#this probably hints to Secrets being found?

[darkdragon768]

Looking up the different routes on the deltarune wiki and... yeeaa I would have never discovered the snowgrave route on my own.

[mariasont]

hi pookie! <3

i loved loved loved the recent lipgloss fic! could you write smth about perfume? like bimbo! reader smells sweet asf and all of a sudden reid (or hotch) comes into the office smelling suspiciously sweet

tytyty!! <333

Suspiciously Sweet - S.R

a/n: hiiiiiii pookie!!!!!!! thank u so much for requesting i loved this lololol

masterlist

pairings: spencer reid x bimbo!receptionist!reader

warnings: fluffiest fluff, established relationship, spencer's relationship almost being exposed, hotch saving his ass, hotch hinting to having a secret girlfriend (aka my girl bimbo!assistant)

wc: 1.3k

You had a very distinct scent. This wasn't a bad thing, no, far from it. It was sweet and intoxicating, it reminded him of ripe peaches in the height of summer and cherries soaked in syrup, with a hint of something citrusy that reminded him of lazy afternoons in the sun. Was that too poetic? Spencer wasn't sure.

He noticed it everywhere. In the office, where it announced your arrival before you said a word. He noticed it at home. His pillows, his sheets, even the collar of the sweater you'd borrowed once — it was all steeped in the same honeyed scent that lingered after you left his bed, as if you were something he couldn't wash away — not that he wanted to.

This was why Spencer had started sleeping in on weekends when you stayed over. It wasn't laziness, not exactly, but how could he resist staying wrapped up in the thing that reminded him most of you?

Especially on those mornings when you were still half-asleep and clingy, burrowing into him with sleepy little hums, like you were trying to fuse yourselves together, and somehow, it worked. Your scent didn't just stick to his things, it stuck to him, sinking into his skin and leaving him a little dazed by the time you finally rolled out of bed.

Sure, he could rationalize it with some scientific explanation about heat transfer, molecules, or something equally clinical. But science (and he hated to admit this) didn’t account for how it made him feel.

Unfortunately, those feelings, didn't do him any good when one of those slow mornings he was becoming so fond of turned into an emergency call from Hotch about a case.

Now, he found himself here, hunched over the impossibly small sink in the jet's cramped bathroom, scrubbing his hands raw for what felt like fortieth time today. The scent wouldn't budge. It was as though it had soaked into his skin. He knew it was his fault, he couldn't seem to stop his hands from roaming across every inch of your body morning.

It wasn't that he minded smelling like you, but focusing on case details and running probability algorithms became infinitely harder when every breath reminded him of how tightly you had wrapped yourself around him just hours before.

He let out a bated breath, shutting off the sink before pushing his way into the main cabin of the jet. He found his way to his favorite seat, third back on the left side, which happened to be located far enough from the engines to minimize auditory distractions.

Morgan looked up, sniffing once as Spencer slid by. "Man, I don't know what it is, but something smells good in here."

Spencer tensed, his stomach dropping. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and he fought the urge to whip around. Surely it wasn't that strong. It couldn't be.

Rossi glanced up from his crossword, brows furrowing.

“Huh. I was thinking the same thing. It’s faint, but it’s nice. Like fruit or… maybe something floral?” Rossi’s nose wrinkled as he added, “Certainly an improvement over Morgan’s cologne.”

Spencer ducked his head so fast it could've looked like a nod, his cheeks burning as he avoided everyone's gaze.

JJ came out of the coffee area moments later, glancing at the case file in her hand as she passed him. She stopped abruptly, sniffed the air, then frowned.

"Wow, Spence, you smell really good. Did you finally cave and buy cologne?"

Spencer blinked up at her, every ounce of blood in his body rushing to his face.

"Uh, no," he said flatly, trying to mask the embarrassment. "I suppose I woke up smelling like this."

Technically not a lie.

He was acutely aware of everyone's eyes on him. Emily tilted her head, brow furrowing before a wide grin spread across her face. Not a good sign, he concluded.

"Wait a second," she said, pointing at Spencer. "That smells exactly like outside of Cruz's office. I pass it all the time."

Spencer cleared his throat, his fingers tightening around the armrests as his mind scrambled for an explanation, any explanation, to divert their growing attention. He could practically feel the walls closing in on him. He was doomed. This was it.

Spencer’s pulse was thundering in his ears, his face still flushed, when Hotch finally set down his pen.

For a second, Spencer braced himself for the worst, the horrifying moment when even Hotch would add to his scrutiny.

"That smell? It's the same hand sanitizer Cruz keeps in his office. He offered it to me after a meeting, probably the same stuff Spencer borrowed when he spilled his coffee this morning."

Spencer looked to Hotch, mouth opening and closing before nodding as if in agreement. "Yeah, that's... probably it."

The rest of the ride passed, to Spencer’s immense relief, without further incident. Morgan gave him a few odd looks now and then, but Spencer was too preoccupied, his thoughts spinning as he tried to figure out why Hotch had saved his ass.

When the last of the team finally stepped off the plane, Spencer hung back, letting the others pass. Hotch did too, falling in step beside him. His pace was slower than usual, his gaze fixed forward, but when he spoke, his voice was loud enough for Spencer to hear.

"Word of advice, Reid, next time, carry mints and a travel sized bottle of something unscented. You'd be surprised how much that helps."

Spencer’s head whipped around, his face going a deep shade of red. Hotch, meanwhile, kept walking, his expression completely neutral, as though he hadn’t said anything at all.

—

"He said what?"

You were laughing uncontrollably, the kind of laugh that made your shoulders shake and left you gasping for air, your hands grabbing him for balance. Rollers filled your hair, a ritual you'd patiently explained to him before, and loose wisps curled around your face.

And your smile, well, he was perfectly certain it was the prettiest he'd ever seen you.

"Yup," Spencer confirmed, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

You froze mid-giggle, eyes narrowing.

"Wait, wait, wait, how does he know that? Is Hotch speaking from experience or something?" You blinked, then gasped dramatically. "Oh my gosh, what if Hotch has, like, a secret girlfriend? What if it's someone at the BAU? What if it's Garcia?"

"It's not Garcia, and it's definitely not a secret." Spencer raised an eyebrow, glancing at you as if the answer was obvious. "Hotch has been dating his assistant for years. He thinks it's some big secret, but it's... not. He picks her up lunch at least twice a week, and his closed-door meetings with her? Not as inconspicuous as he thinks."

You gasped, practically bouncing in place as you grabbed Spencer's sleeve. "Shut up! I didn't know that! I love her clothes. Do you think she'd tell me where she shops? That red skirt she wore the other day was everything."

“You don’t need any more skirts,” Spencer said, his fingers finding the sensitive spot between your hip and ribs, pinching just enough to make you squirm on the countertop. “If your closet gets any fuller, you’re going to have to rent out a second apartment just for storage.”

You giggled, tightening your legs around him and clinging to him like a koala, your arms looped snugly around his neck.

"That's why I have your apartment," you said, sticking out your tongue. "Plenty of space for my skirts, and you get to see me model them. Win-win."

"When you put in like that, it's kind of hard to say no."

He leaned in as he spoke, his lips brushing against yours softly at first, teasing and testing, like a flicker of fire before it catches. You giggled into the kiss, your laughter blending into his smile. The kiss deepened, honey-slow and sweet, golden warmth spreading through his chest as you pressed closer, closing every last bit of distance between you.

When you pulled back, his lips still tingling, you grinned. "Wow, you really do smell like me."

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[dollyichi]

A LITTLE MYSTERY NEVER HURT ANYBODY . . . pro-hero katuski bakugou x f ! actress reader. m—dni / fluff / hints of ‘tension’ and maybe suggestive… / established relationship / little smau at the end / not proofread / minors don’t read this !!

despite being a fairly new actress, you were able to catch the attention and hearts of the fans from your recent debut just two years ago. becoming a highly in-demand star, given every project possible just to be seen on the screen. however, you kept a secret. that one secret that could cause a frenzy, that the beloved actress of the nation is dating the one and only pro-hero dynamight.

they all assumed that they definitely knew the both of you are in a relationship… somehow. you had that certain glow and katsuki definitely made it sure that he’s not available. no matter how many fans tried to flirt, no matter how many interviews he’s gone through he says one thing very clear, “got a pretty girl already.” however, nobody knew it was with the two of you together.

countless articles are read about you, how you were overheard with a director from your upcoming series that you wanted to avoid any romantic scenes or a partner in general. which boosted more speculation on your ‘mysterious’ love life.

now, your manager says that she got you booked with a new project. you’ll be in a promotional shoot with a pro-hero for a fashion campaign with an upcoming designer. “that’s fine right? you’d be with someone in the shoot though.” your manager says. you shrug, looking over at the recent line the designer put out.

“it’s fine. no point in declining opportunities right?”

she nods enthusiastically, “that’s the spirit! we were actually surprised the team agreed immediately when they found out it was you. i heard they only accepted solo projects for him.”

you smile, “well whoever it’ll be i’m sure we’ll do great.”

the moment you step foot on the set, you were immediately greeted by the designer themselves. “y/n you’re so beautiful, you’re so perfect for us!”

“thank you for believing in me! please take care of me well.” you bow and was brought to your own dresser. quickly dressed in a silk robe and getting your makeup done. your hair was in curlers, the team taking their sweet time to make sure they enhanced your features for the shoot.

you hear a knock on your door, and you could hear your manager gasp when she opens it. peeking at the mirror with one eye, you see a familiar figure walking towards you, messing with the collar of his shirt.

“hey baby.” voice raspy and hoarse. now everyone in the room was shocked. looking at the two of you. to top it all off, katsuki places a quick kiss to your cheek and getting a stool to sit beside you.

your manager definitely felt like she was gonna faint. she had no idea what this was or when, or even how. everyone else was also in shock and confused, felt like time stopped somehow.

why is he now acting all lovey dovey in public? is what they all, including you, wondered.

“fuck baby you’re looking too pretty.” you giggle, trying to stay in place while the makeup artist adds their finishing touches. “thank you katsuki, no wonder you agreed to this shoot.” you say. the makeup artist finally says you’re done, you were all ready, just needed to change into the outfit.

katsuki was in a fitted velvet button up shirt with low-rise slacks. only the middle section of the shirt was buttoned, and for the first time in your career, your professionalism was definitely getting tested. just a little lower you could probably catch a glimpse of his happy trail. “who allowed you to wear that?” you motion with your head. but before he could answer you’re already turned around, moving behind the divider to dress up.

“aw come on, i know you fuckin’ like it.” he says loudly, then followed by the door closing. suddenly the staff was all on you after you stepped out. complimenting how you looked so good, how you’re going to be the new face of the brand after this. but most especially, the elephant in the room.

“i know everyone’s thinking you have a boyfriend but… dynamight?!”

“where, when, why, and how?”

“i never saw him speak that sweetly to anyone before….”

“i thought it was another celebrity! this is really unexpected.”

lots and lots of questions but they were immediately shut down by your manager who wanted to maximize the time. “we still got a shoot. y/n can tell us the details another time.” she gives you that look that reads ‘you better tell me everything’ and you give her an apologetic smile.

you take a look in the mirror, seeing how you matched with him. in a tight velvet dress that hugged your figure really well, probably a piece from the earlier collections. it’s pretty, the skirt is slanted with peaks of ruffled tulle.

you’re start walking to the set where katsuki was already waiting. “oh our princess! you look amazing.” the designer says, holding his hands to his chest. “i knew you and dynamight would look amazing together, i thank you both really.”

you grab their hands, “i’m really happy you paired me with him too!”

you approach katsuki with a smile, and he’s already grinning at you. “well shit this might be the hardest job i’ve taken yet.” he chuckles, placing a hand on your back to help you on the extravagant set.

you’re shining so bright and in your element that he’s just happy to be there. yet, the whole time he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off you, how his hold on you lingered, wanting to touch you even more, even deeper. despite the director giving clear directions that you followed with no fuss, he on the other hand just has to have a hand on you. but it definitely gave an effect on each shot.

katsuki couldn’t help but keep his eyes on you, eyes glimmering with desire. and how you’re looking at him with such a cool glare—it just felt so out of character for the both of you. who’s usually so sweet and him who’s usually so out for reach. “think i need you in this dress when i take you home.” he would whisper. and you’ll playfully hit him on his arm.

when you prepare for the next shot he’d always tell you things that’d rile you up. and when nobody’s paying attention he’d be looking you up and down. “bet you’re even prettier under this fuckin’ dress.”

even in between clothing changes you both looked picture perfect. both complementing each other’s visuals. he’d sneak you out from time to time to get a smooch here and there, resulting in the makeup artists on the set to fix him up because his and your lipsticks would smudge, wondering why he gets messed up all of a sudden.

“you’re so damn pretty baby. too bad the makeup’s gonna get ruined when we get home.”

“stop teasin’ during work kats…”

the last shot had you both seated on the carpet. it was sexy, your hand’s on his bare chest and he’s leaning in towards you with a finger under you chin. the two of you together felt magnetic. it’s so interesting to everyone in that room how the hero who’s usually uncontrollable became so compliant because if you. overall, it just felt too romantic, that petals of roses were somehow seen falling down on the both of you while you posed.

what was most unexpected was how katsuki really enjoyed being in front of a camera, as long as it’s with you (might’ve gotten a few ‘creative’ ideas too). he’s definitely making one of these photos his wallpaper when they upload it.

and the next day, that one shot trended all over the internet. blasted all over the digital billboards in the city too. finally seeing the elegant y/n who seemed to have helped show a new side of the pro-hero to the public.

showering the brand with praises and how much of a ‘genius’ they were for even choosing the two of you as the muses. because it really was just a coincidence that the owner was a fan of you both.

then there goes the online articles, the video complications, the noise that just won’t die down. tweets and photos, even a sudden rise in fanpages. dynamight and y/n, and the public that’s trying to piece every evidences of your interactions. how they were all tricked that your relationship was just under their noses. how in events you’re always seen together, or how your car was spotted in his neighborhood that one time. or when katsuki always keeps saying in interviews that his favorite shows and media always had you in it—main lead or not. the way nobody caught it even when you mentioned that dynamight was one of your favorite heroes. even showing them a small plushie charm that you carried on you hanged on your bag—everyone was stunned.

still, neither of you confirmed anything, yet.

till the moment the official account of the brand posted all the shots of you together, and it was very obvious how the two of you were actually in love, like the head over heels type.

well, the both of you are gonna have more projects together soon for sure.

bonus!

do not copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost my works

note : i really like this actress au i’m definitely gonna make more 😔🙏 different versions for sure

[randomshyperson]

The Pinning Problem - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots

Summary: There are several ways to resolve the rivalry between the Avengers that does not involve fighting. Or, the one where Wanda Maximoff likes to be pinned down by her not-so-secret crush, and somehow this becomes the whole team's problem.

words: 2.944k | warnings: a lot of sexual tension, kissing, hints of rivals to lovers, this is a crack fic - nothing here can be taken seriously, another alternative solution for civil war that’s better than what they did, nothing explicit but hints of sub!wanda.

A/N-. I found this on my draft, had to translate, and I have no idea what was the inspiration or writing process but I thought it was so funny, so here it is. The name is actually quite self-explanatory.

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad

-&-

In Wanda's defense, a sequence of events led to this unsustainable situation.

It probably started a year ago, when she had mind-tricked the team of Earth’s Mightiest Heroes and felt confident enough to try it on someone who was notoriously known for being invulnerable. It was the first time Wanda had been pinned against a wall by another person, and it was the most inopportune situation possible for any feelings other than anger and fear, so of course Wanda had never been so aroused. Things didn’t get any better after that, and in her interactions with you in the Avenger routine a while later, she would probably describe you as having some obscure desire to pin her against things.

In training, against the mat.

In the kitchen, against the counter or the fridge, with bad excuses to reach things or just because you wanted to see her blush or traumatize any team member present.

And one notable time, one that haunted her in wet dreams for weeks, against the door of the motel room you were staying in for one of the countless stakeout missions in search of clues about the Winter Soldier.

Wanda was never so grateful for a shared bathroom as the day she saw you in just a towel, hair and wet muscles exposed.

“Damn, wrong door.” You said with an innocent tone, but it didn’t seem like you had made any mistakes, the little smile giving away your true intentions.

Wanda, who had just emptied the bathroom for the next in line for the shower, clutched the towel to her body tighter, a nervous giggle escaping her.

She's never felt as powerful as she does now, using all her mental and spiritual control not to rip off those towels and grab you with the entire team to witness.

“Did you save some hot water for me, witchy?” You teased with your hand on the doorframe, too close for Wanda to breathe properly. She had to blink her concentration back, her brain barely able to focus on anything other than your inviting lips.

“Hm, I can’t say I have it.”

You lick your lips, a smile threatening to escape as Wanda's eyes followed the movement. "No problem, I need a cold shower anyway." That's what you said, using much more of her personal space than you needed to exit the room.

And for the next few weeks, Wanda could only remember that feeling, her fingers tucked deep inside her pants as she bit her lip to keep from whimpering your name to the ceiling.

The fight between Steve and Tony escalated into a catastrophe shortly after that, and Wanda had a little time to focus on other things.

That is until Clint picked her up at the Tower, and informed her that he had two stops to make. Ant-Man was the easy part, he was loud and energetic and kept Clint busy with excited questions about his life as an Avenger.

You were the proof of the gods.

With a leather jacket you got as a gift from Natasha hiding a band t-shirt that in Wanda's opinion, made you look like the most attractive person she had ever laid eyes on, you threw your backpack on the bench and squeezed in next to her.

You didn't have to press your lips to her cheek, but you did it anyway, as if you and Wanda were great friends, and you had missed her a lot in the last few weeks you hadn't seen each other with all the team's drama.

“What’s up, witchy?” It was so casual that Wanda almost believed that you two had a real relationship and not a history of arguments, teasing and staring challenges.

Clint didn't pay a second thought to the matter, he was stressed with everything that was happening to the team, and he was pleased that you were joining the fight, especially on his side. Having a demigoddess should mean an easy victory, and hopefully, without much fighting.

Staying under wraps in Europe until it was time to meet Steve at the appointed point was a minefield. Four people sharing a van, two of whom were hormonal teenagers, with some sort of battle going on over who would give in first could easily be one of the reasons Clint Barton wanted to stay retired.

Three hours into the ride, and Wanda let out another sigh from the backseat, and he had enough.

“I swear to god I’m going to make you walk all the way there.” The hawk warned, stealing a glance in the rearview mirror, quick enough for him to see you move your hand away from Wanda’s thigh. He snorted in disbelief. “That’s so inappropriate. And disgusting.”

“Don’t be homophobic, Clint.” You immediately retort, but the Avenger shook his head, chuckling reluctantly.

“I’ll tell your cousin what kind of things you do while other people are around you, young lady.” He threatened but you shrugged, an easy laugh escaping you.

“Good luck trying to slut-shame me to the god of fertility.” Your bratty response made Wanda and Scott hide a giggle.

Clint huffed in irritation. “What the hell, that’s not what I’m doing!” He defended himself, offended. “I just don’t want to be there while you make out with your girlfriend.”

You shrug. “Sounds like homophobia to me, man.”

Clint shakes his head indignantly, and tries to look at Scott for some support but the other just shrugs, with an expression that he agrees with your words. The Archer lets out a humorless laugh, and announces that he will stop for food at the next gas station he drives by.

When the stop finally happened, almost an hour later, Clint and Scott practically fled the car.

Wanda thinks she should have at least changed seats.

“Can I ask you something?” She ventured as the noise of the older Avengers talking grew more distant, as they were going to buy food at the convenience store. You hum in agreement, and Wanda swallows hard because she feels your gaze on her. “How did Barton convince you to join the fight?”

The question takes you by surprise. You change seats, and Wanda almost regrets it, but you do it just to look at her and it's more disconcerting than before.

“Why wouldn’t I join? I’m an Avenger too.” Apparently, you wanted to see her reaction. Sometimes, Wanda forgot that not everyone could read minds. Especially you, who, although you could resist any of her magic tricks, didn’t have the same abilities to do them on other people.

“I know, I meant…” She thought for a moment about the right words. “I just got the impression that Thor advised you to stay a little distant from things like that. He himself doesn’t seem to be around much for this kinda of… human and bureaucratic stuff.”

You click your tongue. “I’m human, Wanda. Half, but still.”

“I know!” she snaps back, her cheeks hot. “I just meant—”

“I know what you mean, I’m messing with you.” You cut her off with a giggle, gesturing slightly. “I’m flattered, you know? That you think I’m so strong and amazing, so superior to all of this.” You make an exaggeratedly theatrical expression, and Wanda laughs with an eye roll.

“Oh, shut up.” She retorts, and manages to make you smile too. The lightness of the interaction changes the second after this dialogue ends. You look at her in a different way, more intense and vulnerable, and Wanda swallows hard. She feels like she wants to say a million things at once, but it’s you who speaks first.

“You’re right though, I wasn’t going to get involved.” You say, your typical confidence failing for the first time since Wanda met you. “Diplomatic immunity and Asgardian royalty perks or something like that.” You joke with a weak laugh, but something about the way you’re saying it makes it impossible for Wanda to laugh, let alone breathe properly. “Clint only had to use two magic words to get me on the team.”

She swallows hard, her stomach flipping. “What words?”

You smile at the corner of your mouth, not meeting her eyes for a moment. And then you sigh deeply, and look at her. “Wanda Maximoff.”

The breath that escapes her is shaky and faltering, and you hold her gaze until she gathers her courage. You wait patiently for Wanda to approach, and you don't move at any of her hesitations, until she sighs and grabs the collar of your blouse, pulling you in with determination. Despite the urgency, the first kiss is not rushed. You let her get used to the feeling first, and pull away before Wanda has a chance to protest.

But when you dive back in the next second, you take control. Your hand cups her jaw and your mouth is hungrily against hers, teeth and tongue, devouring every whimper of need she gives you. You’re not immune to Maximoff’s charms either.” You gasp at Wanda’s taste, brow furrowed as if you’re physically unable to pull away.

But you have to, because Clint and Scott can't make a purchase longer than eight damn minutes.

The veterans climb into the car, and the archer turns to the back of the van to deliver the food and catches a glimpse of your disheveled appearances and uneven breathing and grunts of disbelief.

“For the love of god, I don’t even want to know. And don’t you dare touch my stuff!” He says, throwing the snacks into your laps as you and Wanda struggle to hide your giggles.

-&-

The plan was to sneak out, but Stark closed the airport. Steve's order was for everyone to put on their suits and follow him, but Wanda ended up trapped between the closed door of the van and your body.

“Everything okay, girls?” Captain America asked uncertainly, and without moving away, you forced a smile at Steve.

“Sure, Cap. I’ll just wish Wanda a good fight. We’ll catch up with you for a grand entrance, I promise.” It’s practically a warning that you’re going to do this regardless of Steve’s permission, so he clears his throat and waves for the team to follow him ahead.

The Avengers have barely finished walking away - she can still hear Clint complaining that the two of you haven't let go of each other when you lean your face down and kiss her.

She doesn't know what she expected, but she certainly doesn't feel prepared for this kind of kiss. Sloppy and charged with lust, just a few hours after she experienced the sensation of having your lips for the first time.

Your firm hands on her waist and the extra support of the van are the only things keeping her upright. Her wobbly legs gave out at the first bite of her lip, three kisses ago.

Between one gasp and another, and this because neither of you wants to let go, Wanda tries to remind you of what they are doing in Germany.

“We have to go. The others. The fight.” Each word comes between one kiss and another, and she’s not even trying to open her eyes, because you drag your mouth down her jaw and start pressing your lips to her neck with enough intention to make her arch her body towards you and forget the world around her.

Though you look equally affected, you manage to break the caresses with a husky chuckle. “Who the hell came up with the idea of adding a damn corset to your uniform, Wanda?”

The question makes her bite her lip, especially since she catches the way your gaze is fixed on her collarbone.

“I chose it myself. Don’t you like it?” She teases with false innocence, baiting you by puffing out her chest in your direction.

Your fingers reach up and pull at the limit of what the corset's laces will hold without opening, the gesture being suggestive enough for Wanda to tremble.

“I loved it, that’s the problem.” You murmur, evidently aroused, your mouth marking her skin again. “How do they expect me to fight with you looking like that around me. All I can think about is undressing you…” A soft bite on your lobe, and Wanda moans directly into your ear. “God, I could fuck you right here.”

“There’s no time.” She pants back, but your grip tightens a little and Wanda is sure that if you try to take her clothes off in the middle of this parking lot, she’ll help you.

“We can make time.”

But your whispered phrase carries a meaning she can’t ignore. She struggles to push her arousal away and manages to retort a hoarse “What?”

Your hands reach inside the suit's jacket, and move downward. Wanda gasps as she feels them on her ass, squeezing the flesh and forcing your hips together. The sensation is so delirious that she almost forgets she asked a question.

“We can kill time if we let the boys fight alone.” Your voice combined with all the attraction she’s kept secret for so long is like a siren song taking her mind to places far removed from Avengers intrigue, and more like beds or mats. Or anywhere you can press her, including this car. “Romanoff knows how to take care of herself, and the others wouldn’t even notice.”

“Yes, they would.” She retorts with a soft laugh before pulling your mouth back to hers. Kissing her again wakes something in you. Your hands go frantic, tugging and squeezing, and Wanda finds herself pressed completely against the iron door with one of your legs between hers. The softest press of your knee against her core makes Wanda gasp in a whimper.

You break the kiss to rest your forehead against hers. “You sound so beautiful when you make those sounds.” But she needs to put more distance between you, because she won’t be able to stop if she doesn’t do it now.

“We can’t.” She insists, one hand on your stomach to gently push you away. “Not now. And not here.” She sighs at the dark look in your eyes. “We gave you our word that we would help.”

For a moment, it looks like you’re going to ignore it, your lips brushing together, teasing away whatever sanity she has left. But then, you kiss her cheek and pull away, and Wanda would have slid down to the floor if it weren’t for van’s support.

“Okay, I’ll help.” You declare with a determination that makes Wanda swallow hard.

She barely has time to work on her appearance and has to rush to catch up with you, sprinting towards the team.

You missed the grand entrance - Things were about to start, and you interrupted a spider-clad teenager with an energy pulse that threw him away and kept him pinned to the ground.

“Sorry guys, I’m really busy today.” You announced. Everyone looked at you in shock, Tony seemed genuinely surprised to see you pick a team, and Steve seemed worried that you had changed your mind. When you started fighting with everyone, things got even more serious.

But Wanda didn't even have time to think about what it all meant; she realized that you weren't hurting them. You were bringing them together, to face them all at once.

Vision was probably the only one there who could do any damage due to the Infinity Stone, so she needed to keep him under control.

And with Spider-Boy safe and immobilized just like Vision, you screamed to the heavens.

“Heimdall, let’s take my friends for a ride!”

The Avengers only had time to widen their eyes. The transport was almost immediate.

Wanda closed her eyes, as shocked as the others, but the trip was actually smooth. While half the team was still fighting on the rainbow that led to Asgard, you held her by the waist, and the landing was calm and coordinated.

Steve was the first to approach you, as furiously as everyone else. “What do you think you’re doing? Send us back right now! We have to-”

“Sorry, I’m on vacation.” You cut him off, shrugging. Your hand is clasped in Wanda’s, who’s standing behind you.

The team all stands around, angry and surprised. Steve gives an incredulous laugh, but Tony actually laughs.

“Wow, that’s impressive, Rogers. Seriously, this time you outdid yourself in the worst decisions you could make. You didn’t think about what could happen when you called her to fight, she has the maturity of a ten-year-old!”

“Wow, and you can talk about maturity, can’t you Tony?”

You rolled your eyes, leaving them behind, cursing each other. Natasha was trying to stop King T'Challa from attacking Bucky, but none of them had a way out of here. Rhodes took off his armor helmet and was commenting on how huge Asgard was with Sam, while Clint tried to get a cell phone signal to warn Laura that he would most definitely be late. You think Ant-Man was trying to take pictures, but you got distracted by Wanda on the way through the Bifrost.

“Are we just going to leave them?” She asked, glancing at the irritated team.

You shrug. “Yeah, Heimdall will keep an eye on them. And when they calm down, the palace awaits. And you will see my royal chamber now.”

Wanda purrs, her cheeks flushed. “You’re getting pretty confident.” She teases, making you smile.

“I’m just inviting you to a late-night fondue.” You joke, and it’s Wanda’s turn to chuckle before pressing her lips against yours.

Some of the Avengers complain in the background but none of you are paying attention to them anymore.

[beeing1alive]

𐙚𝘏𝘢𝘭𝘧 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵...

ft. Sam Uley, Paul Lahote, Jacob Black

summary: imprint!reader meets the pack for the first time

warnings: none, fluffness

Sam

- he told you the whole truth as soon as he was sure that he'll be with you forever, so probably a few months after he imprinted on you and you got together

- makes subtly clear that you're absolutely off limits and that your word is law just as much as his

- it makes him fall for you over and over again to see how you get along with everyone, one way or the other

- after that first good impression, you came along with him to almost every pack meeting

- they all got the hint that you're to be protected, by all of them. Word of power said by the alpha

Paul

- it'd take him a while to tell you about his true identity, probably just as long as it took him to finally admit his feelings for you (to you and to himself)

- he's just afraid to scare you off or to loose you to someone else, now that he finally has found his one true love, his imprint

- anyway, eventually he'll tell you and when you'll meat the others depends on your reaction

- the first meeting was stiff, at least from his side, constantly being right beside you, always a hand on your waist, hip or leg

- obviously the others had to tease him to death about "how soft you made him" and it was true

Jacob

- he sees himself in a stalemate situation, of course he didn't want to act against the alpha's rules, but also had the burning need to tell you and finally not have a single secret separate the both of you

- so after a long talk with Sam about you and how the situation between you both was with you being his imprint, he got permission from Sam and will be up and go to tell you, no matter what time of day

- I think he'd be so eager to introduce you to his pack, the closest thing to family that he has besides his dad and you

- always has that grin on his face, that say's "yup, that's my mate you losers"

- no, but he's genuinely happy to see you bantering and laughing with them and even if you don't get along with everyone at first, he'll give it some time. But god forbid anyone invades your personal space, he'd get hella pissed

[megwritesriddles]

The First Move ༊*·˚

18+ MDNI !!!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader / You

Summary: A slightly disorganised account of being friends-with-benefits (or slightly more) with Spencer Reid.

Tags: Unprotected sex (birth control mentioned though), Creampie, P in V, Semi-public office sex, Fingering, Friends with Benefits, Secret relationship, Very minor hinted breeding kink (?), Awkward/Inexperienced!Spencer, Pining, Spencer Reid in glasses, Menstruation mention.

Word count: 3.7k

all fandom masterlist | cm masterlist | read it on ao3

Authors note: This will probably be my last fic for quite a while because all my final uni due dates are rapidly approaching and sadly I need to focus on them, I will be back tho... I feel like this has a weird structure but I'm prob just in my head about it lol... Hope you like it anyway mwah ( ◕◡◕)っ ♡

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Spencer had never known what to answer when asked if he had a type, frustrated how regularly the question seemed to come up despite it being nobody's business but his own. His life had given him room for very few crushes over the years, in fact, for a long time in his teen years he had thought that sex and romance was uninteresting to him entirely, caught up in his studies and with no one age appropriate around to latch onto with his developing hormones. Sure, he saw pretty girls that caught his eye on occasion, but he was never around them enough to know if that feeling was anything more than aesthetic. He’d thought he was different from everyone else in this aspect as he was in most other ways, and had more or less come to terms with it, when it all changed. He hated change, even if this change made him more ‘normal’, and had been completely thrown off when he realised he could in fact experience crushes and arousal towards real women, rather than just fictional characters. It turned out, he had just been looking for something specific.

Now he knew what his ‘type’ was, but still had no answer to the question when asked, too embarrassed to admit it. He liked a woman who took charge, not to the point of a specific dynamic, but a confident woman who made the first moves. Perhaps it was a symptom of his insecurity, perhaps his general personality, but he found it very arousing when a woman took charge of him, showing unabashed interest and guiding him around. He wanted, deeply, to be wanted. You were just that, and deep down he’d known it from the moment he met you. Immediately, he was interested when he met you in the BAU meeting room, you being introduced as the newest member of the team. You were well-dressed and styled, but not to the point of standing out or being flashy, tasteful quality fabrics and an air of confidence most new recruits didn’t have. And, of course, you were insanely beautiful. 

For months, he did nothing about the crush he was harbouring on you. He didn’t have the confidence, and either way, you were coworkers, it would just get messy if you did get involved in some way. Yet, when you made the first move, all of Spencer’s worries flew out of the window.

“I like your shirt,” you smile wryly, sitting yourself on his desk in front of him, forcing his eyes upward away from the case files he’s reviewing. He flushes. The two of you are completely alone in the bullpen, not for the first time, both working overtime. It’s another thing he likes about you, similar dedication to the work. He clears his throat.

“Thanks,” he gives an awkward tightlipped smile, spinning his pen between his fingers. You smile back, tilting your head and tracing your eyes down the fabric. A subtle light purple floral print.

“Most guys wouldn’t wear something like that,” you hum. The comment makes him nervous.

“I- uh… I know it’s not very manly–” he stammers, flushed and embarrassed, assuming you were being backhanded. He knew he didn’t dress macho like someone like Morgan, but at various times he’d gone shopping and tried on more ‘manly’ outfits, he’d just felt so completely ridiculous and not himself, so had given up on it. He liked the clothes he wore, did it really matter what other people thought? They already found him weird either way. But when it was you saying it, suddenly it mattered more than ever.

“No! Reid!” A chuckle escapes your lips despite yourself. “I’m serious, I like it, it’s a compliment, it’s fun,” you reach out, running a fingertip over the sleeve, making his muscles tense a little. He swallows, averting his eyes for a moment before looking back at you.

“Sorry I… I’m used to people meaning the opposite of what they say… you know?” he laughs nervously, stopping himself from speaking further, watching your hand fall back to your side. You shrug.

“I always mean what I say, I don’t bother with games, it’s a great shirt,” A moment of silence passes as your eyes meet. Spencer can’t seem to stop himself opening his mouth again.

“And anyway… I certainly wouldn’t describe myself as fun, I’m like… the opposite of fun… I uh…” he voice dies away as his eyes follow your hand up to play with the small pendant on your necklace, drawing his attention to your cleavage. He’s sure you didn’t have so many buttons popped earlier today. He mentally berates himself for even having noticed that, but can’t seem to draw his eyes away from your chest, especially as you lean forward a little. You notice his wide eyes on you and it reminds you why you came over here in the first place.

“Do you like my shirt, Dr Reid?” you whisper, your voice low and sultry and immediately travelling down to his crotch. The question throws him off and he flounders, his mouth gaping for a moment, the pen stopping between his fingers. Lashes flutter as his eyes meet yours, praying he isn’t imagining the lust he sees there. Still, he’s too nervous he’s misinterpreting you. He cannot comment on your body, the last thing he wants to do is ever make you uncomfortable, so he stays somewhere safer, albeit, unconvincingly. 

“It’s a great… colour,” he smiles shakily. This seems to be the wrong answer, as your face falls a little in disappointment. For a moment, you think he’s rebuffed you, perhaps you’d been imagining his staring all this time and he really wasn’t interested. You shift your legs, preparing to hop off of his desk and leave him alone, when you spot his eyes darting to your thighs, Adam’s apple bobbing noticeably, eyes dark. Taking a great risk, you shift your legs again, spreading them just slightly, trying to cling onto your flimsy prospect of plausible deniability. His breath hitches, his eyes wide and laser-focused. The shadow of a bulge in his slacks as you glance down his body is all you need to finally stop beating around the bush. 

“You’re getting hard,” you state simply, keeping your word about not playing games. Spencer’s mouth falls open, completely in shock that you’ve said that to him. Though he hadn’t yet noticed it himself, he can’t really deny it, glancing down, it’s clear that it’s pretty unmistakable. Your directness turns him on, so when you reach down, your hand curling around his tie and pulling him forward, he goes more than willingly toward you, rising from his desk chair. “I could help you with it,” you whisper as his lips stop just before yours, a shaky breath washing over them. “If you want…” you add with a seductive purr. He nods an eager agreement, eyes closed and breaths shallow, moaning the instant your lips touch. It’s nervous, as many first kisses are, Spencer is a little shaky, needing you to guide him to stand between your legs. You play with the strands of hair by his ear, using them to keep him held close, though he isn't exactly trying to pull away. An uncertain hand cups your jaw and he draws your bottom lip into his mouth, sucking lightly. It’s the only move in his repertoire, but it works beautifully, drawing a soft sinful sound from your lips. He responds in kind, whining as both of your hands tangle into his hair. To him, it’s heaven. When you lie back, he barely allows his lips to disconnect from yours, following you down in desperation, propping himself over top of your body. As your legs wrap around his hips and pull him in, he’s done for.

The night turns into your first hook-up of many to come. You let him take you on his desk, finding his fumbling enthusiasm both endearing and sexy. He’s gentle and cautious, it’s obvious he’s nervous beyond belief, but you placate him with sweet words, and take the lead whenever you need to. He’s long, thin and slightly curved, his head falling into the crook of your neck with a loud moan as he bottoms out inside of you. The actual sex is over a little fast, this isn’t his first time, but it’s not far from it, combined with the fact the two of you are technically in public and that he’s having sex with you of all people, means he really has no hope lasting long. Honestly, he thinks it’s a miracle he lasted as long as he did. Breathless and apologetic, he tries to think what to do next. He’s no douchebag, he isn’t going to use you and disregard your pleasure, but he’s entirely unsure how to achieve your pleasure. In theory, yes, he knows everything about pleasing a woman from all the books he’s read in case of this situation. But it is so very different to be presented with the real thing. You don’t look like one of the clinical diagrams he’s used to seeing, and he’s not sure he’s entirely lucid after being allowed to come inside of you. Seeing his release dripping out of you doesn’t help. You giggle a little as you see his wide-eyed look, the gasp that leaves his lips.

“I think I’ve just discovered something about myself,” he confesses, pupils dilated as he thoughtlessly reaches up and uses his finger to push the release back into you. The moan you grant him tells him you liked the action as much as he did. He gets to work trying to recreate what he’s read in his books now that his hand is on you anyway. After a good while of figuring out your anatomy, he’s surprisingly deft with his fingers. You knew you’d always stared at his hands for a reason. You pull him down for a kiss as you come, very glad for your birth control.

He can’t quite believe he’s had sex with you, sitting completely dazed on the metro on the way home afterward. He’d never done something so wild, with so little forethought or discussion, in his life. He certainly can’t bring himself to regret anything. Despite making very sure with you that no evidence was left behind, he was anxious, convinced that everyone would somehow know what had happened on his desk when they came into work the next day. He replays the encounter over and over in his head once he’s at home in his bed, never so grateful for his eidetic memory. Part of him wants to call you, but he just can’t get himself to.

It was nearly a month before you hooked up again, much to both of your chagrin. You had been waiting around for him to invite you to his apartment or something but slowly came to realise it wasn’t going to happen. He was still too nervous around you, more so than before, despite what you had done together. Constantly stuttering and wringing his hands when talking to you about a case, staring longingly across the bullpen and following you around like a lost puppy when on a case together. With his behaviour as it was, it was a testament to his professionalism that he was able to focus on the cases at all, but whenever there was a quiet moment, it was back to you. It amused you that no one on the team had figured out what had happened, just assuming Spencer’s little crush had got worse, always shocked how you managed to stay ‘oblivious’. He brought you coffee, carried your go-bag onto the plane for you, always hanging around you afterward for a while, staring at you shyly and waiting. But he never once dared to make the first move.

Eventually, you get sick of his pining and you just invite yourself to his apartment, catching up to him as he leaves work and threading your arm through his, taking the metro with him. He seems over the moon, chattering with nervous excitement to you as you walk from the metro station to his apartment. Once inside, you push him backwards into his bedroom, causing him to fall back on the bed. You hop up to straddle him and he’s never been so aroused in his life. He sounds so whiny and eager as you ride him, more than happy to be with you again and bring you pleasure in any way he can. By the end of that night, he knew he was addicted to you with no going back. When you fall asleep in his bed, he spends a long time just looking at you and stroking your cheek. You are beautiful and he is falling for you, but he doesn’t know what to say or do about it.

From then on, you invite yourself over at least once a week, if not more, walking arm in arm with him to and from the metro station, spending the nights blowing his mind and ever entwining yourself into his life for several months. You’d even hooked up in the employee bathrooms at work at one point, but had immediately decided not to do it again when Penelope nearly caught you. It had been fun nonetheless. Sneaking into his hotel room when out on a case was another common way to initiate, so common that Spencer had just started texting you his room number as soon as the team got to a given hotel, knowing you would come visit him once everyone else was in their rooms and not likely to catch you sneaking to him.

In a matter of moments from entering his room, you’re guiding him backwards toward the bed as you kiss feverishly, struggling to kick off your shoes before hopping up into his lap like normal. He hums happily, his large hands settling on your hips, fingers flexing anxiously, still not quite used to your physicality despite the months of hook-ups. He leans back against the headboard, looking up at you with a slightly awed expression. The heat was already rising between you, leading you to shrug off the robe you’d wrapped around yourself for your way here, letting it fall to the floor. Spencer twitches beneath you as the clear outline of your breasts, and your nipples which are pebbled from the cold, come into view. Yet, he doesn’t try to pounce on you like most guys might, just giving a shaky smile and running a tender hand up your side. You smile back, cupping his cheek and running your thumb over the cheekbone.

“Have I ever told you I like your glasses?” you muse. He puffs out a laugh.

“Once, when I first started wearing them, but I didn’t believe you,” he chuckles and you do too.

“Well, I do like them, they make you look cute,” You place a kiss on his cheek, trailing toward his jaw. He laughs once more, though more unstable now, tilting his head to give you access. 

“I don’t think I get called cute all that much,” he jokes, eyes meeting yours as you pull away to look at him.

“You should be, you’re a total cutie,” you tease, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to his lips which he eagerly reciprocates, his fingers twitching, debating moving somewhere else. “The,” kiss. “Cutest,” another kiss. “Ever,” you smile against his lips. He smiles back, a hand sliding up your back and pulling you closer to press against his body. You were so complimentary lately, it made his head spin. Your hands move up, gently removing his glasses as they press into you uncomfortably when the two of you kiss. “It’s a shame, they really do something for me,” you smirk as you fold them closed. He reaches out to stop you, taking the glasses from you and slipping them onto your face. You blink, trying to adjust to the blurriness of his prescription. He takes the sight of you in for a moment before dramatically wrinkling his nose. 

“Yeah, not your look,” you gasp and smack his arm lightly, making him laugh.

“You total ass!” 

“I’m kidding, you look as adorable as ever, it’s unfair, how can you make everything work?” he squeezes your side. You roll your eyes, taking off the glasses and placing them in the open glasses case on his nightstand. He watches you, rubbing your sides slowly. “Do the glasses really do something for you?” he asks quietly.

“Yeah, I don’t really know why, they just do,” you shrug, sitting back up properly in his lap, shifting your hands to rub his chest through his pyjama shirt. “Anything that I wear do it for you?”

“Everything,” he grins. You laugh.

“I’m being serious!” you prod his chest.

“So am I! Seriously, whenever I’m around you it’s like… I’m one whiff of your shampoo away from getting hard,” he confesses, a quiet and slightly nervous laugh puffing out of his chest. Of course, he knows you must have noticed this by now, but actually confessing to it aloud feels a little pathetic. He’s just so… enamored with you. You tilt your head, staring down at him.

“You’re such a horny little freak,” you giggle, cupping his chin and leaning down to give him a kiss. “I would have never guessed it when we first met,” he laughs against your lips, shifting your hips against his so you’re sitting comfortably.

“You must bring it out of me, I wasn’t like this before,” he retorts a little nervously. He’s still a bit unsure around you, worried that he’s going to say the wrong thing and scare you away forever, but every day it gets a little easier. You get a little closer to him and don’t get scared away when you see the ugly. It feels so good it hurts.

Like the other week when you’d come home with him, only for his mother’s sanitarium to call while you’d been making out on his couch. It had only been to inform him about some medication changes, but the fact they’d called him had freaked him out. He tried so hard not to cry, it was ridiculous, nothing was even wrong, he wanted to be strong for you, but the tears had come anyway. Instead of finding him odd, or sitting and awkwardly waiting for it to pass, you’d soothed him for a bit, stroking his hair, and then endeavoured to distract him. You’d put on a documentary for him and made him some tea, sitting in his lap while he calmed down and watched the documentary. He’d felt like a big baby, but it felt good to be cared for. You’d left his apartment that night without getting what you’d come there for, but you never seemed upset, being your normal teasing self the next day at work, twisting his tie around your hand when you’d caught him alone by the coffee machines, taunting him by pretending you were going to kiss him and pulling back. He’d been able to steal a kiss later that day by hanging back to pack up after a meeting. When he’d apologised for the previous night, you’d just said you were glad he was okay. He blinks rapidly as you snap your fingers in front of his face.

“Spence? Where’d you go? You like… glazed over,” you pout. He smiles sheepishly, reaching up to push a hair out of your face.

“I was just thinking about you,” he admits. You huff. 

“I’m right here! You don’t have to think about me!”

“I know, I know, sorry, just got lost in my thoughts,” he pulls you closer so your chests are pressed together, pecking your forehead and taking a subtle whiff of your hair. The scent seems to immediately lower his blood pressure, you just made him feel safe these days, he wished he could stop being so nervous and just enjoy things. “You mean the world to me,” he whispers in an effort to do just that. The words make you pause, you don’t really expect them, but they warm your heart to no end. 

“You mean the world to me too,” you rest your forehead to his for a quiet moment. His eyes close and he drinks up your words and your closeness. One day, and it would be soon, he was going to ask you to be his girlfriend. It was a terrifying prospect and the idea that you might say no was so painful it was physical, but he had to do it. More and more often he almost finds himself blurting out that he loves you, and if he’s going to tell you that, it’s going to be on purpose. Probably with flowers and chocolate-covered strawberries, or maybe running through an airport if the movies he’d been watching for inspiration were anything to go by. However he decided to do it, it would have to be special, prove that he cared for you without a shadow of a doubt, and hopefully aid in making you fall for him. Part of him just wished you’d say it first, like you did with most things, but there wasn’t really any telling if you felt that way. You’d been different with him lately, and he hoped it wasn’t too optimistic to consider you might feel the same as he did. Your head shifted to his shoulder and your body melted onto his, clearly assuming that tonight would be a cuddling night. You’d done this a few times now, after particularly scarring cases or when you were on your period, it wasn’t really usual friends-with-benefits stuff, but in your line of work, a little cuddle was often very much needed, so was justifiable. He turns his head to kiss your forehead again.

“Don’t give up on me just yet,” he whispers, hoping to sound lighthearted. 

“Yeah?” you ask quietly, looking up at him as he looks down to meet your eyes. “I’m not giving up,” you whisper, kissing his jaw a few times. The words have deeper meaning to Spencer and he takes a shaky breath.

“I just may need you to make the first move,” he smiles, shifting to face you. You smile simply.

“What’s new?”

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hey you! want to get tagged in my work when it comes out? click here! (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

taglist: @i-live-in-spite , @raysmayhem-72

xoxoxo

[foxy-eva]

Afternoon Delight

Summary: You didn’t have sleep in mind when you asked Spencer to take a nap with you

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader 

Category: Smut, Fluff

Content Warnings: (18+, minors DNI) Softdom!Spencer, praising, teasing, grinding, handjob, fingering, rough sex, unprotected penetrative sex

Word count: 2.1k

Masterlist

With a dramatic sigh you closed the laptop in front of you and stretched your arms over your head, announcing, “I need a break!”

Spencer looked up from his book to find your eyes. “Study breaks are very important. You’ll be able to focus a lot better afterwards,” he explained. “Do you want coffee?” 

“No,” you said with a smirk forming on your face. “I wanna go lie down with you.”

Spencer obviously did not get the hint and declined, “I’m not tired but you can take a nap if you want.” 

You got up from your desk to move over to the couch, sitting down right beside your boyfriend. In an instant you could feel the heat radiating from his body. It was almost ridiculous how much you craved his nearness, even after many months of spending most nights together. There was just something about him that almost drove you insane. 

“Did you know that short naps are highly efficient and can help improve productivity. You just have to make sure not to sleep for too long,” he explained in his usual rambling manner. He was still oblivious about your true intentions.

“Uh-huh,” you nodded and winked at him. “What if I took my clothes off for my nap?”

Spencer raised his eyebrows and thought about it for a split second. “Some studies suggest that sleeping naked can have a positive effect on your sleep quality. But knowing you, I’d assume you would get too cold to be comfortable.” 

“So, would you help me get warm?” You chirped, hoping that he’d finally understand what you wanted. 

His eyebrows furrowed at your question, obviously confused about what you were talking about. “I would,” he said, “but it’s probably easier if you just wore clothes, like you usually do when you sleep.”

Usually it didn’t take this long for Spencer to understand when you wanted him. He’d catch onto your playful tone or simply read your body language. He apparently really took your word for it when you told him earlier that you were determined to get your work done with zero distractions. 

But even being in the same room as Spencer was more distracting than you could have ever imagined. 

“Can I tell you a secret,” you snickered as you moved even closer to him. “I’m not really tired.”

The poor doctor looked at you more puzzled than ever. “Then why would you want to take a nap?”

There was barely any space between the two of you left at this point. It still took him a few more seconds to interpret your mischievous grin correctly. 

“Oh!” He laughed. “You want to sleep with me.”

“Wow, I really need to work on my seduction skills,” you giggled while climbing into Spencer’s lap. 

“You’re usually pretty good at it,” he chuckled.

He smiled against your lips when your mouths finally met. With more fervor than you had anticipated he started kissing you, while his hands pulled your hips even closer against his body. His tongue begged for entrance, joining yours in a dance that let heat rush through your entire body. 

It only took a few more moments until you felt a familiar hardness straining against his pants. 

You started to rock your hips ever so slightly while breathing against his lips, “Seems like it’s working.”

Your boyfriend leaned back to look at you. One of his hands found your face and his fingertips began tracing along your cheek. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he cooed. “How could I ever refuse you anything?” 

The hunger in his eyes only grew when a timid sigh fell from your lips. He watched intently as you kept grinding against him while the tension in your body only grew. His hardness twitched against your clothed core as you used his body for your own pleasure. 

“So needy,” he purred as he watched you moving in his lap.

The friction your motions created was making you desperate but it wasn’t enough for you. Spencer knew that, too. He still wanted to see how long it would take you to start begging for him. 

His fingertips were buried into the supple flesh of your hips, keeping you close to him as you started to struggle to keep moving. With your face buried into his neck, he could feel your hot, heavy breath against his skin. 

It was too much and not enough for you at the same time. The lace of your underwear was soaked with your essence at this point. You felt like you might combust if you didn’t find release anytime soon. 

“Please,” you finally whispered into his ear, desperate for him to take over. 

“What is it, my sweet girl?” He chuckled as he leaned back to find your eyes. “What do you need?”

The smirk on his face revealed that he knew exactly what you needed. He just wanted to hear you say it. 

“Please… I need you,” you begged. 

He found your lips in a kiss, soft and sweet like a silent promise to always take care of you. When he motioned for you to get off his lap, you whined at the loss of pressure against your center. 

“I know, love,” he cooed. “Just be patient for me.”

Your legs felt weak when you stood in front of him, waiting for his next move. He got up from the couch and took your hand, leading you to the bedroom, where he slowly began undressing you. The second your bra dropped to the floor, his fingers began toying with your nipples. His thumbs brushed over your hardened peaks while he kissed you again. 

You really tried to be good for him while he took care of you but it became almost too much. You took a few steps back to lean against the closest wall, your knees suddenly couldn’t be trusted to hold you upright anymore. Spencer followed without a comment, clearly enjoying witnessing your desperation. 

His hands were still on your breasts, caressing them just the way he knew you liked. When his palms finally descended further down your body, a relieved sigh fell from your lips. He removed the remaining pieces of clothing until you stood completely nude in front of him. 

“You’re such a good girl,” he murmured against your neck. “So patient with me.” 

Hearing his praise aroused you even more and you could feel your desire dripping down your inner thighs. You knew it wouldn’t be long now until he’d let you feel him. He took a step back to let his eyes roam over your body while he undid the buttons of his shirt. 

“You’re so handsome,” you mumbled and noticed a rosy shade spreading over his cheeks as he kept undressing.

When he finally revealed his body to you, you could barely take your eyes off him. Closing the distance once more, your hand dared to make contact with his cock. Spencer’s eyes widened at your touch and it became obvious that he struggled to keep up his demeanor. He would never admit it but he was just as desperate as you were. 

His hardness felt hot and heavy against your palm and his tip was already leaking when you began moving your hand. Spencer’s breath hitched right before a moan escaped his throat, a sound so sinful it almost drove you insane. He indulged in the sensation a few more moments before he took over the situation once more. 

“Get on the bed,” he demanded with a firm tone and you did as he said. 

However, when you lay down on the mattress he shook his head. “No, I want you on your knees.”

You didn’t need further instruction to know exactly how he wanted you. You turned around,  got on your knees and bent over, your forearms pressing into the mattress. Heat rushed to your face when you took in the position he wanted you in, aware of the view you gave him. 

He stood right behind you when he purred, “So pretty. I love seeing you like this.” 

His hand made contact with your backside, grabbing your flesh before descending down to your cunt. Your glistening folds were so sensitive that your entire body trembled at the sudden contact. He let his fingertips glide through your slit before focussing on your already swollen nub. 

“You’re dripping wet and I have barely touched you.”

You were already too far gone to even respond to that. A fit of moans fell from your lips and you buried your face into the sheets to stifle the sounds. Spencer’s free hand found your hair and gently tugged on it to turn your head. 

“Don’t hide those beautiful moans from me. I want to hear what I do to you.” 

When he finally entered you with two of his fingers, you couldn’t help but grind your hips back against his hand. He curled his digits inside you, pushing against your walls to finally help you fall over the edge. As much as you loved feeling his fingers inside of you, you were still desperate to feel more of him. 

You needed all of him. It was impossible to wait any longer. 

“Please,” you pleaded once more. “Please, Spencer.” 

“What do you need, my love?” This time his question seemed genuine. 

“I need you,” you mumbled. “Need you inside me.” 

“I am inside you,” he teased with a playful tone in his voice. 

“No,” you whined. “I need your cock!” 

The crudeness of your words shocked and excited the both of you at the same time. Spencer finally gave in, granting you what you had been begging for all along. He removed his hand and positioned himself behind you before he let his tip glide through your folds to cover himself with your arousal. 

Then, without another warning, he pushed into you with one swift motion. He didn’t give you time to adjust to the intrusion, instead he instantly began fucking you with a ruthless pace. His hands gripped your hips to keep you in place. His fingertips were buried into your skin so deeply, you were sure to find bruises tomorrow.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned. “Feels so good.” 

He gave you exactly what you needed, pushing into you over and over again until your mind was completely blank. You couldn’t think about anything but him, how he handled your body, how he filled you out so deliciously, how only him could make you feel so good. The pressure inside you grew as the room filled with your moans and the filthy sounds of your bodies colliding. 

“You love it when I take you from behind, don’t you my sweet girl?” 

“Yes!” you cried as you started dancing along the brink of euphoria. Even though you could barely take his forceful thrusts, you still wanted more. “Harder!” 

The entire bed shook under the force of his motions until he felt your walls tighten around him. With a few more skillful strokes he pushed you over the edge, feeling you pulsing around his erection as your orgasm washed over you. Spencer slowed down to let you ride out your high, watching how your entire body trembled with pleasure. 

When he slipped out of you, he was still painfully hard. As pleasurable as this position was for the both of you, he craved your nearness more than to find quick release. 

Spencer Reid was a romantic after all. 

“Can you turn around for me, please,” he cooed. 

You did as he said and welcomed your boyfriend on top of you. His demeanor had changed when he entered you again, his motions were slower but still purposeful. His facial features were soft and his eyes filled with adoration for you. You wrapped your legs and arms around him to keep him impossibly close before capturing his lips in a soft kiss. 

“I love you,” he breathed against your lips. 

“I love you more.”

It didn’t take long for Spencer’s movements to get erratic as he got close to his own climax. 

“I’m so close,” he sighed. “You feel so good.” 

You ground your hips against his, intensifying his thrusts. You kissed his lips once more before whispering, “Come inside me.”

That was all it took for him. His body began quivering as he throbbed inside you, sharing his warmth with you until he had nothing left to give. After he caught his breath, he gently moved a strand of hair out of your face before softly kissing your forehead, your nose, your cheeks and finally, your lips. 

You still held him close inside your arms, refusing to let him go just yet. Your bodies were still connected even after he had gone soft. Spencer tried to move but you didn’t let him, still craving to have him close.

“Just a little bit longer,” you sighed.

“I’ll stay for as long as you need me to.”

Please like, reblog and leave a comment! I need your lovely words to stay motivated to write more stories.

Taglist: @nomajdetective @reidsbookclub @gspenc @samuel-de-champagne-problems @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @malindacath @luredwithpretzels @reidselle @alexxavicry @frickin-bats @spencersprettyslut @sebs-oxygen @happymangospot @cynbx @hotchandspencearedilfs @kobaltdragon @castiels-majestic-wings @emiliaserpe @velvetthunder93 @saturnstringz @missabsey @spencerslove @guacam011y @hugyourlungs @reiderwriter @hales-17 @loaksulluyswife @ecneremili @xserenax-13 @grumpyy-bearr @super-nerd22 @pleasantwitchgarden @r-3dlips @evvy96 @torigorie @meyaareads @luvdella @luvley2k @bunnylovesani @spenciesslut

[deunmiu-dessie]

(unedited)² retired simon has nowhere to go, so you offer. [ one, two, three]

it took a lot of convincing to get him to your little apartment, like trying to move a massive brick wall with a feather. however, in the end, he gave in— not that he had much of a say in the matter, considering the fact that the two of you were already at your home amidst arguing (which, to be fair, was predominantly one-sided as he persistently uttered 'no' in response to all your counterarguments).

in all honesty, you couldn't quite figure out why you were so insistent on having a stranger, especially a strange man, stay with you in your much too tiny apartment. perhaps it was your festive december spirit, the idea of someone being alone during this time of year just didn't sit right with you. besides it was just for the night, then you could take him to the shelter.

he’d been quiet as you set up everything for him, he was imposing, tall, and somewhat scary (primarily due to his skull mask and his overall silent demeanor). but strangely enough, you didn't feel unsafe with him, despite the fact that you probably should have. after all, he was a man, and he undoubtedly outweighed you by at least 100 pounds. killing you and getting away with it would be easy for him. and, why the hell were you contemplating this now, instead of when you first picked him up from the side of the street?

perhaps it was the way he carried himself, with a sense of calm and control that was almost hypnotic. or maybe it was the way his eyes seemed to pierce through you, yet held a hint of sadness that made you feel a strange sense of empathy toward him. whatever the reason, you found yourself drawn to him.

as you finished setting up the couch, you couldn't help but steal glances at him, trying to decipher his thoughts and emotions. but his expression remained unreadable, his mask hiding any hint of vulnerability or emotion. it was both frustrating and intriguing, making you wonder what secrets lay hidden behind that skull mask.

“um, so the shower is just down the hall, oh! feel free to look through the fridge for something,” you smile awkwardly at the tall man and gesture to your room door, “if you need anything just let me know.” his gaze remains fixated upon the makeshift bed you have prepared, adorned with a spare comforter of a soft, faded hue resembling baby blue, adorned with delicate flowers which sprawls across the expanse of your pull-out sofa.

simon, ever the brooding man, says a small, stiff thank you; ready for you to leave him alone you're sure. wiping your sweaty palms on your denim-clad thighs, you gently press your lips together and affirmatively bob your head. “alright, well, goodnight simon.” without waiting for a response, that you were sure you weren't going to get, you scuttle off to your bedroom, swiftly closing the door and attempting to lock it as quietly as possible. however, the resounding click makes you think he’s heard it.

letting out a weary sigh you slide down your door, reaching into your pocket to retrieve your phone. with a gentle motion, you begin to skim through your contacts and find your best friend. it rings once, twice before she picks up with a tired hello.

“if i die tonight, i love you.”

you catch the faint sound of her perplexed murmur, followed by the gentle click of her bedside lamp over the phone. it was late, far too late for you to have disturbed her with a call, you knew that— should’ve called your sister or something.

“have you been drinking?”

you give a slight eye roll before curling your legs up to your chest. “no, not yet. anyways, i think i might've done something very dumb," you admit, trailing off as you nervously nibble on the inside of your cheek, feeling the soft flesh give way under your teeth. your friend lets out a quiet grunt. “well? spit it out.”

“so, i picked up a homeless guy on the side of the road and offered him a ride to the shelter but instead i brought him to my apartment and now he’s in my living room, about to sleep on my couch,” you utter quickly— and she's silent for a moment, it's a loud silence, one that makes your heart beat quickly in your chest. you run a hand down your face and take a deep breath, sighing heavily. “say something.” your voice is filled with a mix of impatience and anxiety.

“what the hell is wrong with you?”

[crepezinhos]

POV: They heard you talking dirty about them

He just wanted to help you unpack and place the things you had brought to your new home, but instead, met you telling to another friend in the kitchen, who was helping too, how you would easily let him fuck you after being so kind and helpful to you, and that you had a growing crush on him. He stood there for some good minutes, clueless about what he should do now, before deciding to simply continue his job there and never tell you that he heard what you said about him.

It did not work, in fact, it worsened. Now that he knew about such private secrets of a person he crushed on, he couldn’t interact with you for more than a minute before his own intrusive, pornographic thoughts about you and the things you said made his cheeks glow bright red. Of course you noticed the sudden change in behavior and went to talk to him about it, thinking that he was mad at you, and it took you five variantions of “What’s wrong?” before he finally turned to you and vomited everything out, not only the incident but also his feelings towards you. Now you two couldn’t stand each other’s presence and wanted to simply walk away in opposite directions like that moment never happened, but you had to apologize to him and he had a confession to make.

“So, hum… arewegonnadoanythingaboutit..?” He asked as quick and low as he could, really afraid of your rejection, although he had in mind you two shared the same kind of feelings to each other.

Itto, Xiao, Gorou

You and him have always had a very platonic relationship, even if you weren’t somehow brothers or emotionally connected, which always made your friends wonder if any of you crushed on each other. Now, as you and two of your common friends waited for him and the rest of guests to arrive at the private party in a bar, they decided to pull the topic up, but the slight effects of the few sips of alcohol you drank made you all of you turn into sex pests in minutes. Now there you were, describing how you would probably choke on his ‘fat cock’ as he called you a ‘good girl’ alongside with noises of you pretending to suck and choke on him as your friends cackled to death and him behind the door of the room with his beer in hands, trying to wait for a perfect moment to barge in and scare everyone.

Now, don’t get him wrong, he isn’t malicious, but it would be so fun to play with your innocence and see your face of realization when you found out that he heard that conversation. His plan of slowly giving you hints started in that same party by making slight remarks on the fact that he had been waiting behind that door for some long minutes to make his arrival scary, but you didn’t get that, or any other hint at all. After almost a week wishing for his plan to work while he lusted for intimacy with you, as you walked together to his apartment in the building, he finally decided to give the most obvious hint ever of it, by telling you a story of how ‘he heard 3 girls talk about how one of them liked this another friend in common and how they talked about many weird topics such as oral sex in a very loud tone’. You froze in place, realizing that all random, contextless remarks of him were referencing to that moment, and now it was your turn to talk since he finalized his story asking your opinion about it. He kept smirking the entire time, and the more embarrassed you seemed, the bigger his smirk was. You started apologizing in a state of panic, trying your best not to scream while you waved your hands and head and telling that it was just a joke and that it shouldn’t be serious at all, but he knows you’re just embarrassed and watched the whole scene quietly.

“Really..? Dang it… I was really getting so interested in the girl doing the ‘gulp gulp’ noises. Pfft… haha..! I’m just kidding, Y/N, I’m not offended by that at all, in fact I am actually delighted… Wanna come in and solve this matter like two adults?” He flirts while walking up to you and pulling out the keys to his apartment since you two were already at his door.

Kaeya, Kazuha Zhongli, Ayato, Thoma, Sethos, Wriothesley

Don’t ask why, but he really just wanted to make a surprise in your birthday, knowing that you were probably going to react the way he wanted you yo. He sneaked into your dorm with some others friends in common when you texted them you’d be home in five minutes, and hid behind your sofa with his confetti popper and gift in hands, prepared to explode it. He and everyone else kept very quiet when he heard you arriving, but he wasn’t expecting to hear another friend of yours coming in too. That person want involved in the prank at all, and since he was the leader of that surprise, he whispered commands to everyone, making everyone get back at their spots. Unexpectedly, the topic of the conversation changed into him and what you liked most about him. You initially described he was a very nice person and that you thought he dressed well, but surprisingly, you decided to specifically tell about how his eyes were sexy and always caught your attention. Your friend, interested in what she heard, kept the conversation going by spicing it, and the next thing you said was how making eye contact with him during sex would make your orgasm come faster. Everyone’s jaw was dropped, although they recognized your tone was ironic, including you after they revealed themselves very suddenly.

After that moment of shock and happiness, the first thing he did was walk up to you when he saw you lonely with his arms crossed in much confidence, who and self-stern.

“Wow… between all the parts in my body that could make you cum faster, what turns you on are my eyes?! Such a lame answer… I was expecting more, I must say.” He joked as he stood beside you and leaned against the wall, which made you finally panic in embarrassment as you apologized non-stop.

He would never ever tell anyone that he had to hide a slight, increasing boner in his pants during that entire surprise party.

Scaramouche, Tartaglia, Heizou, Cyno

It was midnight and he was trying to sleep, but he kept failing since the noises coming from all the girls in your dorm didn’t allow him to relax. You were doing a girl’s night in your dorm, a silly sleepover, and he was hating every bit of it as he switched his position for the hundredth time. But as soon as he heard one of your many visitors mention him and ask you about him, his eyes opened. He might be a frank, honest, cold soul, but come on… who doesn’t like to at least know what other people thought of you?

Well, since everyone except you, thought of him as a weird, rude, creepy man… they started making questions about how would he possibly fuck a pussy. The majority of girls thought he would need lessons before doing it, some thought that he was just an average fucker, but some few, including you, thought he might actually be good at it. Most girls didn’t understand why, so you described how you thought he probably has some sort of weird kink that most people don’t like, so he has to hide it, but might’ve actually made many girls see heaven. Then… you started to scene a weird role-play sex scenario of a tutor and his student by asking easy math questions, like he was the one saying it, then tuning your voice to a girly one answer the question, which made you suddenly clap your hands and go back to the manly voice to say ‘Wrong!’ and some punishment orders, making all your friends cackle like a group of hyenas.

“Ew.” That was all he thought.

He was so shocked and disgusted with the absurdity of the conversation that he decided to get up and go to your door to ask for a better silence. Luckily, you were the one to answer it, and as he described that he couldn’t sleep because of the volume, he mentioned that he could hear every single word coming out of everyone’s mouth through those thin walls, which obviously made you internally worried. After that, all he mostly heard was some dirty jokes about ‘punishing Y/N in bed after disturbing the hot nerd’s sleep’ and giggles, then silence took in. He sighed as he laid down again and closed his eyes, knowing that his attempts to sleep would better, but now… his mind was the problem. Those suggestions of role-play sex between him as a tutor, and you as a mere student was keeping his mind more awake than before. Slapping your buttocks whenever you got a wrong answer doesn’t seem like a bad idea to make someone as stupid as you focus, but then he gives up on that excitement because he’s the kind of person who’ll try his best to do it only with someone who truly deserves it and despises kinks.

But why is his mind filling him with the most pornographic imagery of you ever..? He can even feel his tip slightly touching the sheets, like his mind is keeping him awake to get rid of that need for sex… but he’ll never ever reduce himself to those animalistic thoughts.

“God, no, why am I even thinking about this kind of stuff..?!” He asked to himself, switching his position in the bed for the fifth time.

Maybe he doesn’t hate kinks, he has never tried one anyways, but his ego doesn’t want to live with the fact that for once in your life, you predicted something correctly about him despite his intelligence and awareness of intimacy or identity.

Diluc, Wanderer, Albedo, Tighnari, Neuvillette, Al Haitham

Taglist: @alatusorrow @kindofshyent @kindofscenic @the-stinky-winky

(More silly thoughts cuz why not 🙏)

[scoupsakakitty]

Just saw your posts the scoups x reader ahhhhh jts so good please continue writing, can i request some more seventeen x reader maybe from another group and the members are teasing them then it turns out they're already talking to each other or they're already together and others would find out accidentally HAHAHA THANK YOU 💖

Secrets and Suspicions | idol!Wonwoo x Reader | fluff

The practice room was alive with energy. The members of Seventeen were scattered across the space, either stretching, joking around, or scrolling through their phones while music played softly in the background. You sat on the couch against the wall, pretending to be invested in whatever video was playing on your screen, but your eyes kept darting toward Wonwoo, who was sitting beside you.

He was close—closer than friends usually sat—and his leg brushed against yours every time he shifted. You could feel the heat of his arm resting casually on the back of the couch, almost as if he wanted to pull you closer but was holding back.

“Y/N, do you want anything from the vending machine?” Wonwoo asked, his voice soft but clear enough to make the others glance in your direction.

“No, I’m okay,” you replied quickly, but your voice betrayed the slight nervousness you felt.

“Since when is Wonwoo so polite?” Minghao teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Seungkwan chimed in. “He doesn’t even ask us if we want something. Are you special or what?”

Your face burned, and Wonwoo just gave a small, calm smile. “Maybe Y/N deserves special treatment.”

His words sent a ripple of surprise through the room.

“What was that?!” Hoshi practically shrieked, dropping into a crouch as if preparing for battle. “Did Wonwoo just flirt?”

“It’s called being nice,” Wonwoo replied nonchalantly, but the tips of his ears were turning pink—something you had noticed happened whenever he got flustered.

“Ohhh, nice, huh?” Joshua grinned, walking over and sitting on the armrest beside you. “You two have been spending a lot of time together lately.”

You tried to brush it off. “We’re just friends.”

“Sure you are,” Vernon said, leaning back against the mirrors with a smirk.

The teasing continued for a few more minutes before the members got distracted by their usual antics. Wonwoo leaned in slightly, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

“Are you okay?”

You nodded, offering him a small smile. “They’re just being themselves.”

He chuckled quietly. “We might not be able to keep this secret much longer.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You and Wonwoo had been dating for a few months now, but neither of you had told anyone—not even the other members. At first, it had been exciting, sneaking around and sharing stolen moments. But now, with the others picking up on little hints, you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep up the act.

Wonwoo reached down and briefly brushed his fingers against yours, a silent reassurance that made your chest tighten in the best way.

———————————————————————————-

The next day, you found yourself in the dorms with the members again. This time, they were gathered in the living room playing games while you and Wonwoo sat off to the side, watching.

“Wonwoo, you’re awfully quiet,” Mingyu said, nudging him. “Usually, you’re focused, but today you’re just staring at Y/N.”

Wonwoo rolled his eyes. “I’m not staring.”

“Oh, you definitely are,” Jeonghan added with a sly grin. “And don’t think we haven’t noticed how you two keep whispering to each other.”

“They’re probably just sharing secrets,” Dino said innocently, but even he didn’t sound convinced.

“Secrets?” Seungkwan repeated dramatically. “Like the secret that they’re already dating?”

You choked on your drink, coughing as everyone turned to look at you. Wonwoo patted your back quickly, and that simple gesture only made the situation worse.

“See?!” Joshua pointed at the interaction. “You don’t do that unless you’re close. Really close.”

“Come on, leave them alone,” Woozi said, finally stepping in to rescue you both. But his slight smile told you that even he was suspicious.

Wonwoo, ever the calm one, simply leaned back and said, “Believe what you want.”

That response did little to ease their curiosity. If anything, it made them even more determined to figure it out.

———————————————————————————-

Later that evening, most of the members had left the dorm to grab dinner, leaving you and Wonwoo alone for the first time all day.

“Finally, some peace and quiet,” Wonwoo sighed, leaning back against the couch.

You smiled, leaning a little closer. “Who knew keeping a secret could be this exhausting?”

“Oh, trust me, I know.”

Before you could say anything else, Wonwoo suddenly placed his hands on your hips and gently pulled you onto his lap.

“Wonwoo!” you gasped, but the soft smile playing on his lips made your heart race.

“What? We’re alone,” he said, tilting his head slightly as his eyes flickered down to your lips.

You couldn’t resist him—not when he was looking at you like that. So you gave in, wrapping your arms around his neck as he leaned in.

The kiss started soft and slow, but it didn’t take long for it to deepen. His hands held you firmly, one resting on your waist and the other trailing up to cup your cheek. The world outside faded away as you melted into him, savoring the warmth and comfort of his touch.

Minutes passed, though neither of you seemed to care. That was until—

“We’re back!” Hoshi’s loud voice rang out, shattering the moment.

You jumped off Wonwoo’s lap so fast that you nearly tripped, scrambling to smooth your hair and fix your shirt. Wonwoo leaned back, doing his best to look unbothered, but the faint redness in his ears gave him away.

“Wait a second,” Jeonghan said, freezing in the doorway as his eyes narrowed at the two of you. “Were you two just—?”

“No,” Wonwoo interrupted quickly, his voice calm but a little too quick to deny it.

“Don’t lie!” DK shouted, pointing at you both. “You were totally making out!”

“No, we weren’t,” Wonwoo said again, crossing his arms as if that would somehow make him more convincing.

“Oh, really?” Seungkwan smirked, stepping closer and squinting at Wonwoo’s face. “Then explain why you’re wearing lip gloss.”

Wonwoo’s eyes widened slightly, and his hand instinctively moved to touch his lips. The other members erupted into laughter as your face turned bright red.

“Busted!” Hoshi shouted, practically falling over as he laughed.

“That’s not—” Wonwoo started, but it was no use.

“Nice try,” Joshua teased. “Just admit it already.”

Wonwoo sighed, running a hand through his hair before reaching out to grab yours. “Fine. You caught us.”

The room exploded with cheers, whistles, and playful teasing as you buried your face in Wonwoo’s shoulder, groaning.

———————————————————————————-

By the end of the night, the chaos had died down, and most of the members had gone to bed. Only a few stragglers remained, still asking occasional questions but clearly starting to accept it.

“I can’t believe you managed to keep this from us for so long,” Jeonghan said, shaking his head.

“Me neither,” Mingyu added. “But honestly? You guys are cute together.”

“Thanks,” you said, smiling as Wonwoo squeezed your hand.

When the others finally left, you turned to him. “Well, that went about as expected.”

He laughed softly. “At least now we don’t have to hide anymore.”

You leaned into him, letting the weight of the day melt away. It wasn’t how you had planned for them to find out, but in the end, it didn’t matter.

Because now, you could be together—no more secrets.

And honestly? That was worth all the teasing in the world.

———————————————————————————-

[supernova41st]

Scout getting horny for everything

Scout x Reader (Headcanons)

Warnings: Smvt with no s€x, Female Reader, Mentions of lingerie bras/magazines, and perfume stealing (MINOR WRITING SMVT, DNI IF YOUR UNCOMFORTABLE!)

Divider by @uzmacchiato

Scout couldn’t keep his eyes off of you since you two began hanging out. He had the mind of a teenage boy and a dog in heat, especially when he saw your bra strap when you wore a tank top at his house. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of your bra, it looked almost exactly like the Victoria Secret catalogue that he kept under his bed. He accidentally slipped out that he noticed it when he was blabbering on about god knows what.

“—Anyways, I can see that bra is doin’ some work on ya”

“??”

..yes, he did regret saying it.

When you invited him to your bedroom for the first time he went into straight panic mode! He had never been in a bedroom of a girl he liked and wanted to fuck. The smell of your room alone got him horned up, he did a fair job at hiding it.. that is until you left the room. He immediately went on a little hunt for anything that could’ve hinted at you being a s€xually active person.

After a minute of digging through your drawers, he couldn’t find much.. until he found your mesh bra! He was shocked. He held it up in front of his face, confirming that the cups of the bra were almost completely see through. Had you always worn this around him?? Why didn’t you tell him sooner? Millions of thoughts went through his head, until he later decided to stuff it into his pocket and save his fantasies for tonight.

Bras weren’t the only thing that turned him on. He later noticed the perfume you used frequently on your desk. He’d never thought he’d be into scent stuff, but here he was, stealing the bottle of your 38$ perfume so that he could spray it onto his pillow. Lord, here he thought he’d have the ladies thirsting over him.

You touching him? Sends him into orbit. He nourishes the feeling like he’s getting his virginity taken. Even you tapping on his shoulder gets him to space out in the moment, not even noticing that you’re trying to get his attention.

“Hey, Scout, you know where my perfume went?”

“…huh?”

“I asked if you know where my perfume went.. are you okay? You’ve been acting kinda weird lately.”

Fuck. He wishes he can tell you how hard he’s been for you, but he’d rather touch Sasha than tell you about how he stole your perfume so that he could smell you on his bed. So for now, he’ll stay humping his pillow every night, wishing it was you underneath him..

“..I’m good, and nah, it was probably Pyro. I can smell that shit on him”

[bellherald]

Law & the Voice of All Things

Oda's left enough back hooks that Law could be revealed to have the Voice of All Things at any moment and it would make not only complete sense but explain a confusing scene in Dressrosa that stuck out as being rather odd, both in manga and anime.

There have been a bunch of scenes that can be interpreted at hinting at VOAT for Law, but the thing that definitively made it stand out as plausible if not soft-confirmed is how the Dressrosan rooftop scene happened compared with Luffy's fall from Onigashima. Law communicates with Luffy in what appears to be telepathy, considering his mouth is closed and neither Doflamingo nor Trebol overhear anything. When the chapter first came out, people were wondering if it was perhaps the prelude to a flashback because it did not look like whispering. Weird, but ultimately ignored considering there were a lot more pressing things going on at the time and we'd yet to have Zou elaborate further on the Voice of All Things.

Then years later, Luffy falls off from Onigashima.

And suspiciously similar formatting appears. A telepathic communication that only the other can overhear in the exact same style of bubbled text. Law (unknown-speaker) and Luffy (VOAT-only listener) had communicated in the exact same way as Luffy (VOAT-speaker) and Momo (VOAT-only listener) did. Going even further, Law might've overheard Luffy talking to Momo as well (unknown-only other listener).

In 1015, when Luffy was telling Momo he's going to come back and kick Kaido's ass and Momo was translating that, only Kid reacts during this. Oda usually pairs him up with Law when doing this type of reaction scene so the exclusion is a notable choice. Immediately after that, Law's submarine and crew find Luffy. Then Law pops up and doesn't doubt it for a second, believing Luffy will be back up soon. It would make sense if he had heard it from Luffy already and knew he was fine.

It explains why Law wasn’t worried that time Luffy went down but then next time he was, because Luffy wasn't saying anything. And there's the fact both Law and Momo are shown reporting very specifically that Luffy's voice has gone out in that moment. It could just be observation haki but its incredibly suspicious to be tied together with Momo like that and the different reactions Law had despite Luffy, by all means, going down the same as before.

On a more meta level though, it's incredibly interesting that we have learned that Roger had a special way of hearing Poneglyphs that Luffy doesn't seem to replicate, meanwhile Law is off in the corner not saying anything and being a secretive D. who doesn't share with the class. Especially since Law has demonstrated the capacity to sense seastone since Punkhazard and "coincidentally" found the Ponegylph in Kaido's massive, sprawling castle.

Sensing seastone is probably the weakest point to mention since Poneglyphs are not made of seastone, but it is an interesting facet of Law's perception that I can't recall anyone else having. Since the VOAT is all about a unique talent of hearing both animals and objects, it is worth pointing out in my opinion.

This also explains how Law knew what chains on Punkhazard were safe to be enchained in if he is able to HEAR sense it. He can feel the energy of seastone and sneakily swap the chains about to be put on him with the identical non-seastone variety. He was able to send that note to Chopper without any noticeable Room or movement after all. Law is a sneaky dude.

Regarding hearing the Poneglyphs themselves, one of the odd things about Law instigating the Rockyport incident is that he was originally motivated by rumors of a Poneglyph being present on Hachinosu. Law having a prebuilt capacity to hunt down Poneglyphs by hearing them would give extra context to what he was doing looking for one, especially if he can glean anything from the voices within them like Roger could.

Shout out to the first scene that demonstrates just how shifty this bastard is and began to cause people to wonder; where Oda chooses to show he is conspicuously saying literally nothing ("....") while confirmed VOAT people are hearing things. Damnit Law! Telling us nothing and standing there suspiciously...

The evidence is not conclusive and most of it can be explained as different coincidences, but the allusions to Law potentially possessing it keep happening and that Dressrosa moment is suspicious. Trying to explain it away as "just whispering" isn't quite right, and seeing something similar occur between confirmed users of it made me genuinely believe Law has the Voice of All Things.

[frankent1ts]

RIDDLE THEORY

Okay so y'know how in the CH3 egg room the Forgotten Man says this nonsense?

Most ppl in the fandom write these lines of dialogue off completely, but I actually think this a riddle. More than that, I think this riddle is the Forgotten Man telling us where the past egg rooms were and where to find future egg rooms.

Let's start off with addressing the whole Thursday-Sunday thing, what do the days of the week have to do with egg rooms? Everything actually! Because guess what? CH1 of Deltarune takes place on a Thursday.

We know this because in CH2 Susie and Kris go to school, but then in CH4 no one's in school because it's the first day of the weekend AKA Saturday.

So if CH4 takes place on Saturday, then CH2 must take place on Friday, and CH1 must take place on a Thursday. CH3 is stuck in a weird limbo bc Kris opened up the TV dark world late at night (probably closer to midnight, as evidenced by this quiz)

So while technically it's Saturday night because it's currently past midnight, it also doesn't feel like the start of a new day. That'll be an important detail so keep that in your noggin.

ANYWAY, let's start with the first part of the riddle.

Now while we obviously don't find the Forgotten Man selling donuts in CH1, we do find a bake sale, a bake sale that sells donuts.

It's worth noting that the bake sale has a teleporter door and the only save point you'll have for the next couple of rooms. These two things mark the bake sale as an important checkpoint. Why is the bake sale so important? Because in the very next room we find a tree identical to the one found in the egg room, hinting that we may find this very same tree again between the bake sale and the next checkpoint.

So that's part one of the riddle down, but what about this next part?

Well, this one's actually pretty obvious. CH2 takes place on a Friday, right? Well, guess where we find the egg room? In-between a sidewalk and a hidden dumpster room. Bada-bing, bada-boom.

Also notice how the dumpster and bake sale both relate to the first two secret bosses, Spamton and Jevil? Above the bake sale is where you find the blacksmith that mends the broken key to Jevil's cell, and we find out that Spamton lives in the hidden dumpster. This draws a very deliberate connection between the secret bosses and the egg rooms. Remember this.

Okay and what about the third part of the riddle?

Well, and this might be a bit weird, but I don't think this part of the riddle refers to the CH3 egg room at all. Remember how I said that CH3 is kinda in a limbo in-between Friday and Saturday because it takes place at midnight? Well, I think CH3 being in-between the days of the week excludes it from this riddle. Plus, beyond the whole time thing, the CH3 egg room doesn't relate to windows at all.

But y'know which egg room does relate to that? The CH4 egg room. Yeah, this one's also pretty obvious but we find the CH4 egg room by going in-between a window and a secret library.

Now before we move onto the last part of the riddle, allow me to spit another theory at ya. Remember how I said that the riddle deliberately connects the egg rooms to the first two secret bosses? Well, right about now you're probably beginning to question that connection. The secret boss of CH4 is Gerson, and the CH4 egg room doesn't have an obvious connection to Gerson at all. So was the connection between the first two egg rooms and the secret bosses just a coincidence?

No.

I believe the connection between the first two egg rooms and the secret bosses was intentional, and I believe that Gerson not being all that connected to the CH4 egg room was also intentional. Why do I think this? Because Gerson is the first secret boss to not slip into darkness.

Let's think about it: what do the first three secret bosses (Jevil, Spamton, and ERAM) all have in common? They're all related to darkness. Jevil is trapped in a dark, lonely cell and talks about how a darkness will consume our hearts. Spamton is forced to live in a dark garbage can and complains about how it's still so dark even in his NEO form. And ERAM is a shadowy figure found in a dark hidden room that gives us an item resistant to dark attacks.

But Gerson isn't like that at all. He tells us that someone gave him the shadow crystal and wanted him to use it, but he refused to. And seemingly because of that, he didn't get lost in the darkness. Unlike the first three secret bosses, Gerson is kind, helpful, friendly, but most of all he isn't consumed by darkness. Hell, he spends most of his time in a comfy well-lit room with a fireplace. He's the absolute antithesis to the first three secret bosses.

And it's because of this that the CH4 egg room isn't really related to Gerson. All the other egg rooms are connected to the secret bosses in some way (even the CH3 egg room is kinda related to ERAM since they're both found through convoluted secrets in retro video games), but because Gerson broke free of that cycle, he didn't become connected to the egg room.

…However, there is still a connection to be made between Gerson and the egg room, albeit a vague one. As I mentioned, the CH4 egg room is found in-between the window and the hidden library. Well, the hidden library actually contains a single book inside. Read it and you get this story: "Something grew from the bitter water. It felt like glass."

Hm. Water, something that looks like glass? Where have I heard all that before?

Ah, yes, the shadow crystal. A piece of glass that moves like water in your hand.

So what does all this mean? Why are all the egg rooms connected back to the secret bosses/shadow crystals? Well, that's because the secret bosses/shadow crystals all relate back to one thing: Gaster.

Jevil met a strange someone that made his view of the world become darker, yet darker. Spamton was always on the phone with someone that made him a big shot, and the phone emitted garbage noise. ERAM is found in the shelter, and the shelter emits the same sound found in ENTRY NUMBER SEVENTEEN. The shadow crystals are impossibly dark shards that don't reflect any light, photon readings negative.

It all leads back to him. But why? Why are the egg rooms deliberately connected to Gaster? Well, I think you know why.

It's because the Forgotten Man is Gaster.

The Forgotten Man is found in-between rooms, and so is the Mystery Man sprite in Undertale. The Forgotten Man is forgotten and obscured, and so is Gaster. The Forgotten Man can only speak in all-caps, and so does Gaster. Gaster has knowledge of the prophecy, and so does the Forgotten Man.

“But the Forgotten Man doesn't have knowledge of the prophecy,” I hear you say. “He never tells us anything about the prophecy.”

But he does.

Let's finally talk about the last part of the Forgotten Man's riddle.

The fifth egg room is going to be found on a Sunday, it's going to be found in CH5. Importantly, it's going to be found in a wheat field. Now obviously CH5 hasn't come out yet, so I don't know what it has in store. But I know for certain that the CH5 dark world will have a wheat field.

How do I know this? Well, during your fight with Gerson, he rattles off the titles and descriptions of the chapters from The Lord Of The Hammer. We find out from Gerson that The Lord Of The Hammer series is based on the prophecy that the Fun Gang are seemingly destined to carry out. The chapters of The Lord Of The Hammer further confirm this fact as they all sound pretty similar to the first four chapters of Deltarune.

But then Gerson tells us of a fifth chapter.

According to Gerson, the fifth chapter will contain a field of pink and gold, a garden that gets burned. Obviously this hints at the CH5 dark world being inside Asgore's flower shop. It's a flower shop with double doors, Asgore had fire magic in Undertale so Asgore's garden being set ablaze would make sense, Asgore could become jealous of Sans having a better relationship with Toriel than he does.

It all adds up. But what does the “Field of Pink and Gold” mean? In Deltarune, pink and gold is often related to the secret bosses (Spamton has pink and gold shades, FRIEND's eyes are pink and gold, the controller Kris uses to play the secret boss game is pink and gold.)

Why is the field in CH5 gonna be pink and gold?

…Well, the Forgotten Man did say you'll find him in a wheat field. A golden field.

The Forgotten Man knows about the prophecy, he knows that Kris will be able to find him in a future plant-themed dark world.

But what did Gerson say about Chapter 5? That it was the last chapter? That the story “swallowed up the author whole”? An author that got killed by their own creation, now where have I heard that before?

And what do you know? The Forgotten Man only tells us about where to find him up til CH5, but not CH6 or CH7. Why is that?

If the Forgotten Man truly is a version of Gaster, then this can only mean that after CH5 we may never see the Forgotten Man again, and (just like Gerson, just like Gaster) the Forgotten Man will be swallowed up by something, something he created.

CH5 is gonna be the last chapter where we'll be able to collect an egg. And these eggs are gonna be the only way we'll be able to remember the Forgotten Man after he's gone.

And the Forgotten Man knows that this will happen. He tells you as much himself.

[chuuniversal]

THE SECRET DESIRES OF A HUNTER

☆*:.｡ as a hunter of your caliber, you’ve sworn to serving and protecting your community from the likes of wanderers and those that’s don’t hold Linkon City’s interest at heart… but there are things that you yourself want as well…

note from chuu: i found this in my docs and wanted to rework it and sylus needs to be fucked so! here we are lmaoo!! wc is about 1.1k no minors and no ageless blogs pls n thanks!!

cw: groping (breasts), f! reader, titty sucking, clit pinching, sylus refers to himself as “papa” (twice), calls reader princess, missionary to mating press, hint of oral (f! receiving)

as a hunter, your duty is to protect and serve for the greater good of linkon city. fighting and slaying the likes of corrupted wanderers, going underground and gathering information that could disrupt the fabric of the community you hold dear. as a hunter, you hold a lot of responsibility on your shoulders, you’re to set an example for those looking to fill your shoes once you’re one with the universe. at times you enjoy what you do, but you can’t help but to have certain…needs.

you’re always protecting and defending, but at the end of the day who is going to do the same for you? who’s going to satisfy your wants and desires when you find yourself alone at night, that specific hunger pooling deep in your core as you try to satiate it yourself…that is until you met the annoyingly charming silver haired leader of onychinus with a lust for blood. and you.

he always manages to toy with you at your most vulnerable. sylus has you sat in his lap, broad chest pressing against your back as he snakes his hands under your thin lace camisole. his calloused palms once covered in blood now eclipsing your bra. “you’re squirming, something wrong?” he purs teasingly. “your hands…” you sigh softly, anticipating his touch as he slips the cups of your bra off to reveal your breasts. “what about my hands? you don’t like it when i touch you like this?”

sylus takes his time with you, eating up the way you whine for his touch, the pathetic look in your glazed over eyes begging for him to do something, anything!

he finally makes contact with your supple skin, massaging the softness of your tits meticulously and brushing against your pebbled nipples. “i can stop, just say so”. he nips at the shell of your ear, groaning and whispering his darkest desires for you. you really can’t help but melt into the palms of his hands, your thighs pushing and rubbing together as you try to satiate that need building in your core. you’ve been craving this kind of attention, hungry for his touch and that feeling of pleasure he pulls out of you every time the two of you are alone.

“poor thing, panties probably soaked” he chuckles deeply, continuing his assault groping your tits and tugging at your sensitive nipples. “you just needed papa to take care of you” he whispers before pinching a little harder, smiling devilishly as you writhe in pure ecstasy. “t-took you long enough” you whine, pout melting as you succumb to the pleasure.

he has you on your back now, crowding your space as he slots himself in between your supple thighs. sylus takes a nipple into his mouth, slowly sucking on the sensitive peak as he massages the other in his hand. his tongue is hot and sticky, swirling around the puffy bud until he takes it into his mouth, sucking until he releases with a pop. whines for him leave your pretty lips, your hands gripping at his bicep. he smirks at you as his thumb rubs small circles around your nipple. “tell me what you need, princess.”

you need him where it aches most, you’re tired of being toyed with, tired of waiting. locking your legs around his waist, you stare him in the eyes with a seriousness and hunger he hasn’t seen from you. “s-stop toying with me and fuck me already!” the sexual tension that smothered the atmosphere of the room thickened, so still and quiet you could hear a pin drop.

with a swiftness sylus now has your legs thrown over his shoulders and your hands held over your head. his eyes are a radiant crimson red and his voice is lowered and rasped. “and here i was trying to be a gentleman,” he rips your panties to the side, revealing your soaked cunt. spreading your slick folds, he rubs your clit before pinching it, ripping a squeal from you. “meanwhile you just wanted to be fucked stupid, is that it?” before you can spit back an insult, the tip of his cock pushes through tight rings of muscle until he’s in fully.

you gasp in shock as his hips move at a rapid rhythm, cock pumping in and out of your sloppy cunt as you moan and writhe from the intensity. he pushes your legs back to your chest, large hands gripping your pillowy thighs as he plunges deeper. it doesn’t help that you’re sucking him in, velvety feel of your heat welcoming every inch of him. “mmm she needed this huh?” he groans, bending down to leave pretty blotchy marks on your neck. “you can hear how much she needed papa to take care of her, listen.” he stops talking and slows his thrusts so that the only sound is the lewd squelch every time he pushes in and out. “she’s got so much to say.”

the way he refers to your cunt like you’re not even in the room should have pissed you off… but your mind is clouded with every stroke. his condescending timbre unfortunately excites you, your pussy tightening anytime he teases you. you can feel yourself getting close, each stroke massaging the sensitive bundle of nerves within you. you stammer over your words and whine as your fingers fumble to play with your clit. the added sensation sending you over the edge as you moan louder, the high pitched cry at the end shushed with a sloppy kiss. sylus continues fucking into you, biting at your tongue and puffy lips like a starved animal.

“cum on it, that’s it. fuck!” he groans into your mouth as you mewl into his. euphoria radiates in your core until it finally bursts, shooting waves of pleasure through your body from your toes to your fingertips. you’ve never felt this kind of high, so overwhelming that you can’t help to babble mindlessly. “c-cumming! w-wait!” but it’s fallen on deaf ears, sylus himself lost in pleasure continues thrusting into you until he’s bored with the position. “awn now don’t give me that, i know you have one more in you.” he’s quick, turns you over so that your face is in the sheets and your ass is in the air.

you’d be lying if you told him you didn’t. you wanted more, the adrenaline rush so intoxicating that your fingers spread your slick folds for him without a thought. “d-don’t just gawk at it, either stick it in or eat it…” you weakly demand, whining as you start to play with your buzzy clit. sylus can’t help but laugh, you’re so cute when trying to assert yourself. it’s laughable that you said either, he thinks to himself as he spreads your pussy with his thumbs. he plans on ruining you the entire night, everything from devouring your sweet cunt to fucking you in every position imaginable until sunrise. but you don’t have to know that, before he’s nose deep he bites at your thigh. “yes ma’am.”

☆*:.｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆thank you for reading! if you enjoyed feel free to like, reblog and or comment! send an ask if you want, i don’t bite :3!

[hoesoflamentation]

↫↫↫↫↫ 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘦, 𝘵𝘰𝘰 ↬↬↬↬↬ short ‘n’ sweet part II, om!mammon x f!reader, 18+

C L I C K H E R E for series masterlist!

// now playing: taste by sabrina carpenter

// synopsis: you heard mammon’s back together with his ex-girlfriend, and if that’s true, then you’re going out tonight. and if you happen to see you-know-who at the bar, then it’s not your fault if you decide to close your eyes and feel his lips. after all, a girl can only stand up to temptation for so long. will she retaliate or take it in stride?

// content warnings: bsf’s brother, strong language, suggestive content, angst, alcohol use, drug (marijuana) use, dubcon, kissing, lying & scheming, catching feels

L E V I thankfully, quickly forgot about the unexpected events of your first evening back in town. 

And apparently, so did Mammon. While the backs of your thighs still burned from the places where his fingertips had grazed your skin, Mammon somehow seemed more absent than before your return. You and Levi hung out every day - yet whenever you visited, Mammon was nowhere to be found. 

Mammon’s social media, on the other hand (which you were checking a lot more often now - especially late at night), left little to the imagination when it came to where he was or what he was doing. 

Every night, Mammon posted a series of fuckboy selfies at some new party… and every night, you thought about how much you hated him for looking so good. Even surrounded by the haze of marijuana smoke and flashing club lights, Mammon radiated equal parts editorial model and approachable boy-next-door. 

Though you had always been attracted to him, he looked nothing like the boyishly handsome teen you knew growing up…yet here you were, in the same old house, wearing the t-shirt from your high school senior trip and a ratty pair of pajama pants you’d owned for a decade. 

If Mammon’s new motto was “out with the old,” then you were definitely out. And as much as you wanted to act cool about it, people around you were starting to notice how you felt.

Maybe you could have flown under the radar if you at least summoned the courage to pick up the phone every once in a while. But there was nothing like being brutally ghosted by your first love to convince you that your friends didn’t care if you texted them back. If he didn’t like you, obviously no one else could, either.

Luckily, most of your friends could take a hint; would happily give you space to figure out… whatever it was you were going through. 

Even Levi, whom you never kept secrets from, was too afraid to ask you how you were feeling. Most of the time, he preferred to engage you in a multiplayer showdown rather than a meaningful heart-to-heart.

Still, everyone has a friend who can’t leave well enough alone - and you were no exception. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“Knock knock, bitch! Guess who it is!”

Despite her words, Thirteen had decidedly not knocked. Instead, she strode into your parents’ living room like she owned the place - all without acknowledging that you had never told her you were moving back home. 

You weren’t even sure that you’d ever mentioned to her where you were from, or where your parents lived… but you had no doubt that Thirteen had ways of finding your information, probably on the deepest corners of the dark web. 

As one of Levi’s oldest online gaming buddies, she was so used to hacking servers, conducting coordinated raids, and doxxing homophobes that she hardly thought anything of employing nefarious tactics - even on her closest friends. 

Thank goodness that your mom and dad were happily in their empty-nester phase, traveling more weekends than not. If they had been around to see your long-distance bestie barge in, they might have had a heart attack… 

Just like you almost did.

But you had already decided not to dwell on any of this. You were just excited to see a familiar face - especially one who had flown in all the way from Tokyo just to check on you.

“I have never been happier to see you,” you gushed as you flew into her waiting arms.

Thirteen platonically stroked your hair and clucked her tongue in disapproval. “You look pathetic… What’s his name? I’ll have his IP address and bank account number in five minutes.” 

“Please don’t,” you sighed as the two of you collapsed on the couch, Thirteen slinging an arm around your shoulders. “Besides, his balance is probably even lower than yours.” 

Thirteen’s jaw dropped emphatically. “He’s an asshole and he’s broke?”

“Whatever you’re trying to say, I don’t want to hear it,” you whined, burying your face in her shoulder.

“Honey, we have got to talk about your taste in men,” Thirteen chided. “But that’s for later.” 

She helped you sit up, neatened up your hair, and gave you a pinch on the cheek. “Right now, it’s time for your makeover!”

You blinked at her absently. 

“...my what?” 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“I can’t believe I left my room for this,” Levi grumbled, taking a begrudging swig of the open bar’s lightest beer.

You turned to Thirteen and nudged her ribs affectionately. “Well, I can’t believe you got Levi to come!”

The party was being held by a minor YouTube celebrity who orbited the same professional circles as Levi and Thirteen. Their peers always invited them to be polite, but nobody ever expected them to actually show up. Usually, Levi never bothered to come to fancy events like these, preferring instead to focus on honing his reaction time and shit-talking the attendees over Facetime with the two of you.

“What can I say?” Thirteen tossed her hair smugly. “The boy would do anything for me.”

“You threatened to crop my face onto a neko-girl and post it to my official Discord account if I didn’t come out tonight,” Levi deadpanned.

Thirteen draped herself playfully over Levi’s shoulders, sloshing her vodka-cran in the process. “And aren’t you so glad you came?”

While your besties bickered, you took the opportunity to scan your surroundings for any signs of you-know-who. Everywhere you looked, you were surrounded by C-list actors and gorgeous influencers…but no signs of the one person you wanted to see.

You hadn’t realized how long you had spent looking for him, until Thirteen surprised you with a friendly hug from behind.

“He’ll be here,” she reassured, resting her chin on your shoulder. “I promise.”

And, as if Thirteen had spoken an incantation, a small but rowdy group of guys stumbled through a distant doorway, smelling like top-shelf tequila and expensive cologne. One of them, tall and bronzed, wore a black silk shirt with a deep v, unbuttoned far enough to show off a set of gold dog tags. His wavy silver hair was expertly mussed with a waxy pomade - and he laughed a little too loudly, as if he was already two or three drinks deep.

Mammon. You knew it was him, without a doubt. 

Even though he felt miles away, you squirmed awkwardly in his presence, suddenly overthinking whether the hem of your satin bodycon dress was more slutty than sultry; whether Thirteen’s DIY blowout had left you looking more clownish than cunty.

Mammon seemed to move in slow motion as he looked over his shoulder… in your direction. 

And your pulse quickened with the realization that, despite wearing something that showed off all your best assets, his eyes stayed firmly locked on you - with a penetrating gaze that stared right into your soul.

Keeping eye contact was more than you could bear. Bashfully, you immediately turned your back, hair flying, and downed a shot of expensive liquor from the nearest waiter. 

“Excuse me, what the hell was that?!” Thirteen demanded, shaking you by the shoulders. 

You froze, allowing the warm buzz of alcohol to wash over you with an absent stare… willing it to numb the deviant sensations broiling between your thighs. Why did he always have to look so. Damn. Good?

Even Levi seemed to feel pity. When Thirteen finally set you free, he reached out and patted you awkwardly on the arm. 

“Y/n,” Levi said, in a tone that meant business, “I would literally rather you fuck my brother than…whatever the hell that was.”

Thirteen drew in a sharp breath, ogling a trainwreck in the distance. “Actually…better not.”

Before anyone could stop you, you turned to look at the scene that had captured Thirteen’s attention - only to watch a dark-haired woman in a sequined dress drape herself all over Mammon, his arms snaking around her toothpick frame as he pulled her in for a kiss. 

You would have recognized that runway silhouette anywhere.

Furiously, you whirled around to give Levi a shove. “Why didn’t you tell me they were back together?!” 

“I- I didn’t know!” Levi stammered, blushing in earnest.

Your heart sank into the pit of your stomach as you watched Mammon lace his fingers through hers - dainty and manicured - and lead her down a dark hallway. It dawned on you that they were probably planning to do the very same things you yearned for in the fantasies that haunted you late at night.

At that moment, Thirteen sidled into view, tactfully blocking your line of sight as if to say ‘enough.’

“We should get a drink,” she suggested gently, before glaring at Levi pointedly. “Now.”

Your best friends ushered you toward the bar in a daze…. But it was already too late.

You already knew that there wasn’t enough alcohol in the world to make you forget about what you had just witnessed. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Two hours later, the real party was only just beginning - but you and your friends were already the drunkest ones there.

As you should be. After having your fragile heart re-broken and stomped on - all in a matter of, oh, twenty seconds? - you felt you had more than earned your permanent seat of dishonor at the bar.

But you didn’t intend to stay seated much longer - and not just because you were falling off your chair. Now, you had achieved the stage of drunk where every song that played was your song; every bassline shot directly into your veins like heroin.

Soon, you and Thirteen were dragging Levi onto the dance floor and belting the lyrics at the top of your lungs. This place may have been bougie, but it wasn’t so classy that your fellow partygoers didn’t know how to have fun. 

Before long, gaggles of dancing guests had clustered around you; you were bumping and grinding on everyone like it was prom night. Every girl you locked eyes with during a chorus was now your best friend. 

A friend of a friend of Levi’s lit a joint and passed it around the room; boys took turns blowing smoke rings into yours and Thirteen’s mouths. Even Levi took one hit - his first ever - and immediately looked like he was going to throw up.

Every set of eyes was on you three, in a good way. And it felt amazing. 

You could already tell you were going to feel differently tomorrow, when the physical and emotional hangovers sank in… but for now, this was the best night of your life, in the way that every night when you’re young and drunk and dancing is the best night of your life. 

But even on the best night of your life, you could admit when you needed a break. You were sweating and winded; your high heels long forgotten under some table somewhere. More importantly, you were in desperate need of another drink.

You leaned on the bar with bravado, glowing with the aura of liquid courage…and before you could place your order, a veiny, muscular forearm wearing a gold bracelet reached around you to signal to the bartender.

“Two waters over here, barkeep,” a familiar voice called

You puffed out your cheeks and pouted dramatically, turning to see none other than Mammon leaning across the bar. 

“‘S’one of those waters for her?” you slurred, prodding an accusatory finger into his chest.

Mammon gazed at you with a bemused smirk. How could he be smiling at a time like this?!

“No, dumbass,” he said, “it’s for you.” 

Mammon thanked the bartender and slid one of the glasses across the bar. You eyed the beverage with suspicion, even as your fingers wrapped around the stem.

“What, ya think I poisoned it or somethin’?” Mammon teased, raising an eyebrow as he took a sip from his own tumbler of ice water.

“No,” you grumbled, begrudgingly raising the glass to your chapped lips. “Jus’ not sure why you’re bein’ so nice t’me alluva sudden…”

The cool water ran down your throat like a refreshing waterfall. You hadn’t realized how dry your mouth had gotten over the course of the evening’s festivities... Somehow, he seemed to have known what you needed even before you did.

“Whaddaya mean?” Mammon’s eyes twinkled; you noticed he was speaking much more softly than usual. “I’m always nice to ya.”

“Pfft,” you snorted, shaking your head incredulously. “Yeah, right… like the way you paraded your girlfriend around all night? Tha’ was jus’ soo nice of you…”

Mammon blushed as he set down his empty glass. “I…didn’t know you were here. If I did, I would’ve-”

“Woulda what?” you spat, taking a clumsy step forward.

You didn’t realize just how close you were standing to him until you felt his warm breath hit your face; felt the swell of heat radiating off his copper skin. Before Mammon could answer you, you stumbled forward, sticking out your palms to catch yourself against his broad chest. 

Instinctively, Mammon wrapped an arm around your lower back to help you regain your balance… Was it getting hot in here, or was it just him? 

“Maybe we should talk about this when yer feelin’ better,” Mammon suggested, in a concerned tone that made your skin itch with frustration.

You frowned up at him, taking a step back. “...you don’ wanna talk t’me anymore?”

“I didn’t say that,” he chuckled. “But the next time we talk…” 

Mammon reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear. 

“…I want ya to remember it.”

Instead of falling to his side, Mammon’s hand followed the curve of your cheek - and lingered there a moment too long. 

By then, the room had started to spin with the chaotic pulse of your liquor-fueled heartbeats. You kept your gaze fixed on his plush lips to keep you steady. 

Mammon’s pout glistened with the sheen of his saliva, glittering like a shiny piece of jewelry you were dying to make your own. 

“‘S okay,” you purred, drawn forward as if by a magnet. “We don’ have t’talk if you don’ wanna…”

Your body spilled into the empty space between his legs as you lost control of your limbs. His breath was warm and heady and close enough to taste. You pressed your palms into his thighs for leverage, allowing your lashes to grow heavy and your lips to part ever-so-slightly. Then, like a woman possessed, you tilted your head to the side... 

You didn’t lean in so much as collapse on top of him. And - with the gentle touch of an elephant, and the grace of a baby gazelle - you drunkenly mashed your lips against Mammon’s.

Under different circumstances (and a lower blood-alcohol concentration), the significance of the line you had just crossed might have weighed more heavily on your shoulders. But with all of your senses heightened - and all of your inhibitions dampened - you were consumed by a single, primal need. 

You wanted to be everywhere all at once…to devour him from the inside out…to claim every part of him as mine, mine, mine. 

Mammon didn’t kiss you back with the enthusiasm you craved, nor did he protest. You swore that his lips had softened into your embrace; that they almost seemed to have moved with yours in a delicate tango - him serving as the slow, steady bass drum to your chaotic melody. 

But you could also sense that something was holding him back…and you could still taste the faint whispers of strawberry lip gloss that wasn’t yours.

You pulled away with a frown on your face. Mammon’s eyebrows knit together in a pensive, almost pained expression. 

“C’mon, Y/n,” Mammon mumbled, fishing loose ones out of his pocket. “We should, uh… probably get ya home.”

Feeling defeated, you could only nod weakly. 

Mammon rose to his feet and pushed a crumpled pile of bills across the bar. He stared pointedly to the side as he slipped a caring, even brotherly hand behind your back to guide your swaying body.

You followed him across the dance floor as he attempted to hunt down the rest of your party, hearing only snippets of their conversation…and when you did listen, their voices sounded to you as if they were underwater.

“Okay, ya little shits,” Mammon sighed like an overworked single dad. “Time to wrap it up.”

“Whaat?” Thirteen whined. “But the night’s still so young!” 

The drive home went by in a blur of substances. The next thing you could remember was your face hitting the pillow with a soft ‘thud;’ a veiled silhouette pulling the blankets up to your chin; the lights clicking off as you gradually faded out of consciousness.

“...sweet dreams, brat.” 

Everything else besides those three words was soon forgotten.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The next morning, you woke up to a searing pain in your forehead - and an insistent knock at  your parents’ front door. 

You groaned as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and threw back the covers, mustering the will to stand. But a soft snore coming from the corner of the room caught your attention before your feet could touch the ground.

Sitting upright in bed now, you turned to face the source of the disturbance - only to find Mammon, shirtless and snoozing on top of your favorite chair in a tangle of limbs and silver bedhead. 

A prism of sunlight streamed in through a crack in the curtains, shining on Mammon’s silver hair like a halo. You cracked a faint smile at his angelic pose, all memories of your embarrassing actions from the night before lost in a haze of tequila and sativa. 

Leaning over the window, you peered down at the walkway below. Somehow, some way, she was standing at the front door.

Mammon’s girlfriend…or ex…or whatever the hell she was.

Her smooth chocolate hair was tossed in an effortlessly messy bun; her gold jewelry shining against olive skin. She was dressed in a minimalist white t-shirt and jeans - a look that was simple but still more expensive than anything you owned.

You snuck a glance at your own reflection in the floor-length mirror hanging from your closet door. Shuddering, you peeled off a crusty fake eyelash that had migrated down your cheek and tossed it carelessly to the side. 

Your eyes were bloodshot from a lack of sleep and an excess of weed. Down to your bottom layers, you still smelled like stale beer. And don’t even ask about your hair. 

At least you were wearing clean clothes. On the way to bed, someone - hopefully Thirteen - must have helped you peel off your dress from last night. Whoever it was had also changed you into one of the spare t-shirts Levi kept in your dresser… 

This, of course, meant that there was no way that Mammon could be in here right now without having seen your underwear at some point.

Though your cheeks burned with embarrassment, you didn’t have time to dwell on that thought for long. Your shame spiral was swiftly interrupted by another impatient knock on the front door. 

Quickly, you shook all thoughts of last night out of your mind; you had more important problems to strategize, starting with what you looked (and smelled) like. 

First, deodorant. The plastic tube lived on top of your vanity. The only problem? Mammon was currently asleep in the chair you normally sat in to do your makeup, blocking the very place you needed to reach. 

This is just great, you thought as you tiptoed across the bedroom and paused in front of Mammon’s limp frame.

For a moment, you stared at the puzzle before you, briefly wondering how the hell you had gotten yourself in this situation in the first place… But you didn’t have the luxury of time. You needed to take action.

As carefully as you tried not to wake him, Mammon stirred and mumbled in his sleep as soon as you leaned over his shoulder to grasp the powdery stick.

“Nngh, Y/n…” he grumbled, half-awake as his head lolled to the opposite side. “I didn’t kiss her… she kissed me…”

The sound of your name in Mammon’s sleepy drawl was enough to fuel all your late-night fantasies for a year. But that wasn’t all: Mammon was clearly talking about last night in his sleep. And wait a minute… was he talking about her? 

Was he talking about what you had seen?

Mammon’s eyelids fluttered open for the briefest of moments, just long enough to let you know that he knew exactly what he was saying - and that he meant to say it directly to you. 

“Nothing happened,” he murmured groggily. “She kissed me…I just…dragged her off to talk about it…”

And, just like that, Mammon closed his eyes and resumed his peaceful snoring. 

You couldn’t help but crack a smile as you straightened and backed away. 

Applying deodorant as you went, you gently tiptoed backwards, until you caught your foot on a piece of silky black fabric. 

You reached down and picked it up, rubbing the luxurious fabric between your fingertips. The stench of last night’s open bar, mixed with the familiar musky aroma of Mammon’s cologne, told you exactly what this was.... 

His shirt from the night before.

That smile on your face spread even wider. Oh, you were going to get her back…

You were going to get her good.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

You answered the door wearing nothing but your bra, panties, and Mammon’s silk shirt. Her perfect manicure and annoyed expression greeted you on the other side. 

She gave your outfit a once over (though the term ‘outfit’ was generous for the amount of fabric you were wearing). But if not for a single blink of surprise, you might have assumed she hadn’t seen you at all. 

“Is Mammon here?” she asked.

Clearly, the woman wasted no time. But that was okay. You still had another ace up your sleeve.

Smirking, you cocked your head to one side, leaning on the doorframe. 

“Maybe,” you answered coyly. “I can’t confirm or deny.”

She huffed in frustration. “Well, if he is, can you tell him to get down here?”

“Sure,” you replied sweetly. 

She tapped her foot impatiently as you walked toward the stairs with a whirl of your hair. 

You made a big show of walking slowly, swaying your hips alluringly from side to side - then, as you approached the base of the staircase, you casually called to her over your shoulder.

“Oh, and by the way,” you said conversationally, “I heard you’re back together… “

She scoffed. “Yeah, and?”

You smiled innocently. “And it’s okay with me.” 

“Oh, is it?” She snorted indignantly, crossing her arms. “Well, then. Thanks for your permission.”

“No problem,” you replied, offering a sly smile in response to her scowl. “...I’ve been known to share.”

With a final wink, you began your victorious ascent up the staircase. 

You never turned back or gave her a second look - only laughed quietly to yourself as you heard her utterances of frustration, and the door slamming behind her as she stormed off into the distance…

Yeah, you had a feeling she wouldn’t be back this time.

T A G L I S T : @devildomditzy

I F Y O U L I K E D T H I S, then please message me or leave me an ask (off anon) to be added to the taglist!

[andy-15-07]

Love in the Chaos

pairing: Aaron Taylor Johnson x female!reader

word count: 1155 | requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Aaron Taylor Johnson Masterlist

"Y/n, have you seen my blue shirt?" Aaron called from the bedroom, his voice slightly muffled.

"I think it's in the laundry basket, love," you replied from the kitchen, where you were meticulously arranging a charcuterie board. Tonight was date night, a rare and precious occasion for you and Aaron. After months of juggling work, school runs, and the whirlwind of raising two young children, you were finally escaping for a few hours. Your parents had graciously offered to babysit, and you were determined to make the most of it.

"Ah, you're right," Aaron reappeared, the blue shirt now in hand. He grinned at you, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "You know, sometimes I think you have a secret organization system for all our belongings."

You chuckled, "If only! It’s more like controlled chaos." You glanced at the clock. "Kids are finally down, right?"

"Sleeping like little angels," Aaron confirmed, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into a gentle hug. "They were surprisingly easy tonight. Maybe they sensed our desperation for freedom."

"Let's hope it stays that way," you said, leaning into his embrace. "I’d hate for Grandma and Grandpa to have a wrestling match at bedtime."

"Speaking of which," Aaron said, releasing you and grabbing his wallet from the dresser, "I should probably run to the store and grab that bottle of wine we talked about. Red, right?"

"Perfect," you replied, gesturing to the charcuterie board. "And maybe some fancy cheese. The kids won't appreciate it, so we can indulge."

"Consider it done," Aaron said, giving you a quick kiss before heading out the door.

You surveyed the kitchen, a smile playing on your lips. The babysitter was coming in an hour, giving you just enough time to get ready without rushing. You finished arranging the charcuterie board, adding a few sprigs of rosemary for a touch of elegance. Then, you headed upstairs to get ready.

As you were changing, your phone buzzed. It was a text from Aaron: "Found the perfect wine. And I may have also picked up some dark chocolate. Just sayin'..."

You smiled, replying with a string of heart emojis. He knew you so well. A quiet evening with good food, good wine, and even better company was your idea of heaven.

A little while later, Aaron returned, a bottle of wine and a bag of groceries in hand. "I also grabbed some flowers," he announced, presenting a small bouquet of vibrant lilies.

"They're beautiful," you said, taking the flowers and inhaling their sweet fragrance. "Thank you."

"You deserve them," Aaron said softly, his eyes filled with affection. "You deserve a night off."

The doorbell rang, signaling the arrival of the babysitter. Your parents came in, beaming and ready for their mission. After a quick briefing about bedtime routines and emergency contacts, you and Aaron were finally out the door, hand in hand.

"Where are we going?" you asked as Aaron led you to his car.

"It's a surprise," he said with a wink. "But I promise you'll love it."

He drove for about twenty minutes, taking you to a charming little Italian restaurant tucked away in a quiet neighborhood. The restaurant was dimly lit, with cozy tables and the soft murmur of conversation filling the air. It was the perfect setting for a romantic date night.

"This place looks amazing," you said as you were shown to your table.

"I knew you'd like it," Aaron replied, pulling out your chair.

You settled into your seats, feeling a sense of calm wash over you. It was so nice to be out, just the two of you, without the constant demands of parenthood.

"So," Aaron said, after you'd ordered drinks, "what have you been up to lately? Besides being a supermom, of course."

You laughed, "Well, work has been crazy busy. But I finally finished that big project I was telling you about."

"That's fantastic!" Aaron exclaimed, raising his glass. "To your success!"

You clinked glasses and took a sip of your wine. The conversation flowed easily, as it always did between you and Aaron. You talked about work, your kids, your dreams for the future. You laughed, you reminisced, and you simply enjoyed each other's company.

As the evening progressed, the conversation turned more personal.

"You know," Aaron said, his voice softening, "I don't tell you this enough, but I'm so grateful for you. You're an incredible mother, an amazing partner, and my best friend."

Your heart swelled with warmth. "Thank you, Aaron," you replied, your voice thick with emotion. "I feel the same way about you. You're my rock, my support system, and the love of my life."

He reached across the table and took your hand, his touch sending shivers down your spine. "I love you, Y/n," he said, his eyes locking with yours.

"I love you too, Aaron," you whispered back.

For a moment, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you, connected by an invisible thread of love and understanding.

After dinner, Aaron surprised you with a walk along the riverbank. The moon was full, casting a silvery glow on the water. You strolled hand in hand, enjoying the peacefulness of the night.

"This is perfect," you said, leaning your head on Aaron's shoulder.

"It is," he agreed. "Just like you."

You smiled, feeling completely content. This was exactly what you needed – a night to reconnect, to recharge, to remember why you fell in love in the first place.

As you walked back to the car, you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt about leaving the kids. But then you remembered something Aaron had said earlier: "Happy parents, happy kids." You knew that taking time for yourselves was essential for the health and well-being of your family.

When you arrived home, your parents were waiting for you, both kids fast asleep.

"They were perfect angels," your mom said with a smile.

"Thank you so much for watching them," you said, feeling a wave of gratitude.

"Anytime," your dad replied. "You two deserve a night out."

After your parents left, you and Aaron went upstairs, careful not to wake the kids. You changed into your pajamas and snuggled into bed, feeling tired but happy.

"Tonight was amazing," you said, turning to face Aaron.

"It was," he agreed, kissing you softly on the lips. "We should do it more often."

"Definitely," you said, closing your eyes and drifting off to sleep, feeling loved and cherished.

The next morning, you woke up to the sound of your kids giggling downstairs. You and Aaron exchanged a look, a mixture of amusement and exhaustion. The date night was over, and it was back to reality. But you both knew that the memories of the evening would stay with you, a reminder of the love and connection that bound you together. And that, you realized, was more valuable than anything.