lips committing every inch of you to memory

they ghost over your cheek, your quivering lip, your shoulder, your wrist, and finally the silver wedding band encasing your ring finger. and they linger on the cool silver for what seems to be eternity before satoru speaks up again

“dance with me?” he prompts, although he’s not really asking. he’s already whisking you onto your feet and starting up the record player. the vinyl spins on its axis, as constant as his infinite love for you.

“what?” you sniffed slightly, “like we did in our first year?”

“like we did in our first year”

satoru’s hands were on your hip, drawing you closer, he felt your chest brush against his for a second as he leaned into you. you swayed gently side to side, keeping in time with the intricate melodies streaming from the gramophone

his six eyes tell him his student is watching, listening. curious doe eyes peeking from the stairwell. he doesn’t mind. satoru had never been one to hide his affection. you were his. and he was infinitely yours.

“can i tell you a secret?” satoru murmurs, as he twirls you back into his arms. he wishes he could stay like this forever. with you. he’d selfishly sacrifice the universe to keep having moments like this. he would kill for you. he’s positive he would. he’d do it without hesitation.

“i thought we didn’t have any of those” you quipped. satoru feels his heart melting. watching the sadness in your eyes fade into utter bliss was like watching the sun come out after a rainy day. maybe even better.

“it’s a good one i promise” he grins, you raise a brow sceptically but you’re listening “i was the one who fell head over heels in love with you. way back in our first year…and i didn’t even know what love was, i was so confused”

“when did you know?” you asked, “you always say you knew the moment you saw me, but you were an asshole then”

“it was the first time we snuck out together” he admits, “when we went to that night market. you were right, i was jealous of suguru but could you blame me? i wanted you all to myself”

“you’ve always been so greedy” you giggled. satoru doesn’t need the six eyes to see that you love him regardless. it’s evident in the tenderness of your tone and the way your (e/c) sparkle when you look at him

“cut me some slack baby” he groans “i’m trying to be romantic”

“you don’t need to try, i heard through the grapevine i can’t resist your charms” you hummed

satoru cracks a smile at the inside joke, a slow symphony of contentment.he kisses you again and it’s sweet and full of blind adoration. loving you is his religion. the only thing he’s wholly committed to. your hands looped around his neck, carefully avoiding the ever-so-sensitive scar that ran beneath his chin

your hands founds repose in the soft strands of his hair, carefully threading through the ivory curls. satoru could feel himself melting into you, he clung to you as if he was scared to let go and his calloused hands clutched at the warmth that radiated from your skin. he was so impossibly close you could feel his eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks.

yuuji peered at the scene with stars in his eyes. he knew he should look away. that this moment was sacred, strictly for the two of you. but he’d never seen gojo like this before — completely vulnerable, completely himself in the confines of your embrace.

here he wasn’t the strongest, the richest, the one-man clan, the one whose mere existence shifted the balance of the world. here, he wasn't satoru gojo, he wasn't gojo-sensei, he was just 'toru.

© Y2KUROMI 2024. please do not plagiarise, repost, or translate any of my works on here or any other websites.

[cu7ie]

ა˚₊﹕take your time. ⊹

cw: virgin reader, gn!reader, don't even ask me what dimension this miguel is from. miguel being a good partner, unintentional teasing, reader is just shy! an: first miguel fic! woo!!! totally dedicated to @buttress atp

You still can't look at him.

-

You've been dating Miguel for months at this point. You're not moved in together (yet), but see each other as often as possible, spending nights in his apartment, folded under his arm and leg tucked between his.

He's very familiar with you, perhaps more so than you are him. Knows what you look like when you're positively elated, seen those so hard smiles that afterward you're complaining your cheeks hurt. 

He's seen utter devastation, too. You'd mourned the loss of your dear departed cat in his arms, sobbing and snotty and cloyingly tender. Must've cried all the water out of your body that day, soaked the whole front of his shirt (the one time he chose to wear white) before dying off into the most pitiful whine. You'd grown too small to support yourself.

So he helped.  Reassured you gently with the strokes of his hand along your back, getting you water, making sure you ate, spending the night at your house …

And you two have been dating for a while now. You've seen his highs and lows too.

Hardly this kind of low though. 

-

He's seen you naked before. Not enough for this lifetime, but definitely on more than one occasion. 

You're still so bashful.

When he joins you in the shower you can barely meet his eye, washing the front of his chest tentatively while he gently massages shampoo into your hair.

You get flustered when he catches you changing, covering your chest with your shorts and risking a friction burn with how fast you force your jeans past your thighs. 

Your affections usually stop at kissing. It's clear to him you're interested, but you always seem unsure to start. You're a little self conscious, nervous about the space between you two - and right when it starts feeling better than just good, you pull away. 

It's kind of like edging, bordering on torture, but Miguel knows how to be patient. 

Eventually, you come back to him.

-

Before he found himself two fingers deep in you, you had ask him to fuck you once before. 

Almost verbatim.

"Fuck me."

and, regardless of the fact that his cock jumps a little as you whisper it so close to his lips, 

It sounds so strange falling from your lips like that. Abrupt and sudden like a clap of thunder in the dead of night, and his eyebrows shoot up - as quick as residual lightning.

Maybe the look on his face was what faltered you. The way his pupils constrict then dilate like he's really looking at you, into your depth, and probing for your intention with a breathy, "You sure?" 

And you nod, a little slow.

"Y-yeah. Certain."  Miguel arches his brow skeptically, lips quirking into a half-smirk as he turns his body to face you, his head leaning to the side as he looks you up and down slow enough to make you second guess. "Of course, Cariño - as you wish." And admittedly he's a little cruel, enjoys the way you curl in on yourself, imagines the heat burrowing into the apples of your cheeks, watching your breath catch in your chest as you stare him down. The moment lingers.

"Show me then."  He props his arm onto the couch as his posture relaxes, his expression no greater than his polite smile, which still feels goading, in a way. "Show me how badly you want me to fuck you." 

He knows right away you got a little too facey. You're a shih tzu glaring down a rottweiler and you've forgotten how to bark. It always gets caught up in you, desire tangled up in a net of worry, doubt. Can see it in your eyes, the way your lip dips down before you tuck it beneath a tooth, the aura of your gaze becoming more shadowed, more sensual.

"I'll… I'll show you."

"Mhm. 'Course you will." 

Your finger hops up a little. You don't know where to put your hands so his thighs serve as a placeholder as you push yourself into his lap, the supple flesh of your lips meeting his, and,

 ooh, his chapstick is lemon flavored.

Your kiss is so dear to him. It's dainty, lightens his heart because you're too shy for tongue kisses at first. 

Or maybe you just don't know how. Still,

You slowly build yourself up to it that night.

Cautiously, your mouth parts a little more, ushered into a new sensation as your tongue maps out the roof of his mouth, the ridges of his teeth, slowly feeling him rise to the occasion, raising your chin and humming pleasantly into your mouth. Your eyes fluttered shut, your arms coming up to wrap around the back of a pleasantly surprised Miguel's neck, and he moves to settle you in his lap.

Miguel's skin feels smooth to the touch.

He’s moved you to the bedroom, urged you to wrap your legs around his hips as he took the liberty of digging his fingers into your soft ass, irritatingly thin shorts keeping him from getting to feel you for real. You're convincing him well enough so far, your skin rippling hot wrought iron left in the sun, and the burn on his skin is delicious - so when he's ready to eat,

When he's spreading you out on the bed and has your shorts around your thighs,

He notices you're not looking. Your breaths are shaky and fast, eyes welded shut, cheek turned and smushing into your pillow. You're still apart from the light tremble in your thighs, your legs dangling over the side of the bed as he adjusts his position on his knees, face partially curtained by your thighs as his arms curl up under them to tug your sex closer to his waiting lips.

"Ay." He gives your leg a healthy shake, jolting you out of your stupor. "Still want me to fuck you?" There's amusement bleeding into him again, but his eye is measured, patient. You blink an eye open, look down at him, his head between your legs,

The predatory, slow lick of his lips makes your hair stand on end, and you buck up, propping yourself up on shaky elbows. “Miguel…” 

“Hm?” He breathes so close to you that blood doesn’t know where to rush, to your head or between your legs. The dull throb of arousal that lances through you excites and terrifies, a nervous whine wheedling its way from between your lips, makes MIguel stop again. He feels your knees shake a little, still only one eye open. 

On the inside, budding frustration. There are two wolves - the desire to be cool, calm, and reassuring clashes with its twin, the overwhelming desire to have what he wants and do as he pleases. He sighs, and represses the second urge.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want.” 

“Really?” 

“Yes, really.” You breathe in good for once, a relieved sigh as he pulls your underwear back up and pats your thigh, maintaining a pleasant expression while on the inside the mourns what should have been, imagines the feeling of you stretched around his cock - the tightness of your warmth, fucking in and out of you and hearing you squeal as he rolls his hips, adjusts his pace.

Tucks his fantasy away till it's only remnant is the hard-on he's trying to will away as you beckon him to join you under the sheets.

But he’s patient above all. Joins you on the bed and holds you close, burrowing his head into your shoulder as your wrap your arms around his back, 

And he leaves it alone.

-

'Could blue balls kill a man?'

He's not proud of his Google search history -

But it's been a couple weeks since he managed to get that far with you, and his hand hasn't been cutting it for a while now. And Miguel can sure as hell pretend he's not feeling as carnal as he is - that the chip on his shoulder is his increasing responsibility at Alchemax, the diminishing of his free time, lack of sleep …

But he feels no rage more potent than after he's came into his hand for the 5th time in two days, holding a shirt or a pair of your underwear up to his nose and huffing like it's paint. He's never been a junkie, but sometimes he's shaking he's so mad, that there's not more of you, enough of you, none of the soft, real parts of you.

And it's not your fault. You'll be ready when you're ready, and he just has to accept he might not make it to see that day.

But fast forward to right before bed that night. Yellow lampshade that turns the warm light dim, moonlight pressing through murky clouds and filtering into the window above the bed you two share. 

You still take showers together, but now you linger behind to wash properly while he settles into his normal routine, playing with his balls and turning his head into your pillow. 

He sighs to the sound of the creaking door, dripping water falling softly to the floor as you, towel wrapped around your naked body, step closer toward the bed.

You move from the front of the room, to the foot of the bed, til you're hovering over his side of the bed, this look in your eye like you've made up your mind about something. "What?" He flicks his head up, drowsy but not yet asleep.

"I think m'ready." Miguel blinks the tired out of his eyes and looks up, confused.

"What? Whaddaya mean you're ready?" 

"I mean," the towel falls, and he sees your bare body - your skin still dewy from your shower, glistening in the light. "I'm ready to fuck you. For real this time."

"Oh? So you're fucking me now?" He sizes you up a second, before you're crawling over him, straddling his hips as your bare intimates are flush against his groin, your butt pressing softly into his cock as he gets a half chub, not wanting to fully commit yet, but you're not letting up …

And that's how he got here. Two crooked fingers deep, up to the second knuckle, scissoring your hole open and hearing all these new noises - ones he's never had the chance to hear until now. You're accepting of his touch, but seem unwilling to fully express how bad he's got you - your wrist folded over your mouth, every moan sludging itself in your throat because you won't let it be free. You won't let him hear it.

Your back’s on the bed and he’s laying on his side next to you, over top of you, and he has the perfect view of your cute face and ditzy expression, your eyes pinched shut as you mutter something behind your hand, cut short as he curves his finger inside. “Miguel!”

“What is it querido? I’m a little busy here…”  Two fingers deep and you’re not as resistant as he’s expecting, so he feeds you a third promptly and it does not go unmissed how you clamp down on him tighter, your shuddering groan so lewd it almost beats the rational thought of preparing you out of his head. 

The only thing keeping him from mounting you then and there is your inexperience. Laid bare for him in this moment, he rubs his erection against your side brazenly, distinctly unashamed with letting you know how badly he wants you.

“Have you been touching yourself, carino? You’ve been preparing yourself for me?” You inhale shakily, and Miguel slows his pace so you don't have an excuse, any reason to not answer. You're so adorable when you're embarrassed. A little wetness in your eye, and usually you get all pouty like you might cry,

But he's doing something alien to you, pressing up into your sensitive walls, eliciting a brand new reaction he's sure he quite likes. 

You sniffle and answer slow. "A little… I was j-just practicing!" Your voice pitches up again, and instead of making his way further in, or adding a fourth finger, he stops. 

So abruptly you whine, arch your back in irritation and only then do you look at him, see the shadows that have settled over his face,

and isn't he feeling a might slick, having reduced you to jerking limbs and whimpering and moaning in what felt like a few minutes, though he doesn't have it in him to feel smug. 

Just hungry. 

"...Miguel." Barely a whisper. Only because it's you does he hear it. "Be gentle with me, please."

"Yeah." The single syllable is drawn out, curving into a growl, husky and deep unlike any noise a man ought to make.  "Right. Gentle."

[daddy-dotcom]

Bang My Line

Summary: You're Penelope Garcia's first intern, and you learn a lot more from her than just her technical skills.

Rating: M

Words:4, 357

Warnings: Fluff, typical canon violence mentions, smut ;)

*reblogs or comments r much appreciated*

Read my newest fic Scents and Sensibility out now 🤭

_____________________________________________

The first day was a blur. It was scary enough to completely change career paths, but working for the FBI was an entirely different beast. Between what seemed like hundreds of background checks and interviews, I finally made it to my first day. Granted, I would just be an intern for now, but hopefully this would lead to a permanent position as a technical analyst. I waited in the lobby for Penelope Garcia, the woman who would be my mentor for the duration of my time with the BAU. We had spoken over the phone and even texted back and forth a bit, but this would be my first time meeting in person.

“There she is! My shiny new intern.”

“Hi you must be Agent Garcia,” I replied with my arm outstretched. She took it and gave what was the most enthusiastic hand shake I’ve ever seen.

“Oh honey, I’m way too fun for you to call me agent. Call me Penelope.” I shook my head in agreement and she led me towards the elevator.

“I know I gave you a rundown of the team via our text messages, but be prepared for them to ask you a million questions. You’re my first ever intern and they’re dying to meet the newest member of the team.”

“Duly noted, just know I’m going to be doing the same to you Penn because I’m a little out of my element here.”

“hmm Penn, I like the sound of that.”

As the elevator doors opened, I could see the rest of the team gathered around a desk, too focused on their own conversation to notice me and Penelope.

“Everyone, please welcome my first and only intern (Y/N).”

The man in the crisp black suit stood up first to greet me and introduced himself as Agent Aaron Hotchner.

“Penelope has not shut up about her new intern so it’s nice to finally put a pretty face to the name. I’m SSA Derek Morgan.”

I let out a bashful chuckle as I shook Morgan’s hand. Penelope did warn me that he could be a bit of a flirt. I was then greeted by a blonde woman who goes by JJ and an older man named Agent Rossi.

“Don’t tell me you write in pink sparkly gel pen too?” he jokingly asked.

I smiled and shook my head no, before being greeted by Agent Emily Prentiss.

“Don’t mind Rossi, it’s always nice to have another woman on the team to keep these boys in check.”

She gestured towards Morgan and the other agent beside her, who I can only assume is none other than Dr. Spencer Reid.

Penelope had described him as quote “Steven Hawking trapped in a young Bill Nye’s body.” What I didn’t expect was for him to actually be attractive. Sure, Agent Morgan and even Agent Hotchner were easy on the eyes, but Spencer Reid was strikingly handsome in the most unassuming way. The soft golden waves that covered the top of his head combined with those puppy dog eyes were enough to remind me how nervous I was to be joining the team.

“Nice to meet you (Y/N)” he said as he took my hand. My palms were beginning to sweat, but the steadiness of his firm grasp eased my nerves.

“Likewise,” was all I could manage to say. He held my gaze for what felt like both a moment and an eternity, before releasing my hand.

“Well, (Y/N), let’s get you briefed on your first case,” said Penelope.

I followed Penelope into the briefing room and decided to sit in the seat closest to the screen so that I could take notes on her presentation. To my surprise, Spencer took the seat next to me. As if I wasn't already a nervous wreck, his close proximity to me was going to make my writing even more illegible than usual. Still, I could get used to sitting next to the most handsome member of the team.

As Penelope wrapped up her presentation and the rest of the team departed on the jet, the bubbly blonde gave me a little tour of her office. Rossi wasn't joking about Penelope's love of glitter gel pens, and her desk was adorned with unicorn paperweights and mermaid statues.

"This is your workspace over here, (Y/N), although you'll mostly be assisting me for the first couple of weeks. Feel free to decorate your desk with as many unicorns as you please," she said.

The first hour or so of work was mostly getting situated in my new workspace, but we soon got our first call from the team, and it was from the man himself, Derek Morgan. Penelope pressed the button to answer the phone and his voice immediately came through the speaker for both of us to hear.

"It's your babygirl and her babygirl in training, what do ya need hot stuff?" said Penelope.

"Hey mama, I need you to look into Walter Price's bank activity for the last few months, see if there were any suspicious withdrawals or transfers."

"Anything for you gorgeous"

"Thanks babygirl, I'll be expecting your call back soon."

I sat with my mouth slightly ajar, looking over at Penelope dumbfounded.

"Do you talk to everyone on the phone that way?" you asked.

"Nope, just my sweet lover Derek Morgan."

I paused for a second before asking my follow up question, "so are you two like...in a relationship?"

"Only in my dreams," Penelope said with a wink. I let out a laugh because this whole situation surprisingly made me more at ease in my new job.

"As your intern, I guess it's my job to learn how to answer the phone like you?" I said with a wicked smile.

"Oh no my dear, at least, not yet. We've got a long way to go before you get to my level. And of course you'll have to find your own gorgeous man to talk dirty to, Morgan is already taken."

That definitely wouldn't be a problem, I already had the most gorgeous man on the team in mind.

I spent the next few weeks listening in on Penelope's phone calls and looking up information for her. I even got to help her present a new case to the team. After my first week, the team took me out to celebrate surviving my first case with the BAU. Even though I had become more comfortable around everyone on the team, I couldn't shake the butterflies Reid gave me whenever we interacted. However, I did notice that I was much more confident over the phone than in person. I tried to conceal my blossoming crush on Spencer as best I could, but I couldn't help but be the slightest bit sweeter to him whenever he was the one who called us.

During my second month of internship, we had a particularly hard time tracking down an unsub. Penelope was getting way too many names and she called Spencer to help her narrow down the list.

"There were traces of chlorine and calcium hypochlorite on the body which are chemicals commonly used in pool maintenance, Garcia narrow it down to men over 40 in the area who own pools or work in pool maintenance," he said.

"One name! It's Michael Dunlop, he works as a freelance pool maintenance man and, ooh get this, he hasn't responded to any jobs since the first murder on June 11th."

"Sending the address to your phones right now!" I interjected.

"Thanks (Y/N),"

"Anything for you, cutie" I said, with a sudden burst of confidence.

As I hung up with a satisfied look on my face, Penelope glanced over at me looking smug as ever.

"Cutie huh? That's a new one," Penelope said, "I knew I'd rub off on you sooner or later." And she was right. I started incorporating more color into my work wardrobe and I even brought my tiny stuffed cow to sit at my desk.

"You said I had to find my own gorgeous man to flirt with on the phone...so I did."

"I knew it! You have a crush on our genius boy-wonder!" She was positively giddy just by the thought of it. "I mean he's always sitting next to you and looking over at you when he thinks no one is noticing. You would think in a room full of profilers that I wouldn't be the only one to notice, and yet here we are."

It never occurred to me that my little crush might actually be reciprocated. Spencer was always a bit socially awkward, so I just assumed that he was the same way with me. I never once thought that he was actually as nervous to talk to me as I was to him. This fact somehow boosted my confidence even more, and I decided to have some fun with Spencer over the phone.

---------------------------------------------------------

"Cutie huh?" Morgan asked the blushing boy. Spencer was used to Penelope teasing him, but this was different. He had been harboring a small crush on their newest intern for the past month, and when she flirted with him over speakerphone for Morgan, of all people, to hear, Spencer couldn't help but turn as red as a tomato.

Of course, being a profiler, Morgan took notice of Reid's crimson cheeks. "Call me crazy but I think she likes you, pretty boy."

"O-of course not, she's just copying the way Garcia talks to you," Spencer stuttered.

"That may be true, the only difference is that you have a little crush yourself."

Spencer didn't bother trying to lie since he knew Morgan would see right through him, so he just mumbled something about Prentiss and Hotch needing them at the location (Y/N) sent.

---------------------------------------------------------

It was a lot easier to flirt with Spencer when he wasn't physically in front of me. When we were in the office together, we'd shoot each other smiles from across the room or he'd bring me an extra coffee in the morning. But when he was out in the field and I was back at my desk at the BAU, it was a whole different game. I tried my hardest to make him blush over the phone any chance I got, and it seemed to be working. After Penelope found out about my little crush, she decided to play matchmaker and slip Spencer my work phone number to call me instead for information. For the first time, I heard my phone ring instead of Penelope's and I immediately answered.

“Give it to me good baby, what do you need from me?” I replied. I knew it was Spencer since he was the only one who had my number.

"Hey (Y/N)" he said, and I swear I could hear him smiling through the phone. I could tell he had become more comfortable with our one-sided phone flirting over the past month. "I need you to look up all of Dr. Gupta's patients at the psychiatric clinic for the past 3 months, see if any of them drive a black van."

"You got it, gorgeous. If you need anything you know you can always bang my line."

---------------------------------------------------------

“You have (Y/N)’s number?” JJ asked.

Spencer looked puzzled, “Yea.. don’t we all?”

“I think it’s just you pretty boy” Morgan quipped, as he chuckled and gave him a pat on the back.

Spencer had grown fond of (Y/N)'s phone flirtation, but he was too embarrassed to return the favor in front of his colleagues. He loved watching her walk around the office in her high heels, trying to keep up with Penelope's fast pace. He knew brief glances and morning coffees weren't going to cut it anymore, he had to do something before her internship was over. So he decided to call her on his way home from working the case.

---------------------------------------------------------

The team had just finished a case and were on the plane headed back to Quantico. Penelope had plans so she left me to wrap things up in the office. Just as I was making my way towards the door, my phone began to ring. Confused, I picked up the phone and listened to see if it was a misdial.

"Hey babygirl."

I nearly choked when I realized who was speaking. My body involuntarily shivered and my heart quickened its pace. This "babygirl" hadn't come from Morgan, it was Spencer on the other line.

"Hi Spencer! What's up I thought you guys wrapped up the case?" I asked in a confused tone.

"We did, but I thought I'd call you without everyone else around." His voice sounded sultry and silky smooth, unlike his usual rapid rambling, and it made it so much harder for me to speak. "We should be landing in about twenty minutes, stay in your office and I'll meet you there."

"Okay, I'll be waiting here, handsome."

--------------------------------------------------------

Those twenty minutes were the longest twenty minutes of my life. I knew Spencer had a crush on me as well, but what could he possibly want to meet with me for? Was he going to ask me to stop flirting with him on the phone? Was he going to ask me out? Was he trying to make out with me? God I secretly hoped it was the latter...

Just as I had been getting lost in my own thoughts, I heard the familiar voices of the rest of the team down the hall. I knew Spencer would be walking into my office any minute, so I nervously fixed my hair and applied the lipgloss Penelope gave me.

"Hey babygirl," said the tall man standing in the door frame.

"Hi Spencie," I said with a smile as I called him the nickname I lovingly gave him, which I'm sure he secretly hates. I couldn’t help but grin since the word “baby girl” still seemed so foreign coming from his mouth. I stood up to meet his gaze as he slowly made his way over to my desk.

"I know you've been teasing me these past couple weeks," he said as we closed the gap between our bodies. I would say our faces were inches from each other, but he was impossibly tall and my face didn't reach past his chest, "but now its my turn to tease you," he said as he brought his hands behind my ears and pressed his lips onto mine. He was gentle and tentative at first, but I passionately pressed my lips back against his to deepen the kiss. I ran my hands through his gorgeous locks and began to tug. We quickly became a breathless mess and I couldn't help the feeling building in the pit of my stomach. His hands traveled down to my waist and he gingerly pulled me closer. He was both hesitant and passionate, not quite sure if he should act on his instincts. He pulled back for just a second to speak:

"I know you only have a few weeks left with us, but would you like to get coffee sometime?" he asked with those same puppy dog eyes that made me fall for him in the first place.

"Oh Spencie, we're a bit past coffee don't you think?" I said with blushy cheeks. "Let's get dinner sometime, I'm free any night except Tuesday, I have Zumba class with Penelope."

"She really has influenced you a lot hasn't she?" he said, making a mental note of the pink scrunchie in my hair.

"In more ways than one hot stuff."

---------------------------------------------------------

Over the next few weeks, I spent my days phone flirting with Spencer at work and my nights making out with him in my office or eating Chinese take-out in his apartment. No one on the team, not even Penelope, knew about our brewing workplace romance, and we intended to keep it that way until I was hired permanently. However, that didn't stop him from flirting back on our calls. I was on my last week of internship and I was now the only one who Spencer called when he needed information. Spencer and I had agreed to take it slow, but our most recent calls had me desperate to find out what else he was packing besides the gun strapped to his hip. Just then, a call interrupted my wandering thoughts and I immediately picked up knowing it was him.

“Dayton Ohio you're on the air" I answered in my sexiest voice possible.

"I'd like to make a request," Spencer replied.

"You can request anything you want, doctor" I could hear him chuckle behind the phone before telling me what he actually needed.

"I need you to look up a marketing firm by the name of Firsthand Media and see if they have any connections to the colleges of the first set of victims."

"I'm on it, sugar" I answered.

"Oh and one more favor, look up the words beautiful and brilliant and see what you can find."

"Look at that, it's me"

"You're the best (Y/N)"

I could feel Penelope's eyes on me before she turned around and said

"I've never been more proud."

The rest of the day was filled with calls from the other agents to Penelope, mostly Morgan, until that evening when I got one last call from Spencer. He asked me to see if there were any men who had been admitted to the hospital in the last 6 months for brain injuries, but no one came up.

"Couldn't find anything, looks like you're going to have to punish me Spencie," I replied.

"You'll just have to wait til I get back for that"

He hung up, and I couldn't believe what I just heard. Penelope and I were in shock that Spencer Reid could be so dirty. For once, I was the one blushing on the other end.

"(Y/N) I swear to god if you don't let that man make sweet love to you I am personally writing your letter of resignation"

"Penn! We just flirt is all, like you and Morgan, I could never actually be with him"

"So you two haven't been using my sacred office space to make-out between cases?" she asked with raised eyebrows. I stood there, with my mouth open and eyes wide, looking guilty as ever.

"You do know there's a camera in this office right?" I was mortified. Thank God we'd never done anything more than kiss in this office.

"You knew this whole time? Why didn't you say anything?"

"Oh Morgan knows, but everybody else is still in the dark because I didn't want to risk you not getting hired. And I hacked into the security computers and deleted the footage."

"Thank you so much Penn, and I promise I won't have anymore heated makeout sessions in this office, or anywhere in this building for that matter."

"Anything for my little protege. But in all seriousness, you should definitely ride boy-wonder off into the sunset and make it official once you're hired."

"Penelope!" I hit her in the arm, only half jokingly because I knew deep down that that's exactly what I should do.

---------------------------------------------------------

As usual, I waited in my office for Spencer to meet me. But this time, I was determined to go back to his apartment and finish what we started over the phone.

"Hello beautiful" he said as he made his way over to me. He greeted me with a hungry kiss and it took every ounce of strength I had not to pin him down and ride him in this office.

"Spencer listen, we can't makeout in this office anymore. Garcia and Morgan know about us already and she had to delete the footage off of the security cameras."

"Morgan knows? That present he gave me actually makes a lot of sense now."

"Nevermind that," I said before moving closer to whisper in his ear, "what I need now is for you to punish me like you said you would."

I could feel his heart beating out of his chest, his eyes went wide but faintest hint of a smile appeared on his deliciously soft lips.

"well then what are we waiting for" he said as he grabbed my hand and practically pulled me out of the office.

We wasted no time getting back to his apartment. Reid was always such a cautious driver, but this time he was driving like his life depended on it. Once in the building, he wouldn't let go of my hand and we were practically sprinting towards his door. He fumbled with the key for a moment before the door sprang open and I pushed him inside with the force of my lips on his. His hands had become quite comfortable exploring my body, and tonight was no exception. I tugged on his tie without breaking the kiss and he let out a heavy sigh as I led him towards his bedroom. I pushed him once again, this time down onto the bed, and I practically jumped on top of him to straddle his waist. As I let my weight rest on the growing bulge in his pants, he let out the sexiest groan and I could feel the wetness pooling in my panties. I continued to grind on him as we completely devoured each other. This wasn't the first time we'd done this, but this time it was different, we both wanted more.

"Spence please," I whined, "I need you."

"You can have me baby," he replied, looking up at me with those puppy dog eyes that I adore so much.

We quickly undressed and I raced to climb back on top of him.

"You really are beautiful," he said while tucking a loose strand of hair back behind my ear. I smiled back at him and gently kissed his lips before going back to grinding over his now bare cock.

His groans were like music to my ears and I couldn't help but sighing at the feeling of him gliding across my exposed cunt.

"Baby please, I want to be inside you," he pleaded.

"Do you have a, uh, condom?" I asked, somewhat sheepishly.

"I do...that was actually the 'gift' that Morgan got me," he said followed by a nervous chuckle. He reached into the drawer on the bedside table and, slightly trembling, opened the package.

"I-I just want you to know that I haven't done this in a while, (Y/N)," he began, "I don't know if I'll be any good." He was just as nervous as I was. I gave him a sympathetic nod before replying.

"It's okay Spence, it's been a while for me too. I guess you could say we get pretty caught up in our work."

"Agreed," he said, slightly more at ease.

As soon as he finished up rolling on the condom, I wasted no time lining him up with my entrance and sinking onto his length.

"Fuck, baby" he moaned with his eyes screwed shut "you feel so good." It was insanely hot to hear such foul language come out of Spencer Reid's mouth.

"You want me to ride you baby?" I asked teasingly.

"Yes please..."

I began to bounce rapidly on his dick, feeling every inch of him come in and out of me. I had a feeling he wasn't going to last long, but I didn't care, I was beyond happy to just watch the pleasure that I was bringing him. I took his hands and placed them on my breasts, which caused a simultaneous moan to come from the both of us.

"God (Y/N) you're going to make me cum" he said, nearly out of breath.

I knew he was close, but I was slowing down as my legs began to give out on me. He sensed the slowing of my pace, so he took one hand from my breast, wrapped it around my waist, and began to pump into me from below.

“Consider this your punishment babygirl”

This new angle was heaven to me and I couldn't help but cry out. He was fucking me so hard I swear I could see stars.

"Oh god Spence," I moaned. For someone who has been out of the game for a while, he was making me feel so good.

"I'm gonna...I'm..." he muttered.

"Let it out Spence, cum for me baby."

And with that, he spilled his load inside the condom. He just kept coming and coming inside of me until there was nothing left. Spencer Reid was utterly and completely spent.

---------------------------------------------------------

“Well Dr. Reid, you sure know how to please a woman,” you said poking him in the rib.

“What can I say, I’m an overachiever,” he replied with a cocky smile plastered on his face.

As I was about to go in for a kiss on his cheek, my cellphone rang, and it was a call from Penelope.

“Hello my pretty! Sorry in advance that I’m probably interrupting your sexy times with boy-wonder but I just couldn’t wait to tell you. You got the job!”

“Oh my goodness! That’s great news, thanks Penn! What department am I in?”

“You’re going to be working in the international intelligence department, aaaaand that means you’ll probably have to report your little romance directly to human resources.”

“Sounds good Garcia, we’ll take care of that first thing in the morning,” Reid interjected.

“Ah, so boy-wonder is there with you! Looks like you took my advice after all (Y/N),” Penelope replied.

I rolled my eyes and said “Goodnight Penelopeeee” in a sing-songy voice.

“Goodnight you two, be safe and don’t stay up tooooo late.”

“Aww, what ever happened to the fun Penelope Garcia?”

“She’s not here right now but leave a message, bye!” And with that our conversation was over.

“Guess it’s time to tell the rest of the team about us”

“I guess so Spence, good luck handling all the teasing on your own baby,” I said with a giggle and planted a kiss on his cheek before drifting off to sleep. Tomorrow was surely going to be an interesting day at the office.

__________________________________

AN: Thanks for all the love, shameless plug for my newest oneshot The Visit

Taglist: @alondralolll@irehluvr@abbeyskeff@kaldurahms-lover@mischiefmanaged21@cheerful-clarinet@julesasf69@its-like-twilight@spearbsm@xxrookexx@oliveoilthoughts@twilightlover2007@comboboo@breadrobin@sunflowers-420@the-holy-trinity-l@frickyea-guacamole19@ayatos-wife@ghostheartbeat@famfan-1034@ivyproblems@lavenderrway@rogerismyqueen@talkintrashcann@chatxconverse@phoenix1388@dumbredpotato@ourprisma@autisticallyreid@curvingdoll@strwbymoon@tomorrowxforever@alexabsinthe@myliteralhyperfixations19@cloudy-em@prentisszlover@cami-is-reading@ichundjulia@rubywritesblog@blameitonthenight21@xsophx27-blog@mariezanny@gubes-sweaters@ohmoaohbaby@lockwoods-coat-and-reids-vests@secludedstarlight@clockgirl94@theonewhereifangirl@nervousmoongiver@tearsofsound@suburban-forest@unkn0wnnerd@creativeuser101@bigassnocash@chasedbyunclewalt@abbyandersonssecretgfsecretgf@iheartlilia@cryingabta@justsomeimbicel@ssaspencerreidswife@likeawinebottle@imanewsoul@singinghamtaro-blog@lovingperfectionsblog@deafeningmiraclecherryblossom@secretlovezz@inlovewithemilyprentiss@jenthebin@walmartclearance89@theseverefangirl@tulips-ean@gummybear123@myravenchaser@tpickett@librarymousesqueak@pocketful-of-sunflowers@climbingivy97@ghost-wonder@sparrow-winchester@thbckgrnd@mswgtsd@kirmaaa@taliegator@jinecie@unlikelypaintertreeknight@notagirlfangirl@sarahsmiles-user@luvehotch@cosmoscoffeee@ara-a-bird@lesbiansayaishii@itsmeelena@just-a-lil-xtra@willowtree42095@the-way-of-the-hall@theedwardscissorhandslover@thosewhocantdo-teach@slay-and-gay@luvurmind@witchyval@fandom-alley@wifeyreid@samandhislostshoe@whoamiomakeachange@xcastawayherosx@danis-stuff-is-here@love4lando

[lymtw]

When you let Toji accompany you in the dressing room

"Toji, um," you struggle with your balance, wobbling when he starts pulling down your underwear. "I don't think this is a good idea. There's a really big gap in this stall. People can see us, or at least me."

He makes you take a few steps back with him until his back meets the wall you share with the next stall. "No one can see you now, okay? Come on." He slides his rough hand up your thigh, pulling your dress up to reveal your bare ass. "You look stunning in this dress, mama," he murmurs into your ear. "You're putting me through hell by having me just stand here and watch you try it on." His breath lures goosebumps out onto your skin. "Just makes me wanna fuck you in it." His other hand paws at your boob, squeezing it repeatedly.

"Well... what if they catch us?" You ask, your defense crumbling as he kisses your shoulder and up the slope to your neck.

"We'll just have to be quiet, won't we?"

—

"F-Fuck, Toji—mmph..." Toji's hand comes up to muffle your sounds.

"Shh... mama. You trying to get us caught?"

You shake your head, but it's proving to be a lot harder than you initially thought. You knew it would be hard, but you didn't know you'd be so terrible at holding your sounds in.

"You look expensive, doll. You want this one?"

"Mhm..." you mumble into his palm.

"Yeah? You can have it. On one condition." He leans in close to your ear. "You only wear it for me."

"Mm-mm..." you shake your head and push his hand away from your mouth. "I-It's a dress, Toji."

"Clearly," he says, smugly.

"I-I wanna wear it out."

He kisses your neck. "That's not what I told you, baby. If you get it, it's for my eyes only." His grip tightens on your hips. "Can't have you prancing around in this little thing. All that spare attention on you," he chuckles in your ear. "my knuckles would never heal."

"Oh, fuck," you whimper, your hand holds onto the stall door, the lock rattling noisily.

"That got you?" He snickers. "You really are the embodiment of chaos." His hand continues to paw at your clothed breast. He can feel your nipple hardening over the material, something that fuels the lust his body is feeding you. He groans at the feeling of your cunt clenching sporadically.

"What's it gonna be? You gonna be good and wear it only for me, or are we leaving it behind?"

You don't hear a word he says, the adrenaline pumping through your veins blocking everything out.

"Am I talking to myself, now? Answer the question, baby."

You gasp, your head hanging low. "Mm... okay, okay. It's for you... o-only you."

"Smart girl," he murmurs. "Gonna look so pretty like this on my bed."

"C-Can I cum, please?"

"We're taking too long in here, huh?"

You nod, your grip on the door faltering as your legs threatening to give out.

"Alright, you gotta keep your voice down, though."

Toji reached down to overwhelm your neglected clit, enduring the way your body jolted at the rush of stimulation.

"Come on, baby. Feels good, huh? Make a mess on me.

You shudder, unraveling at the constant feeling of Toji thrusting into you. Your teeth sink into your bottom lip, almost drawing blood from how hard you bite. Your brows furrow, your eyes shutting tightly as you try your best to suppress the moans that are dying to leave your mouth. Toji watches you, a smirk on his face when he hears the smallest squeak slip out, followed by shuddered breathing.

"Good fucking girl," he praises. His arms wrap tightly around your waist as he keeps rutting into you until he feels like he's about to burst. You tap his thigh when the overstimulation starts creeping in, falling to your hands and knees when he releases you and pulls his cock out to bust into his hand. You could hear his little hums and breaths behind you, a couple fucks muttered. This was his way of not groaning or moaning out loud when his load spurted out.

He looked down at you stretching your back on the floor, still on your hands and knees. The sight made him realize that this little incident wasn't enough to sate his lust for you.

"Get dressed," he says, tucking himself away. He watches you with a wolf-like hunger as you sluggishly take the dress off. You put your underwear back on and got dressed into your outfit. Green eyes bore into your frame as you tried to make yourself look as presentable as possible for when you exit. You could still see the lingering desire in his gaze when you told him you were ready to go.

You clung onto his arm, leaning against him as you walked out. He grabbed the tag number from the stall door and gave it to the woman working the dressing room area. She looked at the weary smile on your face and the random parts of hair that messily stuck out on your head. She reciprocated the smile but with worried eyes.

"We'll be taking this," Toji says, interrupting the woman's focus on you. He raises the dress by the coathanger it's on to briefly show it to her, before quickly dragging you away from her concerned expression.

"We're done here, right? Ready to go home?" Toji mumbles into your hair as he walks you back to the center of the store.

"Mhm, 'm tired. Just take me home already." You start trying to lead him towards the store's exit.

"Whoop, this way." He maneuvers both of you towards the register area. "Gotta pay first."

[harrysfolklore]

of the jealous kind - charles leclerc blurb

inspired by this request ! i hope you like it

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

The Miami heat embraced your skin as you walked holding Charles' hand through the Ferrari garage. It was race day and you were beyond excited to be joining him.

The Miami Grand Prix was known to be a place where all kinds of celebrities wanted to be, from actors to influencers, the paddock and the garages were filled with starlets who wanted to meet the drivers. So you wondered who would you be seeing around the area and possibly fangirling if any of your favorite celebrities happened to attend

"They told me Ed Sheeran is coming," Charles said, as if he read your mind, "I really want to meet him, he's a legend."

"Look at you, fan boy," you teased, pinching his side and letting him wrap his arm around your shoulders, "Are you going to tell him how many times you play his songs around the house?"

"Definetely, I'm also going to ask him to sign my forehead," he said and you threw your head back in laughter, "Are you good? Do you want anything to drink? Or anything I can get you."

You smiled tenderly at him, one of Charles' many love languages was always making sure you felt comfortable and happy, no matter the place or setting.

"I'm all good, baby," you pecked his cheek affectionately, "I can't wait for the race to start, honestly."

"Me too, I have a great feeling about this one," he moved his arm to placed around your waist, squeezing your hip, "I feel like it's going to be special."

Before you could reply, someone from his team called for him.

"I'll be back in a minute, mon coeur," he kissed your lips quickly, "Don't go too far, okay?"

"Don't miss me too much." You winked at him and sent him his way, watching as he walked off with a confident stride.

As you waited for Charles to return, you took in the atmosphere of the garage. Mechanics rushed around, making last-minute adjustments to the cars, while team members and guests mingled, discussing the upcoming race. You spotted a few familiar faces among the crowd, fellow drivers and their partners, all sharing in the pre-race anticipation.

Lost in thought, you almost didn't notice when a voice called out your name. Turning, you could swear your jaw fell to the floor as you realized that it was Zayn, your ex-boyfriend.

You and Zayn dated for almost two years and broke up nearly six years ago, the breakup was healthy and you were in good terms with him after it, but it had been years since you had seen each other, and you had never expected to run into him here, of all places.

"YN, hey," Zayn said, a warm smile on his face as he reached you, "Wow, it's been a while,"

"Yeah, it has," you replied, returning his smile. "What are you doing here? Are you a fan of Formula 1 now?"

"Yeah, I'm really into it," he said, "I was dying to meet the drivers and hang around here, I'm glad I could finally do it."

"That's amazing," you said, genuinely surprised. "I had no idea you were into that kind of stuff."

"Yeah, it's been a huge hobby of mine for a while now," Zayn explained. "But enough about me, how have you been? What have you been up to?"

You filled Zayn in on your life since you last saw each other, telling him about your job, your hobbies, and of course, your relationship with Charles. Zayn listened intently, nodding along and asking questions, clearly interested in hearing about your life.

"I'm really happy for you, YN," Zayn said sincerely. "It sounds like you're in a really good place right now."

"Thank you, Zayn," you replied, smiling sincerely at him, "I'm glad we ran into each other. It's nice to catch up."

Before any of you could say anything else, you felt a presence behind you and a strong arm wrapping protectively around your waist.

You didn't have to turn around and look at his face to know that Charles was jealous.

"Hey, love," he said, his gaze fixed on your face, "All good?"

"Yeah, I was just catching up with Zayn. Zayn, this is Charles,"

"Her boyfriend," he said before you could even speak, and you almost rolled your eyes comically, "It's nice to meet you, mate."

"Nice to meet you too," Zayn said as you shook hands, "YN was just telling me about you, I'm a big fan."

"Likewise," Charles replied, his tone polite and kind but and with a hint of possessiveness "Are you visiting all the Garages?"

"Yeah, that's my goal for the day," Zayn said, "Actually, I should probably get going, It was really nice seeing you, YN. And it was great meeting you, Charles."

"Yeah, it was nice catching up," you replied, offering him a smile.

"Take care, both of you, and goof luck on the race." Zayn said, returning your smile.

As Zayn walked away, you could feel Charles relaxing beside you. He turned to you, his expression softening, and you looked at him with accusing eyes.

"So, care to explain what was that?" you said, raising your eyebrows at him.

"What was what?" Charles looked at you innocently, but you could see his jaw was still tensed

"Don't play dumb, Charles," you chuckled, nudging him with your elbow. "You were totally jealous back there, acting all petty and protective."

"I wasn't jealous," he protested, but his eyes betrayed him, glancing away for a split second before meeting yours again, "I wasn't!"

"Sure, sure," you teased, wrapping your arm around his waist and leaning into him. "It's cute, you know. Seeing you get all protective."

"Okay, you win," he rested his arm on your back, "I just wanted him to know you're with me now."

"Don't worry, I think he got the message," you teased, leaning into his side.

"Good," Charles chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple "Because I don't like sharing."

"Don't be ridiculous now," you rolled your eyes playfully, "You're like a big, jealous puppy."

"Hey, I can't help it," Charles protested, a grin on his face, "You're stunning and such a catch, anyone would die to be with you," he said, instantly making you blush, "I just love you so much."

"I love you too," you replied, leaning up to kiss him softly, "Now, come on, let's go watch you win this race."

"Sounds like a plan," Charles said, squeezing your waist, "I hope Verstappen doesn't ruin that plan though."

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

omg congrats for 5k doll! i wanted to slide in and see if i could have a protective!bf Gaz written since my baby is so underappreciated??? i saw this tweet about the scene in mw where gaz's disabling a bomb and is unable to and price throws the guy off the balcony, but this time the bomb in strapped to his love and he's and he's struggling and sees price out of the corner of his eye and remembers what happens last time and panicks and goes all 'you won't do that to her'. just a thought, love all your work!

—Don't Look At Her

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [The bomb starts ticking down, rapidly firing to zero. Gaz won't let Price near you. Not after he'd remembered the Captain's actions when they'd first met.] ❞

"Gaz," your voice wavers, watching the rapidly working man and seeing his darting eyes—lit with panicked fervor. He doesn't answer, so you speak again. "Gaz!"

"No!" He barks, brown eyes instantly meeting yours. Lips pull in a right frown; there's a glint in his gaze that you'd never seen before—not in the many years you'd known him. Kyle's firm hands don't leave the wiring attached to your chest. The vest.

The bomb.

"No, Love," he grates out, immediately getting back to work as you try to keep your tears at bay, body jerking back and forth as your boyfriend pulls at the straps and bits. "Don't even say anything. You're going to fucking fine, you hear? It's going to be okay."

It was the product of bad intel, really. You'd been sent in without the proper know-how, leading to a scuffle where the butt of a gun had been slammed into your temple. When your eyes opened again, it was already too late.

Kneeling in the middle of a large office building, the glass of the windows shattered behind you, and the wind whips the back of your skull aggressively, you stare down at Gaz. Trying to form words on a tongue that won't cooperate.

"You need to run," you whisper out, resigning yourself as the rapid beeping increases. Your heart moves so fast you can't feel the skin of your chest anymore. "Kyle," pleading, you watch his jaw clench something fierce. "Listen to me—!"

"I'm not leaving you!" A sharp snap of a metal piece hits your ears, the piece of the vest clattering to the ground in a violent display of desperation. Gaz glances back up at you stubbornly; as if uncaring about the impending incineration only minutes away. "So you stop bloody talking like that, yeah? I'm not just giving up!"

The sides of your eyes dribble out rabid tears, lungs a mess of air and inhales that can't even be considered breathing anymore by how wheezy they sound.

How would it feel? Exploding into a patchwork of blood and fire—instantaneous, sure, but feeling Kyle's heat and his puffs of air; his fear, you can't imagine him dying like that. Not him.

"Look at me," Gaz pants, fingers pulling at cords in search of the one he needed to cut—unable to pinpoint it through the hack-job that had been done to your vest.

There was every color under the sun except fucking yellow. His teeth clench so tight they hurt his jaw, but he sends you quick glances as you shakily do as he says.

Brown eyes soften, and while the both of your hands shake, for a second there's a relief at the eye-contact. "Repeat it, Love."

You lick your lips and stammer, "y-you're not leaving."

Lips press firmly into yours, and you clench your eyes tight at the sensation, tiny sob breaking the contact.

"That's right." Gaz growls. "Not on my life."

Rapid footsteps race into the room, but before the Sergeant can reach for his weapon, the familiar call from the Captain echoes out.

"Friendly!" It's as if Gaz doesn't even register, still digging and fearfully looking at the timer.

50 seconds. 49. 48. 47...

"Sergeant," Price jogs over. You can barely find the inner strength to look up at him. "Sitrep."

Blue eyes dart from the vest to you and the Captain's serious face goes grim. His expression flashes with the inner workings of his mind, eyes narrowing and a grunt stuck under his lips.

"I have it," Gaz speaks quickly, and the words strike you as odd, though you don't comment. Price slid him a sharp look.

"Gaz—"

"Don't even look at her." Snarling like an animal, brown orbs are volatile enough to rend stone in two as they meet the older man's. You and John are rendered speechless, sharing a swift glance in shock like teenagers hearing their parents swear for the first time.

Kyle's eyes are wild, sweat slicking his brow. "Come fucking on!" He yells and your body is snapped forward as Gaz pries on the straps, having to steady yourself on the man's shoulders for support. Every muscle in his body is taunt; shaking with force.

Perhaps it was the memory that invaded his brain like a parasite that had made him snap at his superior like that—a stab to his fine tissue that digs all the way down his rail-straight spine.

Piccadilly Circus. Tanto building. Hostage with an explosive vest.

Kyle's fingers bleed as they peel back rough velcro, having ripped off his gloves to be nearer to you.

It all flashes past his mind in horrible increments, the past, but instead of a man—the hostage is you. And Price was burning his neck with a harsh stare once more.

He's going to throw her out the window, Kyle panics and you watch with the deadly realization of the situation. No. No, I won't let him. Not her.

"Garrick," Price says, voice deep. But he doesn't move. "You need to get your head back on."

"I've got it screwed on just right, Captain." Gaz grunts. "Trust me."

12 seconds. 11. 10. 9...

You stare at Gaz and memorize the make of his handsome face—the dates and the late nights speaking about the future sticking to your skin like leeches; sucking away every instance of love and happiness. His laugh. His brown eyes.

His smile.

Oh, you want to see your Love smile.

"Sergeant!" Price yells, moving forward to grapple onto Kyle's shoulder. "It's going off!"

Your boyfriend rips out of his hold, fists clenched and screaming.

"Get the fuck off of me! I can save her!" Your back hits the ground with a slap and a ragged gasp from your lips, the Brit straddling your hips in a desperate play to deactivate the bomb.

"Kyle," you look up at him, pleading. "You have to take cover, it's...it's okay. I love you, I need you to know that—"

"Bloody shut," eyes spark, locking on the bright color under the front of the vest. Gaz snaps a hand under the material and rips at it in a ruthless wrench of his arm. 2 seconds. There's a deafening snap of wire. "Up!"

The beeping stops and the world stills.

Your wide eyes can't stop crying as you stare up into brown eyes with astonishment; struggling to breathe. You can't tell if the building is vibrating or only you, but nothing seems to be able to focus as a wave crashes down on you; adrenaline still striking you.

Everything rings inside of your ears, pounding in your head.

Hands grasp the base of your jaw and lips descend to yours, tears slapping your skin from above in a wave of feral agony. Gaz stifles his sob on your mouth as you shake wildly, panting over your flesh.

Price gives off a large sigh from behind, standing straighter and turning his head.

Gaz's forehead connects with yours, but there are no words to be said—just the silent gazing and lingering fear of death. He won't let go of your cheeks, and, quivering, you go to grasp tightly at the sides of his arms.

With a shuddering breath, he closes his eyes and sags into you.

TAGS:

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[feyascorner]

Imagine Tav who has a thing for deep voices (ahem Astarion’s when he gets all low and breathy and AHHHHH) and he notices. I’d combust

AGLAGKJL I HAVE OTHER REQUESTS BUT I SAW THIS AND I HAD TO WRITE IT IMMEIDATELY HES JUST SOOO....also warning this is a bit suggestive nothing terrible but i also haven't written anything other than fluff and angst in ages so i might be a little rusty....

You have barely any breath left in your lungs, and you think you wouldn't mind dying this way. He shoves the door to your shared room open with his back as you push him through it, lips molding against his in a heated wave of passion. Your fingers entangle themselves in his white curls, pulling at them just gently enough to draw out a low groan from his throat, and in an instant, he has your back pressed against the wall, both hands holding either side of your face as if it's the last time he'll get to touch you.

And as much as you wouldn't mind dying from suffocation here, being ever so perceptive, he pulls away to lean his forehead against your own, watching as your chest heaves up and down in a helpless attempt to catch your breath. He pinches one of your cheeks. "It's a relief that one of us needs air to remain conscious. If you were to become like myself, I'm not confident we'd actually ever stop."

"I never said we needed to stop," you say breathlessly.

"You don't need to tell me," he leans forward to press his lips against the area where he usually sinks his teeth into your neck. Instead of the familiar prick, all you feel are his cool lips peppering kisses on your skin. "Your body, and how it responds to me...it does all the talking for you."

And much to your embarrassment, his words are sent straight to the hammering of your heart. It must be the way he says it---so softly, yet rough. Teasing, yet honest. Low enough to drop his voice an octave but not enough to take away its usual charm. And the worst is the breathiness adorning his very words. For someone who doesn't need to breathe, he certainly sounds like he does it a lot.

You feel him nip at a sensitive spot of your neck and practically yelp, earning a snicker from the culprit in front of you.

"Your heart's beating quite fast, darling," he says slowly, almost in a whisper. "Are just a few words enough to rile you up so much?"

You remain silent, afraid all sanity you have left will snap if you dare to speak.

"But that's not all, is it? No, my sweet, you only feel this way about my words because I'm the one saying it," you can hear the grin in his tone. He pulls away from your neck, lifting his head back where he can meet your eyes. "Do you like when I say things like this? Vulnerable? Sensual? Seductive?--"

You slap your palms across his mouth, heat practically radiating off of your face, as you feel his fangs through his smile. He knows, you think, face paling. He knows how you respond to just his stupid voice, and you know him more than enough to expect the worst from the power you've given him. It's humiliating almost---but more than anything, you want him to shut up. To stop talking to you in that way that brings butterflies to your stomach, to stop looking at you as if you're the most desirable person in all of Faerun, to stop just existing in the moment---

Astarion gently pries your hands away from his face, satisfaction more than apparent in his expression. "No use being bashful now. I'm not offended at all. If anything, I'm rather flattered to know you find even my voice as attractive as the rest of me."

"Please stop talking."

"You don't mean that, clearly."

You grab a nearby pillow and smush it against his cheek, pushing him away.

With a soft laugh, he takes the pillow from your hands, placing it beside him to look at you properly. You want to hide away in a hole forever, but you can't do much other than look to the ground, beyond embarrassed. His obvious amusement doesn't do much to soothe you.

"Look at me, darling."

"Hells no."

"Will you listen if I whisper it to you?"

You shoot him a glare, and he laughs again.

So instead of convincing you any further, he takes either of your hands. His voice is low again, and you swear he's doing it on purpose. "We all have our quirks, my love. I enjoy drinking your delicious blood in our nights of passion, and you enjoy listening to my wonderful voice during them."

"Did you just compare this to being a vampire?"

"This and that. Same thing."

The quirk of your brow is enough to tell him of your annoyance, making him squeeze your hand with a grin. You'd throw him out if he weren't so pretty. Those long lashes, the white curls, that irritatingly beautiful shade of his eyes...Gods, you're helpless. But something tells you that the feeling is mutual. Wordlessly, you find yourself leaning closer again, and his grin stretches wider. "So talking lowly does seem to work its charm on you."

You snort, rolling your eyes. "Shut up and kiss me."

"As you wish."

[tremendum]

where to start 

(gif not mine) pairing: din djarin x afab!reader (gender not specified, descriptions of afab genitalia)     rating: explicit.  (18+. mdni.)     requested: yes, here !!! word count: 2.7k  summary:  Din lets out a shaky sigh, finally turning around in the chair to face you, legs spread slightly, "it's not like- I don't not want to- I just haven't-I don't know where to start."  warnings:  SMUT. there’s like no plot. teasing, PiV (unprotected), Din has a praise kink, he begs, inexperience, loss of virginity, brief allusion to rough sex if you squint, yall cant convince me Din isn’t a stuttering little mess, riding in the pilot’s seat!!, sliiiight dom!reader, slight discussion of Din being ashamed he’s a virgin, idk what else tbh  notes:  thank u for requesting this! i just wrote it in like 30 mins haha. i hope yall like it i love my space cowboy boyfriend <3  this is unedited. reblogs/comments always motivate me hehe

   [other din fic          din series (be like me): masterlist  ]

★  

you stare at the cold metal in front of you. 

it stares back silently. 

your hand is itching to just go knock, to raise a few inches and rap your knuckles upon its shimmering, textured surface; it'll be so simple. so easy, definitely one of the easier things you've ever done. 

but the conversation that awaits on the other side- well.

that's not so simple. 

"why don't you go over there, Din?"  a glint of beskar as his head whips to you, alarmed. thrown off. a head tilt of irritation, "excuse me?"  a raise of your eyebrows, "oh, sorry, didn't realize we were playing innocent." you jut your chin towards the young woman who stands, twirling her hair and making bedroom eyes at Din from across the bar. jealousy curls up your throat - he'd been staring in her direction since you'd arrived, too. "come on, she's been staring at you the whole time. go- go do your thing." 

"that isn't funny." he mutters, causing the chilled pint of ale between your fingers to sear you as you flush. tough crowd.  "why do you assume I'm joking, hm?" you tilt your head again and he shakes his head. it's painful, the way you and Mando have been dancing around each other for weeks. a brush of a leather hand on the small of your back, a kind chuckle at something you say, your hands soothing over the thick cowl that hides his sore knots - the ones that form in his shoulders from carrying the jetpack - a murmur of your name when you're in danger, the curling of your hand around his arm in crowded public spaces. you're sure it's torture, but it seems neither one of you can make the move. 

"she's not looking at me like- like anything." he dismisses, arms curling over themselves in a cross of defense. you hum a laugh; who wouldn't look at Mando like that? 

"oh, c'mon. jus'go up and talk to her. she's probably dying for a big man like you to toss her around." you elbow him, winking. a slick, regretting coil of envy curls around your stomach as you take in the way his helmet tilts from you back to her; what the fuck are you doing? you silently beat yourself up, cheeks hot with the swirling complacency that befalls you following several drinks of ale. you sound like a complete moof milker as you let yourself encourage Mando to- to what, pursue another woman? 

how does that make sense to your brain?  

there's an echoing thud as Din slams his fist hard on the bartop. you jump, eyes wide as he shakes his head, turning to stalk straight out the doors, leaving you behind in his anger. 

yeah. the wall has never been so daunting before. 

you know you upset him earlier. he's been cooped up inside his bunk the whole night after you returned alone from the cantina, and no matter how much you've tried to ignore it, you know that it's your fault that you've made him angry. 

your fist raises. 

the metal whooshes before you can make contact, though, and your eyes meet the hard chest of beskar before you can take a step back. a soft oh leaves your lips as his helmet tilts microscopically down towards you for a moment; he's pushing hard past you with a fierce silence and without a second glance in your direction. 

"wait!" you call as he disappears up into the cockpit, the silence sterile in the Crest as he stalks out of view. you chew your lip as you scramble to follow him, knowing you at least owe it to him to apologize for what you'd said. 

he's sitting in the cockpit, fiddling with the controls as you soon start to engage in liftoff protocols; a thudding jolt as the Crest lifts off sends you stumbling into the chair as you stare, wide-eyed, shocked at Mando's abrupt behavior. he didn't even warn you that he was preparing your next track. 

you try; you really do. seven different attempts - yes, you counted them - to get him to speak, casually commenting on the smoothness of the Crest after your last maintenance day, asking him if he remembered the coolant you'd forgotten a few cycles ago, telling him about Grogu catching a flying-Banda and swallowing it whole mid-air; stupid shit. 

all you got in response was silence.

a sigh, maybe - his helmet wouldn't turn anywhere near you, and your glare cuts through the glinting on his head as stars race above you. it was just like when you'd first met, agreeing to go with him and work maintenance or grogu-sit when he needed it, and existing in weeks of silent tension, the man surrounded in so many walls that he could be armor-less and still the most impenetrable person in the galaxy. 

he was cold. you'd pushed him back into the shell you'd spent months working to chip away. 

"Din." you say flatly, crossing your arms. he doesn't respond; not even a huff, or a grunt, or a movement of muscle to indicate he heard the word. 

"look, I just- I want to apologize. okay?" you say desperately, shaking your head. but he catches you off guard yet again as he speaks up, voice heavy and more hot than normal; like he's been stewing with his thoughts for far too long. 

"-I don't want some random woman. I don't just sleep with anybody because I think they're attractive." his voice moves through the cockpit in defiance and you sit back in your chair, blinking for a moment. oh.  

you clear your throat, unsure how to approach what he's said; a sick, twisted part of you scowls at his insinuation that he'd found the woman from the bar attractive; but of course he did. she was. and you're unable, still, to deny the throbbing ache of desire that dully spreads through you at the very dim prospect that you are not just a random woman to him.

"I was out of line. I over-stepped." you try again. 

"do you think I'm upset that you teased me back at the cantina?" he clips, taking you off-guard. your brows furrow, tilting your head, "y-yes?" it comes out like a question of your own, in your doubt. 

he sighs. the weight of it smashes you back as you furrow your brows; he will not go into another bout of silence again, you won't let him. no. 

"what is it, Din?" you ask gently, leaning your elbows onto your knees. 

he breathes out, hand twitching by his side. "I just-"

you're not sure what spurs his sudden admission; be it from frustration or a genuine desire to confide in you, his only companion besides a 50-year-old baby. 

"I don't have- I don't have much experience." he admits, voice laced with embarrassment. he sounds much more unsure of himself than normal. "because of the Creed- I have lived differently than others." 

oh. oh.

you flood with emotion, eyes flying wide. "oh, Din-" you feel like you're on fire in embarrassment, shaking your head in regret, "I'm- I didn't even think about that. I shouldn't have-" 

"please," he almost whimpers it, "stop." 

you do. 

he lets out a shaky sigh, finally turning around in the chair to face you, legs spread slightly, hands on his lap. "it's not like- I don't not want to- I just haven't-I don't know where to start." 

you nod, throat dry. his composure, the sweet genuine tilt in his voice; your underwear slicks as you wait for him to continue. the air feels... thick with anticipation. 

he's breathing more shallowly, his hands gripping his beskar thighs as he keeps your gaze. "I don't...know how to get what I want from..." he stops, his helmet fully facing you. your words are dead on your tongue as you stare at him; your heart thunders as you beg him to say it. 

"from you." he finishes, body still as he awaits your reaction. 

heat spreads through your entire body as you stare at him, fire licking your fingertips. he wants- he wants you. he wants you. 

you swallow your fears in one sentence, "have you considered... asking?" 

your voice has it's desired effect. his chest almost shivers as he lets out a soft breath, hands clenching as you stand from your seat to walk, slowly, towards his chair. you're more than thankful you'd had the thought to change from your hunting clothes; your shorts, breezy and loose, sit barely below the curve of your ass and you don't miss the way Din's helmet moves with the sway of your hips.

his helmet tilts to stare up at you when you set your hands on each side of his arm rests, leaning in close. you can smell his scent as you smile sweetly, "I would say yes, you know." you whisper next to his helmet as he lets out a strangled noise. 

it’s a split second before he shakily groans. "I want you." he finally gasps, "I need you." 

you let out your own shaky breath as arousal floods your underwear, arousal swirling in your stomach. "I want you too, Din." you press a soft kiss to his forehead, the cool beskar tingling your heated, desiring lips. 

his hands remain clenched until you slide yourself onto his lap, settling yourself to straddle him in the pilot's chair, a fantasy you've imagined almost every night since you've met the man. you don't even suggest removing the beskar; he deserves to be comfortable as possible, and you flush when you realize you like the sharp bite of the metal on your bare skin. 

your hands explore the long, sturdy planes of his chest and neck, over the ruched material, threads loose under the tips of your fingers, armor cold. you can feel him under your aching heat; he's already semi-hard, his breath falling from his helmet in breathy grunts as you slowly, gently rock against him. "you can touch me, Din." 

it's like he's snapped to life; hands fly up to your hips, tugging your chest impossibly close as he mutters into your ear, "fuck, cyare." 

it starts slow; your bodies glued to each other, exploring every inch you'd desire to discover before, the blue-electric lights of hyperspace coaxing the two of you into a dreamlike state. 

but he gets desperate quick. 

he's groaning, straining hard and thick against his flightsuit; as your hand falls to palm him as you rock your clothed clit over the material, you're momentarily concerned that if you aren't warmed up before taking him, he may not fit. "you're so big, Din." you whisper as your lips flutter along the seam of skin exposed between his helmet and cowl. he lets out a moan of your name, one hand pulling you by your back towards him, the other digging into the plush of your ass, sneaking under the fabric of your sleep shorts. 

"cyare, please-" he gasps, voice begging, "need to- need to be inside you." 

you smile, kissing the hot skin of his pressure point, tongue slinking up as his heart pounds. "there, that's how you ask, Din." 

you press another kiss to him, your hands moving to undo his flight suit, pulling his thick cock out; he ruts upwards with a sharp moan, hand digging into your ass so hard it may leave marks. 

pre-cum leaks out of him in beads; he's so goddamn hard, whimpering at your touch. you feel your slick dampen your thighs through your underwear, shivering with desire. 

you pull your underwear to the side swiftly, rising onto your knees as he stables your hips up above him. his chest sputters, grunting as you start to move your hips, teasing him with your velvety wet cunt. 

broken grunts of Mando'a leave his helmet, his fists tightening as his helmet falls back to thud against the back of his pilot's chair. "please, mesh'la, please." he mutters. 

you can't wait any longer; soon you're shifting, prodding yourself over his head, gently taking just a bit of him inside you. your gasps are in tandem at the tight, warm stretch; "Din, y'gonna fill me up so well." 

he moans at that, hands rising to hold your shoulders, his thick, muscled arms swallowing your frame as he hums, "fu-uck, n-need you mesh'la." 

you nod, your breath fogging up his helmet as you desperately shift your hips, preparing to take him into you. and then slowly, you let your legs relax slightly. 

"M-Maker-" Din stutters, the weight of his helmet dropping onto your shoulder as you slowly lower yourself; his cock, thick and warm, eases you open gently, the pain of his stretch curling your toes in your boots. “yes,” you hiss, swallowing dryly as your hands, stabilizing themselves on his neck and shoulder, grip tight. 

you have to ease yourself down onto him; his hips buck up harshly, as if he can't help himself, his tip sheathing so far into you that it prods at your tender cervix, causing you to yelp in pleasure. 

"s-sorry." he mutters, hands shaking as he holds on to you, "can't-f-fuck, it feels so- you feel so warm. y'so tight. ’m not gonna-" 

you nod desperately, starting to move yourself, fucking him slow as his hands hold you. 

"feels good. you're so good, you're so good for me." you mutter, causing his cock to twitch deep inside you. he moans loud as you mutter praises, his cock so deep; dragging through your walls, hitting an angle which nudges that delicious spot inside you.

a groan of your name has you smiling as you suck a mark dark onto his neck; you start to build up the pace, the simmering arousal soon spurring you to chase the building pleasure. 

"yes, yes." you nod, peppering kisses over his throat, nails clawing to expose more of the forbidden, golden skin. you feel him clench below you; his hard, cold thighs tense under the beskar, the muscles of his abdomen flexing under the protection as the lewd noise of your connection echoes through the cockpit. 

he's close, you know it. 

you want him to cum, you want him to be consumed by it; you want him to consume you, you want to consume him. you tug him as you maintain your pace, legs burning as you chase your own orgasm. 

"y'gonna cum, Din?" your voice is laced sultry and aroused, fogging his helmet as he nods, broken moans of ecstasy leaving his helmet. "yes, f-fuck- I-" 

"yes, cum, baby." you mutter, his hips soon spurring to thrust up and meet your own movements, the pet name making him shiver. you let out a yell, cracking with pleasure as he holds you immediately to you, his whimpers echoing with your moans. 

he finishes with a moan of your name and a slam of his fist hard onto the console next to you; all of the lights in the cockpit shut off at his action but you can barely notice as his orgasm paints your channel, hot and thick. you're out of breath as he rides out his high, ropes of cum filling you. 

he twitches inside of you as you stutter to a stop, your wetness causing a stain on his flightsuit below you. 

his head lifts from your shoulder, voice wrecked, chest panting. "you didn't- you didn't finish." he sounds confused, embarrassed. 

you flush at his statement - he just had sex for the first time, and is disappointed you didn't cum? you let your hands rub soothing circles over the parts of his shoulders that aren't covered with armor. 

"n-no, Din- that was 'bout you." you sigh, pressing a gentle kiss to the contoured beskar of his cheek. "we have next time." you ensure him, gasping as his hips still rock up into you gently, his softening cock pushing his cum deeper inside of you; holding it there. 

keeping him inside you. 

he stiffens, head rising to look at you. "no." he mutters, his hands dragging down your spine, catching on your hips, sliding back up to grope your breasts. "show me how to make you cum now. please, mesh'la." 

another rush of arousal floods you, shivers running down your body as you grin with a flush. resisting a loud moan of desire, you nod gently.  "okay." 

- 

requests open

- 

[yawnderu]

Final Girl — Slasher!Keegan P. Russ x Reader (2/?)

cw: stalking, noncon. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

Your life was never meant to be a punishment.

"Are you listening?" The man in front of you asks the moment your gaze starts to drift off for the third time since you arrived at the office.

"Sorry. What did you say?" The dark circles around your eyes make you resemble a raccoon more than a human, the memories of your friends dying and their blood splattered all around the pale wallpapers. Images of nature that were supposed to be remembered as calming do the exact opposite, forever engraved in your broken psyche.

"Do you remember anything about the suspect?" The detective's voice is calm, laced with nothing but pure understanding and compassion, a man too passionate about what he does— and the man you're about to lie to, delaying the investigation of your friend's death just to save your own ass.

"Nothing other than what I've told you, sir. Everything is just so..." The pregnant pause makes him fidget with the pen in his hand, grey eyes focused on the way you look away from him, eyes squinting as you try to recall memories from that night, memories that are so painful he can see it written all over your face, making him feel a pang of guilt.

"It's okay. Call me if you remember anything else, yeah?" His warm hand rests on your shoulder after you get up, trying his best to give you a reassuring smile that is only met with weary eyes, making your way out without saying anything. There's hesitation in your steps, your heart almost beating out of your chest the moment you stop walking and look over your shoulder, briefly meeting his curious gaze.

“He had brown eyes.” Mr. Smith doesn't waste any time on adding the information to his notes, only making the guilt spread all over your insides like black mold, taking over what used to be your soul— it's all his now.

Your life was never meant to be a punishment, yet what do you call seeing the man who killed your friends everywhere you go? He's been taking over your entire life no matter how much you try to push the memories away, no matter how much you try to forget it all happened, only serving as a constant reminder that you didn't do enough.

Dreams colliding with reality isn't something new, yet your nightmares are so realistic that it almost feels like you were there. Even while you were hidden away in a dark closet, you can see your friends struggling against the much bigger, armed man, innocent bodies butchered while they were alive, a mess of limbs spread all over the rented cabin, blank eyes always staring at you, watching you run away and leave them behind.

Were you losing your mind? It all seems so real, to the point you're not even convinced you only saw your best friend die. Are you sure you didn't peek the kitchen the moment you cowardly decided to escape? The kitchen was blocked by a wall, and yet.

Cold water splashes all over your face, feeling the softness of your palm rub the skin, trying to come back to reality, to remind yourself that it's impossible to have seen the other bodies. The crime scene report is repeated over and over like a mantra, serving as a permanent reminder that you weren't there. No, not when only a body was found in the living room.

The person looking back at you in the mirror is a far cry from who you used to be. The dark circles in your eyes resemble more a dead girl walking than a real, healthy body, and perhaps that's what you are. If it weren't for the constant feeling of crippling dread and the tears spilling down your cheeks like a broken dam, you could've fooled a mortician.

The sound of your phone vibrating against the vanity brings you back to reality from your trip to Self-Pity Land, slapping some more water on your sweaty face before deciding to take a peek at the screen.

1:38 PM.

From: Ali💗

Almost there.

It's enough to make you scurry around the room, applying enough makeup to not make your friend worry, knowing that she wanted to get you out of the house just to give you a worthy distraction.

For what seems like the first time in forever, the corners of your lips tilt up into a smile the moment your friend wraps her arms around you, holding you close despite the odd stares you're getting from the people in the diner.

“Hey, you.” Her cheerfulness was contagious, to the point that even if only for a second, you get a sense of normalcy. A sense of community, despite your own feelings about the entire situation.

Your friend can talk for two. Something that you never noticed until now, listening to her ramble about anything and everything for the past hour. In a way, it gave you the chance to dissociate in peace, the words mixing together to the point they barely made sense anymore, completely entering one ear and leaving the other.

“He's looking at you.” Alina says in a teasing whisper, nudging you with her elbow. You give her a confused glance until she looks between the man and you, giving you the look.

Your gaze connects with a pair of baby blue eyes, forcing a sharp pain to cut through your soul. His eyes look too familiar, resembling the pair you see every single day in your nightmares. His entire demeanor screams ''cocky bastard'', manspreading on the seat of the table across from you, his arm propped up on the backrest.

“Awful timing, but I have to go.” Alina says with a small frown, though it quickly changes to a little smug smirk the moment she realizes the man is still looking at you. If she even notices your pleading gaze, it goes completely ignored as she gets up from the booth, giving you a strong, goodbye hug— and the stare from the man makes it clear that it might be the last one.

“Get some.” She teases in a whisper, quickly making her way out of the diner after paying for your drinks. You feel the urge to empty your stomach, yet there's barely anything there, only the slow-growing sense of pure dread the longer you keep staring at each other. Even when you force yourself to look away, you can see him staring at you from the corner of your eye, almost able to tell he has a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

Leaving a halfway done drink behind, you make your way out of the diner, hoping that being out with more witnesses can save you. Is that really him? You barely got the chance to see his eyes yet you never saw his face, starting to doubt yourself the longer your tired feet drag you around the street. He could be an innocent man falling victim of your trauma, simply looking to get laid— you could probably use that, too, yet his icy stare and cocky grin is carved into your damaged mind.

“Need a ride?” A deep, gravely voice offers, nearly giving you a heart attack the moment your eyes meet his. Your hand goes up to your chest, trying to calm your fast-beating heart even when he gives you a reassuring, charming smile.

“No, thank you.” Your tone is far too polite and kind, still wanting to give him the benefit of the doubt despite the fight or flight screaming at you to flee— to get away from the man you're now convinced is the same masked man who murdered your friends.

“Get in the fucking car, princess.”

The charming smile he was shooting your way is gone within a second, his icy gaze piercing through your soul now that he knows you saw through his bullshit. Your gaze drifts down to the hand lifting a part of his shirt up, revealing part of his dark, happy trail— and his handgun.

There's hesitation in your steps as you walk to the passenger's seat, already feeling the smoothie you drank starting to crawl up your throat, almost making you throw it all up, yet you do your best to hold it in, shakily getting into his car.

“… My house's up ahead.” You purposely give him the wrong address, trying to protect your family and yourself from the deranged bastard. The ride is eerily quiet, almost making you even more nervous than if he was trying to make conversation with you. There's no music playing, no humming— nothing, other than his fingers tapping against the steering wheel and his calm breathing.

“We're here.” Maybe you're reading him wrong, but there's hints of teasing bleeding through his deep voice, his eyes shining with mirth when you step out of his truck, making your way to one of the houses. You reach the front door after what feels like minutes, your hand shaking as you think of what to do. You can hear the engine of his car still behind you, not driving away even when you told him that's your home.

I don't want anyone else to die because of me. If someone opens the door, would he murder them too? He has a gun, and the way he brutalized your friends makes it clear that he's not afraid to get his hands dirty no matter the weapon. His loud laugh makes every single muscle in your body tense up, hesitantly looking back at him, the pure amusement dancing all over his face doesn't ease your fears in the slightest.

“Come back, sweetheart. I'll take you home.” And he stays true to his word, driving back in silence, his warm hand resting on your bare thigh. You don't dare look at it, simply staring out of the window, feeling every single callus on his hand while the scenery gets more and more familiar. The black mold in your soul spreads by the second, threatening to rot you from the inside out, bubbling up into a disgusting brew as he stops in front of your house.

Your eyes briefly meet his, his pupils starting to dilate the same way they did when he was done brutalizing your friends; just like a predator who has never failed to catch his prey. You never gave him your address— in fact, you didn't say a single word since you got back into his truck, yet he still found his way to your house.

It's all starting to make sense. Despite assuming it's all a product of your paranoia, you've been catching hints of the masked man everywhere you go, blue eyes always staring right into your soul.

“Not gonna invite me over for some coffee?” Technically, it is a question, yet you both know saying no to him is not even on the table.

“Sure… I can make you a coffee.” Perhaps inviting a serial killer is not the brightest idea, yet what other options do you even have? He knows where you live and the places you frequent, you're not safe anywhere. His hand drifts down to the small of your back as you open the entrance door, hesitantly letting him back into the only safe space you had, willingly allowing him to invade your life.

“Atta girl.” What should feel like praise from an older man only serves as additional mental torture, the sound of the door closing behind you making all hope of surviving him fade away.

“Come sit on my lap.” He walks to the living room as if it's his own home, not even asking for directions, simply being able to navigate his way around like he's been here before— deep inside, you know he has. Your nose starts to sting as he sits down on the couch and forces you to straddle him, your thighs around his, allowing you to feel all the muscle.

“Don't cry…” He taunts, only now making you aware of the hot tears dripping down your cheeks, your lips trembling as he pushes you closer by the ass, pressing your clothed cunt against his hardening dick. His face is buried on he crook of your neck, loudly inhaling your scent as his starts to grind against you, calloused hands roaming all over your pretty body.

“Wanna feel my cock?” The vigorous head shake you give him is enough to make him laugh, open-mouthed kisses planted all over your neck and shoulders, not caring about leaving any marks. You can barely register the sound of his zipper coming down until he's guiding your hand to his warm, hardening dick.

You're too shaky to even do anything about it, disgust and nervousness turning into a dangerous mix, yet Keegan is a patient man. A patient man who gently makes your fingers wrap around his shaft, guiding your movements to jerk him off, getting even harder underneath your touch. Low grunts and muffled moans are spilled right into your ear, clearly getting off despite your very clear fear.

“You're doing so good, princess…” He murmurs. Keegan's free hand starts to sneak his way inside your shirt, slipping past your bra, his thumb brushing past your hardening nipple. Your brain is able to recognize that fight or flight aren't options anymore, so just like a wild animal trying to avoid a fight; you freeze.

Your shaky breaths mingle together, only interrupted by the low groans he lets out, his hand leaving yours for the first time, leaving you unsure of what to do. Despite the tears falling down your cheeks and the muffled whimpers, your hand keeps moving up and down his shaft, not wanting to die by his dirty, blood-tainted hands.

Keegan's mind isn't broken enough to not know it's wrong, yet it has been broken enough to the point he simply doesn't care. Thrown away by his brothers in arms and the marines, he doesn't have anything else to lose. No life purpose, other than to bring others the same pain he has suffered for years.

A quiet whimper escapes your lips as he moves your hand away from his cock, using his tip to move your underwear aside. His free hand goes to the back of your head, encouraging you to hide your pretty, tear-stained face on the crook of his neck, fully muffling your cries the moment he penetrates you. His dick is way too thick for his own good— stretching you open forcefully, despite the way he's actually going out of his way to make it as painless as possible.

“Shh, it's okay, kid. Just enjoy it.” He whispers into your ear, running a reassuring hand up and down your back, starting to move inside you, as if what he's doing could be even remotely enjoyable. A low, throaty moan makes its way out of his lips the moment he manages to bottom out, your body responding to the forced intrusion by getting you wet, not able to register that you don't want it.

Breaking you apart is the closest thing to religion he's ever gotten. Keegan's lips crash against yours as his hips start to thrust up faster and deeper, growing more desperate by the second despite how wrong he knows it is. He shouldn't be enjoying this, yet he's just a broken, terrible man, the little sobs leaving your lips only making him fuck into you harder.

The human body works in odd, awful ways. You don't want this, yet every single nerve inside your cunt is being stimulated by his long shaft, sending signals to your body that make it feel much better after you got wet. The small moan that gets ripped out from your throat makes him break away from the kiss, amusement written all over his face.

Keegan's forehead leans against yours as his hips rock against yours, his breath hot against your face. From this position, you're able to examine his face, taking note of as many details as possible in case he decides to let you leave, no matter how slim the chances are.

Thick, black eyebrows, buzzcut, dark scruff covering his pale cheeks. High cheekbones, light blue eyes, no visible scars or moles.

You repeat it inside your head like a mantra, trying to use it as a replacement to keep your head occupied from the knot starting to tense in your stomach, tightening up more and more with each thrust. You know for a fact you're hating this, yet your body is betraying you, coating his cock with slick.

He pulls out only to slam himself back in, dragging more pathetic moans out of your lips the moment he hits your spongy cervix. The stimulation is enough to make you hide your face on the warm crook of his neck, biting your thumb hard to muffle your own sounds the moment you start tightening up around him, finally giving in to the stimulation.

Your teeth sink deeper into your skin despite the small whiny moan escaping your lips the moment your forced orgasm hits, barely conscious enough to register the cocky laugh above you, feeling his lips connect against your temple, his breath hot on your skin as he manages to pull out, shooting ropes of thick cum all over your stomach.

“See? It wasn't that bad, was it, princess?” You collapse against him with a loud exhale, not able to hold it together anymore.

“Why…?” It's all you can ask, and you're not even sure about the reason you're asking why. Why did he kill your friends? Why did he let you live? Why is he stalking you? Why did he force himself on you? Why is he caressing your body like you're made of glass, as if he didn't just destroy you into thousands of shards?

“Because I'm not right in the head anymore.”

Taglist: @h0ney-mushroom @bangtandaze @elentiyaiswriting @lollycotton @sleepydang @billiousserpent As always, thank you so much @moosch for the amazing art!! 💗💗 world-building with her has been so fucking exciting and I'm happy to finally be writing about Slasher!Keegan after we've been talking about it for months!!<333

[rin-fukuroi]

𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐨𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐧

Please do not translate or publish my works without my permission.

If you want to support me and read my other works that won't be on Tumblr, you can always do it on my Boosty~

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Pairings: Ayato, Kaeya, Thoma, Neuvillete, Tartaglia x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, modern AU, established relationships, intimate photos, masturbation.

▶• ılıılıılıılıılıılı. P1Harmony - Do It Like This

Note: English is not my native language, so I apologize if there are errors in the text qq

Hey! I think you all miss the dick pic. Although no one asked me to do this, but you don't need to ask me even once to bring you something to eat! Enjoy your meal ( ˘▽˘)っ♨

✦ Ayato

You'll have to try very hard, having endured all the cunning tricks of this man, in order to get a response photo from him immediately after he asks you to do your own.

Initially, it sounded like another joke, very typical for Ayato, but he was very surprised when you took it for a real request, pleasing the man with your piquant photo at perhaps not the most appropriate moment when he was at an important meeting. Fortunately for him, Ayato has enough self-control not to show how aroused he was by the image of your seductive body in front of strangers, but unfortunately for you, he just couldn't resist taking advantage of this opportunity.

It's always fun to play on your guilt, but when adding to your favorite collection of photos is at stake, a special excitement wakes up in Ayato. Of course, although you continue to play along with your lover from time to time, you yourself begin to get a taste. How much longer will he last, continuing to read your dirty messages and looking at the new photos that you took for him, before he snaps and just leaves work only to come home and fuck you to a state in which you'll not be able to not only type, but even pronounce his name? Ayato knows perfectly well what you are doing, so he staunchly withstands your attacks, believing that you yourself don't realize what you have just signed up for.

When he gets home, you better immediately wait for him on your knees without extra clothes, hoping that this will at least smooth out your future punishment a little, because if you think that Ayato will let you cum as fast as you want, then you're damn wrong.

As for his photo for you… Perhaps you still don't deserve to get them enough, but he'll definitely choose the most unfortunate moment for you to put you in an awkward position when one day a charming and insanely seductive photo of his naked body and an excited dick appears in your dialogue, to which you'll not have access. Next time you'll think twice before playing along with this scheming man, but isn't that why you fell in love with him?

✦ Kaeya

art by @cheng25598

Kaeya doesn't even know what would be better, to discourage you with his unexpectedly racy photo or to start by forcing you to do it? But he's so carefree and lazy that he doesn't think long before just sending you a photo of his horny cock while he's dying of boredom waiting for you at home on his day off. Of course, he doesn't care at all that you at work and how, perhaps, all the colleagues around you heard your surprised squeak when you opened a dialogue with your lover.

This is the first time Kaeya has decided to have fun with something like this, expecting you to be embarrassed for sure. It pisses you off that he's right, and your face is inevitably blushing now, while you, trying to look as non-suspicious as possible, run out of your office, hastily closing yourself in the bathroom.

[Y/N]: Wtf, Kaeya?! I'm at work!

[Kaeya]: I just missed you;)

His carelessness will drive you to your grave someday, but you bite your lower lip, suddenly meeting the reflection of your flushed face in the mirror. You'd be lying if you said you didn't want to be at home right now, punishing your annoying lover properly, which is so obvious from the way moisture begins to accumulate between your thighs, settling on the fabric of your underwear. There are still a few hours until the end of the working day, but you're so infuriated by the ease with which Kaeya manipulates you once again, involving you in his dishonest game when you nervously glance at the door, taking a photo in the mirror, as close as possible to the concept of «sexy» in such an environment.

You were about to put your phone in your pocket, sending your reply photo with the indifferent caption: «Glad for you. See ya in two hours», expecting it to calm him down for a while, but didn't even expect to instantly hear the notification sound.

[Kaeya]: I don't think a photo in underwear will be enough to compare to what I sent u:( Or are u afraid that one of your colleagues will see what we doing?

[Kaeya]: If I were wit u right now, you'd have to hide a lot more obscene things.

[Y/N]: Huh? Do u really think u'd make me undress in front of u in the bathroom at my job?

You really don't know how Kaeya do it, but for some reason you fall for his provocations every time, now feeling the heat that you can no longer ignore burning your lower abdomen more and more, while your eyes slide over the most obscene lines that you've ever read, even considering that what kind of person you decided to connect your life with.

But one thing is for sure — now Kaeya's goal is no longer to dispel his own boredom, but to make you cum in one of the cramped booths while he enjoys driving you crazy with his unsurpassed talent for eloquence, describing in detail how he would fuck you in each in the corner of a small bathroom.

Next time, perhaps Kaeya should pay you a personal visit.

✦ Thoma

art by @sonomi_rap5

Poor Thoma almost dropped out of his hands all the groceries that he decided to buy before returning home when he felt the vibration of the phone in his pocket, almost sure that this notification was from your message. You often write to him, knowing what time his working day ends, and asking him to grab something from the store, but this…

The confused man hastily turns away from all the people passing by, huddled in the corner of one of the shelves, when an attachment to your playful message appeared in front of his astonished green eyes, which said that you were looking forward to him at home. Is that new underwear?.. Thoma feels his cheeks flush with a bright blush, and his heart is pounding so wildly in his chest as he desperately tries to put aside all obscene thoughts. But this is hardly possible. You are so charming, adorable, divine in this photo, which he instantly saves before fixing his mesmerized gaze on him for a few more moments, feeling his cock harden and rest against his thigh.

«I'll be home soon!», — is the only message you get before Thoma disappears from the online, and you can't help but chuckle softly, imagining with what excitement and embarrassment he'll pay at the checkout.

As for him… Your gallery has been filled with his photos, perhaps not as soon as you would like. On the one hand, teasing a nice guy like Thoma is very funny, but on the other hand, you didn't want to embarrass him by luring him into your entertainment, which is not even the fact that he'll like it. But still, at some point you think that your relationship is strong enough not to collapse from one of your innocent… okay, obscene requests.

You'd like to see the look on Thoma's face when he saw the message with your dirty request. After a couple of minutes of silence, you were about to say that it was all just a joke, before you hear the notification sound, hurriedly grabbing your phone.

You have no idea where he hid to quickly take a cute photo for you, in which you can barely see anything because of the darkness in the room that Thoma chose for the photo shoot, but it's so charming that such a modest guy like him went to such obscenities for you, even at the risk to be noticed at your own work.

Thoma gets incredibly nervous when he doesn't get an answer from you for a long time, but he frantically looks at the inscription that you are typing something. Oh, should he have taken a better photo, or was it just a joke that he took seriously? But all his doubts and worries fade into the background, giving way to even greater embarrassment than what Thoma experienced when he received such a piquant request from you, when you send him a photo in response, but this time without clothes. The accompanying message contains detailed descriptions of how much you miss him and that you can't cope with how you miss your beloved boyfriend next to you to quench your thirst to feel his cock from that cute photo that he sent you, inside yourself.

What are you doing with him?.. It should be illegal to corrupt such an innocent guy in this way, but Thoma is really happy that he got the most beautiful girl in the world who is able to make him commit follies, just like he is now locking the door of some dark storeroom in his office, unable to cope with the desire that has captured him body and mind.

He doesn't know why you like to embarrass him like that, but… maybe he's starting to like it.

✦ Neuvillette

It's not that Neuvillette didn't know how to use a phone at all, but let's be honest, this skill wasn't even necessary for him until the day you appeared in his life. Making the necessary calls and occasionally using banal SMS was all he was capable of, so using messengers was something new for him, which, of course, Neuvillette needed your help to figure out.

At first, both of you just exchanged innocent short messages, because, you knew, he couldn't often be distracted from his work due to an increased sense of responsibility, but one day a fleeting thought came to your bright head, which you managed to grasp and even decide that it would really be funny to just send Neuvillette your candid photo in the middle of the working day.

And really, what will he do about it?

Neuvillette is so sweet in his seriousness and responsible approach to literally everything in this world, which makes him a wonderful partner, but your hands have always itched so irrepressibly to throw something like that, knocking a stoically calm man out of his rut.

When you saw that Neuvillette had read the message, but had been silent for ten minutes, you almost thought that he had just decided to ignore your prank, but you had no idea what was really going on. After opening your message, Neuvillette just froze, not understanding what he should reply or do. It's the first time this has happened to him, and he's really discouraged.

The most respected and responsible judge doesn't say a word, just staring at his phone for ten minutes? This definitely doesn't go unnoticed. Although he is not particularly sociable, worried colleagues still wonder if everything is all right with him, finally bringing the poor confused Neuvillette out of his stupor. His head really had thoughts of consulting with someone on this topic, but he decides that this question is still too intimate to ask it to an insufficiently close person, so he has no choice but to solve this puzzle on his own and briefly unsubscribe to you that he'll be at home soon, before silently leaving the office.

To say that you were shocked to see Neuvillette on the doorstep of your shared house as soon as possible after receiving his message is to say nothing. But what struck you even more was when he hurriedly threw off his suit, with all the seriousness that only he is capable of, silently climbing onto your bed.

— Neuvi, what are you doing? Why aren't you at work? — you interrupt the man when he was about to throw off the rest of his clothes, before pausing, giving you a puzzled look.

— I got your photo.

— Yes… and?

— I thought you wanted to have sex, so I came home.

— Is that all?..

— Yes. Isn't that what you wanted? Why are you laughing?

p.s. After half an hour of an embarrassing but laugh-provoking conversation in which you explained to Neuvillette that couples sometimes exchange intimate photos while away from each other, it seems that the man finally realized for what purpose you committed such an uncharacteristic act for you.

Well… everyone learns from their mistakes. Next time, you might be lucky to see his inept first intimate photo if you tell him how to switch to the front camera before that.

✦ Tartaglia

art by @eriimyon

For both of you, sharing any photos when you are away from each other is quite common, but Childe was still the first to dilute your usual correspondence, accompanied by cute and funny photos of your dog and what you cooked for dinner, with something more piquant.

Your lover, without any hesitation, asked you to take a photo for him when, on another of his long business trips, he felt too lonely away from you, and didn't even think about what he might receive a refusal to his request. You can say that you are both on some kind of your common comfortable wave, so you are happy to approach the task set before you even with some degree of creativity, making a photo of your breasts covered with whipped cream for Childe.

«This could be your dessert after dinner;)», — Childe is both touched, excited and saddened by your funny photo caption. He would like to be next to you to enjoy such a tempting dessert, but all he can do is take a photo for you in return.

[Childe]: Unfortunately, i didn't have cream next to me, so this is all the dessert u can count on!

You would have laughed at his joke if the dick on his photo that Childe took for you didn't look even more attractive than any sweet thing you can imagine. This is the first time that you have to describe in words all the things that you would do with this amazing cock, but it also had its own charm.

Your correspondence eventually ended in a rather heated conversation on the phone, which also came to naught as soon as the degree of tension between the two of you was so high that the only thing coming from the speakers of your phones was only moans and heavy sighs, while you were already in complete disarray, too lost in your own obscene fantasies. Perhaps Childe has never in his life masturbated with such pleasure as to the sounds of your sweet voice, holding in his head that image of you that was captured in a racy photo taken especially for him, just as you have never experienced an orgasm from how damn sexy his muffled moans sound in the speaker of your phone.

Of course, this is still so insanely little, but since then you both have a new common entertainment that you can do on lonely evenings to get over the separation. On the other hand, you have seriously opened a real Pandora's Box, now putting the idea in Childe's head that he can tease you in this way, so be prepared for the fact that one day you will receive a dirty message from him or even just a photo at the most inopportune moment (although no one said that you can't return the favor).

p.s. if u know the author of the rest of the art, write me their nicknames in private messages, and i'll add them in the post, because I have been saving these arts for a long time ago and now cannot find their owners:(

[spideyhexx]

mdni; had to write this real quick haha

billy working for your father and you sneak out of your room at night to meet him in a clearing near your ranch. He walks up to you with a smile, "There's my beautiful girl."

"You say that too much," you tell him, he scoffs, a smile still playing on his lips. "Cause 's always true. 'nd I always want my beautiful girl."

You shove at his chest, Billy purposely stumbling back a few steps.

"Can push me away all you want, baby, I'll want you just as much," he chuckles as he says it.

"Does it turn you on, too?" Your eyes flit down below his belt where his hard-on is showing then back to his eyes. Billy smiles more. "Oh, you caught me."

You smirk at him and move up closer until you can feel his body heat, his hands moving to your hips in an instant. But your hand rests right against his bulge, pressing your palm on it ever so slightly. "You're gettin' me riled up, we don't have much time," he mutters, clearing his throat, trying to feign some composure.

"Oh, I know, Billy. I know," and you press your palm firmer against him, rubbing him slowly over his pants, Billy's body involuntarily moving forward, his forehead pressing to yours.

"'M gonna go insane," he mumbles, his eyes fluttering shut as you continue palming him, only feeling him get harder. Billy tries to keep his breathing steady, but he lets out a shaky breath and you chuckle.

"Laughin'? You're laughin' at me?" His tone sounds annoyed, but he's smiling, his nose bumping yours the moment your fingers begin to fiddle with the buttons of his pants, undoing them. You peck his lips as you slip your hand into his pants. He bites his lip, stifling a groan when your hand wraps around his hard and pretty cock, stroking your hand up and then back down along the length of it.

You look down to watch yourself touch him, catching the sight of his tip and the way his hips press closer to your touch. You think to tease him more about how aroused he is this quick but you bite your tongue, focusing on how warm he feels, how thick he feels in your hand. Billy's jaw clenches as he grits his teeth. "You can make noise, there's no one here," you tell him, and he nods. "I know, sweetheart, but I can't risk it."

And it makes your heart drop for a moment, but then part of you savors the way his face screws up in pleasure. His teeth bite down on his lip as you quicken your pace, your hand jerking him just the way he likes it, your thumb swirling over his leaking tip and spreading the precum on his dick, which at the very least earns you a little moan from him. With each stroke, he wants to melt more into your touch. You take a second to focus on the head again, pressing your thumb to it, swirling your finger once more, and smiling as he tries to hold back his moans.

He closes his eyes a little tight, he grunts when you reach further down to caress the pads of your fingertips against his balls before returning to his cock.

"You're trouble," he mumbles and you feel the urge to shove him again but you hold back. "Yeah? Is it worth it?" You squeeze him in a gentle touch, stilling your hand. Billy opens his mouth to say something but then you start up your movements again, your grasp on him firm and purposeful as you jerk him, his hips trying to buck again but he stops himself, his words dying in the back of his throat.

So he just nods, sloppily kissing the corner of your lips, "I missed," he whispers. You giggle and kiss him correctly, swallowing a moan as you pump your hand faster. "'M warnin' you, 'm close," he says against your lips.

Billy gives your bottom lip a small kiss, his breath hitching when your thumb rubs his tip again. "Want you to come for me," you whisper to him, grinning at the way he shifts on his feet at your words.

"I will...I want to...fuck," he breathes out, leaning forward like he's gonna kiss you, but he lets out a moan instead, tipping his head back.

"I know, baby," you coo at him, leaning your head to his shoulder and looking down at your hand and his cock, the slight wet sound of your actions, your heavy breathing, and his muffled moans are the only things that can be heard right now. His cock twitches in your hand, "c'mon, come for me. Please?"

And you tilt your head up to look at him just as he looks down at you. Your eyes are big and your bottom lip jutting out just a little does it for him. Billy lets out a low grunt as he spills into your hand, no doubt making a mess of his pants as his come spurts out of him.

"Fuckin'...trouble," he mutters and shakes his head as he looks down at the mess, then at you as you remove your hand, licking his release off of your fingers with your eyes glued to his.

"Think your father would mind if I keep you out just a little longer?" He's joking, your father not even knowing you're there right now, but you shrug, quirking your lips into a smile as you start to walk away.

Billy doesn't let you get far, running over and wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you up, spinning you around. "No fuckin' way you're leavin' like that, get your damn pants off."

let's chat about billy, here :)

[greycaelum]

imagine past/young gojo and reader go into the future and meet the future gojo and reader with the kids and shi

Kaleidoscope Series—Clouds and Mochi Chapters: { Sweet Things }

—Gojo Satoru X Wife Reader

𑁍 Synopsis:

2016... The paycheck you got yesterday was dated 2010. "This is crazy..." Is this even possible? Your knees faltered, staggering back as you reread the paper. You have fallen into the wrong timeline. Did the curse have so much power to send you far to the present? How are you gonna go back?

𑁍 Genre: fluff, time-leap

𑁍 WC/CW/TW: (1.4k)—/ glimpse of teen Satoru, teen reader, the reader got sucked in a curse's domain, clingy Satoru—/

𑁍 A/N: For some reason, there seems to be a number that likes this trope (I have two more of the same request in the inbox). This is not my forte, so sorry for the very long wait dear. I'll post the next part in Satoru's POV. This will be a three-shot I guess.

"Neh, can you fight?" A 19-year-old Satoru held his breath as he asks the girl he's been wanting to talk to for years now. "I can train you," he added.

"No, but if you do that stunt again I'm gonna knee you where the sun doesn't shine." You smiled sweetly at the male, contrasting with the blank look in your eyes. 

Satoru's heart only shivered. Please, you have to stop being so adorable it's making his heart go batshit pounding.

"Yaga-san, I'm going. Please wire my payment to the usual account." You bowed at the older male chanting to let down a curtain. You move to get out before the partition touched the ground.

"Oi!" Satoru almost choked on himself watching you turn your back on him. Not so fast pretty girl. Not when he's spent years looking at you from afar. He stopped you and handed over the blue folding umbrella.

"Sorry about that, I'm Gojo Satoru, and take this. It's going to rain," Satoru smiled and reach for your hand, depositing the umbrella before you could reply, and ran back into the curtain. He bit his lips, grinning to himself so badly he feels like he wants to roll on the ground. Damn it! You're just so cute. Seconds later small droplets started to fall.

That was how you "first" met the annoying but thoughtful menace. But little did you know...

Little by little he meets you more frequently in the missions, being a window, you're the first in the scene before the managers and sorcerers arrive. And it was supposed to be a normal mission and the sorcerers were just a bit late when you got entangled in the domain, with no way out. Just when your eyes are fully engulfed in the bottomless pit, a dash of white hair rushes forward and a shout called you.

"Y/n! Wake up, hey grab on me!" A crisp profanity flew out of the rude mouth. You swam into consciousness and gasped for oxygen.

You thought you're gonna die. That wasn't the first time you put down a curtain for a special grade curse but it sure will be the closest you get to dying. The curse messes up space and time. After regaining your breath, your eyes fluttered open and met the thick foliage of trees staring back at you.

The sound of loud children nearby occupied your hearing as you swam into full consciousness. This is Jujutsu Tech's grounds, the scenery is familiar but you don't know where it will lead since Master Tengen's barrier changes every day leading to different kinds of places to keep intruders from invading the school.

You started walking until you find yourself at the door of the mountain, towards the city. You look down at your dirty clothes and sighed. Perhaps getting a shower first makes sense. You hailed a cab and gave your address.

"!?"

The three-story building you're living in is nowhere and it was replaced by a fancy-looking cafe.

Les Sucreries

"What is going on?" You remember walking up and going out of your apartment this morning. You can't be in the wrong place since the ice cream parlor you love is right in front and a few blocks is the cafe you are working on part-time. 

"Ah, Miss. If you'd like please check out this flier it's time-limited so make sure to drop your entry!" A lad skip up to you and extended a flier then ran away.

Free Bouquet for the first three visitors... Fleur-de-Lis Bouquets. Only until July 27, 2016...

2016...

The paycheck you got yesterday was dated 2010.

"This is crazy..." Is this even possible?

Your knees faltered, staggering back as you reread the paper. You have fallen into the wrong timeline. Did the curse have so much power to send you far to the present? How are you gonna go back?

If in 2016 your apartment is not there anymore... Does that mean you finally got to buy your own house? What course did you take in college? Did you finally get a decent boyfriend?

A blush rose to your face. Why of all things did you have to think of that? You should first find a way home before worrying about that. Maybe going back to Jujutsu Tech will help. You started walking in the direction of the college.

The cafe door opened and a lady in a barista's apron peeked outside. The baby she's carrying on her hip calmed down when she walked out of the cafe. 

"Did you see someone we know Kou-chan?" The lady chuckled as she tickled her baby boy with striking white hair while he tried to babble and pointed his chubby finger at the lady walking away.

"Mama..."

"Mnn? Mama's right here sweetheart." 

II

Ahhh, this is crazy. The Tokyo of 2010 and Tokyo of 2016 look so alike and not at the same time.

You walked and walked and stopped.

That striking white hair that stands out of the crowd, lanky figure, and cool minty scent. The man is walking on the other side of the road and stopped on the red lights.

"Gojo?"

Your hands immediately flew to cover your mouth. He's wearing a weird white bandage over his eyes and his hair is fluffed up by the constricting cloth. But it's him! He looks just a 'bit' more handsome and mature...

Shit! You smacked your head. This is not the time for those thoughts.

And you'd never admit it to him or else his ego will gloat and you won't hear the end of it. Sometimes you wonder if ever someone has duct taped his mouth because he's so noisy and annoying.

Anyways, you can't help but trail after Gojo. Surely he'll help you if you just approach him. Everyone says he has a bad personality but when you first met him, he may sound condescending yet he ran after you to give you an umbrella because it was going to rain. That was thoughtful of him.

He's not that so bad... You thought and sighed. He may have the answer on how you could come back home. But at the same time, you're a little curious about how he turned out 6 years later. Just a little curious. After you're satisfied you'll approach him!

Come to think of it... Is he married? He should be 24 right now... It's quite young to be married yet but knowing that he came from the Gojo Clan and on top he's the heir it's not surprising if he already has an arranged marriage partner.

What does she look like? She must have a very unique curse technique and be from a prestigious clan.

Argh! Stop thinking about that Y/n. I need to go home. You steeled your thoughts.

Mustering up your courage you ran to the nearest pedestrian line and ran after Gojo but he walks damn fast.

"Damn, those lanky legs." You panted and look around only to realize you're back to where you were before. 

Les Sucreries

That's French... The name fits Gojo very much.

What is he doing here? Overcame by curiosity, you entered the cafe and sat on the farthest table. Will he recognize you?

That was when a woman came down the stairs, wearing a plain brown apron. She didn't notice you because she was focused on the man leaning on the stairs. The man was Gojo.

And the woman... was you...?

Your jaw dropped and took another look at the woman's face. It's definitely you!

It's just that your hair is longer and your body is more mature. And there's the palpable wedding band on your left ring finger.

But that's definitely "you" standing beside the strongest sorcerer, with his hands wrapped around "your" waist as he tries to sneak a kiss.

W-What happened?

Your heart was pounding and slowly regretted entering the cafe. Not in your wildest dreams did you think this would even be a possibility. I-Is he your h-husband?

So you got married. And not just married!

You're married to Gojo.

What were you thinking?! Ahhhhh! You felt your heart like a dying fish removed from the water. This isn't real... You could feel your soul escaping from your body.

You looked up and blue eyes met you. The same arrogant smirk on his lips and he whispered something to "your" ear and kissed her temples before walking towards your direction. The future "you" went up the stairs, still uninformed that her six years younger self is here.

"You blushing Y/n-chan?" He chimed and sat on the chair across from you, flashing a devilish grin. "So... how did my lil' teen crush get here?"

—GreyCaelum

PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME

Check out the Masterlist for more

All rights and credits of the Jujutsu Kaisen character(s) mentioned images(s) and songs(s) used, belongs to their respective owner(s)

General/Kaleidoscope Series Taglist: @ice-icebaby @aeanya @gummy-dummy @tender-rosiey @lexiene @nevermoresworld

[muchosbesitos]

could you make a miguel x chubby reader where he’s the readers mortal enemy as he’s the ruler of a much larger kingdom but he wants an alliance for some totally random reason and the reader is completely oblivious to the reasoning behind his actions?

ik it’s dead specific but yh

yes, your majesty

pairing: king miguel o’hara x chubby princess reader

contents: mirror sex, doggy, breeding kink (if you squint), and arranged marriage

author’s note: so this wasn’t exactly like the request (i’m sorry) but i hope you enjoy regardless :)

word count: 4.7K+

Sounds of screaming and agony awoke Miguel up from his slumber, springing up in his bed covered in a cold sweat. If he tried hard enough, he could usually hear the word 'help!' escaping from his brother's mouth. The sounds had been engraved in his mind for so long that he could usually fall asleep soon after the dreams, but the sweet relief of sleep didn't hit him no matter how much he tossed and turned. He'd been so lost in his mind that he'd forgotten about the woman laying down next to him, her presence providing no comfort towards the situation.

"Sire, sorry to disturb your sleep but your father wishes to have a word with you," one of the maids called out, her fingers gently tapping against his door. "I'll be right there," Miguel responded, rubbing his hand over his eyes as the sun peeked through the white silk curtains. He got up from his bed, pulling on the first pair of pants that he could find before taking out his wallet. "How much do I owe you for the night?" he asked the woman laying on the bed, her eyes barely getting adjusted to the light. She looked visibly disappointed that he was pushing her away but she was quick to hide her reaction.

"Two hundred," she responded, brushing her hair off to the side as she zipped up the dress she'd worn last night. "I trust that this won't get out to the press," he warned her, passing her three hundred dollar bills before walking back to his closet to get a shirt. Once he finished making himself presentable, the woman had already left without another word. Miguel walked down the halls of the palace, the portraits of him and his brother haunting him as he walked to his father's office. Before he had the chance to knock, his father had already told him to come inside.

The walls of the room seemed to be closing in as Miguel looked over at his father, meeting his sharp green eyes. "Sit down, we have a lot to talk about," his father motioned him to the seat in front of his desk, Miguel’s feet begrudgingly taking him to the spot. "I hope you know how expensive these little habits of yours are getting. You think that you're being sneaky but you're not," George started off, not bothering to look over at Miguel anymore as he started reading off a report. "I don't see how it's a concern. The press doesn't know anything about them," Miguel responded, folding his arms across his chest as he leaned back on the chair.

"It will be a concern when you're engaged," his father deadpanned, finally looking up from the report at him. Miguel couldn't help but start laughing at the absurdity of the situation, his chuckles dying down after he saw the look on his father's face. "Engaged? And to who?" Miguel decided to entertain the situation, even if he was certain he wouldn't go through with it. "The youngest princess of Nova Atlantea," George responded, his disgust evident at the way that he even uttered the words. Miguel took a couple seconds to let it register in his brain, laughing once more as he stared at his father. You can't expect me to marry her. The kingdom has Gabriel under captivity if you recall."

"Which should be enough incentive for you to get married to my daughter," the king from Nova Atlantea bellowed, King James, walking in and sitting next to Miguel. Miguel glanced over at him, motioning him to continue with the statement. "Your kingdom has plenty of resources to offer, from military equipment to natural resources, while we have your brother. I’d say it's a pretty even deal," the king added, a devilish smile appearing on his smile after he finished speaking. Miguel’s teeth grinded together, looking back at his father for some kind of backup to no avail.

Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose as he thought about what the two men were telling him, looking down at the floor like he wished for it to open and shallow him up. “I do have one request for the marriage. I’d like for my daughter to remain blissfully unaware of what's taking place here. Make her believe that you've been longing for her since you first saw her or something," the king spoke up, making Miguel look up. Even though the idea of marrying his rival filled him up with inexplicable rage, he was also aware that it was his fault that Gabriel had been captured. "I suppose that sounds like a fair arrangement then."

Miguel hesitated to sign the treaty that was placed in front of him a couple minutes later, his hand shaking as he held the pen in his hand. His handwriting came out sloppy as he essentially signed off his freedom, locked down to the duties of the kingdom. "How do you feel about coming to dinner later? I’d love to have you as a guest," the king told him, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. It was more of an order than a request, but Miguel still found himself nodding along to what the king was saying. He waited for the heavy footsteps to fade away, going off to his chamber to analyze the situation in a more clear light.

Miguel had spent most of the day in his bed, tossing a ball up at the ceiling as the wheels in his head turned to figure out a way to get out of the situation. Unfortunately, the whole arrangement was bound by printed words thus bounding him as well to fulfill his part of the deal. Even if he was doing this to free his brother from the prison he'd been forced in, he couldn't help but think about what you would think of his deception. He got up when one of the servants came in, putting a suit down on the corner of his bed for the dinner. He begrudgingly got out of bed, running a hand through his hair while he walked into the bathroom to get ready.

You were in the middle of getting ready for the dinner, your father telling you to dress up beforehand. One of the servants came in, almost buzzing with the news that she had to share with you. "Your majesty, King O’Hara from Nueva York’s going to be at the dinner. Just so you're prepared," she told you, buttoning up the top of your dress while you viewed your appearance in the mirror. You'd never been too interested in the whole diplomacy of the kingdom, being the youngest out of your siblings, but you were aware of the fact that the kingdoms hated one another.

Your mind was running on overdrive as you walked down the stairs, seeing the king already standing there and holding his hand out for you to grab. "Your majesty," Miguel greeted you, his sultry voice melting like butter in your ears. You returned the acknowledgment, walking with him to the dining room. Your father had been frustrated after you ran off every possible suitor that he presented to you, but you never thought of him to be so desperate to seek out an alliance with the kingdom of Nueva York. The dining room was a paradox in itself, a massive room with more than thirty seats but yet only you two and your father were present in the room.

"Pass me the salt, please," your father told Miguel, thanking him once he'd gotten what he'd requested. You looked over at Miguel, the only tell that he was annoyed was the vein bulging in his forehead. You decided to break the silence, wondering why your father and Miguel were acting so cordial around one another. "Excuse me father, but why is the king of Nueva York here?" You spoke up, taking the white cloth from your lap to wipe your mouth. "I'm glad you asked, actually. He's here because the two of you are scheduled to get married by the end of the month," your father responded, your face immediately dropping at the bombshell he'd dropped.

While you'd heard about your siblings getting along with their arranged suitors and some of the romance novels you'd read presenting the idea that love was possible in those arrangements, the idea wasn't something that thrilled you in the slightest. "I thought the kingdoms hated one another," you elaborated, hoping that your father had a temporary lapse in judgement and would be reminded of their positions. "I'm aware of the previous rivalries that there might've occurred. But me and the king are willing to push those aside and unite the kingdoms as one," your father responded, speaking to you like you were one of the multiple news reporters he had to deal with rather than his daughter. "And what if I say no?"

Your father placed the fork he was holding down with force, glaring at you while Miguel was busy cutting into his piece of steak. "The deal is signed. There's no room for you to say no without a bloodshed that you'll end up being responsible for," your father told you, a finality to his voice as he spoke. You decided to remain quiet for the remainder of the dinner, your eyes occasionally drifting off to look at Miguel. You could see that he wasn't exactly eager to go along with the marriage either, but he was playing the facade very well for your father.

You headed out to the balcony after dinner, looking out as the stars shone throughout the night sky. It was the one place in the kingdom where you could see the clarity of the night, no light pollution affecting the view. You jumped a little when you felt someone's hand on your shoulder, turning around to face Miguel. He stood next to you, watching the stars by your side before turning to look at you after a while. "I'm sorry that this marriage isn't exactly what you wanted, your majesty. But I think we can get through this whole ordeal much easier if we try our best to just get along," he spoke up, just loud enough for you to hear.

"I suppose. But you'll have to stop calling me 'your majesty', my name works just fine," you responded, looking over at him. The way that the moonlight shone across his features and the way that his eyes almost seemed to compete with the stars made you realize that maybe falling in love with him wouldn't be the worst thing in the universe. At least, from the physical aspect. "What do you like to do? Just so I have an idea of what to do for our date tomorrow," he told you, his hand snaking its way down to your waist as he held you close to him. "Most of what I do is solely for the purpose of benefiting the public view of the royals. But I’d like to go out for a picnic with you if that's something you'd be willing to do."

The two of you kept talking for most of the night, simply getting to know one another and you found yourself not hating the encounter completely. While you weren't head over heels for what he shown you today, you were interested in uncovering more details about him and his life. He left the castle after the lights had been turned off, leaving you out in the balcony with your thoughts. You looked down at him as he walked through the castle grounds, waving over at him once he turned around. If his eyes didn't beat the splendor of the stars, his smile while he waved back at you certainly did.

A loud knock on your door awoke you the next day, one of the servants poking their head through your bedroom door. "Your majesty, sorry to disturb your slumber but King O’Hara is downstairs waiting for you," she announced, shutting the door after she finished speaking to let you get ready. You got up from the comfort of your sheets, walking into the bathroom to get ready for the day. Your mind began running through all the different possibilities of what was the king's intention through going with this, your mind going back to the fact that his brother was a prisoner in the castle's gallows.

Miguel ended up taking you to the lakeside in his kingdom, a blanket set up with some food on it. You figured that you would disclose the information about his brother's whereabouts, not wanting to force him into the marriage despite the document your father mentioned. "You're agreeing to this because my father promised you Gabriel’s freedom, correct?" You inquired, watching as his brows furrowed before he schooled his expression to return back to normal. He didn't say anything to confirm or deny your suspicions, but he didn't really need to.

"I can show you where's located after we're done with the date, I don't feel comfortable holding someone's life on the line just for the sake of marriage," you told him, pouring in a bit of the champagne he brought into the glass. "You don't have to do that," he spoke up, his voice drifting off with the wind with how quiet he was being. "But I want to. My father tends to make agreements without going through with it," you added, handing him a glass of champagne. Though the conversation from earlier lingered, you ended up enjoying the rest of the evening with him by the lakeside.

The two of you ended up at the palace a couple hours later, your heels clicking on the stairway down to the basement. Miguel followed behind you, staying as quiet as possible just in case that the guards were present. You knew that the guards were out on their break but you couldn't help but be amused at the sight of the giant of a man sneaking around like a mouse. You grabbed the keys from one of the drawers, guiding him to the cell that Gabriel was currently being held. While most of the people that were captured in the castle deserved their fate, Gabriel had been caught for running around in the kingdom as a teenager.

You opened the door to his cell, watching as Gabriel’s gaze adjusted to the lights turning on. He jumped up to his feet when he realized that it wasn't the guards bringing him food, his arms wrapping around Miguel once he saw him. "Mi hermano. Cuánto te extrañé," Gabriel whispered, engulfed in Miguel’s body by the tightness of the hug. (my brother. how i missed you) "Lo siento por dejarte tirado," Miguel’s voice cracked as he spoke, his voice sounding raw from the sheer shock. (i’m sorry for leaving you behind) You stood guard as the brothers had their moment, looking out through the door just to make sure that nobody was coming nearby. "Aorry to ruin the moment but the guards are scheduled to come back in about five minutes," you spoke up, leading them out of the castle.

"Gracias. I appreciate the times that you brought me food and now for freeing me," Gabriel spoke up, turning to look back at you with shiny eyes. You'd taken the responsibility of giving Gabriel food when the guards forgot, which was most of the time since the viewed the prisoners as something less than the corpses underneath the castle. Miguel turned to look at you, a softness in his eyes as he took you in. "Thank you for everything, your majesty," he told you, walking out with Gabriel afterwards. You couldn't help but feel bad as you saw Gabriel limping alongside Miguel, Miguel’s arm wrapped around his shoulders as he helped him maintain his balance.

You were awaken from your nap after the brothers left by your father's screaming, his hands in his hair as he paced throughout the halls of the palace. "What did you do with the prisoner?! There's no way in hell he's going to get married to you now!" Your father bellowed as you walked out of your room, shaking your shoulders out of anger. "I don't know what you're talking about," you tried to deflect from the accusation, pushing him off you when your father was called by one of the maids. He turned to give you a dirty look, walking off with the maid to do what he was beckoned to do.

A week passed by since the last time you saw Miguel, expecting him to end the marriage arrangement but it was still on. You were expecting that he end things after what he wanted, but the announcement was still set for the union of the two kingdoms. Your father was still wary behind every single one of your actions, keeping guards lingering behind you despite how sleek he thought he was being. Now it was time for the two of you to announce your engagement to the world, every member of the press surrounding the kingdoms invited to the party. Your father was stressing out over the party, making sure that everything was up to standards and that every important person had rsvp'd.

Your maids helped you to button up the dress you had on, the dress making you look like a princess from a fairytale. The red dress clinged to every single one of your curves as you headed out to the ballroom, seeing that everyone had already come inside. Miguel came over to you, offering you his arm to wrap around before he lead you inside. The reporters began taking pictures of the two of you, the flash of the cameras almost blinding you as you walked through the crowd. You sat down next to your father on the throne, Miguel standing next to you. your father welcomed the crowd, his voice echoing throughout the room as he got to the point of what the party is about.

You spent the party talking with Miguel, spending most of the afternoon by his side. "So.. why'd you keep the arrangement going despite you getting what you wanted?" You asked him once the reporters were out of earshot, taking a sip from your glass of wine. "I have my reasons, your majesty. Plus, I've been liking getting to know you," he responded, waving over for Gabriel to sit down in front of him. You saw through the corner of your eye that your father was scowling, his eyes full of bitter venom as he saw Gabriel interacting with Miguel. You turned to look back at the boys, talking to them about the things to do around the kingdom and what your favorite views were around to diverge from what your father was doing.

"May I have this dance, your highness?" Miguel asked you, extending his hand out for you to grab. You took hold of his hand, letting him guide you to the middle of the dance floor. You placed one of your hands on his shoulder, the other still in his grasp as he moved you with elegance and grace to the rhythm of the classical song playing. "I thought i told you to stop calling me your majesty," you whispered in his ear, his face contorting into a smile as he twirled you around. "Yes, but you never did say anything about your highness," he responded, the dimples on his face only deepening with the way that you grumbled.

"Where'd you learn how to dance?" You asked him, watching him as he moved in synchrony to whatever song was playing. "My mother taught me before she died. She used to say that the two most important things as a potential suitor were knowing how to dance and how to treat a woman correctly," he told you, his hand wrapped around your waist as he pulled you close to his body. You leaned in when he dipped his head down, pressing your lips against his. The cameras started surrounding the two of you but you couldn't think of anything else apart from how good and how right his lips felt against yours.

The rest of the party was uneventful, though Miguel managed to keep it interesting with his stupid jokes and remarks. One of the things that you liked the most about him was that he found a way to be funny, without even putting that much effort into the jokes he was making. He got up when his assistant came over, announcing that it was time for them to depart. He dipped his head down, his lips pressing against the back of your hand. Gabriel let out a small wolf whistle to tease him, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he made his way out of the ballroom. "I'll see you at the wedding, your highness."

While you weren't looking forward to the wedding at first, you could say that you were slowly falling in love with who and what Miguel presented himself to be. The wedding ceremony had been short, mostly just for the sake of getting the two kingdoms united rather than the unison of the two beings involved. You'd convinced your father not to do a huge party afterwards, wanting to keep it as discreet and short as possible. The ride back home to the castle was quiet, Miguel’s hand lingering on your thigh as the ring sparkled from the sun's rays. You waved at some of the citizens that had come out to see the ceremony from the outside, watching their faces light up when you acknowledged them.

"I don't think you should do that," you told Miguel just as soon as he made the motion to carry you up the stairs, feeling a bit embarrassed as you looked over at him. "And why not? You're my wife now," he responded, his brows slightly furrowed in confusion. "I just think that maybe you'll struggle too much getting me up the stairs. It's fine, I can walk," you assured him, letting out a small yelp when he took you into his arms. You wrapped your hands around his neck as he led you inside the castle with ease, his footsteps remaining even as he took you up the stairs. You were aware of the fact that he was strong, you could practically see the way his muscles bulged underneath the suits he wore but few people had done this before with you.

"Don't ever insinuate that I can't carry you around because you're too heavy. Never that, mi vida," he told you once he set you down on the bed, his lips trailing down from your chin to your neck. He left little marks in his wake, soft moans escaping from your lips as you gripped onto his hair. He stopped for a moment, holding your hips as he looked down at you. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to," he assured you, his hands gently squeezing your hips to accentuate his point. "I want you to fuck me, please."

He brought over the mirror that you changed in front of, putting in front of your bed before he went back to kissing your neck. "Look at how pretty you look. I’m gonna fuck you until your little head gets rid of those stupid ideas that you're heavy," he whispered, his teeth gently biting onto the side of your neck as he left his mark. You simply nodded in response, your mind struggling to compute the right words to respond to him. He brought you over to the bed, placing you down on your back as he pushed the skirt part of the dress up. "Such pretty white panties, are these all for me?" He asked you, his finger curling around the band of them. "All for you."

He slid them down with ease, his mouth trailing up your leg while his hand massaged the other one at the same time. He left open mouthed kisses on his way up, his lips wrapped around your thighs as he kissed the inner part. "I wanna taste your pussy so bad, but we have plenty of time for that later. The only place you'll be coming on tonight is my cock," he whispered into your skin like a promise, unbuckling his belt and sliding his pants down. He helped you with the process of taking off the wedding dress once he finished undressed, leaving you only in the garter and veil.

He pumped himself with one hand, gesturing for you turn around with the other one. You were face to face with your reflection, being able to see everything that Miguel was doing as he slowly pushed his cock inside. Though your cunt was wet from the time that he took kissing you, it still felt like he was stretching you past your every limit. Your grip on the sheets below you tightened as he pushed his cock deeper inside, your velvet walls engulfing his cock every time that he moved. He bottomed out after your pussy had opened up a bit more for him, his hand gripping the bottom of your veil to make you look up.

"You see that? You look so pretty when you're all stuffed up with my cock. I wish you could see yourself the same way that J do you," he told you, looking straight at your face in the mirror. And for a moment there, you could see yourself the same way that he saw you. You looked past the imperfections that usually tormented you, seeing yourself as someone that's worthy of everything that's happening. Miguel took his cock out and you were about to protest, his cock coming back inside killing the words in your throat. You looked at yourself in the mirror as he slowly thrusted into you, his hands now gripping the globes of your ass.

Your juices flowed down from your thighs down to the sheets as he sped up and you found yourself unable to break the gaze with him that held through the mirror. Your mouth parted as he pushed deeper inside, the tip of his cock almost near your cervix. Not only was his cock big, but the girth that it held was only providing you extra pleasure. "Such a gorgeous pussy, tightening up all around me like that," he babbled, your mouth contorting into an 'o' the faster he thrusted into you. His heavy balls slapped against your pussy every time he went inside, the angle allowing for them to hit your clit.

You brought your hand down to your clit, rubbing small circles around the nub as he thrusted into you, his pace unrelenting. While you had expected for this to be an exchange of love between the two of you, it turned out to be the result of just sheer desperation for one another. You didn't mind it though, not with the way that your back was arching as you pushed your ass back into him. You felt your vision start to blur from the tears streaming down your cheeks, his claws slightly digging into your ass. The pain contorted with the pleasure, the coil inside of you threatening to snap with how tight it was becoming.

He brought his foot up on the bed, the new angle allowing for him to hit your g-spot every time his cock went back inside of you. Your nails were digging into the sheets, your forehead covered in sweat as he fucked deeper and faster into you. "Oh fffuck, right there. Please don't stop, I'm so close," you whimpered out, your mind completely blank from anything but just coming around his cock. Your walls clamped around him tightly, the coil inside of you snapping once your walls unclenched. Your juices coated his shaft completely, some of it dripping down to the silk underneath the two of you. Miguel continued to thrust into you as he fucked you through the orgasm, his thrusts starting to get sloppy and more vigorous.

His cum painted your walls white as he came, his seed shooting deep into your cervix with the hope that you'd end up bearing his child soon. He took his cock out of your pussy, looking at your blissed out expression through the mirror before turning you over. He leaned down, giving you a small kiss on the lips when you felt his cock already starting to harden up once more for the second round. "I did say I was gonna fuck you dumb, mi amor," he whispered, his lips coming down to your neck as he sucked on the skin there.

[etfrin]

❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — chapter nineteen | coriolanus snow

「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 NSFW | implied murder, spit play (?¿), choking, Coriolanus Snow, mentions of Dr. Gaul, everyone is crazy here, implied stalking | lmk if I forgot anything

「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 they talk <33

「ᴀ/ɴ:」 remember to give me your feedback, reblog and comment your thoughts and my leg has cramps help-

Beta read by the lovely 💘 @nowitsmissing 🫶🏾

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Coriolanus felt his air being taken away from him. He puts his hand around the wrist of yours but doesn't attempt to push you away. He knew he easily could, however, he rather liked being under you. He parts his lips to take in much-needed air. But you had other plans in your mind.

You grin, a bit feral, much like him, Coryo noticed. And you leaned in to spit in his open mouth. He groaned, his eyes closing, his hips bucking up to look for friction. He was slapped again for his actions.

“Stop that,” you said, breathless, your eyes wide with anger or lust, he couldn't be sure.

He lets out a chuckle. Fuck, he missed you.

His insane dove.

You choke him harder, making him gasp. He doesn't stop you. Coriolanus could see the bruises formed around your neck. Snow had no right to stop you. He lets you be.

“You and Sejanus had no right to blow me off like that. I disobeyed orders by contacting you and you never thought of sending one letter! ONE! And then you have the nerve to react like this around me.” You narrowed your eyes.

“Remember the girl you had kissed, Coryo?” You whispered, leaning in. His lips were an inch away from yours to meet. “Haven't seen her around now, have you?” You smirked and he knew. He knows the look in your eyes, it was the same he had when he first had blood on his hands.

“You're mine, you have seemed to forget that after a few measly months. You're pathetic, Coryo.”

You crossed a line saying that. Coriolanus tightens the grip he had on your hand and forces it away from his strength. You cry out from the pain. It was going to bruise, just like your neck. It didn't matter to him.

“I am pathetic,” he mused, “I sent letter after letter. I tried getting over you and I failed miserably.”

“Well, you shouldn't have!” You angrily spit out, “Nobody can ever compare to me.”

Coriolanus pushed you away from his lap. He ignored his cock, straining against his pants as he rolled his eyes. “You're too much.”

“I am perfect.”

“Then you should have tried harder to contact me! Do you know how it was? Not seeing you, not hearing your voice, unable to touch your skin! I have missed you. I was dying without you! And what were you doing? Playing science with crazy Gaul.”

“Gaul is the reason you're here and not dead! You messed with her games and I told you there would be consequences!”

“I had no choice,” he yelled out.

“Why not!?”

“Because I love you. I love you and you're mine. I had to win if I wanted a life with you. A proper life worthy of our standings. There was never a choice. Not when it comes to you.”

You let out a wounded noise. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, your legs around his waist. You had him trapped. He liked the embrace. He hugs you back.

“You're everything,” he admits shamefully.

“You're not forgiven,” you sound like you're crying, he could feel his shirt getting wet. “She was punished for tasting your lips. You will be punished for allowing that.”

“I love you too, Coryo, but you need your lesson.”

Coriolanus nods. Even if he doesn't want to. He knew he didn't have a choice. He will take whatever you give him. Whether it be pain or love. “Okay, dove,” he whispered.

Then he remembered about the night of the gala. The anger you had shared with him, the truth you confined in. “Tell me what you meant by rigging the assignment of tributes,” he said.

You were caught off guard. “Uh.. uhm… I might have cut a deal with the Dean to give us the tributes from the same districts. He was supposed to give us tributes from a better district. Instead, he decided to fucks us over, and we did the same by bettering the games he hated.”

He takes in the explanation and realizes one thing.

“You knew.”

He adds, shocked, “You knew we were soulmates.”

You nod, “Yes. Ever since we were kids. You ran away from me the moment you saw the number on my wrist. The next day your wrist was burnt in an accident. I am many things, Coriolanus, but I am not stupid.”

Coriolanus feels guilt and embarrassment fester in his heart. He was ashamed of his past self. “I am sorry,” he mumbled, unable to meet your eyes.

“You're forgiven.” You smile, soft and gentle.

You tilt his head up and press a kiss to his lips.

“Tell me about district thirteen,” he said, wanting to know if the rumors were true. Especially since you had mentioned it before.

You freeze and Coriolanus catches the panic in your eyes for a split second before you relax. You didn't bother lying to him, knowing that he would catch you.

“I can't. Capitol orders. Dr. Gauls' order.”

Coriolanus clenched his jaw but nodded.

“Is that why you are here?” He asked.

“I am here because of you, that was a means to an end.”

You said it so sincerely that Coriolanus felt his cheeks burn and painted in crimson red. “I didn't get your letters,” he said in a lower voice. “I thought you abandoned me.”

“I have done many things to have you, Coriolanus Snow. Leaving you isn't in my cards.” You admitted shamelessly, not caring that he can see your obsession with him. He thrived in it so there wasn't any problem.

“I sent one every week despite Dr. Gaul forbidding it.”

“Dr. Gaul,” he thought out loud, “She stopped those letters from reaching me and vice versa.”

You frown, and he thinks you'll defend the scientist until you nod. “Makes sense, that bitch is controlling and paranoid. But there's nothing I wrote in the letters that would get us in trouble.”

You raised an eyebrow in a silent question. Coriolanus answers, “I didn't either.”

You get off his lap and stand up. You wince, raising your (his) t-shirt to check the wound he has given you. CS. There was a smile on your face as you ran your thumb around the letters. “You're insane,” you mutter affectionately.

Snow shrugs in response. He had no argument to refute your fact. “It looks great on you,” he said instead, a bit of pride creeping in his voice.

You laugh in response, “I know.”

You pick up the pocket knife, checking the blade out. You go to Coriolanus and press the blade to his jaw. You don't cut the skin. You smirk, heat in your eyes as you say, “My initials will look great on you too. But not today.”

He felt disappointed.

“When then?” Coriolanus asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

“After your punishment is over,” you said, opening your suitcase to change into something that would hide the obvious bruises on your skin.

“I won't forgive you until I have you crying on your knees, Coriolanus,” you grin, “You have to realize that your actions have severe consequences.”

You walked out of the door, leaving him alone on the bed with a crazed mind and an overwhelmed body.

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