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#(this is so random but i could NOT get it out of my head)
januaryembrs · 3 days
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WHEN YOU KNOW, YOU KNOW | Spencer Reid x Sunshine!Reader
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Description: Sunshine rookie gets a boyfriend, and Spencer can’t help but thing he would be so much better for her. But that definitely isn’t the jealousy talking, right?
Length: 8k
Warnings: nothing really, jealousy? talks of sex? embarrassment? Mention briefly of vomit because of allergic reaction.
main masterlist.
author’s note: I want to write for these two until my fingers are two little stubs and even then I’ll learn with my toes. Can be read as a stand alone!
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He thought he was going to be sick when he saw her that random Thursday, leaning against her desk, a sweet, bashful smile on her face. Or, more specifically, Spencer thought he was going to need to at least sit down when he saw the man standing next to her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, the little daisy earrings Penelope bought her for her birthday almost laughing at his gobsmacked expression. 
He liked Agent Taylor Bingley. He respected the fresh faced desk jockey from the third floor that swanned around their bullpen, usually discussing warm up routines with Luke. He was quick on his feet, a pretty decent shot. Never missed a report, never tardy, even offered his parking spot up to Spencer on more than one occasion because he didn’t mind the long walk from the other lot. He flew under the radar, and when he was noticed, it was because he was a particularly kind soul. 
Spencer didn’t think he’d ever seen him without those rosy cheeks that made him look almost always sunburnt, or that trademark boyish grin a handsome guy like him had down to a tea. So it really shouldn’t have been such a surprise to see him lingering around his sunshine girl. 
Except she wasn’t his, not by a mile. They just spent almost every second of the work day together.
“Check it out, rookie has an admirer,” Tara said, the heels clicking against the floor as she passed the door, where Spencer seemed to have stopped, his eyes narrowing at the happy couple, “Can’t say I blame him. She’s a pretty girl, don’t you think, Spence?”
She didn’t realise she was rubbing salt in a superficial wound, but Spencer felt his jaw feather with annoyance. Because she was beyond a pretty girl, she was honey and all the months of Spring and a hot drink on a rainy day and finishing a good book and the dessert your mom let you have on your tenth birthday. Not that he could admit that. So he just nodded, right as Taylor leaned over to kiss the apple of her cheek. 
She shied away, smiling to her lap and playing with her fingertips, not looking up from her little potted plant that sat next to her on her desk, and Spencer knew it was because she floundered when people gave her too much attention.
Like when Garcia had said her blouse and bun combo she’d worn the other day made her look like a sexy teaching assistant, she’d stammered something close to a thankyou and headed to the kitchenette to get herself a glass of water. Or when Rossi had said the bangs she had cut herself two weeks ago looked cute, that his daughter had been desperate to try something similar, she’d spilled her coffee down her front not even two seconds later because she had been so occupied telling the man it was no big deal. 
“Morning, Doctor Reid, Doctor Lewis,” Taylor said, his pearly white teeth gleaming with that West Coast, surfer boy tan that made Spencer want to huff. The man was insufferable. Well, correction, he was insufferably nice for someone Spencer was desperate to pick apart with faults the second he’d seen her preening over their sunshine rookie. 
“Morning, Agent Bingley,” Tara said civilly, smiling back at the Agent that passed them to head to the elevators. She caught a glimpse of Spencer, and was quick to make herself scarce in the interest of needing to check in with Penelope, because she knew what that stormy look in his eye and the way his lips pressed into a thin line meant, profiler or not. 
Spencer didn’t pay much attention to Lewis leaving his side, not that he was trying to be rude, his eyes were zeroed in on the way she fumbled around her desk, looking for imaginary mess to tidy, which included rearranging the pots of glitter pens and highlighters next to her monitor, only to put them back exactly how they were before. 
“Agent Bingley, that’s new,” Came a voice over her shoulder, that made her jump in her seat, and her expression was skittish when she swivelled around, Spencer towering over her with calculating eyes. Luke rolled his chair around the divider to lean in on the conversation, having witnessed the whole thing in high definition since her desk was right next to his. 
“Oh, Taylor?” She squeaked, and Spencer didn’t need to touch her face to know it had gone hot just by the way she simpered and fiddled with the hem of her knee length skirt, avoiding their gaze, “Yeah, he took me to the aquarium at the weekend and we got lunch. It’s not really serious or anything, I don’t think,” 
She seemed unsure, her lips pursed together and a tiny crease between her brow he hated, and it was then Luke’s deep laugh rumbled next to them. 
“Does he know that?” Luke asked, and she shot him a look, wide eyed and confused, as he cleared his throat, “I was thinking I could take you out again in that pretty red dress-”
She threw a wad of scrunched up notepaper at him, an embarrassed smile on her face as she shook her head at him, “You have spent way too much time with Penelope, you’re turning into gossiping school children,” 
But she seemed happy, like the thought of the conversation she’d had with Agent Bingley made her all the more girlish herself as she giggled lightly, her gaze meeting Spencer’s empty expression. He wished he could hide his jealousy better, perhaps even seem happy for her. She deserved someone soft and saccharine and humane like Bingley, not a rough shell of what once was a brilliant man. He knew he should feel somewhat pleased for her, at least now he had empirical, hard evidence on why he couldn’t have her, but he couldn’t. 
“All I’m saying, rookie, is if you got that man bringing you breakfast and sweet talking you after one date, you’ll have him wrapped around your pinky by the time he’s your boyfriend,” Luke chuckled, and Spencer thought he might just burst a vessel with how hard he clenched his jaw at that dreaded b word. 
Alvez had no idea just how much he had twisted a knife in Spencer’s gut, which was plunged even further when he saw that sparkle in her eye when she looked up at him. 
“Ignore him, he’s a busy body,” She chirped, her teeth peeking from her lips when she hid a grin, “You wanna get coffee later? Taylor brought me tea and I’m dying for the good stuff,” 
Spencer nodded with a small smile, because her attitude was infectious, and selfishly thinking that Bingley couldn’t be that perfect for her because she only ever wanted tea when she felt sick, usually towards the start of the month that he guessed was in correlation with her menstrual cycle but would never ask. She wouldn’t want tea for another two weeks, and would likely take an extra shot in her cappuccino today because this was when she felt the most lethargic.  
Swivelling back around in her chair to log onto her computer, she remained completely oblivious to his inner turmoil. 
For once, Spencer wished he’d been late to work.
Two months. They had been dating for two fucking months. As far as Spencer could tell, from Penelope’s need to chatter about their sunshine rookie and her hot, stud muffin of a boyfriend, things had only been official for about five weeks of that time, but it hadn’t stopped Spencer from wanting to swallow glass because that would likely be less inconvenient than seeing the two of them together. 
Taylor usually brought her breakfast whenever they would get back from a case, which infuriated Spencer because he always bought her tea. She was a people pleaser, Spencer knew it before he had ever thought of her as anything other than the shiny newbie with too much joy and doe eyes he’d never seen before. But now, knowing her better than anyone else in the office did because she practically shadowed his footsteps, it was blaringly obvious to him that she had either never told him she didn’t like tea first thing in the morning, or he had never bothered to take notice. 
Spencer felt an odd puddle of smugness and fury when on more than one occasion he saw her pouring it down the drain, cold after sitting there for hours until it was unbearable and she couldn’t force herself to drink anymore. It was obvious to him, so why wasn’t it obvious to her own boyfriend? Spencer thought bitterly. But then Agent Bingley did leave a sour taste in his mouth these days.
Speaking of which, Spencer felt that pang in his chest the way he always did when the happy couple walked into the office together. Her hand was usually in his, though she seemed to simper under the weight of the team's glances; knowing and teasing as he’d take her to her desk and whip out the to-go pastries that he’d bought them that morning. 
“Morning, Spence,” She skipped past his desk, Taylor trailing behind her like a dog, though she seemed not to mind keeping him waiting a moment as she spoke to her friend, “How was Doctor Who?”
He smiled despite his grudge, because she always remembered what he said. He’d told her once that Thursdays were his evening to watch the show, and every time Friday morning rolled around, she’d bound up to lean over his computer and ask. 
“It was okay, I’m excited to see what they do with a Female Doctor, even if I’ll miss Capaldi,” He replied earnestly, and her eyes filled with glee. 
“Did they give her a new one of the doo-hickies they have?” She asked, his chest butterflying with an aching sort of affection because she seemed to remember everything he ever told her. 
“Sonic Screwdriver?” She nodded her head, even though Spencer knew she didn’t quite understand the show entirely, “Yeah, I prefer Sarah Jane’s Sonic Lipstick however,” 
“I wish I had one of those, I could reapply and save the world, how cool would that be?” She said, and they laughed together a little, before Taylor popped his head over Spencer’s computer with that dentist white beam and his excitable eyes, bluer than any sea rolling onto shore. 
“Morning, Doctor Reid,” Agent Bingley said, and the smile withered from Spencer’s face, morphing into a civil nod, his expression unreadable. 
“Morning, Agent,” He said, his eyes tracking back to his screen as he suddenly found Emily’s group email about staff room fridge etiquette invigorating. 
Taylor must have taken it as a sign the Doctor Reid was busy and finally let him have a minutes peace, that is until she took a seat at her desk and he leaned next to her, handing her a warm bagel. 
Spencer heard them chatting for about ten minutes, of which he was trying anything to tune them out, including roping Luke into their own conversation. It wasn’t until there was a lapse in the chatter that Spencer’s ears pricked up, and he heard her stand up from her desk, eyes wide as she spat a mouthful out into a tissue. 
“Does this have coconut in it?” She asked somewhat fearfully, Spencer’s head whipping around to her little corner of the bullpen. Her little self help stickers dotted around her desktop stared back at him, her reminder to ‘drink water’ almost horribly ironic the second he’d heard her question. 
His stomach dropped when Taylor frowned, “Yeah, it’s coconut and raspberry, is-is that not okay?” 
Spencer was quick to stand up out of his own seat, rifling through his satchel to dig out his water bottle, making it to her desk in just two long paces and handing it to her without another word as she looked up at him worriedly. 
“If you need to puke, it’ll probably be for the best so that you can get the traces out of your stomach. You can’t have the steroids before you hurl or it won’t work,” He soothed, and she nodded, sipping on his water with shaky hands, and Spencer was quick to catch the way her skin had a slight sheen to it that hadn’t been there before. He put a hand on her shoulder, trying to gage if she was well enough to make it to the bathroom on her own or if he would need to drive her to the ER. Either way her expression worried him. 
“I-I thought it was white chocolate,” She peeped, looking extremely sorry for herself as she dumped the chewed up brownie in her bin, and Taylor almost appeared at her side, looking entirely lost as he stroked a hand down her hair. 
“Talk to me, what’s wrong?” He asked, seafoam hues trailing down her sweating face in terror. 
“She’s allergic to coconut,” Spencer cut in, his tone a little harsher than needed, and her boyfriend’s expression wilted like a kicked puppy. 
“Shit! You never mentioned, I’m so- I’m so sorry, honey,” Taylor went pale, and she didn’t look much better as she pushed past the two of them, heading for the bathroom, Spencer a single pace behind her. 
“I got her, don’t worry,” He called over his shoulder to Agent Bingley standing there like a gaping fish, his hand running through his blonde sweep as he watched her all but running out of the office, Spencer’s long legs keeping up with her. 
“Is your skin getting prickly yet?” Spencer asked. Swouldn't go into anaphylaxis, at least not as far as they knew, but the large hives that would appear on her chest and neck and the vomiting was not ideal. She kept a tray of steroids in her desk incase an accidental cross contamination happened (and because Spencer had forced her to have some on hand), but seeing her panicked eyes as she tasted the chalky fruit had made him fawn over her like she was marked for the plague. 
“Neck is getting itchy,” She replied, tugging at her collar and pushing the door to the unisex bathrooms open, heading for the nearest stall, “You don’t have to stay for this bit, it’s not-”
He cut her off by sweeping her hair into a ponytail, as if to tell her to stop worrying about him, and he stroked a hand over her arm to let her know he was right there, because he knew she really hated anything gory and gross like that. 
He hushed her when she’d try to apologise, hand her his bottle of water in between moments where her whole body seized.
And for a minute, she thought that Spencer might be the only person who she’d ever let see her like this. Not Luke, or Garcia and certainly not Taylor. 
The thought of it kept her quiet for the rest of the morning. 
-
They seemed to move past the whole debacle quickly. Luke said Taylor had taken her to a fancy restaurant uptown to apologise, making a huge point to avoid the coconut banoffee pudding like it was an explosive. 
“You guys are so cute, you’re like Jane and he’s literally your Bingley. I swear your kids are going to be sweet enough I could drizzle them right next to ice cream,” Penelope said over the SUV console speaker, Spencer in the driving seat and her in the passenger, flicking through her files as they approached the victim’s house. 
The rookie blanched, “Woah, woah, kids?” She protested, and even Spencer felt himself nearly swerve the minute the bubbly IT geek said it. She looked shaken, awkwardly chuckling and reaching to tuck hair behind her ear, “Slow down, Garcia, we’ve not even- you know what, I think we’re talking about the wrong thing here-“ 
“You’ve not even what?” Penelope burst out, her need for the lastest gossip overwhelming the reading of the room. She swallowed heavily, shifting in her seat to face out of the window, her knees touching the door with a thud, “Have you guys not had sex yet?” 
“Penelope!” The woman screeched, her face hot and gobsmacked that she’d even said it out loud. 
But it was telling enough, and Spencer’s face whirled over the console to her, guilt written on her features. 
“I just assumed you guys had done it seeing as both of you are the hottest couple I know, I mean I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you if I was a guy-“ Penelope tried to save herself in the only way she knew how, by digging herself a deeper hole. 
Spencer’s hand shot out for the centre screen, “We’re losing you, Garcia, you’re breaking up, bye,” He pressed the end call button, and he didn’t need to look at the girl’s face to know she was the epitome of mortified. 
Spencer opened his mouth to say something, the awkward silence of the car killing him as much as he knew it was her, but he thought better of it and clamped his mouth shut. It took him a minute before he opened his mouth to speak again, if not to ask her if she wanted to stop at a drive thru for breakfast, but she beat him to it. 
“I was going to say we’ve not even said I love you yet,” She murmured, keeping her body entirely swivelled away from him, her arms crossed over her chest in an attempt to make herself smaller, as if she could just smush herself into the seat so he wouldn’t say anything. She cleared her throat, scratching her wrist nervously, “But I guess that’s also true too,” 
“Why not?” Her eyes snapped onto Spencer when he braved those two words, and he sensed he’d overstepped some sort of boundary before he realised it sounded like he’d been speaking about the latter, “Why haven’t you said it?” He clarified. 
She went quiet, her shoulders shrugging being the only sign that she’d heard him, gaze trailing back out her window. 
“He’s not said it yet either, and I don’t think I want him to. Not yet at least,” Her voice was soft, heavy as if every single one of them was coming from her heart, “Love is such a big emotion I think if he did say it, I wouldn’t know how to respond. Like, if I’m going to say it back to someone, I want to be sure I feel it otherwise it’s like I’m betraying everyone else’s version of love, you know?” 
He thought she might just be an angel bottled up and thrown into his life, and he sometimes wished he could take a look inside that head of hers because how she had protected her beautiful look on the world after seeing so much hurt staggered him. He had become cruel and cold and heavy where she looked at the lecherous shithole heading for disaster they called Earth and saw right to its soul, gave it a hug, told it she would care even when no one else would. 
He tore his eyes from the road, and took in the outline of her face, mindlessly watching the pedestrians on their daily commute to grab lunch, a dog peeing against a lamp post, a motorcyclist bobbing and weaving in between the midday traffic, her doe eyes never missing a trick.
Forcing his gaping expression back on the road, because he might just swerve and hit the damn rider off his bike if he let himself get lost in his little dreamscape that consisted of nothing but her and her face and her thoughts and her words, he cleared his throat, not sure how to add to the poetic, rose tint she seemed to see the world in.
“That’s good, that you’re taking things at your own pace, atleast,” He said, not particularly profound but at least it was something, “You shouldn’t do things just because someone else wants you to, even if you think it would make them happy,”
“But I like making people happy,” She countered, her expression troubled as she looked over at him with a quirked brow, “I like making you happy especially,”
“What makes you think I’m not happy?” Spencer asked, his mouth drying up, his stomach flipping in cartwheels when she giggled to herself like for once she was the smart one snd he was the one who needed teaching.
“It took you three and a half weeks to crack a smile when we first started working together,” His jaw clenched, because he was the one who counted the statistics. Perhaps he was rubbing off on her. “Honestly, I thought you hated me. I thought a seasoned agent like yourself probably would get frustrated teaching the dumb newbie the ABC’s, even ones that admire him. But then I thought, instead of getting so butt hurt about it all, I could just give you a reason to smile and you’d see that I’m not just a useless rookie learning to roll over for treats.”
Spencer’s throat bobbed. He’d hate himself forever for being so cruel to her those first few weeks, the clipped tones when she’d add something in a particularly chirpy voice, the way he would forget his manners sometimes when she’d bring him a coffee, because his head had been so deep in survival mode that being nice didn’t matter. Being nice had got him nowhere in Mexico, in fact it had shown his soft underbelly and drawn a target on it. 
“I never hated you,” His voice croaked out, weak and pathetic, and it's times like that he remembered ten years ago talking to her would have made him blush, pop a boner, and lose half his IQ all in one go. Coughing, his knuckles turned white at the wheel, and he avoids her gaze that feels like a pitfall trap, “It’s difficult to go back to how you used to be when you’ve got a thousand eyes on your back waiting for you to lower your guard,”
“I know, I know that now, I jus-” She floundered, worried she’d touched a nerve, but he stopped her by leaning over the console and putting a gentle hand on her kneecap.
“Relax, I know I wasn’t the most pleasant person to be around,” Spencer said, his timbre quiet but honest, “You were one of the few things I looked forward to, if I’m honest.”
“Really?” She said, agog, like she was waiting for him to turn around and say it had been a joke, “You didn’t think I’m too loud or, like, too much?”
“How can there be too much of you? If your body wasn’t in correct proportion, your organs wouldn't function-”
“Spencer,” She said, though he knew she was smiling even without having to look, “You know that’s not what I meant,”
“I know,” He replied, a smug little smile quirking on his own lips because he loved making her happy too, “No, I could never find you too much.”
She simpered under his words, his hand a stoked flame on her skin as she brought her fingers over the top of them to squeeze them together, before she changed the subject because she knew her cheeks might just explode if they heated anymore.
They were back from a long case, one that had made everyone tired and grumpy, especially because they needed to swing by the office for an hour of admin even Emily couldn’t wriggle them out of. 
And ofcourse, as he always was when Spencer was feeling like he was already about to strangle someone out of annoyance, Agent Bingley was right there when they entered the lobby.
She hadn’t slept well on the jet, despite Spence loaning her his jumper to use as a pillow, and she was in desperate need of coffee, the kind that Spencer and Penelope forced her to try instead of the cold caramel thing she liked. She’d even go for one of Luke’s zero sugar, zero milk atrocities right now.
“Hey guys, how was the flight?” Taylor jumped in to ask, and everyone gave some sort of variation of a groan because that was exactly how it had felt. His attention turned to her, as she pulled up the rear with Spencer attached her her hip because she had been practically sleepwalking the entire way there, “Hi honey,”
“Taylor, hi,” She said, her eyes perking up when he held out a hot take away cup for her, “You really didn’t have to,”
“Nonsense, herbal tea is supposed to alleviate headaches and help get you to sleep,” He replied, his other hand behind his back quickly whipping out to produce a bunch of flowers in front of her face.
She barely had time to flash him a grin to hide the disappointment that it was nowhere near as caffeinated as she’d like, nor that she didn’t even liked herbal tea, before a bunch of lilies were thrust her way.
“Lillies,” She said, her hand covering her chest at the touching sentiment, “Taylor, you shouldn’t have,”
“I know they’re your favourites,” The blonde replied, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and effectively putting a wall between her and Spencer, whether he meant to or not. Her expression wavered, and Spencer's eyes went straight to her, waiting for her to correct him. Because they weren’t her favourites, not even in her top five. Hyacinths were. Or Foxglove. Or Delphiniums. Not Lillies. 
She nodded wordlessly, and the three of them headed for the lift, where the rest of the team held the door for them, her expression tiptoeing between guilty and smiling, Taylor’s almost ecstatic to see her after her long few days away, and Spencer’s entirely pissed off that the sun kissed jerk couldn’t see every sign blaring in his face. 
“I might have to cut off the stamen when Ace comes over,” She queried, her eyes roving over the beautiful white petals opening towards her like a book.
“Ace? Who’s Ace?” He said, and Spencer and JJ exchanged a glance, because the whole elevator was now privy to their conversation as David pressed the six button. Taylor reached forward to push the three for himself.
“The dog I foster sometimes, the one I told you about. He helps me when I need to talk through some things. He’s a very good listener,,” She said with a dopey smile on her face, her eyes casting over her boyfriends face with a willing expression, because she knew for a fact she’d told him at lengths about the bouncy Spaniel that adored her, “He comes over for playdates, but the pollen inside lilies are poisonous to dogs,”
Taylor scrunched his nose up, “Ugh, I hate dogs, they’re so slobbery and the always seem to smell awful,” He commented, her face dropping the slightest in a way that made Spencer’s hand curl into a fist, because how dare Agent Bingley take that away from her, “I thought you were a cat person?”
“I like them both equally, but Ace is sweet. He curls up on my legs after we’ve gone for a walk,” Taylor still didn’t seem convinced, and she felt stupid for even mentioning it, well aware that the rest of her team were listening in on her childish description of the old dog that wanted nothing but love. 
“Why do you need a dog to talk anyway, babe? You have me,” Taylor said, in a way that was supposed to sound comforting but made Spencer want to shake him and tell him to listen to a damn word she was saying. Her eyes dimmed, and she looked at the lilies again, feeling entirely ungrateful for wishing they were something else, and the elevator doors opened onto the third floor. Taylor kissed her cheek and waltzed out of the lift with a quick goodbye to her team that was returned in murmurs. Turning to look at her, his body already in the anteroom of his own floor, he smiled sweetly at her, “I love you,”
JJ and Emily whipped their heads to her face, expecting to see some kind of puppy love blossom there, only to find wide-eyed panic, her smile slowly slipping. Rossi cleared his throat when she said nothing, the air turning stale as the team waited for her response, Taylor looking at her expectantly, and she wished the ground would open up then and there to swallow her whole, because that would probably be better than whatever this was.
Tara nudged her shoulder, waking her out of her daze, Luke scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, and it was then after a beat more of silence that Taylor opened his mouth again, “Babe, did you hear what I-”
She leaned forward to press the close door button, her doe hues in full flight mode, her fingers only picking up the pace when her boyfriend took a step closer towards the elevator, and Emily brought a hand over her mouth in muffled laughter when the doors slammed shut in front of him, their sunshine rookie entirely spooked and needing a quick exit.
The tiny metal box went silent, Spencer watching her face meld from alarm to horror, to sheer embarrassment.
“I mean, I’ll give it to you kid, that’s one way to do it,” Rossi said, patting her on the back and she shoved her face in her hands, the stems of the dove white flowers brushing against her cheek roughly.
“Please tell me that didn’t just happen,” She groaned through her fingers, JJ chuckling as the doors to their own floor opened up.
“Oh honey,” She said, rubbing the girl’s back gently, leading her out onto the BAU carpet that felt harsher against the souls of her shoes than it ever had before, “I think what you need is a coffee and a long talk with someone who isn’t a dog,”
Spencer watched her shuffle to slump down behind her desk, her expression still rattled and lost, JJ’s eyes flicking to him every now and then in a way that urged him to be the one to do just that because it was obvious by now who she talked the most openly to in the office.
But by the time he’d braved walking over to her desk, she’d already rushed through her report, excusing herself home for the day, and he knew her well enough to know she needed some breathing room before he could approach the subject, otherwise she would shut the doors on him too.
He hated the spiteful part of him that revelled in Taylor’s expression when that metal screen had slammed in his face.
It was three days later, and she had enforced a strict ban on talking about that day in the office. For once she didn’t look like she was going to break her resolve either, since every time someone tried to weasel information of her she would either pretend she hadn’t heard, or would excuse herself to make her fifth coffee of the day, or even had thrown her paperwork on the floor when Luke had pushed her for an answer just for an excuse to avoid the topic.
In fact, Spencer himself had been tempted to get her alone because he knew she would crack without much pressure from him, though the thought of using her trusting nature against her seemed wicked, and so he stopped himself and settled for curiosity.
It wasn’t until they were away on a case and they were shoved in a room together that the subject of Taylor was even brought up, and even then it was entirely out of his control.
“I’ll take the couch,” Spencer said, his eyes falling on the double bed in the centre of the room, striding over the other side of the room to throw his to go bag down on the two seater sofa that would wreck his back.
“Don’t be silly, we can just share the bed.” She said, as if it was the most obvious solution, which it was, “I sleep talk a little, but just give me a shove and I’ll shut up,” 
Spencer paused, watching her fumbling around her bag for her toothbrush and paste.
“Won’t your boyfriend mind?” He asked, his palms clammy because he worried for a moment it was wrong to bring it up, and his chest butterflied when she froze, “Sorry, I know you didn’t want to talk about it, I just thought I wouldn’t like my girlfriend sharing a bed-”
“We broke up,” She said, taking pulling a large pink shirt out her bag and some strawberry printed shorts, her toiletries stuffed in her pockets, “So don’t worry about any of that stuff, we can share,”
And she waltzed into the bathroom without any more explanation, the lock clicking behind her and leaving Spencer alone with his thoughts.
They had broken up? Was it because of what happened in the elevator? Was it because of what Penelope said in the car? Was she the one to break up with him or the other way around?
Spencer felt like a gossip, even though his thoughts had gone no further than his cranium, and by the time she emerged from the bathroom, fresh faced and in her pyjamas, he had already changed himself, tucked himself under the cover in the hope she understood they didn’t need to talk about it if she didn’t want to.
She smiled at him, tucking her dirty clothes back in her bag and heading for the bed, slipping under the plush duvet with a soft ooft. 
“Light on or off?” She asked, her finger hovering over the switch beside their bed.
“On, if that’s okay?” He replied and she nodded wordlessly, shuffling down under the covers, pulling them up to just below her armpits. Crossing her arms over her stomach like she was snow white waiting to fall into a poison-laced slumber, her eyes bore holes into the ceiling, and his thoughts banged loudly against his temple. The silence of the room seemed to only turn their avoidance tactics into a cacophony they couldn’t ignore.
“If you’re going to ask questions, I might as well tell you before we get back to Quantico.” She said finally, her sigh heavy and exhausted and she looked over at him, his brunette locks splaying over the pillow in waves, his facial hair scratching against the sheet when he flicked his head over to her too. 
Hazel had never been such a pretty colour than when they sat in silence for a moment, staring at one another, almost daring the other to speak first. He swallowed, his mouth watering at how she looked, tucked under the sheets, her body lax and soft under her pyjamas, her hands skimming over her stomach nervously.
“Is it because of the day in the elevator?” Spencer asked after a few minutes, breaths suddenly becoming difficult to regulate naturally unless he forced them to be, because he was so close to her under the covers, his entire body too long and gangly for just a twin bed, he could smell her shampoo and conditioning combo in full force. Her spearmint tongue rolled words around her mouth for a minute, dropping down to his Star Wars shirt he felt childish for wearing the minute he saw her looking at it.
“Kind of, he just wanted us to move so fast, it just kinda made me nervous, but I always thought being nervous was supposed to be good, you know?” She sighed, forgetting to breathe in between her splurge of words that had been building up inside her for weeks, “Like you said the feeling of excitement and fear are almost identical so I think I just convinced myself I was being dumb and I was being a bad person for not just giving him what he wanted. I’m supposed to love him, right? Being his girlfriend and all that,”
He had said that; because scientifically that was exactly correct. The hormones released during love and during fear were, down to their core, chemical matches, and it felt funny she’d remembered that fact considering she made him feel somewhere in between too. He knew she was special, just as much as he knew the idea of tainting her with his core terrified him. Like he secreted some kind of radiation that would ruin her if she got too close for too long. But he couldn’t help it. How do you stop yourself from wanting something good? It was just science. A Pavlovian response. 
“You’re not supposed to do anything. There’s no timeline for how you feel, and you can’t force yourself to feel something any quicker or stronger than you do,” He said, shaking his head when she bit her lip, her fingertips playing with one another ontop of the sheets.
“He wanted to know when I was ready to have…” She swallowed, her cheeks heating, “Intimacy with him. A-and it’s not like I’ve not done it before, I had a boyfriend in high school, but I just felt like with him…”
“He didn’t pressure you, did he?” Spencer asked, his brows furrowing as he felt a surge of annoyance flash through his blood that she had wound herself up so much just because of some guy who couldn’t keep it in his pants for a few months. 
Her eyes widened, taking in the storm brewing in that beautiful woodland gaze of his, and she shook her head quickly, “No, no, nothing like that. This was all on me, it was all just me being dumb,”
“You’re not being dumb just because some guy didn’t like the answer you gave,” He corrected, exhaling deeply and letting his frown drop, because he knew she hated when he did that, “Why didn’t you want to, if you don’t mind me asking?”
She shrugged, looking back up at the dusty lamp shade hanging from the ceiling, the cobwebs that smattered around the wooden panels.
“I don’t know, I just kind of never saw the two of us.. becoming intimate, you know?” She said, her tone sheepish like she was in confession and he was a priest sat on the other side of the divide. He looked over at her, scanning the outline of her face, but she seemed adamant on avoiding his gaze, because she knew she would spill everything the minute she looked at him. With Spencer, there were no secrets, and that was entirely the problem. 
Spencer’s lips pursed, thinking of exactly the right thing to say to such a delicate soul when she was laying herself hypothetically bare for him. 
“You don’t have to be intimate in a relationship if you don’t want to. No one who loves you should ever make you feel like there’s an expectation or like you owe them that,” Spencer explained softly, edging his pinky finger out the tiniest bit to catch the back of her hand that now lay flat on the bed, her head turning up to meet his round forest hues that looked down at her with more softness than he’d felt in a long time. 
He wished he could stay here with her forever. In the quiet of this room, they were just the two of them, not Doctor Reid and the Special Agent he had a huge hopeless crush on that was years his junior and thought she could fix everything wrong with the world. 
“I know,” She sighs, and his heart caught in his throat when her pinky raises up to meet his own, the tips of their fingers brushing against one another like they were meeting each other for a slow dance. He had touched her many times before, but there was something illicit about this time. Like their skin had become oppositely charged and was pulling the other one in with an electric crackle, “He never pressured me but I felt like I could have tried harder to want it.”
“If you don’t want it, you don’t ever have to have it. A lot of people reach your age when your frontal cortex is developed and realise they might be asexual, it’s not a bad thing-” He tried reassuring her, but she was quick to shake her head again, bashfully ripping her eyes away from him to look at their caressing fingertips. 
“No, no. It’s not that I never want to be intimate ever, I just never really felt comfortable around him enough to let myself want it. Like I couldn’t just be me with him, I was just being what he wanted me to be. Like he never really knew the real me,” She explained, and she rolled over onto her side to face him, her other finger coming up to absentmindedly trace over the prominent vein that ran up his arm, stopping just below where his old needle scars were at the crook of his elbow. If she saw them, she didn’t say a word, but Spencer felt like she was trailing a flame over his skin. He thought if she took his manhood in her hand she’d probably get the exact same response from him, because with every invisible swirl and line she drew over his skin, he felt a heat ripping through his loins. “Does that make sense? Like I didn’t think he would like the ikky parts of me so I ended up putting on a charade,” 
“Y-yeah,” He replied, and his stammer made her look up, eyes wide and innocent as she watched him all but falling apart under a single fingertip. God he was pathetic. Mid thirties and nearly finishing in his boxers over a pretty girl touching his arm. Only it wasn’t just a pretty girl. It was her. His sunshine girl. “But I don’t think you have any ikky parts, to be honest,”
Her eyes deepened into pools of awe, and he watched her trail a glance down his nose to his mouth vulnerably.
“Spencer, you’re being too kind,” She whispered, and he swore his chest lurched.
He cleared his throat, and moved to roll over towards her too, hoping to disperse some of the energy that was clogging between them, only for it to become dialled to a hundred, trapping them in a tiny box where they were looking at one another, laying on the bed they were being forced to share and almost holding hands, because committing to full thing was scary like they were ten years old in a playground. 
“Of course that makes sense. It’s much healthier to form intimate relationships with people we trust and feel safe with than rushing into things,” Spencer tried to breeze past the tension, but her breath was fanning over his face, almost tripping him over his words, because she was still looking at him like he knew all the answers. Because he usually did. Except for this time. This time, he felt like he was walking blind towards his point, “Not that one night stands should be shamed or anything, but it’s much better to engage in sexual intercourse with someone when it feels right,”
She breathed out deeply, licking her lips, and her finger movements stopped. 
“So it’s just a when you know, you know, kind of thing?” She asked, her brows pulling together in a saddened frown, “I’m not, like, broken or anything?” 
He sat up on his elbow, grabbing her wrist tight enough she would listen the minute he said it to her, because he never wanted to hear her say that again, “There is nothing wrong with you, you hear me?” She looked up at him with glassy eyes, wide and shocked to see him so desperately insistent over her, “You feeling secure is more important than any guy out there, no matter how nice they are, got it?” 
She nodded after a beat, because she thought her brain might have stopped working with the way he was leaned over her, looking down at her with a glimmer of the harshness he’d been drowning in when she first met him. These days he seemed to have mellowed out the tiniest bit, except the straightforward tone he held with everyone else who wasn’t her, or the general heavy handedness he didn’t seem to realise he was capable of. Like in the way his warm, rough hands gripped the skin of her wrist, his expression somewhat frustrated though not with her as he looked down at where she was half beneath him.
“Spence?” She whispered into the electricity between them, her eyes trailing over his nose again and ghosting over his half attempt at facial hair. They were just whisps, but they suited him embarrassingly well. He didn’t reply, just stared at her to wait for her response, “I feel safe with you, you know that?” 
He swore his heart was thumping out of his chest. She looked divine under his hand, sweet like a pudding begging him to taste, and he couldn’t help it when his thumb trailed up the side of her jaw, brushing just under her bottom lip, and she seemed to press herself further into his touch, a cat being scratched behind velvet ears.
“You’d tell me if you ever wanted me to stop, wouldn’t you?” He murmured, gooseflesh crawling up his arm when she nodded, her eyes boring holes into his soul when she looked up at him like that.  
“Always,” She answered honestly, blinking at him once, twice, before she took a deep breath for courage, “But what if I never wanted you to stop?”
Spencer nearly moaned when he crashed their lips together, and he heard her squeak in delight beneath him, his large hand cupping her jaw, weaving into her hair, tugging her closer. She felt like her was consuming her whole, and she had no qualms about it, not when she reached a hand up to his shoulder and tugged him even more on top of her, the weight of him on her chest comforting and achingly right. 
He pulled away to breathe for a moment, but she was chasing his lips, her touch maddening and he swore his brain switched off when she ran a hand up his spine, slipping under his shirt and tracing over every one of his vertebrae making him shiver. Her lips were stronger than any craving he had ever felt, the instant dopamine rush embarrassing for a man of his age, so hardened by the world reduced to putty, ready to beg for more because now he’d had a taste of her ambrosia, he didn’t think he could ever think straight again. A man sent crazy by forbidden wine.
He pushed her hair away from her face, using his long fingers to wrap around the back of her head and pull her impossibly closer to him, his other arm skirting down to her clothed waist and pressing their bodies together. She whined in his mouth, and Spencer thought he could finally die happy.
He pulled away to let her catch a gasp, her fingers carding through his long, brown curls, scratching against his scalp in a way that drew a low growl from his throat. He needed more, needed her, more than the air he gulped down ravenously and he found himself kissing at her soft neck, her head tipped back in bliss as he kissed every inch he could.
“The reason I didn’t want it with Taylor,” She choked between manic breaths, her hands holding onto him so tight he knew she didn’t have any intention of asking him to stop, “Was because it didn’t feel like this,”
Spencer wove their fingers together, pushing her hand above her head as the other came up to tilt her face towards him, looking into her bleary eyes for a second, their noses ghosting past one another, her mint breath delicious on his lips.
“It never feels like this, baby,” He whispered, their foreheads pressing together before he gave into her again and pressed his lips against hers so hard she whimpered into his mouth.
And she believed him.
--
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screampied · 2 days
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Sukuna/toji suddenly having baby fever (and ofc there's a breeding kink as well) x wife reader. That's it 😔
BABYMAKIN' ★
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છ feat. ઉ — s. ryōmen, t. fushiguro (separate)
cw. fem! reader, wife! reader, going in raw, heavy brēeding kink, pregnancy mentions, breath play, nipple play, degredation, edging, tummy bulge, mdni.
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★ SUKUNA RYŌMEN.
with sukuna— it’s rare for him to experience something as such as baby fever. it’d come out of nowhere to him. he’s never once thought about it until he’s been with you. lewd thoughts starts to purge his mind at the mere image of your tummy being all plump and swollen by his doing. it starts off with real subtle things. it’d be a random evening where you’re doing something to occupy yourself until he approaches you. all bulky arms of his wrap around you and you let off a playful gasp.
“hi sukuna,” you hum, in the midst of turning to face him but he stops you. immediately, his head buries itself into the inner depths of his neck. sharp fangs delicately pierce into your skin before giving it a soft suck. glossy lips of yours smother together, questioning why he’s so clingy today all of a sudden— not that you necessarily minded. “mhm, you’re handsy today. did something happen? should i be scared?”
“fret not,” is all he says in a rough low voice, calloused fingertips continue to roam further down against your backside. slowly, he’s pulling off the pathetic fabric of your sundress, a tongue going over his lip like how an animal prepares to feast. “i’d like to give you something, princess.”
with a soft smile squeezing against your lips, you gasp once you feel a knee of his gently shove between your thighs. “oh,” you murmur, yet it’s in the very form of a piqued question. “what do you wanna give me, ‘kuna?”
“a child,” he purrs, no hesitation whatsoever with his direct answer. “i want to give my future queen a child.”
and he’s very intent on it,
sukuna with baby fever is an entire different version of himself. he hates it, he loathes how he feels so needy.
but he can’t help it,
the moment you comply, he’s dragging you into a hot, boiling kiss. warm heavy breaths fan against your own and his hands rummage all over your body.
two big hands of his is grabbing against your breasts, thumbs of his stroking against your sensitive perky nipples. a raw groan exits from his lips before he pulls away to avert his attention towards your soft mounds. “these’ll be swollen f’r me soon,” he utters, trailing his head down. he lies you flat down on your back, prettily sprawled all out for him. rich velvet hungry eyes stare into you before he then lolls his long demon tongue against your tits. you mewl out a soft gasp, the feeling alone immediately feels tender. “i need them to be swollen.”
there was an almost tremor in his voice as he spoke, you could tell how adamant he was on this entire stance. sukuna’s fangs grow a bit more playful, nipping near your dampened breasts, sucking deeply around the throbbing nubs. he does it in such a slow way too, purposely. he imagines he was drinking something from out of it. the tent in his pants only rises before he props himself up right between your legs. “ugh,” he growls, a long fingernail of his pricking against your panties. “why must you ever wear such useless things, they only get in the way.”
“just take them off, baby,” you tease at him, spreading your legs out a bit further and his shoulders lower.
with a menacing glower, he snarls. “nevermind, they can stay,” and you intently gaze—sukuna’s fingers lazily pries your panties toward the side before getting a closer look. he groans again, feeling the aching pang surround within his cock. “are you sure you’ll let me have my way with you, little one?” and his voice falters into a dangerous low, “my goal’s to give you at least three.”
“. . . just three?” and there’s a jeering tone running against your words. sukuna springs out his hard dick before fisting it a few solid pumps. he grunts, inching it towards your sopping cunt whilst he waits for you to continue speaking. “why not five, ‘kuna? the more the better.”
“woman,” he sucks his teeth, the urge to breed you growing ten times stronger.
hell, you were a force to be reckoned with. your constant teasing only has him more feral than he already was. the fat peeling tip of his shaft slides against your entrance and he’s grinning ardently at the squelches your pussy greets him with. “tch. don’t tempt me,” and as his words grow darker, you moan—feeling the plumpness of his dick rub between your slick. “let’s do seven.”
a taunting smile purses against your lips before you raise a brow, sliding your ankle down his shoulder. you then hum. “seven babies?”
he starts to lower himself inside. it’s a bit compacted at first, a concise tightness before the head of his dick cleaves through your entrance. you’re already soddening him up, feeling him just about to bottom out before he growls. “hah, maybe even nine. who knows, all i know—my love, is that i wanna give you a baby. you’d be such a good mother anyway, beautiful.”
you moan, feeling your cunt already start to constrict around his length. sukuna was so big, he knew it and you knew it too. huge breeder balls, his sack droops a bit as he starts up a pace, barely giving you any time to adjust. “s-sukuna,” you stutter, locking your legs around his waist. his thickness ruts all into you—mashing, churning up your insides like butter.
two hands of his go back towards your bouncing tits, a lengthy nail of his delicately tracing against the skin surrounding it. he just imagines your breasts to be all swollen, filled all up. oh, just the thought alone makes his mouth water. he shifts his weight further against you, directly on top of you now. beloved mating press—he grabs your chin, peeling your bottom lip down before groaning. “look at me, pretty,” and everything feels so raw. sukuna’s thrusts were forevermore immaculate. it’s with the way you’re hearing the sloppy sloshes squeal out of your pussy each millisecond. he’s so deep that you can feel the curve of his dick stretch all throughout you. sukuna leans in for a kiss, a hand trailing down your tummy. “you feel me?” he says between parching hot kisses. “mhm, ‘s where ‘m gonna plant it.”
he rubs a hand against your womb, a bit of pressure going down the more he presses against it and you gasp. the stretch, your stomach was in knots, his tip was so wide—using you as if your cunt was the epitome of the word elastic.
“kiss me more, ‘kuna,” you babble, trembly legs snaking around his slim waist. he was close, you knew the moment you started to hear his breathing pick up. it’s raspy, he darkly snickers. a hand of his cupping your chin, squeezing your spit-glossed lips together before vermillion red eyes takes in every sight of you. “want a kiss.”
“my wife’s greedy as always,” he purrs, warm breath brushing against your lips. his cock’s delving repeatedly against that spot, rummaging through every orifice before your thighs twitch against the curse’s skin. a thumb of his grazes near your lip before he snarls. “very well. stick out your tongue. roll it out just for me.”
without question, you loll out your pink tongue for him, tilting your head back before sukuna leans in to suck on it. whilst he’s still pounding you deep, striking sharp hips sending you to straight oblivion—he gifts you a sloppy kiss. you moan right into his mouth, slinging both arms around his spacious shoulders.
“hnnn,” he growls, occasionally having a hand wrap around your throat. sukuna nips at your tongue enthusiastically, feeling the strands of saliva tangle between each other. his pace starts to pick up and he groans. after what feels like forever though—he suddenly gets more jagged with his hits. after a long while though, sukuna speedily slows down. welts and welts of erotic pressure surfs through the undergoing of his thighs before a single final thrust introduces his nightly anticipated cum.
it comes out in slow listless spurts, sukuna’s eyes were half lidded and he groans. you could almost make out a whine from him as he seeps his fangs deep into your neck. a tongue of his traces against your skin as he’s cascading such thick amounts into your womb. “kunaaa,” you’d huff out, locking both limp legs around his torso. you were throbbing, everything just feels so warm inside. feverish breaths aerate near the outer lobe of your ear before he bites at it — doing anything to try and distract himself from the sensitive state he was in. “f-fuck, ‘s much.”
“keep it a-all in,” he groans, burying his face into the crook of your neck. it’s continuing to trickle into your gummy walls, you’re soaking in it all while your ankle runs down the red lines of his back. “ugh,” he growls, velvety gobbets of seed dripping into your clamped pussy. it’s so sticky, the material sticks against his thighs the moment he tries to pry himself out of you. sukuna looks down with a hungry gaze, a hand smearing against your now filthy cunt. leaning down to bring a kiss towards the hood of your clit, he licks against the new profound mess. “you took all of it like a good queen,” he whirrs in a drowsy tone, tongue lapping against his own mess. he doesn’t want it to go to waste—so he uses his tongue to poke some amounts of it back in. sukuna doesn’t even flinch at the thought of him tasting himself.
so lewd,
a gasp drags out of his lips and he grows quiet. with a scarred hand still pressing over your tummy, it steadily resumes to fill you up. you’re so stuffed that you almost drool. sukuna’s falling more in love each second he spends inside of you. “my my,” was the only words he could mutter out while smudging a clammy thumb against your swollen clit. he’s all up close—he can’t help but bring yet another soft kiss to it, watching your body twitch in lubricious harmony as a response. “she’s so pretty when she’s filled to the fuckin’ brim,” he whispers, his tone becoming a bit softer. claret-shot irises gaze into your cunt and the way it’s spitting out the remnants of his cum, he groans at how messy the entire scene was. “all mine,” and he presents your slit with a final kiss, a teasing mwah before his eyes dart back up at you. “not done with you yet though, princess. still got so much more cum—er, love to give. heh.”
★ TOJI FUSHIGURO.
“i’m gonna fuckin’ get ya pregnant.”
six words,
six simple words and he was determined on carrying out work what he murmured to you.
with toji— he doesn’t necessarily care for the baby part, it’s more with the breeding aspect.
if it’s anything in the world that’s a favorite activity of toji’s, it’s to watch his own sloppy cum ooze out of your cunt.
he craves it, toji presses a wide palm over your mouth so he could listen to the mess—so you could listen to it with him. with baby fever, it’s usually an everyday thing for toji. to keep it short, he’s an ass guy. he can’t help but shift his eyes on your curves, your ass. the way it moves, all he can even think about is having you bent over with that pretty iconic arch of yours. he groans, feeling his boner only grow the more he pictures it.
spank after spank, kissing your ass with mean hits until it’s all sore. he always leaves you full with a whopping dump of his seed too— a cute pout tugs against his lips the minute he feels it pouring out of you. he wants you to savor it, savor every last drop.
“t- toji, hngh oh fuckk,” you whine out, trying to keep up with his merciless sawing strokes. he’s just drilling into you repeatedly. you’re on all fours, clinging onto the sheets with a sweet whine leaving your lips every few seconds. he’s so thick, your mouth breaks open each time you feel his cock jackhammer between your folds. you’re still fully clothed— he couldn’t wait as per usual. he had a long tiring day at work, far too long. toji came home annoyed, laying on your ass for comfort before he’d randomly start to ramble about how cute you’d look with a belly bump. of course—you tease him about it, and now you’re like this. “s’ full, ‘s gonna spill out, toji.”
a hand of his smacks against your ass again. “baby,” and you jolt forward, your head smushing against the fabric of the satiny covered pillow. “if it spills out, i’ll just lick it back in,” and a dark cackle shortly follows. you shouldn’t be surprised, it’s toji. he was an all around freak when it came to being underneath the crimson red sheets. the angle, it’s so filthy. your ass was pulled all the way up against him and you’re taking every inch, every single inch. you gasp, feeling his angry tip swipe against your g-spot and it snatches out a whine from you. “yeah? jus’ like that baby girl, fuck back against me. gimme that pretty ass.”
toji can’t help but be handsy. sharp swats of his hand goes against your skin— and in the process, you arch forward.
he’s buried deep, you feel the mouthwatering outline of his dick carve its way inside before you whine out. “ah- ah- ah, ‘m gonna cum again, toji,” and his hips were raunchily ruthless.
so fucking sharp—you gasp, feeling him drag a thumb down towards your untouched neglected hole to play with it just because. you bite your lip, feeling the center of his thumb nudge against it. you’re puckering in response and he snickers. “t- toji, tojiiii.”
“careful. keep moanin’ my name like that ‘n i’m gonna give you fuckin’ twins.” he grunts, swollen balls hitting back and forth against you. you’re so dizzy.
the room had a sweet mixture of sweat and pure intimacy. a rough hand of his trails down your spine, feeling towards your stomach. you’re facing the opposite direction. the serrated ricocheting bounces of your own ass against him rings throughout your ears uninterruptedly. through his darkened peripherals, he catches you trying to play with yourself, you could have sworn he wasn’t looking—but he was. “the fuck,” he grouses, staring at your jerking backside with leafy eyes. a mean swat makes your hand loosen and he grabs your wrist instead, pinning it against your back. “oh girl, we don’t do that. we don’t touch toji’s favorite pussy,” and he presses himself all the way in, a hand wrapping around your throat before licking the right side of your neck. “by we i mean you, got some nerve touchin’ what’s mine,” and he drowns out your repetitive moans with his loud raspy voice—pounding such delicious angles into you with his fat girth. “especially when she’s this fuckin’ wet f'r me, fuck.”
you have a bit of brat remaining in you, as you’re reaching your incoming high with toji shortly following—you stammer out a sweet, “but ‘s my pussy. i can touch it if i wanna.”
“oh yeah?” his voice boom a degrading low. he’s so stuffed inside that you were sure you were gonna break. the crownhead of his cock was so extensive and vast that you were sure your cunt was gonna split open. after how many times you took your husband, he still always felt so fucking big. toji suddenly stops drilling into your sopping cunt. immensely, a frown goes against your lips. a sly expression marinates against his features before he pulls all the way out. your body twitches, ass still up in the air before his fingers brush against your neck. “well excuse me then. you’re totally right,” and he’s just teasing you now. as he spoke to you, he’s almost dumbing you down with each syllable that spews out of his lips. condescending, a perfect way to describe his delivery. “silly me. had no idea, this pussy’s yours? touch it then, i dare ya. give it a good rub while y’er at it too, gimme a show. i’ll wait.”
your bottom lip quivers— fuck, you adored his dirty talk more than anything at times but you were so close. your orgasm was right there, you could taste it lingering on your tastebuds. sweetened with pure awaiting nirvana. toji hums, an eyebrow raising once you grow limp, not having that sudden energy anymore. you’re now embarrassingly awaiting for his next move.
“aww, no back talk now? what happened ‘ta wifey wantin’ to touch her pussy? she’s waitin’ for you babygirl, don’t be rude. have some class.”
you just knew he was smirking behind you,
with a cute attempt for him to finish, you give your ass a sweet wriggle, hoping he’d go back inside. with the feeling of now being clamped around nothing anymore—it only made your pout grow wider. “t- tojiii,” and you’re whining now, so desperate. being edged like this, you started to see all kinds of colorful splotches. a brief sting throbs within your cold needy cunt before you gasp, feeling him smear his leaky tip against your folds. “finish fucking me, ‘toji.”
“nah baby, finish fuckin’ yourself,” he coos, tracing the soft curvature outline of your thighs. he gives it a firm squeeze, groaning at how your body was just perfect. he then spreads two fingers to ghost against your wet folds. a whimper drags out your lips before he gives it a rude spank. “she’s fuckin’ drenched. ‘s a privilege to play with her though, you know that,” and he sneers, popping his now soaked fingers into his mouth to get a taste. lowering his tone in a more soft approach, he hums. “but, if ya really want me to finish, all ya gotta do is say please, baby girl.”
with drooling lips seeping into the material of the creamy bed sheets, you moan at the rubbing he’s making with his tip against your slit. oh, you were dripping with wetness. you’re trying to swallow him back in but he prevents it, briefly pulling in only to pull back out. the same dark snickers could be heard from behind you— toji’s infamous laugh, it sends anyone horrifying chills but with you it only makes you throb.
“p-please,” you spit out, each second you spent being edged, the more you were starting to lose it. you feel him lightly yoke your hair back before a hand trails down your back. “pretty please. finish fuckin’ me a-and give me a baby.”
“and?”
you pout, he was literally impossible,
with your bottom lip spasming underneath the top one, you’re still happily arched for him before speaking in a grumpy pouty tone. “i-i’m sorry for touching your pussy, toji.”
“mhm,” he swipes a tongue against his scar. doing so makes it twinge against his lips before his fat tip runs right between your slick entrance again. “atta fuckin’ girl. ‘s okay baby, glad we understand each other, heh,” and finally after what seemed like centuries— he’s making his way back in. you mewl out a shrilling moan, feeling the familiar barreling of his length before not even a few inches in and toji cums. “shitttt.” and it comes out in ivory clods.
your ass ruts against him, feeling the warmth pool into you before you finish not even seconds after. ecstasy runs through your veins and you’re shaking on him— relishing in the ropes of seed he’s presenting to your greedy pussy.
he hisses for a second, feeling your cunt’s grip tighten around him as he’s still pouring globs into you. it’s so thick too, when toji finishes . . it’s a lot,
he grows quiet, spreading your ass to get a good view of the mess he’s making. a cunning grin goes on his lips as he’s grabbing ahold of his length, smearing it all on your entrance before finally pulling out.
“goddamn baby,” he grunts, witnessing how it’s just emitting down your slit in masses. it feels gooey, you’re just laying there with your ass perked all up, head pressed against the furniture before he swipes a thumb against the wads of hot cum. “ooh, looks like your pussy’s sayin’ thank you. know that’s right,” and he turns you around, pulling you into a deep kiss. with a tongue licking against his scar, you’re on the verge of catching your own slow languid breaths. whilst tongues tangle amongst each other in harmony and sync, toji runs a hand down your body. he feels you shudder from his touch before a hand sneakily slithers its way between your thighs. you moan in your husband’s mouth, feeling him shove two fingers inside to stop it from spilling. after a few long seconds, he pulls away—tangles of spit departing before he hums at you cockily. “good girl, now we wait for that cute bump.”
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sainns · 16 hours
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like or like like ㅤ ⊹ ㅤ sim jaeyun
femreader ㅤ୨୧ㅤ 𝓒ontent . . .ㅤbest friends to lovers (kind of, they don't explicitly start dating), fluff, alcohol consumption, reader gets drunk, not proofread ㅤ──ㅤ 1.5k ( 🗒 )
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“i’ve never seen her drunk before,” sunghoon points to where you’re leaning against the wall.
jake turns to look at you, watching as you talk to chaewon. you’re continously taking sips of your drink, a sleepy smile on your face as you listen to your friend’s (most likely) drunk ramblings. he can tell you’re tipsy, at the very least; your body is swaying, it seems like you’re having a hard time staying upright.
“yeah.. i’m gonna go lay her down before it gets worse. i don’t want her to wake up sick,”
sunghoon gives jake a knowing look, shrugging as he takes a sip of his own drink, “predictable,”
“what?”
“nothing,”
sunghoon grins, patting jake on the head before walking away to—jake assumes—bother his girlfriend. the older boy shakes his head, running a hand through his already messy hair, turning around once more to watch you.
this is the first time you’ve ever gotten drunk, he thinks. you’ve mentioned before that it’s because you’re scared of how you’ll act, not wanting to embarrass yourself in front of them. he’s glad that you’re more comfortable now, and at least you’re only here with them, your friends, and not at some party full of strangers and weirdos.
he watches as chaewon pats your back, albeit a little forcefully, before she leaves to find someone new to bother. he also watches you attempt to follow her but give up halfway through your first step. he smiles to himself, heading over to where you’re standing—or leaning.
“oookay, no more for you. you can’t even stand straight, dude,” jake takes the red solo cup away and out of your reach, giving you an amused smile. you pout but you don’t put up a fight—you can’t, not fully anyways. if you could, though, you would tell him that he’s being dramatic; six shots and half a cup of jungle juice is hardly anything.
“c’mon, you can go lay down in my room, you look tired,”
“okay,”
you make a move to walk by yourself but jake steps behind you, placing his hands on your waist so that he can guide you away from your friends. it feels like your senses are heightened to a dangerous level because why do you get goosebumps the moment he touches you? you squeeze your eyes shut, forcing your heart to calm down.
somehow you make it to his bedroom without stumbling a whole lot (this is 100% thanks to jake; you were sure that you wouldn’t have been able to do it yourself), and he taps your side, signaling for you to sit down on his bed, which you do.
he kneels down and pulls your shoes off, setting them on the floor. he pats your thigh, leaving yet another wake of goosebumps on your skin, “stay here, ‘kay? i’m gonna go get you some water,”
“i don’t want any,” you whine, “i’m tired, not thirsty,”
“yeah, well, you’ll be thirsty in a little bit,”
“no, i won’t,”
“yes, you will. you’re drunk,”
you huff, throwing yourself back on the bed, “am not. also you’re so annoying. i don’t want water, i always drink water,”
jake snorts at your antics, tucking his head away as he tries to keep from laughing too loudly. after a few seconds, he calms down and looks back at your figure, smiling fondly. you can’t see him, your eyes closed as you hum some random song that he hasn’t heard since he was ten years old.
you look so serene, he doesn’t want to disturb you. he figures he can just tell sunghoon or someone to come bring some water or he can wait for you to fall asleep.
“i’m sad,” you huff, sitting up slowly.
“why are you sad, hm?” he rests his head against your knee.
you frown at him. his words felt slightly condescending. not that you really cared, in fact it kind of made you feel dizzy. wow, he’s just terrible. looking at you all worried, taking care of you while you’re (not) drunk.
“because of you,”
he sits up at that. he looks like a dog who heard the word ‘snack’ or something. of course, he wasn’t happy. he looked more worried than before, in fact.
“me? what’d i do?”
“you’re just annoying,” you whine, “you know, i like you and it’s kinda funny ‘cause i’m, like, so obvious about it,”
“you like me? like like me?”
“well, actually, i love you,” you pause, “you’re not very smart, now that i think about it. how’d you even graduate? did you cheat? i think everyone knows but you. this is so awful, i can’t believe i had to go and like someone so oblivious. you’re lucky everything else cancels that out,”
“wait, wait, wait. you love me? that’s..” jake asks, his face flushed, completely disregarding everything you said after your confession, “yn, you’re.. you know, you’re drunk,”
“oh, okay,” you push his head away, “look, i’ll tell you tomorrow, ‘cos i really mean it and you’re so annoying and it’s, like, oh my god,” you say something else after that but he can’t tell what. not with you speaking as fast as humanly possible paired with drunken slurring.
he nods slowly, processing your words, “yeah.. okay. you can’t forget, alright?”
you grin, poking his cheek, “duh, i have an amazing memory,”
your amazing memory may be your downfall. surely, you had drank enough to wake up the next morning with zero memory. isn’t that what usually happens when someone gets so drunk they tell their best friend that they like them? not even like, you said you loved him.
and now you’re laying in his bed, face pressed into his pillow, absolutely mortified at your past self’s actions.
you’re never going to speak to him again. you’re going to get up, put your shoes on, and sneak out. yeah, it’ll seem like you’re doing the walk of shame, god forbid anyone catches you, but that’d be less embarrassing than having to talk to jake.
you don’t get the chance to attempt to escape, though, because jake walks in right as you’re weighing your options.
“hey, are you awake? it’s two in the afternoon,” you hear him place a glass on the nightstand as he sits next to you.
you could pretend that you forgot.
you feel his hand rubbing your back, “i heard you groaning, get up,”
“i don’t want to,” you mumble into the pillow, pressing your face into it harder.
“i can’t hear you, you know,”
you groan loudly, picking your head up, “i don’t want to get up,”
“why? are you embarrassed?”
“i didn’t do anything embarrassing,” yes you did.
he nods, “nah, you didn’t. i was just checking, you get embarrassed easily,”
you’re quiet for a moment after that. his hand is still rubbing your back and you can feel your heat beating against your chest. you want to pretend that you forgot about last night but for some reason you can’t. you want to bring it up despite feeling naseous at the thought of being rejected.
“i like you,”
he smiles, “yesterday you said you love me,”
you gape at him and he laughs loudly. you want to kill both him and yourself.
“i’m sorry—i’m kidding.. i like you too,” he hums, tilting his head, “no, actually, i love you,”
you frown, “you’re embarrassing me,”
he laughs again which makes you want to both laugh and hide away from him, “god, you’re so cute. i kinda wanna kiss you, is that okay?”
you almost say yes before you remember that you just woke up not even twenty minutes ago and you are not going to kiss him with bad breath. especially not when you were drinking the night before.
“i just woke up,”
he leans forward, close enough that you can just barely lift your head and you’ll be able to kiss him, “so?”
“no,” it pains you to do so but you turn your head away from him. you know he won’t kiss you if you don’t want him to but you’d probably fold and kiss him if he kept staring at you like that, “you can.. uh, later. after i brush my teeth,”
he turns you over onto your back, smiling above you brightly. you gasp at the sudden movement, your heart racing yet again (you should go to the hospital), “promise? i really wanna kiss you right now,”
you laugh, reaching your hand up to move his hair out of his face, “yeah, i promise. i really wanna kiss you too.”
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little baby lime | s.r. x pregnant!fem reader
“does reid have a girlfriend?” emily asked derek and jj. they both shared a quizzical look with pouted lips, taken aback by the random question.
“not since that one time thing with that lila actress,” derek mumbled. now it was emily’s turn to be thrown off by this new information, “an actress?”
“an old case,” jj informed her. “spencer doesn’t seem like the dating type, mostly. never mentioned anything that might point to it, always doing his usual routine on his days off.” the blonde shrugged off her sentence.
“why do you ask?” derek turned back to emily who jerked her chin while looking behind the two, “cause he’s hugging a girl who might also be pregnant.” an impressed smirk to her mauve lips.
derek and jj wiped their heads fast around you could hear a crack from their necks. true to emily’s words, doctor spencer reid, well know to be a germaphobe, was wrapped in a tight embrace with a shorter woman. his back was to the trio but they could see that his arms were over her shoulders and hers were snug around his torso, also noting that spencer was giving both bodies a gentle sway.
“well that’s a sight,” derek teased. then jj followed with, “why might you think she’s pregnant? we can’t see with tall boy swallowing her.”
emily tapped the side of her nose, “saw her enter just before i asked the hundred dollar question and her tank was a bit snug on her stomach and she even gave it a rub.” eyes moving to the mystery duo then back, “then when spencer went to her he, one kissed her forehead then two also touched her stomach.”
three sets of eyes honed in back to spencer and his mystery guest. you leaned apart, head leaving spencer’s chest but arms wrapped to his back. you smiled brightly at spencer’s rosie face, “you’ve gotten prettier in only a week. not fair.” pouting exaggerated as you rubbed your palms along spencer’s spine.
he smiled nervously at the compliment. “that’s statistically not true. only with time and sometimes diet does your skin start to shift and change. like your body is doing now while going through pregnancy.” a quick peck upon your oily forehead, you sweat too much and sucks that summer is rolling in.
“this little lime is slowly stretching some of my clothes out. but i’m gonna be a sexy mama, like rachel green from friends. so i expect you to defend me against anyone.” teasing spencer since you already know he’ll defend you even over an argument about clothing.
before spencer could reply there was a loud, exaggerated cough from behind. stepping out of spencer’s hold you waffled your hands together and leaned your head against his bicep. a trio of agents you haven’t met before smiled questioning spencer’s way.
“pretty boy, you didn’t tell us you had a gorgeous girl waiting for you.” a tall dark skin man teased like an older brother. he looked at you and smiled his white teeth, “derek morgan, part of the bau.”
“oh, the playboy of the unit. i’ve heard a thing or two about you.” cocking a brow while derek showed surprise but covered it with a laugh, “glad to know i always leave an impression on pretty boy.”
“and thank you for the new nickname, i will be stealing it.” causing the two women to chuckle. a petite blonde woman stuck a hand out and you automatically took it, “i’m jennifer jareau, but you can call me jj. i’m the liaison for the team, deal with media and dictate our cases.”
“and a beaut. glad i snatch up spence before you had the chance.” spencer ducked his chin to his chest while jj just raised her brows, “think it’s for the best you took him off the market first.”
“lucky for me.” pointing a manicured finger to the left of jj, “now you, sexy lady must be emily prentiss since i already know wonderful penelope garcia. if i hadn’t know spencer earlier you would’ve been on my mind twenty-four seven.” a playful wink thrown her way, she didn’t protest to your suggestive words.
“maybe we can get together and see what i’m missing out on. but also, how long have you known reid? we didn’t know you existed.” a huffed laugh.
“use to live in vegas as a kid. thirteen my freshman year to have the local boy genius, twelve year old senior tutor me in algebra. with his help i didn’t need summer school. and i didn’t see him for a while until a few years ago when he’d make visits back into town.” cartoon hearts filtered through your eyes as you recounted your love story. “been dating two and a half years and then this dolt,” a light smack to spencer’s chest, “forgot to practice safe sex and here we are.”
all three of their faces showed complete shock at your last sentence and you can understand why. “don’t worry, spencer takes very good care of me. day and night if you know what i mean.” wiggling your brows suggestively.
spencer sighed, “i think they do, sweetheart. and i wish i could forget this whole conversation.” displeased at where this headed, but still stared towards you like you were the stars in the sky. “now if you’ll excuse us, garcia would like to see her favorite person.”
“second favorite,” derek cheekily pipped in. you waved him off as spencer walked the both of you away and further in the offices. to garcia’s dungeon or lair, whatever she’s feeling that day.
with a polite nock to her closed door and a muffled, “enter traveler,” you rushed inside for her bear hug. “penny!”
“oh my gosh! how are you sexy mama?” penelope rocked you side to side, cheek pressed into her neck. you giggled at the nickname, “is bean pole taking care of you?”
“bean pole?” spencer’s voice was mumbled but an unladylike snort escaping your nose. “i do have a thing for tall, lanky boys.”
“i don’t like this conversation either.”
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jyoongim · 2 days
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Can I request an Alastor x reader where she is a newer sinner. Really nerdy, obsessed with history, fun facts, animal facts, and shy at first. Just says things randomly, like “did you know that if a cow has twins more often than not she abandons ones just rearranging things when bored, someone will come down to lobby in the middle of the night and there she is moving the couches at like 3am. Doesn’t think when she speaks when she sees Alastor in his overlord form just says something like “smash” before walking off. Kind of a this gives me conflicted feelings and made me learn something about myself I don’t think I should know. It can be smut or fluff I don’t mind! My friends just say I have adhd, never been tested, don’t wanna be lol, I just ramble when I get excited and talk too much or too loud when excited too. It’d be nice to see a reader like me :) thank you love! I’m trying not to ramble so I’m sorry if this all over the place!
Hehehe could be possible adhd but I’m also certain everyone has a touch of tism as well so you’re not alone hehehe.
(I too have undiagnosed adhd)
Typing this from my phone cause I’m scared to do it on my work computer😭 should have brought my iPad to work
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You had always been…different.
When you were alive you spent most of your time doing your hobbies or reading. You weren’t much of a social butterfly but did make the effort every once in a while. But people always treated you like you were an annoyance.
You were strange. Even by demon standards.
But you made a lovely addition to the Princess of Hell’s hotel.
You enjoyed being about to sprout random facts and have people actually be interested.
Animals, history, science you name it you randomly knew it.
You rambled during bonding excersies until you caught yourself yapping and instantly apologized.
You talked to yourself (having been caught in the act more than once)
Husk called you a loose screw but Angel found it charming. Charlie thought you were just the cutest.
And Alastor….
Well you definitely piqued his interest.
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You and Angel were having a “self care” day. Well Angel was. You were just happy to play in his fluff. Angel was telling you about the latest shoot he had to do and then the subject jumped to saying lives. “Oooh cmon toots don’t tell me no one’s were had the hots for that brain of yours” you pin curled his hair, “hmmmm not that I know of. Besides most people think I’m strange, wouldn’t want to scare the masses”
Angel rolled his eyes “well what about here at the hotel? Anyone catch yer fancy?”
You think about it but your mind comes to a blank. Nope you couldn’t in point who you would be the SLIGHTEST but interested in.
The sound of shoes met your ears and you turned to see Alastor entering the lobby. Your ear perked up and your eyes immediately locked in.
You would say you and Alastor were friends. The two of you had great conversations, he listened to your rambles and always told you facts of the time period when he was alive.
He wasn’t in his usual pristine attire. Instead of the polish look, he was dressed more casual. A white button up, rolled at his elbows, wearing dress pants and suspenders, he even didn’t have his gloves on.
He paid no mind to the two of you in the lobby, seemingly in his own world.
“Smash” you said tilting your head, causing Angel to burst out laughing and you blush when you realized you said that out loud.
Alastor turned around, eyebrows quirked “something amusing was said?”
You quickly shook your head while Angel chuckled “Our fact machine here thinks you’re hot*
Alastor blinked, his eyes settling on you.
You wanted to hide in the couch from embarrassment, but Alastor just took a sip of his coffee and began to walk from where he came. He got to the hallway door because pausing briefly, turning to look at you over his shoulder
“I suppose I would ‘smash’ you too dear”
Your cheeks burned and Angel choked as Alastor disappeared.
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romantichomicide95 · 17 hours
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megumi fushiguro𓈒 𓈒 𓈒
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part III of random boyfriend headcanons i can’t get out of my head- cuddling edition
megumi fushiguro is the type of boyfriend who loves when you cuddle up to his chest. he’s able to smell the sweet scent of your shampoo as you nestle in closer. he buries his face in your hair, breathing you in as he wraps you in his arms. he pulls you impossibly close, making sure there’s not an inch of space left between you as his warm hand draws circles on your back lulling you to sleep.
megumi fushiguro is the type of boyfriend who likes to nestle his face into the crook of your neck. you’re laying on your back on your bed and he crawls up your body, wrapping his arms around your frame and burying his face in the spot between your neck and collarbone. he’s able to smell the fragrance that naturally radiates off your skin. his warmth breath and those spiky raven locks tickle your skin as you feel his breathing even out. you lace your hands in his hair and he can’t fight the warmth that spreads through his chest or the sleepiness that takes over him from feeling so at peace cuddled up with you.
megumi fushiguro is the type of boyfriend who enjoys being big spoon. having you wrapped up in his arms, your back nestled tight against his chest. it brings out that protective side of him. he can’t bear the thought of losing anyone else so close to him, especially not you. so when you’re like this, asleep in his strong arms, he feels like it’s just you and him, like the fact he’s got you pulled so close means nothing bad could ever happen to you. you’re safe, with him and he couldn’t possibly ever let you go.
megumi fushiguro is the type of boyfriend who pretends he doesn’t like cuddling. he groans and grunts everytime you sit in his lap, or push yourself against him during movie nights. but despite his protests his body language tells a different tale. because of course whenever you sit on his lap his arms are instinctively wrapped around you. and of course every time you push yourself against him you can feel all the tension leave his body. he can sigh and groan all he wants but there’s no denying the way his heart beat picks up, the way he pulls you closer in the guise of “adjusting his position”, or the way inevitable he finds your fingers laced together and absolutely no space left between you. deep down he wouldn’t have it any other way.
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muxshwriting · 3 days
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who we are
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Max Verstappen x reader
summary: both of them dreaming, both hoping. But the second one tries to make it reality, it all crumbles down || warning: miscommunications, angst, fluff || word count: 1494 || masterlist
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Everyone knew Max and Y/N loved each other. The only people who didn't know that were Max and Y/N. You'd been friends since childhood, growing up a few doors down from Max. You'd followed him to every karting race you could, cheering him on from the sidelines no matter where he finished. When Jos was unhappy, he would spend a weekend at your house, spending all his spare time either karting or with you.
He was your first kiss, when you were both barely teenagers but wanted to know what it felt like. Max had offered, ever so kindly, to show you and you had agreed.
As you grew, many people expected you to grow apart, as you studied at university and Max travelled the world but you never did. You would stay in touch with Max all year round, visiting races when you could. And during the off season, Max would come back to the Netherlands, joining your family for the holidays and taking you abroad. You had gelled with his friends immediately, fitting into the group as if you had always been there. Despite fitting in so well, you and Max could always be found apart from the group of an evening.
You would be tangled up with each other, your legs slung over him and his am resting lazily around your shoulders. If anyone asked, it didn't mean anything. You were friends, best friends. You just found comfort in each others company and liked the warmth the other provided. There was no other reason for your behaviour at all...
“Y/N?” Daniel is tapping you on the back, getting your attention. You were at the home grand prix, waiting for Max to finish up in his driver's room after the race.
“What’s up?”
“Max is asking for you.” He pauses. “It's Jos and it's… it’s pretty bad.”
Before he had even finished speaking, you were rushing out of hospitality and heading towards Max's motorhome. His father was never happy unless Max was winning everything all of the time. Max had placed second, a very good result, especially considering the wet conditions. But second is the first loser to Jos and therefore, Max was a disgrace to the Verstappen name.
You slowly open the door to see a teary-eyes Max looking up at you. You open your arms just in time for Max to fling himself into them and cling on tightly. "Don't listen to Jos, Max. He doesn't know what he's talking about."
"He's my dad."
You wrap your arm around his shoulders and pull him closer. "You're an adult Max. You don't have to listen to him anymore."
"But-"
"He doesn't understand." You press. "He was never as good as you, alright? He'll never know the feeling of crossing that line first, of winning the championship. You do, you know the feeling ten times over."
"Okay."
"Okay." You smile at him, relishing the feeling of him in your arms. "A bunch of the drivers are going out tonight, you feeling up to it?"
Max nods, slowly pulling away. "I'll pick you up from your room?"
"I'd like that."
Later that night, you smoothed down you dress, fiddling with your hair as you waited. The soft knock on the door sent your heart racing, knowing that it was Max. As you opened the door, Max was bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun, a smile playing at the corner of your lips. He tenderly offered you his arm, his shirt falling open just a little more.
The club was packed, full of drivers, their friends and plenty of girls. A small hint of jealousy stirred in your stomach but you pushed it down. Max wasn't yours. You didn't have the right to be jealous when you couldn't even admit it. Danny found you an hour later, moping in a booth you watched Max dance with another girl.
"What are you moping about?"
You motioned your head to Max and the girl. Danny chuckled at your apparent jealousy and slid in next to you.
"I wouldn't worry about some random girl, he's only got real eyes for you."
"Yeah right."
Danny huffed. "You guys fit so well together, you're perfect!"
"You know we don’t work Danny. It would never work out."
"Of course you could be together!" Danny slurred. "Max loved you since you were kids. He’s just scared of his feelings. He doesn’t want to ruin anything."
"What?"
Danny looked confused. "What did I say?"
"You said Max loves me."
Danny grinned, sleepily. "Yeah. He does, he really does but don’t tell him I told you. You’re not supposed to know."
"…Yeah."
You leave Danny to figure out where his limbs are and search the crowd for Max. In your conversation, he'd abandoned the girl, now laughing with a couple other drivers and nursing drinks. You lock eyes across the dance floor, weaving through other people to reach one another.
Underneath the fluorescent glow of the club, two hearts beat in rhythm. You and Max stood facing each other, your eyes locked in a silent conversation that spoke volumes. It was a moment suspended in time, the world around them fading into the background as you leaned closer, drawn together by an irresistible magnetic pull. Your breaths mingled, warm and hesitant.
And then, with a trembling hand and a surge of courage, you close the distance between them, your lips brushing softly against Max's in a delicate dance of anticipation. Max surged forward himself, pressing his lips back into yours, melding perfectly together. Time seemed to stand still as their hearts collided, the world falling away as they lost themselves in the sweet ecstasy of that kiss.
It was a kiss filled with longing and desire, a silent proclamation of the feelings that had blossomed between them, unspoken but understood. In that fleeting moment, everything changed, their bond deepening with each beat of their hearts. As they finally pulled away, their lips still tingled with the ghost of their embrace.
But Max said nothing. He stared.
Someone bumped into you, pushing you slightly further away. Max didn't move. He just stared at the spot you had been in as you were tussled away by the crowd. You waited by the bar, trying to spot Max amongst the chaos, trying to find him again, to say something, anything. But he had disappeared.
Max hadn't spoken to you since the kiss. It had been a whole week and you had heard nothing. He was answering other people but ignoring all your messages. You had sent him one that night asking if you had overstepped. He had read you message, he had read all of them but he had replied to none.
You had come to the next race anyway, wanting to support him regardless. Danny stuck by your side, welcoming you to his side of the garage so you could avoid Max. You hadn't told Danny exactly what happened, just that you and Max weren't talking.
Your peace was disrupted when Max wandered over to ask Danny for something. He spotted you and paled, his eyebrows creasing together and his eyes softening. Without a word, he turned on his heel and fled, passing a very confused Daniel in the doorway.
Danny bounded over, glancing at a retreating Max. "What's going on with you and Max? He looks like a sad cat."
You sigh. "I kissed him."
"You kissed-" The outburst was immediate. "When?"
"At the party last weekend."
"Why is he so miserable then?"
"I don't know! He hasn't talked to me since. He's not answering any of my texts."
"He’s an idiot." Danny suggested. "Maybe he’s hit his head and forgotten who you are? I’ll go talk to him, alright?"
Danny's pep talk must have worked wonders because it took less than ten minutes for Max to come and find you again, silently sitting down next to you. "I want to talk to you."
"About what?" You’re secretly hoping he wants to tell you that he fucked up, that the kiss meant a lot and that’s why he stayed away, but your brain tells you to think realistically.
Max frowned. "I don’t really know…"
You stay silent, simply looking at Max and waiting.
"I was an idiot." He confesses. "You deserve a whole lot better than what I can offer you… I’m sorry I can’t give you what you deserve."
"Max…"
"No! I fucked up and walked away and then I was too afraid to text you back because I thought I’d ruined it. Then I actually ruined it by ignoring you. When you kissed me, I panicked mainly because I didn’t think it was actually happening and then I realised it was actually happening but you had pulled away." Max said hurriedly. "I just really want to kiss you."
The smile that covers your face is contagious. "Then kiss me."
You and I burned out our steam, chasing someone else's dream.
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fallen down my f1 rabbithole... i'm definitely mentally stable xx
taglist: @aoi-targaryen
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soobinskii · 2 days
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black & blue - p.jisung
warnings : bully!jisung | cunnilingus, fem!reader, switch!jisung & switch!reader, hate fucking??, choking, degradation, spanking, slapping, name calling (slut, whore, bitch), jisung is REALLY mean, pussy worship, not dubcon.
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"my god, you look.. almost as pretty as a pile of dogshit." jisung laughs at you, snickering as he hauls insults at you (like he does daily). to be quite honest, you've gotten used to it now; he's been doing it since the two of you were childhood friends. if you could even call the relationship between the two of you that.
he's been mean to you for as long as you can remember. he's even gotten physical a few times before, nothing to cause extreme physical harm to you, but nevertheless he's still done it. you didn't know why you enjoyed it; you wanted him to insult you and order you around just so you know he's going to notice you.
"hey bitch," jisung cursed at you. "carry this for me, and get your head out of the clouds for fucks sake. you've had that ditzy look on your face for like twenty minutes now.." he tosses his backpack at you as you follow him to his house. he throws his arms in the air, stretching his shoulders and back. you can't help but admire the muscles he's built over the years, they're on display right now as he's wearing a black t-shirt. with the summer approaching and the weather getting hotter, he's been wearing shorter-sleeved shirts and you can't help but look at his muscular arms, wanting to feel them wrapped around you as he fucks you from behind.
you can't focus on that right now, as you're at his house and he's unlocking the door. he pulls you in after him, gripping you by your shirt and yanking you through the doorway roughly. he points to the couch in his living room and demands you, "sit there, i'll be back. don't touch shit, you got it?" you nod quickly and scramble to take your shoes off, place them down at the door, and then sit on his couch.
as you sit and place your bags down, a small notebook slips out of his bag. you get a bit too curious while picking it up and open to a random page in it. as you read the pink text you pick up on these words "i wish i wouldn't be such an asshole, i love her." , "i can't control myself, i'm so horny for and in love with (y/n) that i feel like i have to be rude to hide it." , "i want to spank her ass until it's red."
these words suprise you, you never expected to hear it from jisung. the guy you've been pining after for so long. you don't have time to think before you hear jisung coming back to the living room and- "oh shit.." you whisper, jisung standing right in front of you with shock and anger in his eyes. "jisung! i swear i didn't see anything- i promise! i can make it up to you, what do you want?" you start to ramble, dropping the book on the coffee table. "shut up," jisung demands, his voice faltering for the first time ever. "i..." he grunts softly and sighs, walking towards you slowly; as if he was a predator hunting his prey.
he grabs your throat softly and stares you in the eyes, him being gentle and at a loss for words was not something you ever expected to see. "tell me what you read." he purses his lips and squeezes a bit harder, not enough to hurt you but definitely enough to make you dizzy. "i.. uh.." jisung pulls you closer towards himself as he awaits your answer. "tell me, whore. c'mon, use your head for once."
"i read that.. you want to fuck me.." you look away from his strong gaze as he smirks at the fact that your thighs are rubbing together, trying to create some sort of friction. "ah.. you're not illiterate, that's suprising." he hisses and sinks down to his knees in front of you, pressing his face into your clothed pussy and taking a deep inhale. he proceeds to unbutton your shorts and breathe a bit harder as he does, working himself up aswell.
"do you want this?" he asks, looking up at you with the most genuine look you've ever seen from him. you nod, agreeing to give yourself to him and allow him to fuck you as he pleases. "i need words, slut." he glares up at you. sucking in a breath you reply to him, "yes, jisung. just do it already.." you have a newfound confidence, realizing that you've had him wrapped around your finger this entire time.
he bites your thigh, hard enough to make you moan and leave a small mark. he pulls your shorts and underwear off, kissing right above your pussy; you know he's teasing you, riling you up just so you'll be more sensitive once he actually fucks you. he continues to lick and bite at your thighs, working his way towards your core. you run your fingers through his hair and slightly pull at it, getting needier with every touch of his lips against your skin.
he licks a stripe up your cunt, sucking on your clit and making a mess in between your legs. he's sloppy with it, drooling as he flicks your clit with his tongue. he presses his face deeper as he sticks his tongue in your hole, his nose pressing against your sweet spot.
it's as if jisung lives for pussy, he hasnt even come up to breathe or take a break. he's lapping at your heat like he's crazed, drunk on it and needing more to satisfy his cravings. you could almost forget all of the times he insulted you with the way he's eating you out like a mad man. he moans, enjoying the way you taste; so sweet to him, even if he was an asshole.
he pulls away enough to speak, "so sweet.. why do you taste so good.." his voice sounds whiny and breathless as he goes back to his place between your thighs, lightly whimpering as you pull his hair to get him off. you haven't cum just yet, but you have a question for the man that was supposed to hate you.
"jisung..." you start, out of breath from his insatiable lips, "if you liked- loved me this much, why were you such an asshole?" you furrow your eyebrows, lightly glaring at him. he averts his gaze and looks at the floor, you tug his hair and make him sit on the couch as you stand up. "tell me now, or i'll slap you just like you did once."
"i didn't want to love you, i hated it. so i resorted to being that way," he starts, voice coming out quietly in embarrassment and anger. "i had so many emotions that i didn't know what to do with as we got older, so i turned them into anger and took it out on you. i was too embarrassed and shameful to apologize." you yank his hair to make him look at you then, you slap him across the face, hard. his head jerks to the side and he bites his lip. you look at him in confusion and realize that his dick is twitching in his boxers.
you look at him with disgust, slapping him again to see if this was hopefully just a big joke. he moans out and throws his head back. "park jisung, do you have no shame?" his bangs cover his eyes as he lowers his head once again and shakes his head.
"make yourself useful and let me ride you then." you tell him, rolling your eyes as he scrambles to pull out his cock. the tip is pink and leaking with precum as his dick twitches, begging to be touched. you look at it in suprise, it's long and veiny. pretty, to say the least. with the way it has a blushed tip, his dick almost looked like a lollipop.
"enough staring, please.." he quietly whines out, and you slap his thigh. "don't order me around, jisung. i've had enough of you doing that as of recently." you hiss at him, nearly gritting your teeth. straddling jisung, you kiss him roughly and bite at his lower lip. he sticks his tongue in your mouth and the two of you make out. it's a sloppy makeout; teeth, tongue, and spit.
you line up jisung's cock with your entrance and sink down on it. the two of you cry out and he buries his head in your neck. you push his head back against the top of the couch, wanting to see the the faces he makes. at the moment, as you're slowly riding him, he's biting his lip and a bit of drool is seeping out of the corner of his mouth. his eyes are going in and out of focus. you could've never imagined jisung was this much of a slut for you.
"damnit, dude, why is your pussy so good?" he sighs out. you wrap your hand around his throat, and he looks at you with a fucked-out look on his face. "don't call me 'dude' while you're inside of me.."
he presses his hips up into yours and places his hands on your sides, "i'm sick of this slow shit.." jisung groans and wraps his arms around you, pulling your body towards him and starts pounding into you. his moans align with yours as he thrusts deep into you. his balls are slapping against you, his nails lightly grazing the skin of your ass.
"fuck- i'm gonna cum..." he whimpers, lip trembling. "me too ji, keep fucking me." you mewl and arch your back, your tits pressing into his chest. he brings his hand up in between your bodies and starts toying with your nipples. "cum with me, (y/n). show me how good you look when you cum on my cock.. you always look so fucking good." he rambles as your orgasms crash into you like freight trains.
jisung pulls out and cums between your stomachs as you clench around nothing, your peaks rippling through you and taking over your body. all you hear in the room is heavy breathing and soft moans.
after a few moments, jisung picks his head up and starts to speak softly. "i'm sorry. i'm sorry about all the years that i treated you like shit, you genuinely didn't deserve it, and i don't deserve to be forgiven. i just hope you'll allow me to treat you better in the future, starting now," he seems genuine, and you feel like you can trust it. "i don't care if we're just friends, or dating. but, i will never- and i mean never, treat you that way again. i swear to you, and to myself."
your jaw hangs open, at a loss for words. you don't even know what to say. after a while of being treated like nothing, you get used to it. and you never thought you'd hear park jisung- of all people- saying this to you.
a/n : this WAS supposed to be a drabble, but i got carried away loll hehe hope you enjoy !! please consider reblogging <3
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trashogram · 2 days
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Post-He Chose You ficlet Pt. 1
Warnings: Random inspiration based on a post I made yesterday about Lucifer’s jealousy. Pt. 2 will be attached smut for Lucifer/Reader.
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*** “This evening has been a violent delight, my dear!” Alastor took your hand in his, sidling by so that he could lean in and plant a kiss on your hand while still keeping Charlotte secure and hanging off his neck on the other side. “We simply must do this again! And soon!”
Your expression didn’t change, despite the minute surprise you felt at the gesture. You supposed it was part of his southern gentleman facade, and there was no reason to make a scene out of something so innocuous. Even if he did linger a moment longer than necessary.
Charlotte gaped at the display, tiny mouth in the shape of an ‘o’. At a glance, you could see her thinking hard about it, her little claws slowing down in their relentless petting of Alastor’s hair, and you made a mental note. Given the circumstances, this was likely the first time Charlie had ever seen a man who wasn’t her Dad touching her Mom.
“YES! VIOLENTLY DELIGHTFUL!” The sudden boom of your husband’s normally dulcet voice caused both you and your daughter to jump.
Lucifer came stomping over the foyer, eyes ablaze while he snatched a squeaking Charlotte up from Alastor’s arms and outright shoved Alastor back. His pearly fangs were bared in an enraged snarl, in contrast to Alastor’s manic grin that only widened at the tough treatment.
“But I’m afraid it’s over and that means you go now. So go, go, go!” Lucifer’s words were a jumbled mess as he continued to muscle the overlord toward the magically-opened door.
“Oh my! But I didn’t even get to wish dear Charlotte goodnight!” Alastor said in a voice colored by laughter. He was turned about, halfway out the door with the Devil at his back like an angry bull, with Charlotte having graduated from being held in her father’s arms to raised and wrapped in his windingly long tail.
“Not a problem! She doesn’t need your goodnight — probably won’t even remember you by morning! And neither will we!” Lucifer managed to get the taller demon out the door (or at least Alastor had finally stopped leaning over him like Lucifer was a rest post). “Now, Get Out!”
The command was punctuated by the slamming of the door and the reverberation that had manifested from the King’s ire. He huffed and puffed, streams of smoke siloing out of his slotted nostrils as Alastor’s muffled laughter could be heard just outside.
You had remained rooted to the floor throughout the display, blinking and bewildered. Your gaze was drawn to Charlotte, still held aloft behind her father’s back with her little legs dangling, and you sighed. You walked over to the pair with a straightened spine.
“Lucifer.” You snapped.
Your husband spun around, inadvertently pulling Charlotte out of reach again. She whined in his grip, reaching for you while Lucifer himself looked back and forth between you two as the haze of madness cleared from his eyes.
Charlotte’s grabbed for you as Lucifer’s tail wilted, and she practically leapt into your waiting arms. Lucifer watched at she hid against your chest with a crestfallen expression on his face.
“Wait, I —” He reached out for you both.
You stared him down only a moment longer before swiftly turning on your heels.
You held Charlotte close when she began to cry in your arms, soothing her with a gentle rub against her back as she practically dug herself into your body.
“Why’re you crying, baby?” You murmured, nuzzling the top of her head. The little princess only cried harder. “Did Daddy scare you?”
The nod from Charlie was a bit difficult to distinguish from her emphatic trembling, but you’d been getting better at understanding your own daughter.
“Oh Sunshine,” You sighed. “He didn’t mean it. I promise you he didn’t.”
The walk to Charlie’s room was a journey, but you’d been down these halls so many times that you’d come to the door earlier than expected. Your daughter had clung to you the entire way like a baby lemur, crying in the safety of your arms.
“Why did Daddy make Allie leave?” Charlie mumbled against your collarbone when the worst of her sobs had subsided.
“Ohhh,” You shook your head while pulling out the plush comforter and taking a seat on the edge of Charlie’s bed. “He’s probably just tired. Sometimes Daddy acts a little silly when he’s tired.”
You gently set the little girl down, a lump forming in your throat as Charlotte looked up at you, confusion still apparent.
“And you know when Daddy is silly, he likes to keep us close.” You tickled under her chin. “Otherwise he’ll lose his head, and we’ll have to put it back on for him again.”
“And Alastor’s never seen that; it might scare him!”
Charlie’s giggle was like magic, as was the scrunch of her little dotted nose that you leaned in to kiss.
“I don’t think anything could scare Al.” Your daughter whispered conspiratorially, still lingering on you in spite of the brief loss of tension.
You continued to sweep errant golden strands of hair from Charlie’s face, lightly plucking away what had gotten stuck in tear tracks . “Maybe, but you never know…”
It was sometime later, when Charlotte had been sufficiently tucked into her powdery-pink bed after being read and sung to, that you strode back out into the hallway.
There you heard the distant sound of music coming from your own bedroom. Even at a distance, you could tell it was too clear and rich to be coming from yours and Lucifer’s antique radio.
With another deep sigh, you headed that way, slowing down just enough to take some of the pins out of your hair. Hopefully your husband hasn’t gone so far as to throw the radio away purely out of association.
Lucifer had played for you before, on a variety of instruments. And while it might’ve given you second-hand embarrassment if any other guy tried to sit you down and have you listen to him fool around with a guitar or piano, with Lucifer it was a treat rather than an chore.
Even now, as he drew a bow across the strings of his fiddle to create a slow, clearly melancholy tune, your body deflated slightly.
Your husband was lost in the music, but you wondered how long it had taken him to fully surrender to it. He looked terrible disheveled from his tousled blond hair to the way his forearms, now free of the confines of his overcoat and gloves, flexed on and off. His posture was poor but his torso and shoulders were tightly coiled and fit to snap.
The carpet under your padded feet dampened the sound of your approach, to the point where you merely ghosted over Lucifer’s shoulders with a delicate hand. Thankfully, your worry that you’d startle the already clearly frazzled King proved unnecessary. He merely stopped playing, arms falling to his sides.
“She hates me now, doesn’t she?” Lucifer stated with a hung head, refusing to turn and look at you even as he leaned into your surer hand soothing his shoulder.
“Charlie will never hate you.” You replied. “I doubt there’s any room in her heart to hate anyone or anything, least of all her Dad who she knows loves her more than anything.”
Lucifer looked over his shoulder at you, anxiety still clearly eating away at him, though he tried to smile.
“She was very understanding when I explained how you were just being silly, actually.” You offered.
“Well that is true.” Lucifer’s laugh was one note and too watery for your liking. “I am silly. A silly old fool, really…”
He gripped your hand, thumb stroking over your knuckles.
“Do you hate me?” His voice was small. Earnest. Afraid.
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kaiserouo · 20 hours
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he's literally the only thing i draw today
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achelouise · 20 hours
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my love, my muse —kaveh
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fandom: genshin
pairing: kaveh x reader!
a/n: i just realized i hadn’t written for kaveh, which is a crime against humanity. also kaveh x muse!reader brainrot sjzjjwjzjqjjajajajh (also switching formats, iiiiiii have no idea what im doing, can you tell)
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— student!kaveh, who, even though loathed and respected his project partner to bits, would rather die than ever try to draw him for an assignment. “don’t even think about it,” he hisses, just as alhaitham quirks an unimpressed eyebrow. he understands that he has many friends and acquaintances that are willing to pose for him, but a small voice in the back of his head needles at him- telling him that no, we cannot create art with them as our muse. and to him, nothing is more important than making sure every single artwork he produces is with the utmost sincerity.
— student!kaveh, whose resolve crumbles bit after bit as the deadline creeps up, with no model to look for in sight, and is starting to think perhaps he should turn to his volunteering friends after all. he cannot compromise his diligence for his passion as a scholar, and so he heads to pupsa café, hoping to buy some coffee to prepare for his all-nighter that night.
—student!kaveh, who doesn’t even realize he’s pouting until he hears a cheery, unfamiliar voice bring it up- and he tilts his head up to find that he spilled all the coffee in his mouth onto his shirt (much to your alarm).
“you,” he gurgles, “you’re the muse i’ve been looking for!”
“excuse me?”
— perhaps he was a bit sleep-deprived, which explained his lack of inhibition, but student!kaveh latches onto you like a moth to a flame, stars swirling in his eyes. are you a student of the akademiya? which darshan are you from? which nation were you from to bless you with such beautiful eyes? could you be his muse? he asks them all, because he has to know.
— student!kaveh, who only later apologizes for his overbearing first-impression, while swearing up and down he wasn’t like that usually, and explaining his current predicament. perhaps you pitied him, or found him quite charming- whichever it was, you accepted his proposal to be his muse in exchange for some funds, much to his delight.
“thank you, thank you, oh, thank you! my assignment won’t be so lifeless after all!”
— student!kaveh, who arranges a time and place for you at his dorm with a sense of bravery he has absolutely no idea where he picked up from. when you come in with the most random set of outfit he’s ever seen, he chooses to hold back his tongue over your enthusiastic participation.
“sit tight!” he says, holding comically large canvas whose shadow swallowed up the whole room, “relax, and do whatever your heart tells you to do.”
— student!kaveh, who usually simply sketches things out of pure photographic memory, starts simple and structured for once. where would the chair go? where would you sit? would you look too stretched out if the table properties next to you weren’t matching? where should he exaggerate? how would the chandelier be hanging to get the perfect lighting? how would the painting behind you affect the composition?
— student!kaveh, who usually lets his hand dance on his canvas, plans everything out this time, and lets his mind flourish under the guidance of your radiant beauty. your soft smile, your relaxed posture, and your twinkling eyes lets him have fun- and he finds joy in drawing backgrounds, especially the furniture, for once- to emphasize the way you pose.
— student!kaveh, who drinks an ungodly amount of coffee every night and lets his sheer will do the rest, stops by in the kitchen to make you some snacks. he worries for you; “are you alright? is this posture tiring you? do you want water? i can get some for you. do you want some snacks, too? we can take a break. i don’t have much here, but i can always make a quick trip to the market.”
— student!kaveh, who finds joy in conversation with you while he works. you seem to harbor a decent amount of knowledge fitting for a scholar. if you talk about other subjects, kaveh’s more than willing to listen. if you enjoy studying architecture, that’s fine too! whatever the topic is, you both seem to have an endless stream of opinions and discussions to open up about, and watching your mouth run off on any particular topic brings him much satisfaction. it is always fascinating to understand another person deeply interested in a subject.
— student!kaveh, who starts to explore other color schemes in order to find the perfect one for you. your radiance is something that should be brought out and emphasized on his canvas, something future generations can look at and admire. maybe a bit of pink for the shadow? how about purple to shade your hair instead of gray? would yellow compliment your shoes? he thinks of them all, dabbling in this and that, until his palette blooms in different smears of colors.
— student!kaveh, who is willing to go on a rant to explain how you were the perfect muse, how your smile made his hand itch to draw it out, how your eyes crinkled and held the weight of your soul, how- oh. did he say muse? would you like to be? kaveh doesn’t mind in the slightest if you could continue to. in fact, how about he treats you to a nice meal tonight? the sun is setting, anyway, and it’ll be his way of saying thank you. (please say yes.)
— student!kaveh, who, after half an hour of deliberation on whether parting his bangs in a certain angle would make him look more presentable or not, shows up that night at the venue with a small sketchbook in his hands, telling you not to worry about it. every time your lips turn a certain way, or when the light hits your hand just right, he frantically sketches it down underneath the table, much to your confusion.
“did you enjoy the meal? hm? that? oh, it’s nothing. please, go on. you said something about how your friend could aether-edit?”
it was a pleasant time, despite him constantly dodging your questions on what in teyvat’s name he’s doing, and believing the constant rush he feels inside his head whenever you laugh is perfectly normal. you’re his muse, aren’t you? it’s only natural.
(and if the dinner spreads any rumors- well, kaveh thinks it’s normal to feel giddy, too.)
— student!kaveh, who, when looking at his graded paper days later, is pleased to know it is graded with high praise. the professor even commented on how he is finally starting to get a firm grasp on studying basic anatomy of architecture. (hmph. he thinks he was pretty good at anatomy up until then as well, but okay.) good- he’s put a lot of effort into that painting.
— student!kaveh, who insists on thanking you for the high grade again, the next time you run into each other- only this time with a bouquet of flowers, and a blush on his face.
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r0-boat · 2 days
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Mammon headcanon please?
One steaming hot pile of man titty coming right up
Mammon headcannons
NSFW&SFW
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In the dark head cannons list I did not explain that he has Mafia vibes. Which spoiler alert he absolutely does... He absolutely has some shady dealings with everyone in Tartaros. How else is he supposed to afford the most famous demon idols in hell just to watch him fuck you shdhdh.
other than you, Bimet is his favorite sugar baby. He likes to watch You two "play."
As much as he sees you as his master, he is still the avatar of greed; he sees you as his most prized treasure, an exotic animal he wishes to keep in a little cage forever. The first thing he did when he first met you was come back to Tartaros and order a whole ass room to be made when you stay here. Hopefully, it'll be your forever home :).
The nickname he put in his phone for you is "My Master"surprisingly it's the only nickname he has in his phone. That's just how strongly he feels about you
If you even breathe about how you like something he'll suddenly have everything about that one thing for you.
Mammon showers you with gifts. Even if you're not spending the night in Tartaros, he'll have flowers and presents at your door almost daily. With a handwritten letter explaining each gift and explaining how much he thought about you getting each one. He leaves the price tag on them on purpose.
Buying lingerie just so you could wear it for him is not off the table.
He gets a sick sense of joyment out of seeing your bewilderment of how much things cost. While you're choking on your own breath trying not to pass out at the number of zeros your counting Mammon just whispers into your ear "have more for you."
Everything celebrating you will be a Grand elite celebration, of course, it's all to show off his wealth and you. He takes everything about you seriously. He wants to show you that he could take care of you better than any man, devil, human, or angel could. Demons look at him with envy because they want you just as bad. I wouldn't trust those demons in Tartaros if they wish to you; they'll go to any lengths to have you.
Mammon insists on being with you everywhere you go; he is practically your shadow. Even if you're not really doing anything, he likes to watch you, study you. He started becoming more and more fascinated with humans ever since you came down here. He has all sorts of little random facts about you by just watching you (pisses Levi off).
He loves how his cock stretches you out when you cry, and sub of how big it is and it's too big, and it won't fit; it makes his cock harder. He always makes it fit, And he gets to watch your cute little belly bulge with his big dick.
Mammon and Satan have fucked, they were exes in the distant past.
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itsangelll · 2 days
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hii !! this is like really random, but i was wondering if you could do tom x fem reader who just has like random habits .. i have a couple in mind like kinda stomping when she sneezes or saying "bless me" to herself afterwards, squeaking and like clapping when shes super happy, i also have this super random one where i js like knock on my head randomly idk🧍‍♀️maybe like mimicking peoples words, expressions, and noises too, ermmmmm uhmmm or js like gasping when something the least bit surprising happens or zoning out a lot yk? 😭 these are js random ones, you can honestly choose wtvr, you can even do your own habits it doesn't really matter to me
thank you !!
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𝒯ℴ𝓂 𝒹𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶 𝑔𝒾𝓇𝓁 𝓌𝒽ℴ 𝒹ℴℯ𝓈 𝓇𝒶𝓃𝒹ℴ𝓂 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 𝒽𝒸 <3
A/n: hey cuties I apologise for not posting lately I have some shit going on at home but I hope you all are well!! enjoy :)
•so you were sitting in a room with Tom and you sneezed he was about to say something then you were like “Bless me” he was like this 😯 he didn’t know what to say and then you looked at him confused then explained it to him where you just do random things and then he understood
•Sometimes you like taking his clothes and trying them on cause it’s like a comfort thing for you and he absolutely loves it because you look amazing in his clothes of course <3
•Whenever you knock yourself on the head he gets worried cause he thinks you’ve hit yourself too hard and he like gets super worried which you love cause he’s a cutie
•HIS FAVOURITE AND MOST ADORABLE THING THAT YOU DO IS WHEN YOU CLAP WHEN YOUR SUPER HAPPY he smiles too much over it he’s just so in love with you
•You also love to skip when your super happy he just loves it and he skips with you (I did that once and I fell over)
•Your really really competitive at games and whenever you lose you just scream Tom gets real scared cause of this like he’s more terrified of you than bill when you get really competitive
•One time you were sitting with the band talking about whatever then whenever Tom spoke you’d mimick his words he was flabbergasted but he does it back to you as well it’s a cute thing you guys do
•You zone out a lot and Tom’s just staring at you like ☹️
•You also love to jump on him and hug him at any point of the day he loves this and he gets whiny when you go away from him cause he’s that clingy with you (I’d hug him so much and never let him go.)
A/n: I hope you all enjoyed i will try and post more mwah bye cuties <33
Taglist:
@itsmealaiah
@tomssexdoll
@jadedchar
@memzyyy
@madzandmore
@noellecrushes
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obae-me · 2 days
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A Taste of His Own Medicine- Simeon
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Guess who's back, back again, back with sick-fic posts again! Sorry that it's taken me a god-awful amount of time to post an update after my little teaser. Life often has a way of trying to ruin things, but I'll be damned if I don't manage to claw my way out of the depths to finish my works one inching crawl at a time! Anyways, I pray that this was worth the wait! Please, enjoy!
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Peace. These last few days, the whole of the Devildom seemed to be experiencing a lull of sorts. Curses, vengeful items, creatures from another world, monsters, mania, and overall magical mayhem felt as if they were in hibernation. Or at least giving you a wide berth. Or perhaps the brothers were repaying your sympathies, beating back problems with several well-intentioned sticks. A much needed break in your opinion. The stars shone brighter, and you had never slept deeper. It was quite like being on vacation despite you still spending most of your time holed up in the House of Lamentation. Even the brothers appeared to be quarreling less than usual. You’d even be tempted to say they were getting along. Yes…there was nothing exactly like this feeling of peace. You continued to rub the towel against the back of your head and neck as you moved down the hall, feeling nice and refreshed after a calming shower. It was rather late into the evening. Dinner was over with and everyone in the House had mostly moved into their respective rooms to get ready for the night. The last week or so had been so normal and blissful, you had completely forgotten about the several ‘events that shall-not-be-named’; a cheap title coined by the brothers to stave off embarrassment. One which you gladly accepted to avoid the risk of superstitiously summoning more incidents. There was something about fine health that you had forgotten to feel grateful for. In fact, you were quite excited to have another moment where you could just jump straight into bed, kick back, and enjoy the silence of the night.
So, with a gentle push of your door, you waltzed happily inside your room.
“Ah, there you are.”
The random sound of another voice had your muscles all jolt. You clutched at non-existent pearls (the towel would have to serve as ample replacement) as you caught your breath. A white head of hair and a small blond one. Two members of a home different than yours. Not exactly undesirable faces, but definitely unexpected ones. They both were sitting on your bed, feeling right at home as they set up a movie on your television, already in pajamas. As you raised an eyebrow, your eyes wandered down to two packed day-bags.
“I… Welcome?” There was clear confusion in your voice as you addressed them. Not to be rude or anything, but this was…your room as so many people seemed to forget. Maybe you should look into getting a plaque for your door… Plus, it wasn’t quite like these two to just show up unannounced. Solomon maybe, but Luke? Did they forget to invite you to a sleepover? A late-night tea party perhaps? The other human was hard at work getting himself settled and relaxed. On the other hand, the angel was avoiding your gaze a little, acting more fidgety than normal. “You both are here…why exactly?” you couldn’t help but ask.
At your question, the two guests looked at each other for a moment, like they were trying to determine who would answer. Both of them were stubbornly staring into each other’s souls. With a little bit of irritation, you cleared your throat, glaring at the more grown of the bunch. The sorcerer glanced back up at you and conceded. A little shrug was followed by a more slumped position as he leaned back against your pillows and started the show. To others, he would’ve come off as unbothered, but luckily you had come to know him better than that. There was a subtle frustrated tone to his voice, his limbs a bit stiff like he didn’t want to be resting, and his eyes seemed to be unfocused. There was something on his mind that was upsetting him, so his actions were attempting to overcompensate for his worries. “Let’s just say that the Hall is a little bit…overtaken at the moment.”
With a shake of your head, you sighed. One side shuffle brought you to stand in front of the screen in an attempt to get him to look at you. “That doesn’t tell me much of anything.” Begrudgingly, the movie was paused.
Then the angel spoke up. Luke stuttered at first, but then managed to find his words. A pillow was held tightly in his lap as he clutched it for comfort. “It’s Simeon! He- He’s been cursed!”
Panic seemed to flood your body. Your eyes went wide and your jaw opened just enough to prepare yourself for demanding more information. Cursed? Was it dangerous? Was he in trouble? Why were they both just sitting around when you all could be helping?! Or was it so bad that they had to escape to safety? However, before you lost yourself to stress, Solomon raised a hand. “Not a curse.” He rubbed away an itch at the end of his nose with one finger. “At least, I’m fairly positive it’s not.”
Luke didn’t appear entirely convinced. “But he’s…” Before finishing his thought, he just went silent. It was clear he was very concerned for his guardian, but didn’t know how to go about fixing it.
“In my expert opinion,” the human continued, “I believe he’s simply not feeling well.” A bitter sensation crossed over your tongue. “I noticed he was acting strangely a few days ago, but any time I tried to pry information out of him, he turned me down. And quite cleverly turned my attention elsewhere, might I add.” Familiar actions started to leave an itch in your brain. A creeping sort of dread covered your skin. But, as soon as you started to notice these details, you shook your head, flinging them off of you. Now wasn’t the time to be feeling that way. Solomon continued to explain the situation. “And then he began to…how do I put this? Become rather obsessive.” He narrowed his eyes a little and glanced downwards, looking at nothing in particular. “I didn’t think anything of it at first…” All the sudden, he sighed, his playful mask falling and turning quite somber and serious. “Simeon’s always been caring, clean, and precise, but its been as if those traits have been kicked up to exuberant levels. It started with just some extra angelic doting- you know how he is-, and then just a few hours ago, Simeon took it upon himself to start tearing the entirety of Purgatory Hall apart to deep clean it.”
Luke made a sad sort of sound, one that broke your heart. “We tried to help so it would go faster and be easier, but he wouldn’t let us.”
“Stubbornness isn’t inherently a demonic or mortal trait, it would seem,” Solomon quipped. “I tried talking him into getting some rest, but he didn’t appear to hear me. And I was…dissuaded from casting any spells.”
Two little eyebrows scrunched up in irritation. “No using magic on Simeon! He always tells us that we shouldn’t force someone into doing what they don’t want to do!” But, even as Luke exclaimed it, he couldn’t help but let a bit of shuddering doubt slip into his voice.
“Well…” The immortal man appeared a bit guilty. “I just hope he doesn’t get himself into trouble trying to potentially clean my room…”
That dug in a different sort of fear… You glanced at the both of them and sighed, glancing out the window. Simeon… If he wasn’t feeling well, why was he trying to convince everyone otherwise? Well, the reason why didn’t particularly matter. If this was…him being sick, he needed rest. The angel probably knew that deep down, but maybe it had been too long since he put his needs above anyone else’s. You’d just have to remind him that self-care wasn’t inherently selfishness. Enough of your own self-pity! You had been given enough of a break. Besides, since when did you get the chance to take care of an angel, especially one so kind and lovely at that? Yes! You were back in business! “Alright!” you exclaimed a little too loudly, almost making your guests jump. “Leave him to me!”
Solomon processed your words before he smiled. “I knew we could count on you.” Cheeky little… So that was why they were here in your room and not over at the castle which had enough rooms to house a gala. Ah well, he could be lectured later.
“Try not to destroy my own room while I’m gone…”
“No promises!"
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After a short jog- more like a speed walk- you were in front of Purgatory Hall. For some reason, you expected some sort of… cursed aura to spring from the place, but it stood as it normally did. Fingers crossed that the lack of one meant that Simeon had yet to get his hand on any of the myriad of dangerous items Solomon possessed. Hands tucked inside the pockets of your jacket, you approached the front door. Part of you wanted to immediately let yourself in, but you kept yourself restrained. Not only was knocking first good manners, but you also weren’t quite sure of the state Simeon was in. Hopefully an easier one than the brothers had been. Your knuckles drummed the door a few times. There was no answer. You attempted the doorbell next. Aside from the haunting ringing echoing inside, there was nothing… Normally, that would’ve been concerning, but if you tilted your ear near the door, you could clearly hear some ruckus inside. Sounded like the tooth-achingly familiar squeak of furniture being moved across the hardwood floors. Once more you knocked. “Hello? Simeon? Can you hear me?” The following silence spoke volumes. “I’m coming in then,” you warned, giving the angel a few more moments before opening the front door.
Stepping inside the entrance hall, you could feel floods of angelic magic filling the halls, along with the smell of several cleaning products and also…cookies? The sugary scent mingling with the chemically one made your stomach churn a bit. The sight was also rather overwhelming. When Solomon mentioned the Hall being torn apart, you thought perhaps he was being melodramatic. However, one glance from by the door suggested otherwise. Furniture was pushed from their spots and tipped over, paintings were pulled off of walls and laid out on the floor, blankets and towels and sheets and cloths and clothes were hanging to dry on wires that were strung back and forth in zig-zag patterns across the walls. No wonder Solomon and Luke absconded away.
“Simeon?” You called out again, ducking under some of the clothes as you pushed through the rest of the dorm. The sound of rather aggressive cleaning seemed to get louder as you approached the kitchen, the obnoxious noise of clanging silverware making you cringe.
The kitchen was in a rather right state. Cupboard doors thrown open, every single item pulled off the shelves, a worrisome teetering stack of dishes- that already looked clean, mind- piled in the sink. The room was much too bright, your eyes rapidly blinking as your brain mistakenly thought of sunlight. It took you longer than you’d like to admit to remember you were in the Devildom. The more you adjusted your focus, the more it became apparent that Simeon was the source of the radiance. It was hard to see him clearly, worried about the effects staring right at him would have on your vision. You walked further into the kitchen, stepping over several glistening feathers and loose parchment with scribbled works from his next project. Heat radiated out in all directions, feeling as if you were wading through a sauna.
Several times you called out to him, trying to announce your presence but not even getting a huff of acknowledgment from him. In fact, it seemed that he was completely oblivious to anything in general. The only thing he could do was flit about the room in a panicked state, his fingers raw from all the scrubbing and work he was doing. Some kind of stress response? “Simeon!” The voice that trembled its way from your throat was more frightened than you meant it to sound. But it couldn’t be helped. You had never seen Simeon quite like this before. Was it simply angelic duty intensified by a thousand? A cleanliness is next to godliness sort of deal? Or maybe he was too similar to Lucifer in the sense that he needed to fulfill some sense of obligation to feel ‘normal’. Who knew? It certainly didn’t matter in this moment. Your feet closed the distance between you two in seconds, leaping against him, arms tightening around the angel’s waist. Simeon’s body jolted as your forehead pressed against the skin of his exposed back. Much like the brothers when they had gotten sick, Simeon was much hotter than he should be. It nearly hurt you just to embrace him like this, quite like having your face much too close to an open flame. But you’d deal with it for just a little longer. “Please… Just stop for a moment.”
The hug seemed to put a screeching halt to his momentum. He’d probably been running on fumes for hours now, knowing that the moment he stopped was the moment he would collapse. Even now, his legs were shaking, his body working into overdrive just to keep himself steady. He wobbled and clutched onto one of the kitchen counters. The Celestial light in the room started to dim a little. “MC?…” Finally, he seemed to notice you. “I’m sorry…I didn’t hear you come in. S-Sit down…I’ll get you something to drink.” He attempted to shift in your grasp.
Your hold on him tightened, your fingers curling into the fabric of his warm clothes. You cleared your throat, trying to eliminate the earlier squeak in your voice. “You won’t be doing anything.” Even if you had felt like playing along, you had to wonder how he would do anything with the state the kitchen was in. It was all you could do to keep from imagining that giant pile of plates toppling down on top of him.
“I… Well, at least let me finish up in here. I don’t want to leave it like this for Solomon and Luke.”
Your eyes softened even though he wasn’t facing you. He really was out of it, wasn’t he? “They’re not here, Simeon.”
His back stiffened against you. “W-What?”
“They’re not here,” you reiterated, releasing your arms from around his sides and coming around to face him. Taking in his countenance sunk your heart. His well-kept hair was frazzled and flat, his skin dry, hands calloused. Ink and grime coated the inside of his fingernails. Typically, his eyes held a particular light in them, a small halo around his irises, but now that light was gone, dulled. “They came over to the House of Lamentation to tell me what was going on. They’re still there, worried for you…”
With that revealed to him, his face twisted into remorse. “They left? Because of me?… I didn’t mean…” A sigh left his chest as he stepped behind you, stuffing his hands into two oven mitts as he pulled a sheet of freshly baked cookies out of the oven behind you. “I’ll at least go take these to them…” Even now he was still thinking about caring for others…
“Simeon.” With his name being called, he looked over his shoulder at you. You reached out and took both his wrists in your grasp, taking the mitts off his hands. After you put them on the counter- which was positively gleaming, by the by - you found yourself acting impulsively bold. Without thinking, your touch went to his cheeks, feeling the flush beneath his skin. You gently guided his head down to lean on your shoulder. You tilted your cheek to press against his temple, your palm tenderly resting on the back of his neck. For a moment, there was silence. A comfortable, knowing silence. “I know it might be rather shocking to discover, but those two can handle themselves. At least for a little while.” You managed to chuckle, but he didn’t seem to find it amusing. Or maybe he was simply feeling too miserable to muster any mirth. “Listen…don’t you start feeling guilty over stepping back from those responsibilities for a little while. Your worth isn’t measured by your output…if that makes sense…I’m not the best at impactful speeches. You understand where I’m getting at, don’t you? And you understand that I’m dragging you to bed regardless, right?”
Two arms wrapped around you and ran up your back. “You’re right…”
Despite the situation, you managed a big grin. “Yes, I am,” you chimed. “Let’s go now.” You took one of his hands firmly in yours, leading him through the labyrinth of his own making and towards his room. Unfortunately, his domain didn’t seem to escape the chaos. So, you sat him in a chair and worked to try to get things mostly in order. You pushed the bed-frame back up against the wall, plugged the side lamp back into the socket behind the nightstand, found the bedding hung up in the hallway, and even went so far as to fluff the pillows. When you proudly turned back towards the angel with your hands on your hips, you saw that while you were busy, he had discarded his shoes, cloak, and gloves.
Simeon pushed himself out of the chair and up on his feet, his hand curling around his forehead as he staggered towards the bed. You held out your arms precautiously. He practically flopped onto the mattress, his face temporarily buried into the comfort of a crisp cold pillow. It pained you to see him like this, and you had the sinking feeling that he was expending most of his efforts to hide as much of the sickness from you as he could. A few of your fingers worked on pushing some of the hair from his face. Even his locks were rather toasty. At the very least, he took in a nice deep breath. “Is it wrong…” he started, his voice drifting into a whisper, “…that I’m happy you’re here?”
Those words left you frozen for a while. You just stared down at him, resisting the urge to just hop into bed next to him and hold him next to you. “Why would it be wrong?”
“I…remember how tired you looked.” Your eyes went a little wide at his answer. “I remember thinking at the time how unfair it must’ve been for you. But then…when I first started feeling…under the weather…” His eyes glanced up at you, his arm twitching against his sheets like he had half a mind to reach out for you. “All I could think of was how nice it would be to have you here with me…”
Your lips parted as you went to speak, but no words came out. Guilt swirled in your soul a little. Had he really kept this all hush just for your sake? If that were the case though, he would’ve told the other members of Purgatory Hall, surely. He was partially right though, with the fact that it would do no one good if you wrung yourself dry trying to help someone else. Finally, you sat by his side in bed, pulling a cooled sheet over his body and rubbing his taut shoulders. “I did seem to go a little overboard in the care-taking aspect when the brothers all turned ill, you’re right… But, you can rest assured that I won’t push myself too hard by taking care of you… After all, you wouldn’t let me do such a thing, would you?” His expression seemed to brighten, taking hold of your hand and pressing it against his own face as he shook his head. “And don’t you worry. Tomorrow I’ll be summoning Solomon and Luke back home to help put the Hall back in one piece. So for now,” you leaned forward and embraced him, nearly cradling his head against your body, “rest, and prepare to be fully cared for just as you deserve.”
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idleoblivion · 3 days
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"A Dangerous Muse" Jade Leech x GN Reader
Synopsis: You found him so pretty, it was hard not to get inspired. Still, it felt a little creepy to sketch him without permission. But it’s fine as long as he doesn’t find out, right?
Word Count: ~1.5k
A/N: This was supposed to be like maybe 500 words idk what happened
Warnings: Lots of teasing (I mean, it's Jade), brief Floyd cameo
Your secret wasn’t a particularly bad one, it was mostly just embarrassing. When he sat with his brother and Azul at lunch, when you could catch him during his shift at the lounge, and if you just happened to spot him at random around campus, you would take almost any chance to draw Jade in your sketchbook. They were usually just sketches of him looking poised and gentlemanly as he did whatever task he had taken up at the time. Occasionally though, you caught him being slightly more expressive, smiling in a way that showed his pointed teeth and made his eyes wrinkle. You were more than a little embarrassed of how well you had learned the details of his face, and by the dozen or more pages you’d already filled up with drawings of him. Something about him just felt naturally alluring and intriguing to you, he made the perfect muse.
Right now, you’re sitting at a table in the lounge trying to look like you're studying and not waiting for the appearance of a certain eel. You picked a seat off to the side by yourself like usual to not draw any attention. You were pretty sure you had overheard him in the halls earlier say he was working this afternoon, so it was odd to you that he hadn’t shown up yet. You pull your sketchbook out while you wait and look through some of your previous works. You sigh looking at one of them where you were especially proud of how you captured the mischievous look that he had been wearing, with a predatory glint in his mismatched eyes that-
…Was incredibly similar to the way he was looking at you right now.
You hadn’t seen him enter from the front door or kitchen, he seemingly materialized out of thin air. But he was there now, walking past the other patrons at their tables and headed towards your own. You hurriedly shut your sketchbook and try your best to act casual.
“Oya, what a surprise seeing you here, prefect. Are you here to try our new menu?” His eyes still have a dangerous look to them, and he not so subtly steals a few glances at your sketchbook.
“No actually, I just got done studying. I was getting ready to leave.” You try to grab your sketchbook and leave before he has time to question you further, but his hand reaches out and sits on top of it first.
“Oh, you’re already done? Are you sure? I could take a look at what you’ve been working on and assist you if you need.” He has a knowing smirk on his face that immediately increases your anxiety. His hand is still resting on top of the sketchbook.
“Uh, that won’t be necessary. I can’t afford to be making deals right now and-”
“Why, who said anything about a deal? Can’t I want to help you simply out of the goodness of my heart?” He feigns an innocent expression that you don’t trust in the slightest.
Before you can retort, he grabs the sketchbook off the table and moves to open it. You nearly lunge out of your seat to try and grab it from him but he seems to anticipate it and holds it behind his back, out of your reach. He smiles again at your panicky face.
“Oya, what’s this? Is there something private in this book of yours? I thought you were supposed to be just studying?” 
“I-I was, I just don’t want you doing anything to my notes, I worked hard on them.” His eyes narrow but his smile widens. “Yes, I’m sure you did. I promise I won’t compromise your work, I only intend to look.”
He pulls the sketchbook in front of him again, and you have to resist the urge to attempt to snatch it immediately. He steps forward until he’s too close, in your personal space. You try to back up only to find he has you caught between him and the table. He really leans in, his face only a few inches from you and you feel your cheeks heating up at the unexpected proximity.
“You’re sure all I’m going to find in here is notes, hm?”
Your mouth opens and closes a few times, trying to find another excuse to get you out of this. Him being so close to you certainly isn’t helping you get your thoughts together. He takes advantage of your shocked state and finally opens it to the page you’d been on.
“W-wait, Jade you can’t-”
“My, what’s all this~?”
He holds the book out of your reach again while he flips through the pages. You don’t even move to stop him this time, accepting your humiliating fate. You look away from him in your shame, which makes you miss the way his eyes light up as he skims over your work.
“...You’re certainly a skilled artist, I’ll give you that.” You force yourself to look back at him and gauge how upset at you he is, but his demeanor offers you no clues to what his mood really is. “I’m no critic, but I can appreciate how detailed your drawings are. You must have studied me very intently, no?”
“I…um, I guess? I just draw you whenever I see you around. I’m sorry, I know that’s-” “Why me?” You’re caught off guard by that question, and he repeats, “Why me? There are a plethora of other students you could draw, but as far as I saw, I appear to be your only subject. Why is that?”
Well, there’s no point in lying to him, and you were already so mortified, what’s a little more humiliation?
“You’re really pretty.”
For the very first time, you see Jade look almost dumbstruck. Only for a brief moment though, as his face almost immediately changes to something much more intense. You almost think he’s upset until you realize he’s looking at you with the same face he made at his terrariums, or when he cultivated a new species of mushroom. He was intrigued, you had his full attention and interest and the weight of it was becoming overwhelming the longer he stared at you.
“You…” he trails off for a second then leans in close to you again. “It’s impressive how often you manage to surprise me.”
“I’m sorry, I still should’ve asked. I can stop, really, I will. I’m so sorry.” You spoke fast and quietly, still wishing for nothing more than a way out of this situation.
“Now, there’s no need for that. Artists need to practice regularly to improve their skills, yes? I would hate to take that away from you.” “Huh? So…you want me to keep sketching you?” “Unfortunately, Azul would have a fit if he found out I was offering you a service and not charging anything.” Of course, nothing comes for free in Octavinelle. 
“Well, what would you charge then? Madol? Would I have to wait tables here?” He laughs lightly under his breath.“No, nothing like that. I believe our little deal should be well thought out and discussed, not impulsively decided right here and now. Why don’t you meet me back here this weekend, and we’ll work something out? Just you and I of course, I’m sure we don’t need Azul to mediate. Maybe I could even have you sample some dishes from our new menu during our discussion. There would be no charge for that of course, since you’d be doing me a favor by agreeing.” 
As you look at his face to decipher his intentions, you're left even more confused. Why is he looking at you almost…fondly? And he wants to meet with you completely alone? And he’d offer you food for free? What did he mean by you meeting with him being a favor to him? Was this…a date? What exactly was he implying? He just continued watching you, with his polite and courteous persona that you can never truly read put back on. Still a bit flustered, you try and rationalize why you should or shouldn’t go, before he interrupts your thoughts one last time.
“Oh, and you’re very pretty as well.”
Your face is burning after that. You swallow the lump in your throat before you meekly respond.
“Oh, t-thanks. Um, yeah, this weekend sounds great.” He smiles with his teeth on display again. “I look forward to it, prefect.” He grabs your hand and places a chaste kiss to the back of it before offering you your sketchbook back. You take it without a word, brain completely short circuiting.
Then just as suddenly as he appeared, he was gone. He left you by yourself with your own racing thoughts and heart and headed towards Azul’s office. You quickly gather yourself and get ready to leave. On your way out the door, you suddenly spot Floyd watching you with an amused smirk. He makes some kissy faces and noises at you teasingly and points toward the office where Jade is. Your face gets hot all over again and you rush out of the lounge, hearing Floyd cackle at you as you hurry away.
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Note
Idia with bottom incubus reader 🙏
Where it's reader's first time being an incubus and he finally gets to do his job for the first time but he accidentally gets teleported to some random guy (Idia) instead of a woman
Coming right up~!
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Title: Wrong Turn
Characters: top!Idia x bottom!incubus!reader
Contains: reader is an incubus, virgin Idia, pet names (pretty boy, sweet boy)
Fandom: Twisted Wonderland
Full request below the cut
All characters are 18+
MINORS, FEM ALIGNED, AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS DNI
Reblogs > likes
"Yes! My first summon! You excitedly flew around the area, watching as the portal slowly opened in the middle of your domain.
Ever since your recent creation, you had been waiting eagerly to be summoned, awaiting to charm a pretty lady. Once the portal's flames flickered to life and stopped growing in size, it was safe to cross. You happily flew into the tear of space, flittering through dimensions.
It was quite easy to navigate. You followed the string of desires, like following a light at the end of a tunnel. It was a quick journey thanks to your speed, and when you popped up from the summoner's ground, you immediately burst into a charasmatic introduction, hand on your chest, posed dramatically.
"Well hello there, dear~ You've done right by summoning me. Trust me when I say that you will have the night of your life. We can go as long as you like, or you can leave all control to me and--"
Once your eyes landed on the summoner, you froze.
Blue hair flickered like a flame, dark stained lips were parted in surprise, and wide, tired yellow eyes were practically glowing against the dim light. There was a controller gripped tightly in trembling hands. Was this...your summoner?
Returning to a more neutral pose, you gazed about the room in silence. This certainly was no woman's room, at least, that you were aware of.
"...Well...This is embarrassing," you sighed out, rubbing the back of your neck. "I must have taken a wrong turn..."
"Wh...What are you?"
That voice... Yeah, this only solidified that you made some sort of error on your way over, but could you really blame yourself? This was your first summon, your first journey! There had to be some leeway, right?
Well...something had to be done. You were here, and you had one of two choices: you could charm this person into a night of passion, or you could wipe his memory and pretend this never happened.
And why waste such a good opportunity?
"Well my friend~" Returning to your more entertaining voice, you hovered over toward the other, a teasing smile already set on your face. "I'm your friendly little incubus~ I'm here to provide you with all the fun you could ever desire~"
He brought up the controller, using it to hide part of his face from your closeness. He was silent for awhile, waiting for you to continue instead.
"By the way your room looks, and..." You gave a small scoff, "by how you look, is it safe to say you haven't had a lick of fun?"
Amidst all the blue, you could see gradients of pink show from the controller barrier. The male's eyes darted away, afraid to now meet yours.
"Yeah, I thought so, but don't worry! That's why I'm here~" With a single finger, you pushed the controller down, revealing his flustered face to you. "If you let me, I can show you what it's like to have all that fun~"
You were surprised to receive an answer.
"O-Only if...I could...um..."
You hummed inquisitively, a finger tracing along his pale jaw before resting under his chin to tilt his head up. "Yes, sweet boy? Use your words."
"I...I want t-to...be the one to...um...p-put it in..." His gaze never met yours.
You fought to surpress a laugh. Really, this skittish little thing wants to put it in? To you, he screamed bottom, but this was his first time, so it was your duty to lead him through it.
"Alright, then~ Why don't we prep up~?"
---
While agreeing to let him put it inside of you, you would be damned if this chihuahua would actually top you. You had him lay on his bed, the male keeping his clothes on, though his pants were unbuttoned and ready. He had his arms over his eyes, shielding himself from your nude form.
"Oh come on now," you teased, crawling over him and lifting one arm up from his head and uncovering part of his face. "You've never even seen a naked body that wasn't your own?"
You could see the pink seep to his neck. God he was so flustered.
"Well...before we get started, can I have the honor of knowing the name I'll be screaming...~?"
His breath hitched in his throat, the response almost forced out. "I-Idia."
"Idia...Alright~ I'm y/n, and it'll be a pleasure to have you fill me~"
Not minding his little flustered reactions, you sat yourself upon his lap, starting off with a simple grinding. It was enough to get Idia to whine out, the friction new and sensitive along his shaft. For you, it was just as pleasing. You felt him harden against you, and it sent chills down your spine. If this was enough to rile you up, then you knew you'd enjoy more.
It didn't take long for him to writhe his hips, his boxers and pants growing tight. His motions only drew more sounds from you, and your impatient self couldn't wait anymore. Sitting up some, you retrieved the hardened cock from its confines, practically drooling at the sight.
"Oh, you're a big boy for a virgin~"
No response, but you would make sure you get one as you positioned the tip against your ass.
"A-Alright, I'm gonna go down, is that o-okay~?"
There was a pause, but Idia nodded his head. You had the clear.
Thanks to your incubus body, taking cocks was actually an easy feat. You didn't need to prep up as much as a human would, and you were thankful for that. Upon sitting yourself to the hilt, your wings spread out in a flutter, your eyes rolling back from the sensation that collided with you.
"F-Fuck~!"
You weren't the only one making sweet sounds, as Idia, whimpered out against how tight you felt, how hot it made his cock feel. "T-Tight..."
"Y-Yeah, tight, isn't it, pretty boy? Does it feel good~?"
This answer didn't take long. In fact, it was almost immediate. "Y-Yes. P-Please, don't stay still."
You quirked a brow at the response. "Y-You sure? You...barely got inside."
While you were more than ready, you wanted your partner to be comfortable while intimate. Idia was, in fact, comfortable. So much so that he gripped onto your hips and thrusted into you, setting off a chain reaction.
You cried out into the air, your back arching as his hips came into contact with your ass. You felt a wave of bliss wash over you as you felt him piston deep inside. Strings of swears fell from your lips as you soon lost your balance and hunched over him, his movements not halting. For a virgin, he was quite excited, unless he actually wasn't a virgin? You weren't sure at this point. All you cared about was what you were summoned for: sexual fun.
"G-God you're so big...~" you moaned into his ear, clutching onto his shoulders. "Q-Quite a shock f-for a guy like you~"
He was silent, taking advantage of this once in a life time situation he had fallen into. As his motions continued, a name was sounded from his mouth, a name that was well known to you as, well, it was your own.
Your cock twitched against you two as you heard your own name muttered from him. You felt yourself already nearing your climax, and you only had your fresh creation to blame.
Coincidentally, Idia was nearing his end. Both your moans pitched in tone as you two came without warning. Your seed coated between you and him, dirtying his shirt as Idia's cum filled you in turn.
You two lay on his bed, chests heaving with every deep breath. You turned your head to give his sweat sheened neck a small kiss, causing him to shudder further. You then leaned up to his ear, a hint of teasing in your voice.
"How about a round two?"
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