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luveline · 3 days

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Hiii!! Could I request a bombshell reader x Spencer where someone (a local police maybe) says something rude to her about her appearance or something and normally it doesn’t really get to her, but something snaps and she kinda shuts down/is rude to Spencer until he coaxes it out of her? Sorry it’s long I had an idea and ran w it loollll

ty for requesting angel! confident fem!reader, 1k

Spencer shouldn’t expect his colleague to hold his hand, especially one so confident. What sense would that make, a woman as established as you are, who smiles without a lick of worry nor smugness, wanting to hold his hand?

But you do it all the time, is the thing. In the car on the way to crime scenes, in the hallways of the office, under the round table. It started as a tethering for his distractedness, when one day he’d wanted to talk but hadn’t had the presence of mind to walk at the same time, so you’d taken his hand and led him to the office. You’ve been taking it at your discretion ever since.

Spencer knows something is wrong —you haven’t tried to hold his hand all day. And even if you aren’t interested in him romantically, Spencer has come to crave the touch. He’ll accept platonic hand holding. Anything, really.

“You’re staring very deeply, Dr. Reid,” you mutter, shades from your usual lightness.

“I’m thinking.”

“Aren’t you always?”

“About you.”

“Well,” you smile fleetingly. “You should always be thinking about me.”

“You’re truly humble.”

His joke doesn’t land, it crashes and burns; your smile fades completely into a short, sharp line. Your gaze moves back into the restaurant, waiting for the team's food order in silence once again.

Spencer’s pinky finger twitches across the gap.

“Is everything okay?” he asks.

“Fine.”

You stay quiet, Spencer worries. He takes the bags before you can when they bring your food to the collection desk, two lumps of heat he holds to his thighs as you begin the walk back to the hotel. Tonight, the team will pick at their food together and rehash the same arguments they’ve been making all day, filling in each other's gaps, and tomorrow the work will start again. He can’t have you this unhappy again tomorrow.

“You’re amazing,” he says, watching you turn to him from the corner of his eye, “you know you are, we all do, everyone who meets you. I know you don’t need me to tell you that, or to feel better, but… I’m here for you. If you want to talk. It’s been a hard couple of days, and talking about traumatic events as they happen and directly afterward make them easier to recover from.”

“I’m not traumatised.”

“Upsetting,” he corrects. “Having a shoulder to cry on is good for you, and I can be that shoulder. You know, if you need me to be.”

He can’t know this in the moment, though maybe one day you’ll tell him, further down the line when the hand holding is better defined, but you look at him and you love him. To know Spencer is to love him. Or at least that’s how you’ve always felt. You’d love to cry on his shoulder about what transpired that morning if it weren’t embarrassing to think about, you’re upset over a throwaway comment made by nobody important.

Spencer offers his company earnestly. He stammers. It’s amazingly sincere, as he usually is. He won’t mind if it’s embarrassing, he’ll just listen.

You clear your throat. “I know I’m not to everyone’s taste. I know that the way I… present myself isn’t what most men like. People love confidence, but not when it’s bossy, not when it’s– when it’s vain. And I am vain. I think about my appearance a lot, I think I’m beautiful most of the time, I try so hard to have that be true.” You eye him thoughtfully. “Do you realise that?”

He shakes his head gently, one ear toward one shoulder and then the other, as though balancing. “Sort of. I know you put effort into your appearance, but I also assume a lot of it to be natural.”

“Right, well. It’s not natural. Not really. My natural beauty wouldn’t be all the beautiful to most people. And I’ve accepted that, I know what I like about myself, and–” You’re losing the thread of your point, an upset creeping into your melodic tone and turning it ragged. “When people tell me they don’t like how I look now, I guess it hurts because I know they wouldn’t like me before, either, and I feel defeated because I know I can’t win.”

“Who said they don’t like how you look?” Spencer asks, confused, on his way to annoyed.

“Officer Friendly.” You look to your shoes, watching the steps you take. “Guess he wasn’t as nice as we thought.”

“What did he say to you?”

You shrug. “Same story. He doesn’t like girls who wear makeup. Doesn’t like uppity women.”

“Did he call you that?”

“What are you gonna do if he did?” you ask without malice.

“Morgan’s teaching me self defence for a reason.” You smile at his light joke, though it doesn’t last. He transfers the takeout bags into one hand, the other held out to you, his fingers sliding down your arm to your wrist. “You know you’re beautiful, with or without makeup. And you’re not uppity, you’re out of his league. There’s a difference.”

“You’re flirting with me.”

“No.” He wishes he had the wherewithal sometimes, but this isn’t flirting. “I’m being honest with you. Men like that don’t like you because they know they’ll never, ever have you, or anyone like you. There isn’t anyone like you,” he adds, sliding his hand into yours.

He squeezes all your fingers together twice in quick succession.

“Don’t let a jealous chauvinist halfwit make you think you’re not good enough,” he says.

You curl your fingers around his before he can take his hand back. Slowly, you squeeze his hand. Then, smiling, you let him go.

“I’ve never heard you say something mean like that,” you say. “Halfwit. That’s crass.”

“I was going to say he’s an asshole, if that’s better.”

Your laugh echoes off of the sidewalk. “That’s perfect. Say something meaner.”

The insult he uses next doesn’t bear repeating.

#spencer and bombshell reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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tonycries · 14 hours

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Never Ever Seen This Before!

Synopsis. There’s a first time for everything - including trying out dirty little kínks with them.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, cóckwarming, mating press, oral (female + male receiving), manhandling, marking, spitting, bóndage, spanking (Nanami’s), dynamics, degradation, cúmplay, squírting, some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.6k

A/N. *sigh* can’t believe I deleted this before. If you know, then YOU KNOW.

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Stay still, goddammit!

Was being stuffed full of your boyfriend’s thick cock at all times really too much to ask? You think not.

Toji, however, really didn’t see the point.

“But, doll.” he groans, dragging his tip lazily in-between your swollen folds. And it was so sloppy - slick trailing down his length, smearing across the sheets. “Jus’ wanna fuck your pretty lil’ cunt.”

It’s not that Toji doesn’t like the feeling of your tight pussy wrapped around his cock. No, he loves it - is addicted even. And he loves it especially when you attack him in the morning like this - his pretty girl, all splayed out on her side, barely even blinking the sleep out of her eyes before you ache for his dick.

But, really, what’s the use of staying still - he’d rather fuck you till you’re breathless and creaming around his cock.

“Toji, you promised we’d try. Jus’ want to be stuffed full of your cock.” you pout, batting your lashes behind at him. “Don’ make me go on a sex ban.”

Oh, you little minx. He knew all your dirty tricks - yet, fell for them each time anyway. “Fine. Then fucking-” he lifts your legs a little higher, hips pulling back ever-so-slightly. “Take it.”

You barely even hear the rest of his sentence because Toji’s immediately bullying his throbbing dick into your pussy. Pushing against the resistance as you struggle to take his thick cock, not stopping till he’s buried all the way in your wet cunt.

Smirking at the way you mewl and grind your hips back into his, he wraps two muscled arms around your waist, holding you still on his cock. Murmuring in your ear, low and gravelly, “Not s’pposed to move, doll. Remember?

God, he knows you feel the way he twitches inside your dripping cunt at the way you whisper out a shaky little, “Y-yeah. No moving.”

And stubbornly you grit your teeth, being able to do nothing more than clamp down so deliciously on Toji’s pulsing cock as you stay still, relishing in the burn of him stretching you impossibly.

And maybe it’s been minutes - or even hours, because God did it feel that way to Toji as he watched you being broken by the mere feeling of being split apart on his cock. Patience slowly waning, he snakes down a hand to your poor, forgotten clit. Index tracing lightly over the sensitive bud.

“T-Toji what-” you immediately jolt, finally getting an ounce of the friction your cunt has been aching for this whole time. Mindlessly grinding into his erection - only to be stopped by a large hand on your hip.

“No moving, doll. Remember?”

“But-”

“Didn’t say anything about playing with your pretty lil’ clit now, did you?” he hums, knowing you were playing right into his hands. “Now. Don’t move.”

Ah, you can do nothing but lay there and take it as Toji presses hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. Fingers starting to press, frantic, hard little circles on your swollen clit. Over and over- Like he was fucking you with his fingers the way he couldn’t with his dick.

Ugh, damn him. Damn him and his fingers that knew you so well.

It was maddening.

“Toji- please.” you sob out, powerless against the bruising grip keeping you in place. You wanted to move. You wanted him so bad.

“‘Please’ what?” he grunts. Clearly torn between focusing on drawing steady, agonizing patterns on your clit and fighting that feral part of himself that just wants to plunge into your pretty pussy over and over. Not stopping till you were cockdrunk and crying to cum.

“Please just fuck me- ah!”

Oh, you didn’t have to tell Toji twice. Because in one, fluid move, Toji’s pulling back, fucking you with harsh, jerky little movements of his hips. Twitching balls smacking you with each thrust. Not even caring to wait and let you adjust because fuck cockwarming, he’s wanted this so long and your needy lil’ pussy is milking him so good- “Shhh, it’s okay, doll. We have lotsa time to practice.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - So mean!

Nanami Kento was a gentleman. Always holding the door open, guiding you through crowds, gifting you bouquets even when there wasn’t a special occasion.

The only problem was that Nanami was a gentleman even when you didn’t want him to be. Even when what you really wanted was for him to push you down and tease you till you were crying and begging for his cock.

Like right now - kissing softly down your neck, large hands trailing across your skin as he lays you gently on your bed. Long fingers dipping into your soaked panties, drawing delicate patterns on your quivering thighs. But you’re not in the mood for delicate.

“K-Kento!” you whine, hips bucking into his featherlight touches. “Can we ah- do that thing we talked about?”

“I don’t want to hurt you, darling.” he murmurs against your skin.

You let out a pouty whine, one that you knew would make him break. “But I want you to, Kento. Wan’ you to break me. Please.”

He lets out a resigned sigh, running a hand through his hair. A loaded second of silence passes. One. Two. And just as you’re about to admit defeat, surprisingly, it’s Nanami that breaks the silence. “Fine then. Face down, ass up if you want to act like such a lil’ slut.”

You scramble to do what he says, mind reeling from the fact that oh this was Nanami - the same Nanami who’d never raised his voice or ever called you anything other than terms of endearment.

“Hm, good.” he grits out.

And that’s all you hear before a deafening rip! rings through the heady room. Looking back in shock, you realize with a jolt that Nanami had your tattered panties in his hands, your dripping cunt on full display for him.

As he positions himself behind you, resting his swollen cock the curve of your ass. Mindlessly, you push back against the feeling of Nanami’s achingly hard cock, hot and heavy on your skin, precum smearing everywhere. “Ken-”

Smack!

“Not Kento, darling.” he murmurs, palms smoothing over your ass. Lips kissing down your spine, in a way that would be so sweet if it wasn’t for the way he had you under his mercy.

You let out a strangled moan at the sharp sting, his large handprint searing into your skin. “S-sir?” you whisper, almost-experimentally. And oh was it the right answer - because he groans appreciatively, dick jumping so animalistically at the term leaving your swollen lips.

“Oh? So my slutty girl does know how to be good, huh?” he murmurs, voice so uncharacteristically dangerous. Hands spreading your swollen folds to take in the sight of your wet pussy. “Shit. Since m’feeling so nice, count to five n’ I’ll fill that tight lil’ cunt with my cock.”

You barely have the time to wonder what he means before you feel a sharp slap against your ass. Forcing you to yelp out a strained little, “O-one, sir.”

Nanami hungry eyes greedily take in the fat tears clinging to your lashes, hips bucking into his for more. Your mouth dropping into such a delicious little oh! as you’re torn between pain and pleasure.

You were so sweet falling apart underneath him that he can’t help but do it again. Smack! And again. Smack!

“Two. Hah! N’ t-three.”

Good, now it was time to put his good girl to the test.

With a low hiss of appreciation, he drags his throbbing cock across your wet folds, gathering your sweet juices on his tip. At the same time, Nanami’s hand connects with your ass again. Hard. Smack!

“Ah! Oh-”

“Count.”

“Four! Ngh- four, sir.”

Nanami’s amusement spikes at the way you were so desperately rutting into his cock. And, well, what his pretty slut wants - she gets, right?

Several things happen at once, he swiftly raises his hand for a final, hard smack. Hips reeling back ever-so-slightly to ram his cock into your snug cunt at the same time. Smack!

“Ah! Kento- Kento hgnh- shit feel s’good inside me.” you mewl, drunk off both the sharp sting on your ass and Nanami bullying his thick cock into your tight pussy, filling you up so good.

But not for long - because as soon as he was stuffing you full of his cock, Nanami’s pulling out just as fast. Your pussy clenching around nothing as you whirl behind to pout at him. Only for whatever whine to get stuck in your throat at two fingers shoving something flimsy and wet in your mouth. Forcing you to taste yourself.

Gagging around your soaked panties, a jolt runs down your spine at the positively feral glint in his eyes. Blinking away the tears in your eyes to take in the cruel little smile playing on his lips as he leans in closer to whisper, “My lil’ slut can’t even seem to remember what to call me, huh? I think she should be punished.”

Oh.

What have you done?

♡ GETO SUGURU - Drown me in it!

Geto Suguru has done it all - folded you in half, stuffed you full from all ends, had you begging and crying for more underneath him. He can confidently say that he hasn’t shied away from ticking off everything on the list.

That is until one random night in the shower, when he gets an epiphany - oh shit, Geto hasn’t made you squirt yet. Yes, it was the sudden image of you covering him in all your sweet juices. But more importantly - how dare he let his pretty girl go so long without cumming so hard you see the pearly gates of heaven?

So - like any good boyfriend - Geto has you splayed out on his navy sheets, your legs in the air, his painfully hard cock buried in your dripping cunt.

“Hngh- please. Shit shit shit m’cumming-” you whine, hips bucking wildly into his. Tears streaming down your face, clenching so hard around his dick that it makes it hard for Geto to thrust in and out at his steady, torturous rhythm. Fucking you through- which number orgasm was this again?

Ah, it doesn’t matter - because you didn’t squirt. Again.

“Awww…” you can barely hear his words over the blood roaring in your ears. “Didn’t squirt on that one either. C’mon now, my love, I know y’can do it f’me.”

Not wasting a second, Geto’s ramming his cock into your snug cunt once more. Heavy balls stinging your ass with each thrust - not even easing you into it any more because oh your little sobs were so pretty. Squirming and bucking into his touch despite your protests. “S-Sugu- I hah-, can’t-”

Now, as much as Geto loved your smart mouth - he loved it even more when you’re cockdrunk and babbling underneath him. Huffing out a laugh, he murmurs in your ear, “Yes, my love?” Veins grazing that one spot. Hard. “Can’t what?”

“Can’t cum anymore!”

Well - greedy gaze drinking in the way your swollen cunt swallowed him up so well, slick dripping down to his twitching balls - Geto begged to differ.

“Shut up. You will.” he mutters, shifting the angle to hit that one spot that has you gasping and bucking your hips for more. Your fists bunching up the soaked sheets below you, fucking yourself desperately into his throbbing cock. Curling deftly against that one spot. Over and over-

“Close, my love?” Geto sing-songs, “Think this could be the one?”

And oh does he find out. Because you’re cumming again - stars behind your eyes, walls clamping down so sinfully as he fucks you through your high. Your nails claw at his shoulders in an effort to get him to fucking slow down - but no, Geto is ruthless with his abuse. Hips faltering only once you show signs of your high bating.

And before you can even react, your boyfriend’s starting his movements again. Milking himself on your heavenly pussy.

You can’t even form coherent sentences at this point, only fucked-out whimpers leaving your swollen lips - it’s been like this for hours now. You’ve cum more times than you can probably count, yet here Geto was - not even once tonight. A slow, agonizing torture for the both of you. All because he wanted you to fucking squirt.

His thumb was ravaging your sensitive clit, pleasure nothing more than tingles now as Geto fucking ruins you. Hips bullying his thick cock into your heated pussy, thrusts no more than sloppy little movements. Your pussy dripping onto your bedroom floor.

Unforgiving. Geto Suguru was absolutely unforgiving.

“C’mon, my love.” his words were so sweetly whispered in your ear - barely audible over your cries. Geto nips at your earlobe, purring lowly, “Squirt on this one, n’ I’ll fill your pretty lil’ pussy with my cum like you want s’bad.”

And then, it happens - something snaps.

Your orgasm crashes through you. So violent and hard that you see flashes of white behind your eyes. You cry out, trembling as your sloppy pussy squirts all over Geto. Covering him in all your sweet juices till his abs are glistening with your slick. Dripping down his body and absolutely soaking the sheets below.

And oh how he was entranced. Geto barely registers his own orgasm, hips faltering as he pumps thick, hot ropes of seed into your quivering cunt. Cumming at the mere sight of you creaming on his cock. His pretty girl was so gorgeous squirting all over him.

It was so so worth edging the both of you to the brink of insanity. He thinks his only regret was not having you squirt all over his face too.

Well…now he only had to see if he could do it twice.

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Lollipop!

Shit, you thought your best friend would have a huge dick - but this was ridiculous.

So intimidatingly long and pretty, swollen tip flushed your favorite shade of pink, matching his blushing cheeks. Beads of precum leaking down, down, down the side so mouth-wateringly as you seat yourself in-between those sculpted thighs.

“Y-you sure about this, sweetheart?” Choso hisses, despite the way his cock throbs animalistically in your soft hands.

You raise a brow, batting your lashes so deceivingly innocently. “Are you sure, Cho? S’your first, after all.”

He should say no. He should laugh it off as a joke. He shouldn’t ruin this friendship - but oh how badly he wanted to see your pretty lips wrapped around his dick. Have you choking and gagging around him. So, any rationality thrown out the window, Choso nods slowly. Entranced.

Grinning wickedly, you whisper, hot breath making his angry cock twitch “Thought so.”

“But are you su- hngh!” Whatever sentence at the tip of his tongue is cut off as you spit on his length. Once. Twice. Your palms smearing the saliva along his throbbing length. Enough of an answer. And then there’s no more talking.

Choso’s mouth drops into a fucked-out little oh! of disbelief as your tongue darts out to collect the saliva and precum pooling at his head.

Moaning at his slightly salty taste, you take in as much of him as you can - inch by fucking inch. Not stopping till your nose meets the small tufts of black hair at this toned pelvis. Because this was your devastatingly sexy best friend and he deserved the best.

God, Choso already thinks he could pass out.

Heavy balls squeezing so painfully, his veins graze against the roof of your mouth as you start bobbing your head at a quick, ruthless pace. Milking Choso’s pretty cock for all he’s worth. Not even easing him into his first, because fuck only one taste and you’re already addicted.

So, really, it only makes sense that Choso was the same. “Oh- Oh fuck! Feels s’good hngh-” he babbles, hips bucking up involuntarily into your warm, plush mouth. “Shit shit shit oh-.”

Was this what heaven felt like? He really was missing out.

“Oh, fuck. Yeah, feel s’good around me, sweetheart.” he groans, as you tongue at his sensitive slit. Fingers digging into the soft armrest while he tries to keep himself together.

You notice - of course you do - because soon enough you’re grabbing his arms to rest on your head, teary eyes blinking up at him so sinfully as you suck the soul out of him.

In a split-second, Choso’s carding his fingers through your hair, holding you steady as he rams his cock down your throat.

“Fuck- m’s-sorry, sweetheart. S’too ngh- fucking good.” his words slur together, drunk off the way you gag around him. Letting yourself be so used as he fucks your mouth so ferally. Not half the man he was just a moment ago.

By God were you a vision, he thinks deliriously - tears stinging your eyes, drool dripping down the corner of your mouth, lips stretching so lewdly around him as you take him in and out in and out in and- And if he angled your head just right he could see the bulge in your throat. Him - all him. “Sorry- ah! s’pretty hgnh- pretty when you’re full of my cock.”

“Gonna be m’first, huh?” he moans deliriously, “”Gonna let me fuck up into that pretty lil’ mouth whenever I want?”

The only response he gets are your pathetic, wet gurgles, and the smacking of his heavy balls hitting your chin. This was heaven and you were an angel.

And that only makes Choso speed up his sloppy thrusts more. Each thrust deeper and harder than the last. Balls tightening, feeling his sanity crumbling away each time his throbbing erection hits the back of your throat. Over and over-

“Ah! Sweetheart- m’not gonna last long. M’close-” he lets out a guttural groan, tugging on your hair to pull you away.

But alas, you seemed every bit intent on ruining him. Because the only response he gets are your nails digging deeper into his milky hips, leaving angry, red marks in their wake. Ones for him to remember you by - not that he thinks he could ever forget this.

And that itself is enough to have Choso spilling into your mouth. Shooting thick, hot spurts of seed down your waiting throat.

Messy. It was so fucking messy.

Heart in his throat, breaths ragged, Choso has to blink his vision back. And if he thought he was going to pass out before then he wasn’t ready for you to proudly stick out your tongue - showing absolutely no trace of his cum. Swallowing everything he gives.

“I-I think,” he starts, voice shot, “S’time for me to return the favor.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Drunk on you(r cunt)!

Why the hell would the King of Curses ever kneel down to anyone?

Why would he ever wrestle your legs so shamefully open, dive nose-first into your pretty pussy, and tease you with his tongue for hours? Ignoring his angry, achingly hard cock for the sole purpose of making you cum and only making you cum?

But, well, that’s exactly what happened.

“Oh- Kuna! Please-” you mewl, big fat tears dripping down your face at this point. Not knowing whether to move your hips away or buck up into his tongue for more more more-

“What now, brat?” he hums into your dripping cunt, vibrations making you squeal. “Complained that I don’t eat out your pretty lil’ cunt n’ now you’re acting so spoiled?”

Ah, there it was - that offhand little remark that got you into this mess. “B-but,” you whine, stars behind your eyes each time Sukuna laps at your sweet juices. “Didn’t think you’d be so mean-”

All you get is a dark chuckle as Sukuna sucks on your throbbing clit, so sensitive from his relentless abuse. Rolling his tongue over it so teasingly.

Now, this might be his first time eating you out, but he knows exactly what you need - what you crave. And the way your body trembled under his touch told Sukuna everything about how you were brinking so dangerously close to the edge. Too close.

“Please, Kuna! Wan’ cum s’bad.” you cry out, broken little moans of pleasure leaving your swollen lips. Ones which quickly turn into disappointed whines as he pulls away. Again.

“M’not being mean.” he murmurs in your ear, drinking in that adorable little pout on your face.

In the haze of your lust-addled mind, you barely register the way he flips you two to lay on his back. Manhandling you further up the mattress you to be splayed out so sinfully above him - thighs straddling his devastatingly handsome face, hot breath hitting your dripping cunt.

“See?” Sukuna hums, tongue darting out to catch the obscene drip! drip! drip! of your slick. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as lets your sweet juices slide down his throat. “M’the best fucking boyfriend you’ll ever have.” And with that, he’s bullying his tongue through your swollen fold. Stretching you, thrusting in and out of your sloppy hole. Over and over-

“Ngh- feels s’good. Ah fillin’ me up s’good.” you squeal, bucking your hips desperately into his pretty face, broken little whimpers leaving you at each rough push of Sukuna’s tongue.

Why was he so reluctant again? Something about stupid fucking pride? Fuck that, Sukuna would be on his knees every day if it meant he got to taste you like this. Jaw grinding deeper into you as he eats you out like his last meal.

God, you were pretty sure you’d be collapsing onto him if it wasn’t for the strong hand holding your hips. Grip almost bruising as he rocks you harder - more obscenely - on his tongue. The other snakes down to draw rough, frenzied little circles on your swollen clit - as if you weren’t losing your sanity enough

And maybe if you were in a better state of mind you’d have noticed that Sukuna was, too. Eyes half-lidded, slick glistening down his jaw, pussy-drunk and watching awe-struck at the sinful sight of you. Devouring the sight of you the way he was with your cunt.

Fuck, why does this feel so good? He wasn’t even fucking getting off, but the more he made out with your sweet cunt, the more he could feel himself edging closer and closer to the edge. Rock-hard cock angry and leaking precum all over his abs. The great Ryomen Sukuna cumming in his pants from eating his pretty girl out?

Shit, Sukuna thinks deliriously, he was gonna have to make you cum. Soon.

“Kuna- m’close.” you whimper, voice so soft as if you were afraid of being teased again.

“Oh yeah, brat?” he mutters into your folds, “Want it s’badly, huh? Wan’ cum on my tongue?”

The vibrations have your body jerking violently. “Yes yes yes! Can’t take it anymore, wan’ cum. Make me cum, please!” you keen. Fucked-out little whines of Sukuna’s name leaving your mouth as he speeds up his movements.

“Then cum.”

And you are, clenching so lewdly around his soft tongue as you ride out your high on his face. Your juices glossing his lips so prettily. And oh Sukuna’s so entranced by you creaming around his tongue that he almost misses the feel of thick, hot spurts of his cum now pooling on his abs. Fuck, he was going to have to do this very often.

♡ GOJO SATORU - Break him!

Gojo always fucked you like his own personal sextoy. And now, it was only time for you to pay back the favor. Which is why you had him handcuffed to the bed, shirtless and splayed out to absolutely fucking ruin.

“Hah, don’t worry, baby. I’ll be gentle.” Gojo chuckles, tugging on the metal cuffs. Still so cocky despite the way his throbbing dick was leaking all over his sculpted abs, twitching at the mere sound of your voice.

“How nice.” you hum, sliding your pussy across his swollen cock, drenching him in your juices. “Because I won’t be.” And before Gojo can retort, you’re sinking down on his achingly hard cock, squeezing him inside your tight cunt as much as you can.

“Shit shit shit, yes. Your pretty lil’ pussy feel s’amazing wrapped around me. You sure you can handle it all, baby?”

You waste no time. Slamming down on Gojo’s leaking cock in one, abrupt motion, walls burning at the stretch as your ass meets his heavy balls. They twitch against you as you start moving in steady little bounces, sliding his thick cock in and out of your dripping cunt. In out in and out in and-

“Shit, baby. Fuckin’ me s’good ah! Hngh-” Gojo’s sinful moans come in ragged bursts. Fucking up into your pussy in shallow, defiant little thrusts to bully himself deeper and deeper inside you. But not for long - because you’re pushing his hips down, nails digging into the milky skin of his hips.

“Nope.” you hum, grinning at his pout. “Not till you admit defeat, Toru.”

“What defeat? That all you got, baby?” Gojo scoffs.

Stubborn bastard.

“‘What defeat’, huh?” you taunt. Leaning down so your breath fans his pretty face, “Said I couldn’t- handle it-” Each word is punctuated by you slamming down hard onto his swollen cock. Snug cunt massaging his veins as you pull up all the way - till his leaking tip is just kissing your sloppy hole, rocking your hips down hard at a punishing pace. “Look at you now, huh?”

You risk a glance into his eyes and oh- he liked it.

The great Gojo Satoru - revered like a God since birth - liked being treated like a mere fucktoy at your hands. Loved it even - if the way he twitched inside you was anything to go by it. Oh how you enjoyed being the one to bring him down to his knees.

Immediately, your hand reaches to grab the blindfold hanging haphazardly on his neck. “C’mon, Toru.” you warn, breaths ragged at the way his fat tip kissed your cervix. Tugging - hard - Gojo breath hitches in his throat as you whisper, “Jus’ give up.”

His pretty lips part slightly as you speed up your movements. Harsh, purposeful movements just to fuck his soul out.

“God, fuck- hah. Nah, more talk than walk, huh?”

Your hand tightens around the delicate blindfold, relishing in the wet little gurgles that leave him at the pressure around his throat. Balls squeezing painfully as you hypnotize him with your heavenly cunt. Alternating between agonizingly slow strokes and a sloppy, erratic bouncing - edging him closer and closer to the edge. Only to shatter his orgasm and his ego. Fuck.

“I know you want to cum, Toru.” your sweet voice snaps him out of his reverie, and Gojo stares up into your hazy, powerdrunk eyes. “Just admit defeat.”

“No.”

“Toru.” you start, sultry and dangerous. “Admit it.”

He shakes his head desperately, tears peeking out through those long lashes. “No.” he repeats, jaw clenched tight.

A hand wraps around his blindfold, pulling him impossibly closer, not even a hair’s breadth between your sticky bodies. “Admit defeat, Toru.” your lips ghosting his, nipping at his bottom lip. “Admit defeat, n’ I’ll make your cock cum hard enough to see stars.”

And finally, “I hah- a-admit defeat.”

“Louder.”

“I was wrong! Was wrong, m’girl. Lemme cum please lemme cum-”

Throwing his head back, Gojo’s hips buck wildly into yours as you let him bully his dick into you with reckless abandon. Over and over- Using you just as much as you were using him. Not even an ounce of the God he was raised to be.

And oh does Gojo see stars - and you do too. Because with a strangled gasp of your name, he’s painting your snug cunt white with thick, hot ropes of his cum.

Fucking his seed deeper and deeper, he fucks you through your high. Dazed blue eyes widening at the way your tight pussy was so overfilled, sticky seed dribbling out of you. The sight of you creaming around his cock has his balls twitching exhaustedly. Fuck it was all too much. Flimsy handcuffs shattering with one pull, Gojo mutters raggedly, words sending shivers down your spine, “My turn, baby.”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

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foxy-eva · 3 days

Text

Date? Date!

Summary: Reader asks Spencer if he wants a date (the food item). Miscommunication ensues.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader

Category: Fluff

Content Warnings: food mentions, miscommunication, awkwardness

Word count: 700

Masterlist

Early into your career at the FBI you learned how important it was to take good care of yourself. Long and irregular work hours made it difficult to nourish your body, so you made it a habit to always pack some healthy snacks.

Recently you discovered your love for dates - a fruit packed with fiber and potassium while satiating your sweet tooth.

You grabbed a small container from your bag while your eyes landed on your favorite coworker. Months ago you noticed that his main source of energy was coffee and refined sugar, so without thinking too much about it, you decided to offer him an alternative.

“Date?” You asked once Spencer found your eyes.

“Wh…what?” He muttered. “You’re asking me… just like that?”

His reaction was a little confusing but it wasn't the first time that the brilliant Dr. Spencer Reid left you a bit puzzled.

"Yeah, of course! I think it’ll be good for you!” You chirped to encourage him.

“You think?” His mouth stayed agape after those words made it past his lips.

You raised your eyebrows at him and withdrew your offer, “You obviously don’t have to. You can just say no.”

“No, no, it’s not that! I just.. I have never been… I mean… I have never really… had a date?” He muttered.

“Really? That's hard to believe.” You couldn't hide the surprised tone in your voice. Dates were pretty popular, you had never met anyone who hadn’t tried one.

“It’s true…,” he mumbled.

“Maybe it’s time for you to try it!”

"I... have thought about it. A lot actually." Spencer whispered while his eyes dropped to the floor. "With you specifically"

At this point you definitely couldn't hide your confusion anymore. You took one date out of the plastic container to look at it before you said, "You have thought about eating dates with me?"

When your eyes met his again you noticed the color draining from his face. The already pale doctor suddenly looked like he had seen a ghost.

“You uhm… you… of course… you were talking about dates,” he stammered.

“Yes? What were you tal–” You stopped mid sentence when you realized.

Oh.

Spencer must have thought you were asking him out.

Now his reaction made a lot more sense.

Before you could say anything, Spencer quickly got up to leave the room. You could only imagine how embarrassed he must have been right then. Your heart began aching at the thought of hurting the person you cared so deeply about.

The truth was that you were hoping for him to ask you out for months now. It was hard to tell if he actually liked you too, so you never had the courage to ask him yourself.

It seemed like the cat was out of the bag now and it was your chance to finally ask him out for real.

“Spencer!” You called out his name as you ran after him. “Wait, please!”

To your surprise he slowed down, coming to a halt right before he reached the elevators.

“I just want to go catch some air,” he explained with a fake smile on his face.

“Please don’t be embarrassed,” you said with a soft voice. “It was just a little misunderstanding.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. It’s fine, really!” He lied while pressing the button of the elevators.

“It’s true that I was just offering you a date, but…” you paused for a moment, noticing his eyes getting bigger.

You almost got lost in the warm amber that were his irises. It was hard to actually speak the words you so clearly wanted to say. But you knew it was now or never.

“... But I would really like to go out with you. On an actual date,” you confessed.

The features of Spencer's face suddenly softened and it seemed like relief washed over him.

“You do?” He wanted to make sure.

“Yeah, I really do,” you confirmed.

A wide smile appeared on his face. “I would really like that, too. Maybe we could go out for dinner someday.”

“Dinner sounds a lot better than just eating dates together,” you laughed.

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

Taglist: @nomajdetective @reidsbookclub @gspenc @samuel-de-champagne-problems @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @malindacath @reidselle @alexxavicry @frickin-bats @spencersprettyslut @sebs-oxygen @happymangospot @cynbx @hotchandspencearedilfs @emiliaserpe @thenerdthatwrites @velvetthunder93 @saturnstringz @missabsey @guacam011y @hugyourlungs @reiderwriter @enamoradax @hales-17 @cham9ions @loaksulluyswife @ecneremili @xserenax-13 @grumpyy-bearr @luredwithpretzels @castiels-majestic-wings @super-nerd22 @pleasantwitchgarden @yeonalie @r-3dlips @evvy96 @torigorie @meyaareads @luvdella @luvley2k @bunnylovesani

#spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #doctor spencer reid #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fluff

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ellecdc · 3 days

Text

James and Sirius and Remus and Lily and *takes a dramatic breath* you?

this one's for you @enamoredwithbella, thanks for sorting this idea out with me @unstablereader

poly!Marauders + Lily x shy!reader who is so smitten with them

CW: fem!reader, reader has hair long enough to be played with, reader is in Hufflepuff, swearing, consent because it's sexy AF

This was obviously a bad idea.

You’re not even sure how your friends managed to convince you to attend the Gryffindor party, but you swore to every deity it would never happen again.

There were too many people (most of whom you’d never spoken to before), it was too loud (songs you didn’t particularly care for), and the fifteenth time someone bumped into you nearly sent you over the edge.

“Whoa there, sweetheart.” A low voice commented as an arm quickly righted you from your nearly horizontal position. “Y’alright?”

You looked up to see the face of none other than Gryffindor quidditch captain James Potter beaming down at you.

You were ashamed of yourself for the way that smile made you feel.

“Erm, yup! Thanks.” You squeaked, quickly freeing yourself from James’ grasp so fast that you nearly knocked someone else over in your attempt at creating distance between you and the Headboy.

It wasn’t that you didn’t like James. On the contrary; you were rather smitten with him.

Him and his partners - which was nothing short of dense in simple terms.

But you couldn’t help the way you blushed when he held the doors open for you as you walked into classes, or the friendly smile and wave he’d shoot at you when he saw you on Prefect rounds.

You sort of wished he’d stop being so bloody nice to you; maybe then you’d be able to get over this crush that was never going to amount to anything.

But James was taken; three times over.

And what a sodding group they were.

Heart Throb of Hogwarts™ Sirius Black in his effortless style, his devil may care attitude, and his insatiable flirting. Being noticed by Sirius felt like your favourite rockstar singing a song written just for you.

And don’t even get you started on the enigma that is Remus Lupin; the Cassanova of Gryffindor tower. Everyone in your year (and likely the years below you) had at some point or another crushed hard on the quiet Marauder; but it really couldn’t be helped. He was tall, he was handsome, he was kind, and though he was far more quiet than his counterparts, the quips he shared with you never ceased to reduce you to a fit of laughter.

And gods, was Lily Evans ever beautiful. She was the total package; she was funny, outgoing, smart, and stunning. Looking at her even now with her long auburn hair as she threw her head back in laughter; so open and care free in her actions. You weren’t sure if you wanted to be her or being underneath-

No.

No. That was not a nice thing to think about someone who was in a committed relationship.

You let out a sigh as you zoned back into the fact that James still had one of his hands on your elbow and was smiling curiously at you.

“Thanks for the save! I really owe you one.” You chuckled awkwardly and nearly took out one of the Prewett twins in your haste to leave Potter’s vicinity.

Unfortunately, trouble seemed to be following you.

And by trouble, you meant Sirius Black.

“Damn, Hufflepuff!” He cheered as he moved a sultry gaze up and down your body appreciatively. “Give us a spin, dollface.”

You felt all the blood in your body migrate to your cheeks as you fought to keep your mouth from falling open.

Lily, the beautiful angel (or the evil temptress, depending on how you looked at it), swatted at Sirius from her perch on the arm of the chair her boyfriend was currently occupying.

“Down boy; you’re going to scare her away.” She teased with a smirk as she winked at you.

You felt momentarily grateful for her.

And then she spoke again.

“Then none of us will get to look at her.”

Fucking Helga, was it hot in here? They needed to open more windows; preferably one you could launch yourself out of right now, thank you very much.

“That’d be such a shame, really. Sorry doll, you don’t gotta spin - no one else here deserves to appreciate such a view.”

“Okay.” You squeaked and turned in search of your friends.

You know what? Fuck your friends; you were leaving with or without them.

They weren’t….flirting with you, were they?

Surely not.

Of course not.

What a ridiculous thing to think.

But…it certainly felt like they were flirting with you.

Maybe one more glance?

Just as you were about to approach the portrait hole, you turned for one more look at the objects of your affection and your current tormentors and - yup, sure enough - Sirius, Lily, and now James were all standing there smiling at you.

They were watching you leave?!

Okay time to go, that is enough nonsense for one day.

You spun and collided with something tall and solid which thankfully caught your arms as you all but ricocheted off of them.

“Hey there, dove. Where’re you headed in such a hurry?”

Please for the love of gods, don’t tell me…

But of course, you looked up to see the face of one Remus Fucking Lupin smirking down at you.

“You lot are everywhere.” You whispered in awe. The bastard only chuckled in response.

“Come on you guys! We’re going to start a game of truth or dare!” Lily called over to…you (?) and Remus.

“Well, we wouldn’t want to miss that, would we?” Remus murmured lowly into your ear as he steered you towards the growing circle congregating around the various chairs and sofas littering the common room.

And listen, you’re not particularly proud that you were so placid in Remus’ man handling you.

But in your defence…

In your defence, Remus was man handling you.

And to your absolute horror, he plopped you down beside Lily on a large chair that was not quite large enough for two people.

You tried to swallow your heart back down which was attempting to escape via your mouth as you became hyper focused on the fact that Lily sodding Evans was pushed up against you none too casually and- Merlin’s tits, was she playing with your hair!?

You pretended to pay attention as a few rounds passed by; your friend being dared to give you a lap dance being the most brazen thing to have taken place.

Until it got to the Marauders.

Marlene dared Sirius to strip down to his boxers for a whole round which he was all but too eager to do, apparently. Meaning he got to ask the next person.

“Moony!”

Remus smiled down at his lap before he looked over at one of his boyfriend’s mischievously.

“I dare you to kiss the prettiest girl here.”

You’re not necessarily proud of the way your heart plummeted at that; this is what you had been telling yourself all night. They were taken.

No matter if they complimented you.

No matter if they caught you as you fell.

No matter if they snuggled up to you on a chair designed for one.

No matter if one of them made you feel like you leaving the party early would have been truly devastating.

No matter.

“That’s impossible; there’s two of them.” Remus said quickly, causing your heart to ache for Lily.

Who even says that when their girlfriend is sitting right here!?

You kept your head down as the party all ooooh’ed and aawwwweee’d.

James let out a funny high pitched laugh as if he were an over excited kid on Christmas morning. “Guess you’ll have to kiss them both then.”

You really should have left when you had the chance; you weren’t sure you could watch.

It was their business if they wanted to include another, but that didn’t mean you had to like it.

“Or they can kiss each other; I think I’d enjoy that just as much.”

“Sounds good to me.” Lily said as she stood; the space she once inhabited felt cold and vacant without her.

“Well? Come on then?” She said as she grabbed your arm.

“What?”

“Come with me.” She said again, wiggling your arm within your grasp, and who were you to deny her, really?

Like a well trained dog you followed her obediently over to where Remus sat before she all but shoved you into his lap.

“You seem like the fidgety type; maybe Rem can help with that, hm?” She said as she shot a wink at Remus over your shoulder.

His arms wrapped possessively around your waist as he rested his chin on the junction between your neck and shoulder.

“Is it okay if she kisses you, pretty girl?”

You had no time to be absolutely horrified at the pathetic little keening sound that escaped your lips as you looked up at the red-head now towering over you.

“What do you say, gorgeous?” And though her emerald eyes did shine with some mischief, you could see she was earnest; this was your choice.

“Okay.” You whispered barely loud enough for you to hear yourself over the hammering of your heart.

“Yeah?” She whispered as she knelt in front of you.

“Yeah.” You agreed.

And you only got to see the soft, hopeful smile that adorned her lips for but a moment before her hands were on either side of your face and she was pressing her soft lips to yours.

It could have been hours or centuries but it was also all too soon before she was pulling away from you; a proud smile on her lips though her cheeks were a similar colour to her hair.

You became aware of the hooting and hollering going on around you as Remus’ chest began to vibrate in laughter.

“Beautiful.” He murmured - likely more to himself than to you, but you heard it all the same.

“Do I get a turn?!” James shouted before Sirius roughly grabbed him by the waist and planted him down on his lap.

“Not before me, Jamie.” He snickered as he shot you a wink.

The audacity of a man to still be so confident sitting in nothing but his boxers.

You tried to hide behind your hands though it was all for naught as Remus made a theatrical cooing sound and pulled you further into his lap until you were all but cradled in his arms.

“Maybe without an audience next time, hm?” He asked you as he brushed some hairs away from your forehead.

Not trusting yourself to speak (or to even make direct eye contact with the bloke currently cuddling you in your lap), you nodded with your face still hidden.

“Way to go babe.” James said as Lily went to join the two boys on their loveseat. “You were so good, we’ll even get a next time!”

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nereidprinc3ss · 23 hours

Text

strange perfections

in which spencer reid and fem!reader meet by accident at a coffee shop. and then they keep meeting there. they've really got to stop meeting like this. (no, seriously. hotch is pissed.) / do you believe me now? bonus chapter!

fluff! warnings/tags: meet cute:) some dark humor, romantically inexperienced reader, spencer reid graduated from caltech, mit, and the derek morgan school of rizz a/n: this can absolutely be read as a standalone BUT it was written as a prologue for my series do you believe me now? to explain how spencer and r met! completely optional, if you're only here for the smut no worries! reading this bonus chapter might make the next chapter better though as it contains discussions of how they met:) anyway, I LOVE YOU!! let me know if you like this silly little random thing! kisses

The café door opens again. A blustery wind raises goosebumps on your arms and makes your bones ache again. You look up at the latest intruder—a hobbling elderly man in a newsboy cap and a knit red scarf.

Stupid scarf, you think.

Stupid door.

Stupid wind.

Your mug is empty, and the table you’re sitting at is sort of sticky and rickety, and there are so many papers in front of you that you wonder why the hell you thought it’d be a good idea to print the PDF out and annotate it that way instead of just doing it on your laptop like a normal person in the 21st century. Nothing is going right today. It’s the third café you’ve tried in the past few weeks as you attempt to find some place that feels homey, lucky, but this one just feels… inconvenient.

You look at the stack of papers and sigh.

Stupid Lord Byron.

Stupid cafe.

Usually, cafés are relatively quiet and peaceful—a refuge for the overworked to bask in the luxury of quiet jazz and the smell of dark roast as they continue to overwork themselves. This particular establishment, however, today hosts a group of teenagers—presumably playing hooky—who have commandeered a big booth in the back and keep walking right past your table because apparently they couldn’t have just ordered their drinks at once and they all have to do it separately and loudly.

One of them has an incredibly irritating, gratingly pubescent laugh, and they think everything is hilarious. This whole situation is unbearable.

Just as you’re gearing up to go, of course the fucking door opens again. This time, it’s accompanied by a particularly strong gust.

Strong enough that Lord Byron doesn’t stand a chance.

Your printed copy of his works blows off the table, at first page by painstakingly annotated page and then before you can even process it, all at once.

Yeah. This is definitely not your lucky café.

As you curse and go to stand up, you run into one of those dumb kids. His huge ceramic mug goes flying, careening against the edge of your table and completely splattering you and all your stuff in 16 liquid ounces of scalding espresso and milk.

It’s silent for a second, save for a few drips from the puddle on your table to the floor, before the kid is apologizing profusely and turning red as a tomato. You can’t even respond—you look down at your ruined favorite sweater, and then around at the pages of Byron littered with color-coded sticky notes, overflowing with angry and purposeful red ink that you spent so much time on, scattered all over the floor.

Eventually the boy catches on that you’re not going to forgive him and he skitters away, back to his friends, who whisper and giggle profusely. Only a few of them get up to start gathering the fallen pages with you. Several other patrons end up helping as well, so the sheets of paper are gathered and returned into your sticky hands fairly quickly. You thank each person without looking up as they hand you their respective stack. All you want is to get out of here.

“Here—I’m really sorry about this,” someone says—a tenor-ish male voice, distinctly sympathetic as he holds out a rather larger stack of papers than anyone else had bothered to pick up.

“I’ll live,” you sigh, straightening up. “But thank… you.”

The man standing in front of you is the kind of man who makes you want to untuck your hair from its usual spot behind your ears, and to stand up straighter, and to try and not stare even though you want his attention. He’s gloriously beautiful in a way that repels and attracts you. He’s the type of man who wouldn’t have given you the time of day in high school and probably wouldn’t now. Instantly you feel both insecure and reduced to a former version of you who would simper and fawn over boys who wanted nothing to do with her. You feel like going to the other side of the café and sitting in the best light and staring out the window poetically and hoping he’s looking at you.

“On the one hand, I feel bad for being the person who opened the door and let the wind in. On the other… I feel compelled to say at least they’re not covered in coffee like the rest of your table is?”

You laugh vacantly, a second too late, positively coveting the awkward smile on his angular face. Then you make eye contact, and his eyes are so the opposite of angular—they’re huge and inviting and the warmest golden-brown you’ve ever seen, and they’re looking right back at you—and you have to look down. Fuck. You hate when you do that.

Think of something normal to say!

“Yeah, true. Now I just have to reorder 264 pages. That… that don’t have page numbers.”

You shuffle through the papers. They are hopelessly scrambled. Your heart sinks just a bit.

“Um… I might actually be able to help with that, if you want?”

You frown, glancing up. What kind of sex trafficking ploy is this?

“That’s okay. Might be easier with just one person.”

He laughs—it’s similarly awkward, similarly endearing.

“Do you mind letting me just… try? It’ll only take a minute.”

Only take a minute? Is this beautiful man deranged? Why are the hot ones always crazy?

But, perhaps because you’re a pushover who can’t stand up to people, much less beautiful people, much less beautiful men who are paying you undue attention, you find yourself giving in. You hold the stack out.

“Sure. Give it your best shot. I’ll be impressed if you can even figure out what page one is.”

He’s already flipping through the papers with a drawn brow, walking away with them, and barely looking over his shoulder as he mutters, “I have Byron memorized. It shouldn’t be too difficult.”

You follow him, because hello, he has all your annotations. He’s definitely insane, you think, as he sits down at a table and starts rapidly sorting the sheets into separate piles.

All you can do is stand awkwardly behind him as he stacks papers seemingly at random, barely glancing at them before deciding where they go.

Maybe a minute, maybe a few go by, each of which have you progressively more flabbergasted, before he’s tapping the edges of a stack of paper on the table and standing, handing them to you with his lips pressed into a thin pleasant line. There’s almost a glow about him—like he couldn’t be more in his comfort zone.

“There you go. Should be in order now.” You sport a frown bordering on a grimace as you take the stack and flip through it a bit. Sure enough, it seems that everything is in order. You keep looking between the man in front of you and the papers, incredulous as you wait for something to be in the wrong spot.

“How did you do that?”

His cheeks turn slightly pink.

“I know Byron really well. I know how each passage ends and begins so I put them together like puzzle pieces.”

“How did you read that fast?”

“Uh. I’m a speed-reader?”

You scoff, taking another look through the stack.

“I think that may be underselling it.” A thought occurs to you as you’re grazing over one of your longer annotations—full of expletives and strong opinions. “Oh, god. You didn’t… you didn’t read my notes?”

The man’s eyebrows raise as if he was waiting for you to mention that and he smiles like he doesn’t quite know how to break it to you gently.

“Maybe a few,” he eventually decides, laughing under his breath. “I appreciated the commentary on his relationship with Augusta. It was… colorful.”

Heat rises in your cheeks as you mumble.

“Yeah, I had a hard time appreciating the romantic poems. They’re less cute when there’s like a fifty percent chance he’s writing about his sister.”

“Half sister,” he corrects. You give him a look.

“Does that make it better?”

“… no,” he realizes. “Not even a little bit.”

You laugh, relieved that his face looks as warm as yours feels.

“Well… thank you, for the help,” you say after a silent second.

“Of course. Sorry, again. I, um—I hope your day gets better?”

“Yeah, well. I feel like statistically it has to, right? It’s kind of a low bar.”

He smiles, a perfect, perfect smile, and gives you a little wave as he leaves. Without coffee. Checking the clock on the wall, you realize it’s approaching one in the afternoon. If he’d been here on his lunch break, he sacrificed it to organize your stupid Byron texts. You smile to yourself.

He was totally in love with me.

And he can’t prove me wrong because I’ll probably never see him again.

All things considered—this coffee shop does seem pretty lucky. Maybe you’ll stick with it for a while.

The next time you see the mysterious sexy speed reader is four days later—though you’ve been here every day since. He catches your eye right as he walks in, and his brows jump in pleasant recognition. You smile. He smiles back, before going up to the counter and ordering a coffee with a ludicrous amount of sugar in it.

I should take note for when I make him his coffee in the mornings, you think to yourself, and then you snort at your own delusions, shaking your head at your book. Obviously you’re not that divorced from reality, but you’ll entertain the fantasy forever until one of you stops showing up to this café.

What you’re absolutely not expecting is for him to walk up to your table with his to-go cup.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi!”

Jesus. Tone it down, girl scout.

He gestures to your stack of papers: now secured in a three ring binder. The cup says Spencer.

Spencer. Spencer.

It feels important.

“I see you’ve upgraded.”

“Yes! Yes, I did,” you laugh self-consciously, still struggling to meet his eyes. “Thank you for the help the other day. I would still be sorting through all of this if it weren’t for that, so… yeah. Thanks.”

“Of course! I’m glad I could be of use.”

“Spence!” Someone calls from the cafe door. You both look up to see a stunning blonde beckoning him away.

Ah. Naturally. The girlfriend who is one trillion times prettier than you.

Spence.

Reality sets in.

“Coming!” He replies, with all the eager compliance of a child, before turning back to you. “Um… well… I’ll see you?”

It’s an awkward way to say goodbye to a stranger, but you suddenly don’t care enough to dwell. Instead you nod once, less enthusiastic now that you know he has a 10 waiting for him on the sidewalk.

“I am a creature of habit.”

Another wave as he walks away.

The two disappear from the doorway, but the perpetual breeze seems to carry a snatched bit of conversation your way.

“Who was that?”

“Uh… I don’t actually know.”

Yeah. Reality definitely sets in.

Over the next few days, you break your café streak. Life is busy. There’s not always time to artfully ponder Romantic poetry and drink a six dollar coffee while waiting around for certain people to show up.

Okay, so… maybe it has more to do with him than you’re letting on. But you’re not going to do that thing you do again, where you become limerently obsessed with a man you don’t know and who is way out of your league just because you can’t form an actual attachment to anyone to save your life. Besides, you remind yourself; we probably wouldn’t be compatible anyway. He’s probably a huge loser. Or secretly a douche. Or chews with his mouth open. Obviously nobody that attractive can also have a good personality.

Not to mention he has a girlfriend. That should put you off, too.

But you hadn’t been lying when you’d proclaimed to be a creature of habit—you return to the café once you feel sufficiently detached from this Spencer character.

He’s there. Of course he’s there. Why had you been expecting for him to not be there? It’s not like he was a figment of your imagination.

This time he’s accompanied by a different blonde woman—a bespectacled blonde with a big floral headband and a patterned dress and a red cardigan and tights and heels that look self-injurious. She’s quite eye-catching; you want to keep looking at her, but you seem to draw her attention, too. Her big eyes widen minutely and briefly you wonder if you’re supposed to know her, but certainly you’d remember meeting a person like that. She doesn’t seem easily forgettable. Both of you look to Spencer at the same time, who’s looking between you with an almost panicked expression.

“Oh! Th—” the woman whispers, cutting herself off when she realizes how loud she’s being in the otherwise silent establishment. “Ah! Okay, right. Never mind.”

Spencer sighs. You want to laugh, but you’re baffled by the whole thing. So you go back to reading.

Ten minutes later, they draw your attention once more.

“Go, go ahead! It’s more problematic for you to be late than me. I’ll be like, thirty seconds tops.”

You don’t look up as Spencer leaves the café—but are you supposed to gather that these two eccentric individuals are coworkers? And what of the first blonde woman, who you’d presumed to be his girlfriend? Where is she?

While you’re wondering all of this, the new blonde teeters her way over to your table.

“Hi!” She says pleasantly, waving a purple-tipped hand and wearing the biggest grin.

“Uh… hi?”

“I’m Penelope. You’ve met my friend Spencer. He just left.”

“Oh—sort of,” you smile weakly, closing your book. “Not formally. I didn’t know his name.”

That’s a lie, but maybe feigning non-chalance will make it real.

“Well, I just wanted to come over and say I love your bag. And your jewelry and your coat. I love your whole look. I bet you’re a really cool person.”

“Um—thank you!” You perk up, smiling genuinely now. The compliment warms you—you didn’t think your look was all that interesting today. “You too. I love your outfit.”

“Great! You’re—you’re great. This is good information. Um… just out of, like, sheer curiosity, could I get your name, age, and occupation? Oh—and your zodiac sign?”

What kind of convoluted sex trafficking ploy—

“Garcia!”

Spencer is at the doorway again, looking adorably miffed.

Adorable? Get a grip.

“Wh—I’m just making a new friend! Is friendship illegal, now?”

“This is the kind of friend-making that gets you a restraining order,” he urges.

You look up at Penelope Garcia, enamored by their whole dynamic. They clearly care for each other, despite the squabbling. What kind of job do they have where they talk to each other like this?

“It’s fine,” you smile, introducing yourself to her.

“That is such a good name!” She says, and you’re getting the sense she’s kind of always this enthusiastic. “So now we know each other’s names—we should probably definitely be friends, right?”

“Yeah! Um, definitely!”

“Yes? Oh my god! I love this! Okay, um—we work at Quantico, so, we’re like, 10 minutes away—but this is better than the coffee shop that’s closest to the building, so we come here all the time. Usually it’s just us and five grouchy old men, which makes this is really exciting.”

“Quantico… that’s the FBI academy, right?”

“Other stuff, too,” she nods, still smiley.

Oh! Cool. So they’re FBI agents.

So that’s cool.

You’re cool with that.

Her phone starts ringing—she locks eyes with Spencer.

“Hotch?”

“Ooh, we are in trouble,” Penelope sing-songs, leaning down to write her number on your notebook without asking. Not that you mind, of course. She adds a little heart and a smiley face next to her name before capping your pen and toddling away. “Bye, new friend!” She calls over her shoulder, waving goodbye with just her fingers.

“Bye,” you manage, though it’s probably too quiet.

Spencer flattens his mouth into an approximation of a smile and waves again.

You accidentally find yourself mirroring his goodbye, facial expression and all. Fuck. You hope he doesn’t notice. You hope he doesn’t read into it.

Nah. Boys are dumb.

You text Penelope later that afternoon—a simple greeting so that she can save your number—and then you forget about it.

It’s not until five days go by without sign of any of them—the two blondes, Spencer, this mysterious and foreboding Hotch figure—that you start to seriously question your sanity. Did they drop off the face of the planet, or what?

But of course, just as you’re sitting at your usual table, Spencer walks in. Alone.

He sees you immediately, but instead of the wave you’d come to expect, he immediately flushes, looks down at his shoes and hurries into the small lunch-rush line.

Weird.

You corner him at the coffee bar, where he’s adding more sugar to his coffee. How are his teeth so nice if he does this to himself every single day?

“Hey,” you say, affecting casual confidence as you bus your empty mug. “… Spencer, right?”

It’s comical how you’re pretending you haven’t turned that name over and looked at it from every angle hundreds of times since the first time you heard it.

He nods, only glancing up at you as he stirs. To your surprise, he knows your name, too. When you give him an odd look, he smiles almost apologetically, finally looking at your face for longer than half a second.

“I heard you introducing yourself to Penelope. Sorry if that’s…”

“No, no! Is she around, today? I texted her last week, but she never responded...”

“Today is operating system update day, so I don’t even really have a way of knowing if she’s alive in her office.” It’s funny to him, but you just smile, baffled. He notices your silence and catches on, scrambling to explain himself. “She’s our tech analyst. There are 243 computers in our building and she has to update them all remotely, which requires getting every agent to agree to not touch their computer at the same time for an hour or so.”

“Oh… does the FBI not have, like… an IT guy, or something?”

He laughs again—the way his eyes crinkle when he does it makes you a little breathless.

“You should say that to her. I think you would become her favorite person.”

It’s hard not to smile when he’s smiling because of you—however indirectly that may be. Quickly you realize you’ve both been standing in front of the coffee bar for too long.

“Alright, well… tell her good luck, for me?”

“I would, but I’ve been kicked out for an hour while she does the updates.”

Your brow furrows and you laugh.

“From the whole building? You just can’t keep your hands off your computer for an hour?”

“Not if I want to do my job, no. And I am kind of obsessive about my job. I’ve been the reason she had to start the whole process over again before and I’d rather not be that person again.”

You say it before you can think too hard.

“Well, if you have an hour to kill… there’s an open seat at my table? No pressure, obviously.”

And that was the first of thousands of hours you would come to spend with Spencer Reid.

After that, it sort of becomes a regular thing. He comes almost every day—except for occasional week or so long stretches, which you have discovered are a part of his absolutely fucking insane job—and sits with you, sometimes with Penelope, once with the other blonde, JJ, who you’ve since deduced is not his girlfriend, most often alone. Usually he can’t spare more than ten minutes, but he begins pushing it, little by little, until thirty minutes go by and you think surely his boss (the great and all-powerful Hotchner) must be beginning to notice.

One day, during your usual lunchtime rendezvous, his phone rings. He talks right on through it, like it’s not happening.

It ceases. And then it starts again.

Your head drops to your shoulder, something like pity or regret softening your features. He catches your eye and melts slightly, mid-sentence—like he knows you’re about to tell him to be responsible.

“Do you think you should…”

His hands drop from where they’d been enthusiastically positioned mid-air.

“They’ll be fine if I’m late from lunch one time. I’m usually more punctual than any of them.”

You roll your lip between your teeth—it’s not that you want to tell him to go; in fact, those delusions you’ve been harboring about your future life together are only getting worse with each inexplicable minute he entertains your company.

But his job is important.

“What if you have a case?”

“Then I would have gotten more calls from more people by now.”

Your head tips back as you laugh lightly at his unwavering insistence.

“I’m flattered that you so enjoy my company that much. But I can’t with good conscience keep taking up your work hours like this.”

As the laughter fades, he just… watches you, lips slightly parted, eyes intense but not entirely present.

“You’re probably right,” he finally breathes. “Maybe… you should start taking up my other hours, instead?”

Spencer Reid, you unexpected charmer.

You balk.

“Like… we would hang out? At a different time of day? Not here?”

“Those are the basic premises, yes,” he chuckles, nodding affably. “I’ve never actually seen you anywhere else. For all I know you could be a ghost eternally tethered to this building.”

“Where would this hanging out take place?”

Fuck, you’re totally being weird. His brow knits.

“I don’t know. Where else do people hang out?”

He’s not genuinely asking you, he’s gently turning you in the right direction. You charge forward blindly.

“Restaurants.”

There’s that pretty smile of his again, the one that makes all the thoughts drain from your head like cold bathwater. Though, there’s a sort of mischievous edge to it now that you haven't seen before.

“That’s certainly an option. If I asked you to hang out with me at a restaurant... would you say yes?”

You look down. God, your face feels warm.

“Would you be asking me out on a date? In this hypothetical scenario that we’ve constructed, I mean.”

Spencer seems to think about it for a moment, which fills you with unexpected panic. When you look back up anxiously, he has the same smile on his face, but his eyes are a little softer now.

“I would.”

More panic sets in—just a bit. But you don’t let what is undoubtedly a tidal wave of anxiety break through the emotional guard-dam. Keep it together. This is a good thing. This is what you wanted.

Unfortunately, you are perhaps more transparent than you’d realized. Spencer begins to look slightly worried, leaning forward in his chair.

“You don’t have to say yes. I know we don’t know each other very well, I just—”

“No!” You find yourself assuring him, though you curse yourself because you kind of want to know what he was going to say. “I would say yes. I’ve just, um—god,” you laugh gustily, self-consciously. “Sorry I’m being so weird. I’m out of my depth. Nobody’s asked me on a date before. I don’t really know the etiquette.”

Spencer chuckles.

“You’re doing great. Don’t worry about it.”

Not, what?

Not, you’ve never been on a date before?

Not, that’s crazy, or that’s weird, or how have you gone your whole life without being asked out?

With the implication being, you’re odd. Different. Maybe not in a good way.

He says none of that.

“But I should probably actually ask you, huh?” His cheeks turn pink as his laughter is redirected inwards.

“Sounds like a good first step.”

Spencer is still smiling as he says your name and it sounds so good from his mouth. It makes you sound so real.

“Will you go on a date with me?”

Butterflies in your stomach doesn't begin to brush what you're experiencing—your entire abdominal cavity is like a Monarch sanctuary.

“I’d love to.”

He seems genuinely relieved as he beams, slumping back in his chair.

“Oh, thank god. I was so nervous you’d say no. I never do that. Thank you for not saying no. Not that you couldn’t have said no—it would have been completely fine and obviously within your rights to—”

His phone rings again. Both of you are relieved that he was interrupted—but admittedly you thought his rambling was super cute.

“I should—”

“You definitely need to go.”

“Yeah,” he agrees with a still-breathless smile. “Um—what’s your number?”

You look around fruitlessly for pen and paper.

“I don’t—”

“Just tell me. I’ll remember.”

He’s so weird.

A breeze hits your skin as he opens the door. You’re already writing your wedding vows in the back of your mind as you watch him go.

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic

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cheriladycl01 · 2 days

Text

They do be comfy tho! - Lando Norris x Pregnant! Reader

Plot: You try hide your pregnancy through Lando's large array of hoodies.

Credit to 4and55 for the GIF

You sat in the bathroom crying your eyes out. You'd been feeling sick recently and didn't think the plane journey all the way to Las Vegas would be a good idea.

So you stayed behind while Lando went racing, you were now looking at the positive test in your hand.

You knew exactly when it was, it was. It was after his first race win in Brazil... you guys weren't as careful as you should have been.

"Fuck" you cried leaning your head against the wall of the bathroom, tears streaming down your face. It wasn't that you didn't want kids, or that you didn't want them with Lando it's just that you both agreed now wasn't the best time where he was in the height of his career.

You didn't know what to do, the only person you could think to call was Oscar's girlfriend Lily who you'd become best friends with ever since you met her at her first race appearance.

You waited while the phone rung, and rung until the line opened.

"Lily?" you sob into the phone but it's silent.

"Lily please, i need you!" you cry a little more.

"Y/N?" a male voice you knew too well answered. It was Oscar.

"Oscar?" you ask.

"Yeah, it's me Lily's just in the bathroom i didn't want it to go to a missed call!" he says before you here Lily ask who it is.

"Please Oscar, just hand me over to her" you say, Oscar could tell you were crying and he wanted to know what was wrong more than anything. He handed over the phone to his girlfriend with a worried look who answers right away.

"Y/N?" she asks with concern in your voice.

"Can you be alone right now, like without Oscar?" you say with labored breaths.

"Yeah, he's just leaving to get ready for FP3, weren't you babe!" she smiles giving him a look that tells him to leave.

Oscar, stops outside the door with a small panic.

What does he tell Lando?

Does he tell Lando?

He really had no idea what to say. Did he tell Lando that his girlfriend just got a call from Lando's girlfriend and he answered and she wa sobbing.

Would this make Lando spiral and have a bad race.

"Y/N please tell me what's happened!" Lily says back in Oscar's driver room.

"I'm pregnant" you sob and Lily's eyes widen.

"Congrats?" Lily says awkwardly and you just sob harder.

"Okay okay I'm sorry! I don't know what to say. How can i help!" she asks.

"I don't know, I think i just needed to tell someone!" you sniffle.

You continue to talk to Lily until she needs to leave to go watch Oscar and you agree you should probably watch Lando.

You walk past your shared room with Lando in your Monaco flat seeing one of his hoodies laying over the chair. You grab it and pull it over.

You spend the rest of the weekends watching shitty romcom's until you get a text from Lando.

Lando: I'm coming home, now

And that sent you into a full on spiral. Did Oscar or Lily talk and tell him, was hen angry at you...

Until he got home you were a nervous wreck having a ball of anxiety in your stomach.

"Baby?" Lando calls as he goes through the front door looking around for you. You were sat on the sofa, curled up in his lavender hoodie from his Quadrant range.

He walks in seeing you sat there, tears in your eyes as your trying not to look at him.

"Baby, look at me tell me why Oscar told me you called Lily in floods of tears... what's happened!" he asks, kneeling down in front of you trying to catch your gaze but you refused to look.

"Baby come on" he sighs. You take his hand, before standing up and walking him to the bathroom and showing him the test.

"Is this what I think it is?" he asks looking between the stick and you. You just nod, no words coming to your mouth.

"Baby, this is amazing! I know timing isn't great but i'll be here for you and them! I promise!" he says pulling you into a tight hug. He spent the whole evening talking to you about everything.

"You aren't leaving me?" you asked with a small sniffle.

"Baby, of course not... is that why you called Lily crying?" he asks with a frown and you nod.

"I was just worried, I know Mclaren have a really good car this year and that you and Oscar are a good team and we are still really young!" you admit and he nods.

"We are, but it's not anything we can't handle together..." he says pulling you in for a kiss, holding your hips before they snake up your body to get to the back of your neck.

"I love you so so much" he sighs leaning his forehead against yours, his eyes open watching you eyes.

"I love you too!" you sigh, all that built up anxiety just leaving and releasing from you.

"I don't think we should tell anyone but family" you say looking down and he frowns, not sure what you mean.

"Your going to stop coming to my races?" he asked, obviously he knew towards the end of your pregnancy you wouldn't be able to do the flight but right now you'd be safe and healthy to fly.

"No of course not! As long as we are on a jet I should be fine, why wouldn't eye?" you ask tilting your head in confusion.

"Well, baby ..." he gulps and you nearly start to laugh wondering where he's going with this.

"In a pregnancy you are growing a whole other human inside of you, so you'll ... you know get bigger?" he says as if its more of a question to you than anything.

"Yes, I'll have a bump" you giggle, placing his hand on your currently flat stomach.

"But you don't want to tell anyone? People will start to find out when they see it honey!" he laughs, rubbing your hips and stomach.

“I’ll just cover up with your hoodies” you say showing Jake how you look now.

“Mmmm my hoodies can only go so far” he laughs.

And that was the truth, you struggled in the heat in the hotter countries and ended up getting too big for even Lando’s hoodies.

Someone on twitter had got a picture of you, at an angle where Landos hand gripping your made the loose hoodie grab around your growing stomach and people started to go wild.

So you guys went to Instagram of course.

landonorris

landonorris: Yes Y/N is pregnant! We are both very happy and she’s currently 7 months along and we are expecting in July and cannot wait to meet our little girl!

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y/user: I love you so much. I wouldn’t want to experience this journey with anyone else! 🧡🫶🏼

mclaren: Papaya Baby incoming 🧡🦁 Congrats Lando!

oscarpiastri: congrats man!

lilyzniemer: she’s such a pretty mumma

-> y/user: stop it!!!! 🫶🏼🧡

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul l @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount @styl1shl1v

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bitchimasnake-sss · 3 days

Note

Imagine telling op guys who has a crush on you, that you want to sleep with them. You just plop down next to them cuddle into them and fall asleep. It's just hem turning red and trying to calm down their thoughts

hehe, this is legit so cute. (tweaked the prompt to be a little more suggestive than just thoughts in the end.)

not a dream ft. the monster trio!

set-up: as anon asked! you happened to utter five simple words, "can i sleep with you?" to the op boys (who have a crush crush on you). now these idiots are contemplating if they'd make it out alive.

warnings: includes nsfw thoughts!! no actual things happen but the guys are thinking very very perverted shit, so, if not comfortable please skip!!!

luffy:

💗 you know luffy. do you think luffy— the guy who clings to everyone, doesn't know the word "personal" and "space", who will probably hug you even if you threatened to punch him— will really mind if you told him you wanted to sleep with him? fuck no. even if you stood in front of him with a "i like you, i wanna sleep with you" in a suggestive way, he would say something along the lines of "awh, i like you too. let's sleep."

💗 but well, this was different. cause he liked you. so when you decided to show up at his door after dinner with a cranky look, he was both confused and intrigued. "what's wrong with ya?" he mumbled as you sat next to him on the bed. "chopper and ussop. ugghhh." you groaned, "they're doing some stupid shit next door and making so much noise. there is no possible way i can sleep there. and im sure nobody else will let me crash with them tonight in their room." luffy would have probably leapt up and gone to join the other two fools had you not sprawled out next to him. you gave him a tired smile, "so, can i sleep with you?" 💗you hadn't even waited for an answer. mindlessly, you draped a hand over his torso and snuggled into his chest. he pulled you towards himself on instinct. this was normal. yeah. hugging a crewate. yeah. totally normal. atleast for him. then why was his heart beating so fast? mouth going dry? why was sweat clinging uncomfortably to his back although he knew the night air was frigid. 💗you shifted and your chest brushed against his. luffy swallowed wantonly as you shifted again. and then one more time. trying to find the most comfortable position, he guessed. mechanically, you pushed yourself further against him. and this motherfucker went as stiff as a washboard. "luffy?" you mumbled against his skin before tracing your eyes upward. from this position, your doe-eyes bore into his, "you don't mind right? it's just really cold, sorry." how could he mind? your soft body was against his. your fingers drummed faint melodies against his back and your hair smelled like some floral scented shampoo. every time you breathed out, the warm air caressed him and goosebumps painted his hands. he felt your peaked chest brush against his again and he almost swallowed his own tongue. "luffy?" you asked again, your voice saccharine. and he vaguely wondered how would the same voice sound if he tore open that flimsy top your were wearing and held your soft skin against his palm. or if he took the courage enough to dip his fingers below the waistband of your pajamas and felt you up. would you say his name like that? 💗 well, fuck. this was the captain had thought so much in his entire life. and it was thoughts about feeling up his crewmate's tits. and as a result of such vigorous thinking, a problem had arose in his pants. he tried to think it away. tried thinking about sea-kings or hideous devil-fruit users. of alvida. or anyone else. he even tried to think of food so that his attention could be diverted. but even the most tastiest of sanji's pudding couldn't take away the throbbing in his cock. and the delicious feeling of your soft skin next to his. as a last resort, he prayed that you wouldn't shift more and feel his dick against you. he prayed you would take his silence as rejection and simply drift off to sleep. but ofcourse, this is a godless land. because you moved again. and when you felt his hand-on against your thigh, you looked up at him. lips caught between your teeth, you looked up at him. blinking up at him almost innocently, you asked, "got a problem, captain?" before he could answer, you pressed forward, "i think i can fix it." on the other side of the ship nami burst into chopper and ussop's room. when she yelled, it probably could be heard over the entire ship, "LET US SLEEP, YOU MORONS. WE HAVE A LONG DAY TOMORROW. GO SLEEP OR I'LL FINE YOU BOTH A MILLION BERRIES PER MINUTE THAT YOU'RE UP." you're not sure if it was chopper or ussop crying in the distance. but oh well, good for you that ussop and chopper are such morons.

zoro:

💚zoro's not even fucking sure how he ended up like this. he's sure it involved some higher-than-tolerable level of alcohol for both the parties involved. and he's sure it must have been your idea that he had drunkenly complied with. "let's sleep together" "okay" what was he thinking? because right now, you were sprawled against his chest. both of you were on his bed. his shirt was off, yours was barely on. a bit of drool peaked out from the corner of your lips. and he found himself quietly rubbing it away with the pad of his thumb, smiling softly to himself. ew?! was he still drunk?? as the realization set in, he pulled his hands back in wicked horror and looked around as if someone had seen him. it was still night. and in the middle of the night, the effects of the cheap booze must have wore off of him and he awoke to you as his bed. on him. 💚"hey." he tried to shake you awake but you just groaned, sinking further into him. he hissed when you buried your face against his bare skin. he whisper-shouted, ignoring the goosebumps on both of your skins, "wake up. go back to your own room, woman." but you didn't shift an inch. instead, you stayed buried against him. 💚he groaned but when his eyes fell back to your face, he couldn't help but fight off the impending blush that crawled up his face. your hair was a mess and your cheek was squished against his chest. you breathed softly and sometimes, your fingers twitched against his skin and you touched him fleetingly. and you were warm. too warm for his liking. he tried to look away but his hand carefully came up to your face. staying there not a moment too long, he dragged it downwards. over your shoulders and over your back. he stopped before he went too far and grabbed your ass, the curve so delicious in his eyes. but he stopped, pulling his hands back to lay on the linen sheets. he was a horny man, not an evil douche. 💚but you must have been hell-bent in proving flaws in his moral-code, because you shifted and your pelvis shifted over his. he bit back a grunt at the movement over the fabric. you were so cozy against him. the way you brushed up against him, the way your hair tickled him. would you like it if he pulled your hair? would you moan? god, what would you sound if you moaned out his name? he was a bad man. thinking all of those things. and he tried to focus on anything but the blood-rush to his dick, really. but the way you started moving against him, almost mechanically. that made all attempts to ignore his boner disappear. his hips moved upwards and he closed his eyes, giving into the friction of you against him. and soft moans fell from his lips. 💚"zoro?" you mumbled sleepily, rubbing your eye. you strained your neck up and he looked down at you, dazed. "you okay, zo?" when he found himself unable to talk and you found a harsh roll of hips under you, you connected the dots. a playful smile tugged on your lips, "need some help?" "no." "fine." you shrugged, clamoring off him, "i should go back to my room. the crew will freak out if they find us like this." "no." he caught your wrist, tugging you towards him, "stay. i could use some help." 💚in the morning, sanji walked into the swordman's room to see if the moron could find you somewhere since you were nowhere to be found on the ship. what he found, instead, was you and him tangled in the sheets. when you and zoro had finally made it to the breakfast table, sanji may/may not have been crying. luffy, ussop and chopper were laughing in the background. nami decided it was a good enough reason to even high-five zoro. it was an awkward breakfast.

sanji:

💙sanji was probably in heaven. yes, that's the only explanation. sure, the ship was en route to alabasta but he was on his way to heaven. because there's no way you had come seeking him out in the middle of the night. you had said, "i can't sleep." "oh?" the cook had wordlessly stepped aside and you took on the opportunity to slip in. he shut the door behind you, "can i help you then, love? want me to cook something?" "i would have really not bothered you but i don't know who else to ask. nami and vivi are sleeping together and the bed's not big for the three of us." you rambled, "and zoro probably showered five months ago. and luffy, ussop and chopper are passed out in the common room. so... can i sleep with you?" it's a miracle he didn't pass out on hearing those words. it's an even bigger miracle that that was three hours ago and he had still not passed out. now, sanji lay next to you— as stiff as a corpse— while you snored. 💙your body shifted and your hands reached out towards sanji. your palm ran up and down his torso as to check if he was there. and once you had gotten a confirmation, you scooted in his direction and sanji held his breath as if one wayward puff of air will wake you up. vinsmoke sanji was trying. he was trying o maintain his composure, to not pull you into his chest. he was trying not to think about the way your chest will feel against his, the way his fingers will glide over your thighs, the way your hand will fit around his dic— 💙and it was as if you could hear his wretched thoughts. because your hands moved over his torso. gliding up and down. you leaned into his touch, molding your body against his. you might have been having an interesting dream cause he saw your hips gently rocking, your thighs pressed harder and you eyes clenched shut. you buried your head into his chest and the smell of your shampoo seemed to turn him on more. he ignored his weeping dick, decided to pay it no mind. but all of that resolve crumbled when he heard you moan his name into the fabric across his chest. your nails dug into his shoulders and your nose buried as deeply as it could against his skin. 💙 he gently guided his fingers to your thighs. and you shook under his soft touches. his thumb softly brushed over your clothed pussy and bucked towards his hand. he could probably just feel you up and you'd let him— "—shit." sanji quickly brought his hand back, realizing that you were sleeping and out of it. even if your lips chanted his name, he couldn't do the things his mind was convincing him to do. because if he started, he wouldn't stop. 💙so, to get himself rid of such sinful thoughts, he decided to hide in the shower and pump at his hard cock till he was tired. till you crawled out of his head. till your voice stopped ringing in his ears, making his cock impossibly harder. he slowly pushed you away, trying to climb off the bed. but as soon as you felt his warmth disappear, you cracked open an eye, "sanji?" "uh" his face went red, eyes averting, "just going to the washroom. i'd be back." you sat up, "did i go too far?" sanji's mouth hung agape as you pulled him back into bed, "i thought you wanted me to moan your name like that—" "—wh-what?" "i had a dream." you innocently traced your index nail down his torso and brushed it over his sleeping shorts, "think you can help me?" you blinked up at him, "pretty please." 💙 the next morning, the cook of the crew made the worst breakfast possible. wasn't his fault. all he could think about was you and your breathless moans and your eyes as— "this tastes like shit." the swordman argued. "thEN MAKE IT YOURSELF, FREELOADER." "might as well if you're gonna cook so bad." "—i think it tastes fine." nami sighed, "if i knew you getting some would make you a terrible cook, i would have let (yn) sleep with me and vivi." and the entire ship choked on their (terrible) breakfast.

a/n: i tweaked the prompt a bit (as i was getting stuck with the original ask), but i hope this was good enough anon!! as always, thanks for reading and send in req that you might have <3 (tagging: @bokutosbiceps cause i know you love luffy)

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markiemelon · 3 days

Note

hiii, can you do something with jaemin? like a college friends to lovers?

breakfast

genre. fluff, crack 🍞

pairings. jaemin x gn!reader

falling asleep at your friend!jaemin’s place wasn’t your intention.. yet, there you were, knocked out on the couch. you eventually woke up, disoriented and sore, while the smell of burnt toast polluted the air. on the other side of the open room, jaemin stood behind the kitchen counter, preoccupied with scraping char off the bread slices. he perked his head up once he heard you rustling around. “oh. you’re up.”

“what time is it?” you yawned, reaching for your phone, only to find it cold and dead.

“it’s like 10 or something—” his tone was casual, and it threw you off.

“jaemin!” you jumped to your feet. “i had a class at 9!” you continued, “i told you to wake me up if i ever fell asleep here again!” you ran to the bathroom, looking for the toothbrush jaemin got you last time.

his expression became one of shame, like a child being scolded by his mother. “i know, but you just looked so peaceful…”

this isn’t the first time this has happened. more often than not, jaemin invites you to hang out after class.. so you usually find yourself leaving with him to walk to his apartment… you just can’t get enough of him.

once you get there, you hope for a productive afternoon, maybe crank out some assignments. but instead, you end up talking to him all night. you’ll eventually glance at the ungodly hour on the clock, and think, "just 5 more minutes. i'll get going in 5 minutes." 5 minutes turns into 5 hours... and next thing you know, the sun is up, you've slept through all your alarms, and you're grabbing your things to rush out.

“i need to go home-” you pat your hands around the couch, looking for your purse, tossing around the blankets and pillows jaemin put on you while you were asleep.

“wait.” he interjected. “when’s your next class?”

“at 1… but i still have to go home and get dressed...” you sighed, slumping onto the stool at the kitchen island.

“you still have plenty of time to eat breakfast...” jaemin said, nudging over a plate of toast that was grilled to the point of no return.

“jaemin…” you laughed. “im not eating that.” you eyed the dish, and a chill went down your spine. “i’ll just have some cereal.” you helped yourself to his cabinets in a search for a more edible alternative.

sitting across from jaemin at the table, you crunched on your cereal while he picked at his burnt toast… his pride wouldn’t let him throw it out. “so do you wanna come over again later?” he waited for you to chew your food before you replied.

“jaemin, be for real.” you set down your spoon. “i can’t keep coming over on weekdays. i lose track of time and fall asleep.. i can’t keep doing that.”

“why not?” he said, mouth full. “why can’t you fall asleep here?”

“i don’t have my stuff here! no skincare, no clothes…” you counted a finger for each point you listed. “and by the time i wake up, im late, and i still have to go home and get ready...”

“well then.. why not just bring stuff to stay the night.” he cleared his throat. “pack your clothes and skincare and whatever… plus, you already have a toothbrush here.”

“do you want me to stay or something?” you took a sip of juice, eyes peeking over the cup.

“i just like having you around...” he picked at the toast some more, but had yet to actually taste it.

you thought for a moment. “yeah sure.” you shrugged, ignoring the way he just made your heart flutter.

“wait really?” he looked up from his plate.

“i mean… i guess it’s not a problem as long as i bring stuff to stay.” you said, getting up from your seat to go wash your bowl in the sink. jaemin followed right behind you and draped his arms over your shoulders, pulling your back into his chest. “then can you bring stuff to stay longer than 1 night?”

jaemin has always been a pretty affectionate friend, so you didn’t think much of the hug… “maybe i could stay until the weekend..”

“just until the weekend?” he squeezed you a little tighter.

but was he always this clingy?

“na jaemin, when did you get so clingy?”

“well these days, i…” he stopped himself.

“these days, you...?” you hummed, tugging on his arms that were still embracing you, urging for him to finish his sentence. you began swaying side to side ever so slightly. “let’s just stay like this for a minute.” he cooed, catching on to your rhythm, rocking in the silence. he really gave the best hugs. after a moment, he disrupted the stillness of the room. “move in with me.”

hearing him say that so bluntly made your heart drop. flustered, you turned around to face him, his arms now resting on your back. “all of a sudden?” you laughed.

“mm.” he nodded his head to agree, looking at you so endearingly. he gradually inched his face closer to yours, and you didn’t mind.

“jaemin.”

“yeah?” he answered, just inches away.

“are you trying to kiss me right now?” you teased, as your gaze wandered from his eyes to his lips.

“are you gonna let me?” he teased back. you couldn’t hold back your smile, and he basically took that as confirmation.

he didn’t have to lean in much more before his lips were touching yours. your eyes fluttered as his hands gently met your cheeks, even tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“what are we doing?” you whispered in between breaths.

“just enjoy it.” he reassured you.

and for some reason, his words really put you at ease. in that moment, you couldn’t help but enjoy it. you reconnected your lips, and let yourself fall more in love with your best friend than you already were.

his smile forced him out of the kiss. “so does this mean we can have breakfast together every morning?”

you scoffed at his remark. “maybe if you learn how to cook first…”

@lovesuhng thanks so much for the request!!!! such a cute idea. hope you like it!!! (reqs always open)

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pathologicalreid · 3 days

Note

Spencer x fem!reader fic based on “Work Song” by Hozier?? Whatever storyline or category you want!!

work song | S.R.

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: general cm violence, near death experience, blood, gunshot wound, hospitals. word count: 1.77k a/n: hozier song request makes my brain go brr. i hope the people of tumblr enjoy this bc i most definitely enjoyed writing it.

boys, when my baby found me

Your hair whipped your face as you spun around through the labyrinth of a warehouse that your team had found themselves in. It seemed like an impossible task, trying to navigate this space, but you had already cleared over half of the space.

A small noise, like a shoe squeaking, caught your attention, causing your ears to rise like an animal hunting for prey. Turning a corner, you had your flashlight and firearm raised, coming face to face with Morgan. The both of you relaxed ever so slightly, no longer ready to pounce.

Ricocheting throughout the warehouse, you heard a deafening gunshot. The sound bounced off of the metal walls of the building, making it almost impossible for you to determine where the sound originated from. Meeting Morgan’s eyes, he nodded his head to the left, signaling for you to go that way while he went right.

You affirmed his tactics, turning slowly and making your way to the left. The rusted building was now so eerily quiet that goosebumps were sprouting across your body, even under your bureau jacket.

Continuing your way down the narrow passageway, you saw movement inside of a room. Sliding your back along the wall, you peeked into the room, seeing two bodies on the ground. You whispered almost imperceptibly into your radio, calling for medical. One of them was the local officer that the BAU had been working the case with.

The other one was Spencer.

You pivoted so that you were entirely in the doorway, facing the UnSub, he raised his gun at you, but you were already pulling the trigger, hitting him square in the forehead. Breathing heavily, you lowered your firearm before scrambling over to Spencer.

I didn’t care much how long I lived, but I swear I thought I dreamed her

In your ear, you could hear Morgan shouting, “Y/N, Reid, sound off, dammit!”

Something needed to happen. You needed to do something, but you had such severe tunnel vision that the only thing you could think about was Spencer.

He was gasping for air on the metal ground of the warehouse, lying in a pool of his own blood. You observed in horror as the red puddle spread with each passing moment.

Launching into action, you tugged your jacket off, stuffing the fabric onto Spencer’s side in an attempt to staunch the bleeding. Even Kevlar vests had an Achilles heel, and the UnSub had managed to strike him precisely where there was a gap in the material. All the while, you were muttering the words, “Stay awake.” Just those two words, over and over again, like a prayer.

You hummed, using one hand to apply pressure to his wound and lifting the other so that you could smooth his hair back. His skin was alarmingly clammy, and you knew that, even with your attempts, he was losing too much blood. “Y/N,” he muttered, sounding like he was using all of his strength to say your name.

Gently, you hushed him, “It’s okay, Spence. Don’t talk, you’re gonna be just fine,” you insisted as his blood soaked through the knees of your jeans. You weren’t sure who you were trying to console at that moment.

“It makes sense-“ he said, being cut off by a cough, sending blood spurting out of his mouth. If his lung was collapsing, there was nothing you’d be able to do. You tried to shush him again, but he had more to say – he almost always did. “That I’d see you while I’m dying.”

Choking on tears, you leaned your face onto your shoulder so that you could wipe them away without moving your hands. “I’m here, I’m really here,” you urged, he wasn’t hallucinating, and he wasn’t dying. Not on your watch. “It’s me, Spence. I’m right here,” you told him carefully.

He opened his mouth again to speak, and you wanted to tell him to save his strength. You also didn’t want to deprive him of his words. “You…” his voice trailed off as he searched for the words, “You’ve always been my favorite dream.”

Sniffling, you shake your head, “I’m not a dream, I’m right here.” You told him, watching carefully as his eyelids grew seemingly heavier, “baby, open your eyes.”

in the low lamplight I was free

His skin was pallid. Even in the dim, orange light of the warehouse, you could see a sickly sheen forming on his skin. His body temperature was dropping, and it was all you could do to not cover his body with yours as you tried to keep him warm. “Spencer, please,” you rasped, urging him to open his eyes.

Your only solace was that his chest was still rising and falling. His breathing was rickety, but he was still breathing, and that had to count for something. “Spencer,” you cried, watching as blood sept through your jacket, flooding between your fingers as you tried to keep him in one piece.

“Love, open your eyes,” you begged, your eyes flooding with tears until everything was just a blur of red.

His heart was beating, you could feel it beneath your hands. A weak, unsteady beat under your trembling hands. “Baby, please, oh my god,” you pleaded, verging toward incoherent babbling.

You were second-guessing if he was still breathing. If his heart was still beating. With that realization, you screamed.

when my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark earth

At first, you were just screaming, letting the vibrations of your vocal cords portray your emotions, and then you screamed for your team. You had never felt more alone, kneeling in a puddle of Spencer’s blood, and no one was coming to help you.

This couldn’t be how it ended. You refused to acknowledge it, even as you felt the life leave his body.

Leaning your head to the side, you spoke into your radio, “I need medical. I’m in the upper west wing of the building. The suspect is dead, I have an officer and an agent down.” Tears continued to stream down your face.

You heard footsteps behind you as people piled into the room, but you didn’t dare take your eyes off Spencer. Not when there was a chance that it would be the last time you looked at him while you were both still breathing. “Agent,” someone said, but it didn’t register. They kept repeating themselves until two strong arms wrapped around you, dragging you away from Spencer.

Now sat on the floor, you clocked the paramedics that were now frantically working on Spencer, packing his wound, and cutting off the Kevlar vest.

Breathing heavily, you watched out of the corner of your eye as Rossi approached the local officer, checking his pulse. Emily was hovered over the UnSub, collecting his weapon from his corpse.

You were still being firmly held back, trying to pry the tattooed arms of Derek Morgan off of your torso. “Stop, let me get to him. I need to get to him,” you struggled against his grip, but any attempts at freedom were futile. The medics were saying awful things about a weak and thready pulse and pneumothorax.

Clinging to any semblance of hope that you could find, you listened to them talk about Spencer’s pulse, knowing that a pulse meant he was alive.

Your breathing quickened as you looked up at Morgan, Hotch was hovering behind the two of you, “I should’ve called for medical sooner.” Your voice was miserable, you had sat there with your jacket to his side for far too long. He could’ve gotten help from professionals.

“You radioed almost five minutes ago for medical,” Morgan informed you. “The EMTs just couldn’t find you in this damn maze.”

While you had no recollection of calling for help when you first found Spencer, you also knew that Morgan would get no pleasure out of lying to you.

You heard one of the paramedics say there was no pulse, and you didn’t remember anything that followed.

no grave can hold my body down

Crumpled in a ball, you picked at the crusted blood in your fingernails as you focused on the steady beeping of Spencer’s heart monitor.

According to Emily, who had been there when you woke up in the hospital, you had passed out around the time that the medics lost Spencer’s pulse. The doctor said it was just a result of stress. Thanks to some IV fluids and hydroxyzine, you were able to be discharged.

Spencer had been out of surgery for several hours now. The doctors had been careful to use the term “if he wakes up”, while you had made sure to say “when he wakes up.” You were playing the most horrendous waiting game, and there’s nothing worse than playing a game you have no interest in.

You were now donning a pair of black sweatpants and an old Academy t-shirt. Being the only team member permitted to see Spencer while he was still sleeping – girlfriend privileges, as Morgan phrased it – you waited with only the noises of his monitor to keep you company in the ICU.

Nurses came in and out, trying to manage his pain without the use of narcotics, making sure his blood transfusions were helping, and every once in a while, they’d check on you.

At this point, you had been nursing the same cup of ice water for hours, remembering the last thing Spencer had said to you: You’ve always been my favorite dream.

There was something so peculiar about being with someone who read so much, especially when he said such eloquent things while bleeding to death. You sighed, slumping back in the chair, you looked back at Spencer, only to be surprised that he was looking right back at you.

You jumped slightly in the chair, leaning over so that you could look at him, “Hey,” you whispered, maintaining the reverent tones of the Intensive Care Unit. “How do you feel?”

He’d lie to you and tell you he was fine, but you could tell by the way his heart rate increased that it was a lie. His eyebrows furrowed as he clocked the white patient ID bracelet on your wrist and your bloodshot eyes, “You’ve been crying,” he observed.

Despite yourself, you smiled softly, “I thought you were dead.” Your voices were each raspy, yours from screaming and his from being intubated.

Slowly, he unfolded his arm so that his hand was extended to you. Without a second thought, you placed your hand in his. He hummed softly, “And leave you? Never.”

I’ll crawl home to her

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid angst #criminal minds angst #margot's requests #spencer reid hurt/comfort #criminal minds hurt/comfort #spencer reid whump #criminal minds whump

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justauthoring · 3 days

Text

puppy love.

requested! -> high school nanami please! the reader gets everything she wants from kento 🤷‍♀️

a/n -> slowly trying to work through all the requests yall have sent me ':)

pairing -> teen!nanami kento x f!reader

shoko.

"kento-kun~!"

the words on the tip of nanami's tongue are left unsaid as his entire body freezes, a involuntary flush coating his cheeks as the sweet sound of you calling his name floods his senses.

shoko who's stood in front of him raises a brow at nanami's reaction, the stunned look on the younger boys face not one she's seen before. her underclassmen is normally so composed that it was hard to get a reaction out of him ever, and yet a simple call of his name from your lips seems to have the boy starstruck.

you bound up to him, all bright smiles and twinkling eyes, slightly breathless as you all but ran to make your way over to your classmate. shoko notices the faint pink dusted across your cheeks as well and her interest is further piqued as she watches you smile all prettily up at nanami, peering at him through your lashes as you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

"kento-kun," you call again, voice softer but just as sweet now that you've reached him. "are you free right now?"

coughing slightly, shoko notices nanami glances at her out of the corner of his eye, not liking the mischief dancing in her gaze before turning to face you fully. he tries to put off the impression he's annoyed but his gaze remains softened when glancing down at you and the warmth in his gaze is more than obvious to his upperclassman.

"yes." he hums, hand moving to shove in his pocket. "what is it?"

shoko watches as you positively beam, clearly ecstatic at the fact that he was free, hands coming up to clasp in front of you. "would you like to go to this cafe with me?" you ask, head tilted, before reaching for your phone, flipping it open to show off a photo of said new cafe. "yu and i saw it yesterday on our way home from our mission and i think you'd really like it."

the mention of haibara has shoko smirking, clearly noticing the shift in nanami's posture at the mention of his other classmate. something changes in his gaze and shoko has to bite her lips from laughing out loud.

"did you..." and nanami hesitates, looking wildly uncomfortable as he glances at his feet. "did you and haibara go there together yesterday?"

oh, shoko thinks, this was just too good.

nanami? jealous? gojo was going to have a field day with this.

"oh," you blink, momentarily confused before shaking your head. "no. i wanted to go there with you first!"

although he tries to hide it, the pleasure of your words is clear on nanami's face as his entire body eases, no longer tensed as the edges of lips curl upwards just faintly.

shoko snorts.

"okay." he complies, as if the answer would ever be any different. "we can go."

you let out a squeal of excitement, and if it was anyone else, shoko is sure nanami would wince. instead, he watches on with a fond look in his eyes as you start rambling on about how excited you were and what treats you wanted to try all whilst nanami nods, actively listening while letting you lead the conversation.

you wave bye to shoko as you and nanami make your way off the schoolgrounds, and just as you and nanami turn out of view, she sees him shuffle towards you, arms brushing together. she grins when she sees you glance up at him, still beaming, wrapping your hands around his arm and leaning against him, and nanami lets you.

all without complaint.

without hesitation, shoko turns, eyes peeled for a certain white-haired, blind-fold wearing classmate that would love to hear about what she just witnessed.

gojo.

"y/l/n~!"

gojo grins as you turn from your spot at the table to face him, a smile curling on your lips as you wave at your senpai, beckoning him over.

"gojo-senpai," you greet as he reaches the table, "what brings you here?"

gojo smirks as he glances to your left where nanami sits, the two of you having been working on some homework together and registers the rather nasty glare his underclassman was sending him. nanami didn't like him at the best of times, it was true, but there seemed to be an extra edge to his glare that day as gojo took a seat across from you.

"oh, i saw my precious kohai's and i thought i'd come by to say hi," gojo explains with a shrug, playing it off as nonchalant. he feels nanami's gaze narrow at him, obviously expecting there to be more to the story than gojo is letting off.

which is true, of course, but gojo certainly wasn't going to admit to that.

"oh!" you beam, "well, kento-kun was just helping me with my homework." cheeks flushing, you shift in your spot, embarrassed. "i'm not very bright sometimes when it comes to the academic stuff."

"that's not true," nanami cuts in otherwise almost instantly and gojo smirks. "you just need extra time. there's nothing wrong with that."

your cheeks are practically burning at nanami's words, turning to look at your classmate with a doe-eyed expression.

gojo internally laughs. shoko was definitely right.

"hey, y/l/n," gojo calls, pulling your eyes on him as you blink, somewhat dazed, over at him. "i could you help with this stuff, ya know? i am after all your senpai!"

your eyes widen at his offer, obviously not having expected it. gojo was nice enough and he had never been anything but kind with you; maybe a little cocky and he liked to tease, but still nice. he'd never offered to help you with anything school wise though, whether that be training or just homework.

"gojo-senpai, i—"

"that won't be necessary," nanami cuts in, voice sharp. you blink at him in surprise at his sudden change in tone but gojo, having expected it, simply tries to hold back the laugh threatening to burst past his lips.

nanami then turns to you. "don't trust a word this idiot says," he explains to you, and any normal day gojo might be mildly insulted. today though? he's just amused. "he's basically failing everything."

not true, but—

"o-oh," you stammer, eyes flickering nervously between nanami and gojo.

"now, if you'll excuse us," nanami turns back to gojo, glaring at him, "y/n and i need to actually do some work. we can't all just mess around like you."

gojo's eyes flicker to the way you grab onto the sleeve of his shirt, tugging as you mumble worriedly at him, afraid he was actually hurting gojo's feelings. gojo just continues to grin, moving to stand back up as he brushes your concern off.

"no worries, y/l/n," gojo assures, sending you a thumbs up. "have fun, you two. and still, y/l/n, the offer stands."

gojo's running off before nanami can send a slur of insults at him again.

geto.

this was ridiculous, geto realized.

but gojo had begged him and wouldn't shut up until he agreed. so, here he was, standing in front of you, his fingers working to brush a strand of hair behind your ear as you blushed up at him, frazzled and confused, smiling softly down at you as he waited for nanami to make his way down the hall.

he was fully prepared to make gojo suffer for forcing him to do this and the thought that he should've continued to deny, despite how annoying his best friend was, crosses his mind. because now he was not only being forced to do something embarrassing, but to mess around with his underclassmen.

unlike his best friend, geto thought he was a decent role model for the first years. haibara seemed to like him well enough, constantly asking for him to help him train and nanami didn't seem to hate him as much as he hated gojo. and you? you were sweet, too nice for your own good and even geto had to admit, you were rather pretty.

so this? flirting with you when he truly meant nothing by it other than to make nanami jealous? felt incredibly wrong.

"ge-geto-senpai—"

"please, call me suguru," he smiles, internally cringing at himself.

yeah, he was definitely going to make gojo pay for this.

your cheeks burn brighter, "oh, well, i don't—"

"y/n?"

you startle at the sound of nanami's voice, back straightening as you quickly pull yourself out of geto's grasp. geto lets his hands fall by his sides with ease, taking a step back as you rush over to nanami, eyes wide with your hands held out before you desperately.

"kento-kun, what... what are you doing here?"

nanami's eyes flicker to geto, and to his credit, geto tries to offer a small smile in greeting, before he focuses back on you. "looking for you. we were supposed to study together, remember? you were the one who asked in first place."

"oh!" you blink, eyes widening. "yes, sorry, kento-ken. i... we can go now." you send a flustered look back at geto and nanami's eyes narrow, shuffling uncomfortably on the spot.

nanami looks like he wants to argue otherwise, sending a glare at geto that has him wincing (there goes his reputation with the first year). but your hand slipping into his is enough to satiate him, tugging him along with you.

"b-bye, geto-senpai!" you offer faintly to geto, waving at him over your shoulder before grinning brightly up at nanami.

well, it was clear gojo and shoko were right about the two of you but he definitely needed to have a conversation with his friends about not meddling in the first years personal lives.

geto, however, did let a smile curl on his lips when he noticed you'd been very specific about referring to him by his last name, despite his previous words. or the way you'd made sure nanami had heard you refer to him as such.

ah, young love.

haibara.

"are you and y/n dating?"

nanami nearly spits out the water he'd been drinking, feeling the burn of it as some of comes up his nose. he coughs, lowering the water bottle to the table as he tries to gather his bearings. blinking, nanami presses a hand to his chest, before turning to look at haibara with a look of disbelief.

"what?"

haibara, to his credit, looks genuinely confused.

"are you not?" he asks, head tilting. "i just assumed you guys were."

"what—why would you assume that?"

haibara doesn't fail to notice how red his friends cheeks have gotten.

"well, you're always helping her with homework and studying together," he starts off, raising his hand to list off just the few scenarious he's witnessed in the past week alone. "when i ask you for help, you tell me to figure it out myself. and! oh! you guys went to that cafe together the other day and when i asked to stop off somewhere, after a mission not to mention, you told me to go by myself so—"

nanami splutters for a response.

"not to mention," haibara adds, pressing a finger to his chin in thought. "gojo-senpai and shoko-senpai told me you were so—"

"they what?!"

haibara blinks, surprised and confused by nanami's outburst. "yeah? the other day." he hums, nodding. "i went to join you and y/n outside and they pulled me aside, telling me i should leave you two to your date alone... is that not what they meant?"

haibara tilts his head, only then noticing how nanami looks like he's practically about to combust on the spot.

"nanami...?"

pushing himself to a stand, nanami doesn't say anything before he promptly turns and leaves.

stunned and confused, haibara blinks.

"what did i say?"

nanami.

"i need to talk to you."

"oh, kento-kun! what's up?"

truthfully, nanami probably should've taken a moment to think through just exactly what he meant to say to you before all but barging into your room.

he'd been so frazzled and embarrassed that he hadn't really been thinking straight, his feet walking for him until he found himself outside your dorm room. he hadn't even knocked before opening it and oh god, the realization that you could've been... changing crosses his mind as nanami feels himself grow hot from embarrassment.

"kento-kun?" you call out, concerned, as you stand up from your bed. "are you okay?"

he blinks and suddenly you're in front of him. he hadn't even realized you'd been making your way over to him until that moment!

heart pounding, still breathless, nanami meets your gaze, letting his eyes wander across you. before he can stop himself, his eyes lower to your lips, almost involuntarily, and then, with a split second though, he's leaning forward and pressing his lips against your own.

you freeze at the action, body stilling and nanami panics, moving to pull away, but then a second later you're easing into his touch, returning to kiss as your hands move to grip the front of his school uniform. you tug him towards you, holding him in place and nanami practically melts at the spot.

a moment later you pull away, cheeks rosy and breathless, grinning up at nanami.

"i've been waiting for you to do that forever," you confess, breathless.

and nanami's never felt like more of a fool then he does in that moment for waiting so damn long.

yaga.

wordlessly, shoko and gojo stretch their hands out towards their teacher, grinning ear to ear, palms up. geto stands behind them, shaking his head.

"you two are ridiculous." yaga grumbles, "you meddled."

shoko just shrugs; "never said we couldn't meddle."

"besides," gojo snorts. "if anything we helped. who knows how long it would've taken nanami to say something. have you met the boy?"

yaga just rolls his eyes, reaching into his pocket for his wallet.

#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #nanami fluff #teen nanami #teen nanami x reader

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luveline · 2 days

Note

I would dieeee for some more of Spencer and bombshell after her getting injured😭 him taking such good care of her, the BEST doctors, researching every single option😭 reassuring her rhats shes just as pretty😭

—Spencer looks after you while you recover from a brutal injury. fem!reader, 1.1k

Spencer thinks it’s one of the team's more gruesome injuries. Hotch has been stabbed to mince meat and Emily half-killed, Elle got shot, and he’s had his fair share of violence, too, but he can’t imagine the horror of being hit in the face with a hammer. The pain so close to your eyes, your teeth, your brain, the fear and the sudden crack. He feels sick whenever he remembers the sound, and he was sick the first time he dreamt about the way you cried as it happened. Your strange yelp, the immediate drop to the floor.

Spencer never hit somebody as hard as he did that UnSub. His gun whipped out possessed across the UnSub’s face, and then drove forward into their nose with a stomach turning crunch.

They’re in custody, and you’re in bed recovering with some of the best doctors in the world. Spencer thinks you both won this round, even if it doesn’t feel like a win right now.

“Shh,” he whispers, “shh, shh, it’s okay. It’s okay, don’t cry.”

You cling to his chest as though worried he’s going to move out of reach, sobbing. You’re careful not to touch your face or his chest, the soreness too much, but the rest of you is clinging to him. You don’t have to worry, he’s not going anywhere.

“Please, it’s okay,” he says, the tip of his nose to your forehead. “You can have another dose in twenty minutes. Just twenty minutes.”

He supposes the pain reminds you of the full extent of the injury, your jaw fractured in two places, your gum traumatised, your face more bruise than anything else. You hate your appearance being out of your control, it’s making you panic —he can feel you shaking.

He’d sat down with your drink to find you already crying, he couldn’t have been gone for ten minutes, but it was long enough for you to fall deep into the throes of hysteria. You’d grappled for him as he sat down to hug you, your face hidden ever since, and now the shakes have started. He’s hopeless.

But Spencer’s willing to do anything to make it better. “Can you tell me what’s upsetting you? Please?” he asks.

“It’s–” Harder sobbing, your tears dripping down from your chin to wet the thigh of his pants.

He has to calm you down.

Since you met Spencer, you’ve been the comforter. He can’t count how many times something has hurt him and you’ve rushed to save him. You’ve hugged and held and kissed him into smiling, you’ve never let him down, you’ve forgiven him after a hundred stupid mistakes, so Spencer doesn’t care that you’ve been inconsolable for days. He really doesn’t mind that he’s had to look after you this attentively. It’s his pleasure, and he’s getting better at it.

He presses a few soft shushes somewhere in your hairline, his hand rubbing a circuit into your back with a firm pressure that never tips into roughness. He does it until his palm is numb. He could paint the slant of your back from muscle memory, fingers tripping down the creased fabric of your pyjamas, pulling back up to your neck. He’s never felt such tender sympathy. He hates that you’re in pain, but he doesn’t hate getting to rub your back. This is surely boyfriend territory.

“You want something to drink now?” he asks quietly.

You open your mouth to answer, sighing in pain momentarily. “Uh, yeah.”

“Did you want the straw?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” He can’t force himself away. “You okay for me to move you?”

“Yeah.”

You can’t be blamed for short answers.

There are surgeries to hold your jaw together when it breaks, and while you were unconscious (shock, rather than head injury), Hotch consented as your next of kin for the doctors to make sure things wouldn’t get worse, but it was Spencer who had to advocate for you afterwards. They’d wanted a metal connector to prevent dislocation. Spencer knew this could mean another scar, so he said no, because you might’ve said no had you been awake, and they should’ve asked you anyways.

When you did wake up, you were vehemently against it. Which is fine, you can heal without it, but it’s scarier to do it unaided. Your jaw could dislocate if you do something wrong, which is not only horrifically painful, but a painfully horrific injury to have. You talk quietly. You take small mouthfuls of soft foods.

Spencer looks at you now, tearstained, back arched like a kicked dog, and doesn’t know what to do. He wishes he were the one who got injured instead.

He takes the hospital bed controls into his hand and presses the button to make the top of your mattress elevate. Tomorrow, they’ll send you home, and Spencer will have to construct a nest of pillows for you to sit in while you recover, but it’ll be worth it. Things won’t feel as intimidating when you’re in your own bed.

“Lean back, beautiful,” he says.

Your smile is a straight line with eyes lit up. “What for?” you ask.

“Comfier. Less stress on your head.” You lean back. “Oh,” he adds, “and so I can get a better view of you.”

Your eyes get impossibly brighter. “What do you think?” you murmur. Your voice sounds scratched to death from crying, tight from holding your mouth a certain way, but pleased anyways. It’s just as pretty as it always is to him.

“You’re the prettiest girl in the world,” he says, reaching out to cradle your waist, his hand moving up and down the side of you tenderly.

You have a bruise from under your left eye and bleeding down your neck, and you haven’t slept right for a few days, but you’re undeniably beautiful in Spencer’s eyes.

You’ve been the most beautiful girl in the world literally from the day you met onward, with as much to do with your heart as your lovely face. He should tell you that, but he doesn’t.

“Can I have water now?” you ask, covering his hand with yours.

His confidence wobbles. “Oh, yeah, sorry. Sorry.” He grabs your drink, water spilling down the side to wet his hand.

“Please don’t make me laugh.”

“I’m not trying to,” he says pathetically.

He holds the cup of water to your face and you guide the straw between your lips. Spencer’s sure he’s been in love with you forever, and it’s all but cemented now.

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uglyducklingofthe2000s · 20 hours

Text

Fingertips - OP81

Summary: Oscar's fingertips only have to brush her skin for her to find him stuck to her like a magnet.

No part 2 requests please

The soft feeling of Oscar's fingertips dancing on her skin, having slid under her t-shirt as he feels her shift to reach for her phone. He always tries to discourage her from being on her phone first thing, so feeling herself dragged back away from reaching distance of her phone, she laughs feeling his arms wrap around her tightly, pinning her own around her in doing so.

"Oscar...you're crushing me." Y/n whines through a laugh making him hum but really he's completely unbothered as he nuzzles into her neck.

Oscar isn't always the easiest man to wake up in the morning, he prefers to keep her close and holds her as closely as possible. Like she's a teddy bear, his comfort coming solely from her.

Eventually he's eased from his depth of sleep and loosens his hold on her just enough for her to roll over and face him properly.

"You're so pretty in the morning." Oscar smiles making her look at him, wrinkling her nose at the suggestion she could possibly look good right now. "You are. Don't insult my girlfriend by saying you're not."

"I am you're girlfriend, and I can say what I like about myself." Y/n smiles poking his ribs watching him smile before she begins to sit up and make a weak attempt at getting up from the bed. "Can I get up yet?"

"No."

"Ok, fine by me." Y/n laughs feeling his fingers drawing shapes on her skin though she frowns for a second. "Are you drawing hearts?"

His hand still very suddenly making her laugh before she looks at him with a grin.

Oscar's public image isn't usually the most affectionate man, sure people think he looks at Lando like he wears a halo. But really that's nothing compared to the way he looks at her.

Although half of the time when he knows she's about and he wants to find her, he looks very much like a lost puppy.

Today it's happened and be caught on camera both by media and by fans alike. Even by Lando at one point for the McLaren team account.

Oscar walks through the paddock having left the garage after a rushed debrief after quick qualifying thanks to him getting caught in traffic and taken out in Q1. For some reason he's itching to see her and when he finds her doing on the McLaren communal seats it only takes the lightest touch for her to sit up and let him slide onto the sofa before she lies back down.

"Why didn't you come to the garage?" Oscar mumbles making her frown lightly at him.

"You told me to watch from here, I only started to fall asleep because you had gone out. I was waiting for you." Y/n states earning hum feeling his fingers playing with strands of her hair. "It's one qualifying, it doesn't mean anything."

"Tell that to the fans and media who will rip into me."

"Hey. You own up to your mistakes, it's not like you're sitting here having a party about your Q1 exit. You're not happy." Y/n frowns then sitting up properly and shifting so her legs are tossed over his lap. "Don't beat yourself up before you've even seen what people are saying."

"Well, if you're not going to be harsh on me, one of us has to." Oscar smiles pulling her up entirely onto his lap as he seems to nuzzle his face into her neck, breathing in the perfume he thinks he's addicted to.

"Keep it PG, this is a public area." Lando jokes appearing with Zak as through walk into the shared space and y/n looks up with a smile while Oscar just remains hidden.

"Don't worry mate, everyone's all had bad qualis." Zak states making y/n shoot him a grateful smile as she rubs Oscar's back. "Get yourself home and just see that you're rested up for tomorrow."

"You heard the boss. We're free to go." Y/n smiles standing up and finding Oscar almost clinging to her, arms wrapping around her as he stands up matching her speed.

Even Lando and Zak seem shocked by Oscar's clinginess to his girlfriend. But she doesn't even worry about the looks getting Oscar to his drivers' room, grabbing his stuff and walking out, hands linked with each other's as they do so.

By the time they get to the hotel again, Oscar's all but climbing inside of her.

"Sad or just tired?" Y/n questions earning a tsk from the driver.

"Neither, I just love my girlfriend and I always want to be with her." Oscar grumbles making her laugh a little before she sighs and looks at him for a moment. "I don't know what's wrong with me...I feel like I always want you around even when I'm supposed to be working or doing something important where you can't be around."

"I'm not complaining." Y/n hums which earns her a sharp look up. "Oscar...you realise I feel the same. I hate being away from you. It sucks. It doesn't mean there's something wrong with you."

"You mean it?" Oscar mumbles watching her smile.

"I'm pretty sure most girls would hack of a leg to hear a man say he thinks there's something wrong with them because they actually miss their girlfriend and want to be around her. Of course I mean it." Y/n tsks before sighing and running her hand through his hair. "I love you."

'I love you too."

Getting time off with Oscar, y/n is honestly so happy to just be involved in his time off and spending it how he seems to be eager about it.

"What are you wearing?" Oscar mumbles making her look at him.

It's freezing out in England right now. Spring time is a lie here and summer is definitely not on it's way.

"Why? We're not going anywhere." Y/n laughs only to find him looking at her as he pulls on her joggers, tucking the socks.

It's not that cold in his apartment but even just the atmosphere of England gives a chill.

Oscar doesn't answer verbally instead leaving her to watch him pull on a matching outfit earning a grin before she sighs and climbs onto him, laughing a little when he holds her legs keeping them around his waist.

"You are the cutest, neediness boyfriend ever. But I think you might've just made me decide there is not a single day in my life I'm going to be able to live without you acting like this from now on."

Oscar hums carrying her into the living room where he very much nestles into her. At some point while she's distracted by watching a very attention grabbing episode of Unsolved Mysteries, he manages to practically climb under his her hoodie, smushing his face into her tummy and just keeping his head tucked under the material.

He doesn't even fall asleep, just happy to be there. There is some amusement and suppressed laughs at the gurgling sound of her tummy under his head but honestly he's more focused on being able to hear her heart being.

It sounds stupid that it brings him a type of comfort that he's never felt before with anyone else.

"Hey, you good in there?" Y/n laughs lifting the neck hole to look down at him under the hoodie.

Oscar can't even hide his grin as he looks up at y/n then tucking his head back down to it's previous position.

"Yes, I think we should stay like this forever."

"That's fine with me. Even if you must be bored with your view blocked."

"No, I'm listening to it all. It's quite peaceful."

"Alright...whatever you say, my little koala." Y/n hums before she reaches a hand down to gently rub his back.

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f0point5 · 3 days

Note

i NEED jealous Max. Please 🥺🥺🥺 I love jealous/possessive guys haha the feminism just leaves my body

Me too! GOD. Me, too.

It took me ages to decide how to go about this because I had soooo many ideas but I hope you like it!

✨set during the Miami GP weekend 2022✨

Everybody wants you, but I don’t like a gold rush

Max glances down at his watch. 17 minutes. 17 minutes you’ve been standing in the gallery area of the garage, fanning yourself with a magazine - with Max’s face on the front of it, no less - in the Miami heat, talking to some freakishly tall guy in a Louis Vuitton denim jacket and aviator sunglasses. He’s so painfully American that Max wonders what you even have to talk about for…eighteen minutes.

You tighten your high ponytail while Paul Bunyon talks, his mouth wide with every word. Max studies your face for any sign that you’re bored. He’s bored of watching this, but he knows from experience that not looking isn’t a real option. You haven’t looked over at him once in those eighteen minutes, in fact you haven’t even been distracted by the mechanics moving around or the noise of drilling and clattering tools.

This guy must be really fucking interesting.

You smile at something Captain America says and Max feels his jaw clenched so hard he thinks a tooth is going to crack.

It’s like he’s thirteen again, watching you stand in the middle of the makeshift paddock at the karting track, swarmed by every one of his competitors, their parents packing up their stuff as they vie for your attention. He was the only one who stayed away, following his dad’s instructions on how to properly dismantle and store things while sneaking glimpses at the show you were running. He would win every race and still go home feeling like a loser.

It’s different now, of course. He doesn’t take your gregarious nature so personally now, and he can admit he understands what men see in you now, even if he doesn’t feel it. But he’d be lying if he said it doesn’t trigger something in him to see the way men react to you. It might irritate him less if you enjoyed it, but you’ve long since grown out of that. Now, you expect it so much that you ignore it, and Max has no choice to but to notice it, the same way you’d notice a rusty knife embedded in your side.

“You’re not listening to me, are you?” GP says, which snaps Max out of his calculations.

“I’m listening,” Max says, fiddling with the brim of his cap. “Drive fast, win race, I got it,”

GP frowns at his dismissive tone, and Max makes a point of looking at his water bottle, lest GP realise what actually had his attention. “Max, you need to focus. What are you even-“ It’s the sound of your laugh - high pitched over the deep bass of the music - that makes GP look across the garage. His features twist in disapproval as he turns back to Max. “You’ve got to be kidding me,”

Max looks down at his shoes, moving his foot as he inspects them. “What?”

Above him, GP groans. “I’m not going to say anything about the situation as a whole, because it’s waste of my time. But specifically now, she’s right there, she’s not going anywhere. Can we please just go through this once and then you can carry on staring?”

Max rolls his eyes, steeling his face as a cameraman enters the garage. He’s wearing a Red Bull shirt so Max doesn’t mind too much, but he can’t be captured looking as morose as he feels. The cameraman pans past him and onto you and the guest. Max watches you cringe as the guy throws up some hand sign to the camera, clearly at home with the media attention.

“Who even is that?” Max asks, unable to hide his rancour. He’s probably going to be forced to take a picture with Popeye later.

“I don’t know, some American football player?” GP says with a shrug, giving Max a helpless look. GP couldn’t give less of a shit about the celebrity guests touted around the gargae, and normally Max is his ally. “Are we done?”

Max nods, but not even a second later he’s looking again. It gets worse the more you talk, he can see this guy becoming more enchanted by the second. He wonders what kind of steroids they take in American sports leagues because the meathead is acting like a dog in heat. He leans towards you at an angle that is wholly unnecessary, his eyes fixated on your mouth, nodding too emphatically at everything you say.

“My God, why doesn’t he just lick her face,” Max says incredulously, more to himself than anything.

“Max,” GP sighs.

“Come on,” Max implores with a scoff, stopping himself from outright gesturing in your direction. “Look at him. That’s embarrassing,”

GP fixes Max with a deadpan expression. “Right, but you being sulky and jealous is the height of cool?”

“I’m not jealous.”

And he isn’t. Because Joe DiMaggio over there doesn’t have anything he wants. He’s not going to waste time being jealous of a guy getting half an hour with you when he has cats, and a home, and a life with you.

Finally, you look in his direction, but only because GP calls your name. “Can you come here?”

You give GP a thumbs up and excuse yourself, trotting over to Max without a second thought. Wannabe Tom Brady brazenly enjoys the view, and Max swears he hasn’t been that close to punching someone since Monza last year.

“What’s up?” You ask, slotting yourself between the two men as you lean back against the shelf.

GP hands you his phone. “Beat this Candy Crush level for me, would you? Been stuck for days,”

You look at him skeptically, but years of being filmed up close by cameras on the pit wall have given GP a hell of a poker face; he just stares back at you, and you give up with a huff.

“Men are hopeless,” you say with a roll of your eyes.

“Couldn’t agree more,” GP says, his eyes pointedly on Max, who can’t even defend himself.

Desperate to avoid GP’s scrutiny, he glances over at the gallery, only to find the Yank looking at him. Well, not him, you. He’s got that curious expression as he assesses you fiddling with GP’s phone, one that says he’s trying to understand if he has something to be worried about. He doesn’t. You’re not his to worry about.

“Here,” Max says, pulling off his cap. You barely look up at him before he puts his cap firmly on your head, holding it steady with one hand while pulling your ponytail through the hole at the back with the other.

The brim of the hat obscures half your face, and Max turns so that half your body is shielded by his, which he tells himself is in case a camera comes by.

“It’s sunny,” Max shrugs in his own defence, when he notices you looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

You adjust the cap on your head but don’t take it off. “Why don’t you just give me your letterman jacket?”

“My what?”

“Never mind,” you chuckle, shaking your head at him as you pat his chest with an indulgent smile.

He takes the opportunity at the sound of a large wheel gun to glance over at the gallery, only to meet the eyes of the guy you were talking to. Now that you’re no longer next to him, Max does sort of recognise him. He plays for some team named after an animal. Max just looks at him - he’ll do this all day if he has to - until the guy shoves his hands in his pockets and pulls out his phone, starting to tap away. Yeah, go back to Raya.

Good riddance, Max thinks to himself as he turns back to you, only to find that you already looking at him. He wonders for how long.

He can tell by your smirk that he’s been caught. If he’s honest with himself you caught him five years ago, this was just one of the few moments he let you know it. And you know it. How could you not know?

He thinks for a second that you’re going to tease him, but you don’t. You shift on your feet so that some of your weight rests against his arm, and go back to playing on GP’s phone.

“Go on, GP,” he says, fighting a smile at the large number 1 on the brim of what is now your hat.

He knows from the way GP is looking at him that he’ll get an earful about this later, but right now, he just clears his throat.

“Right, so,”

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine

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benkeibear · 1 day

Text

⋆꙳✧༄ Faking an orgasm

꒰ ͜͡➸ How they react (and punish) you for faking an orgasm

❖ Characters: Geto, Gojo, Toji

❖ Reader: genderneutral | AFAB

❖ WARNINGS: sub!reader, unprotected sex, creampie, thigh riding, mentions of fingering and masturbation/toys, degradation (reader being called "bitch", "pet"), reader getting called "Angel", "bunny", "baby"

❖ A/n: Don't wanna miss a post? Sign up for my taglist in my Navi! || Repost bc community label after 5 seconds

☰ Geto:

ꕤ You were just exhausted from the day and somehow your head was everywhere but in the moment despite wanting nothing more than for your boyfriend to rail you like he was at the moment

ꕤ Geto had you on all fours before taking a fist full of hair to pull you up against his chest and you could feel his hips stutter

ꕤ Not wanting him to hold back you just faked it - giving it your best act

ꕤ He scoffed and pushed you into the mattress, your hips still high as your head got buried in the surface beneath you but he pulled out right before he came, letting his seed shoot over the globes of your ass and lower back

ꕤ You pouted at that “you promised to cum inside tonight,” you whined and heard him chuckle while shaking his head

ꕤ “Only good girls get filled with my cum - and you certainly aren't one,” he hissed before releasing your hair from his tight grip and you knew that he didn't believe that fake orgasm

ꕤ Before you were able to explain yourself to him, he patted his thigh, his back resting against the headboard “If you still want to cum you gotta work for it.”

ꕤ You were pouting but yes, yes you wanted to release so badly, unsure why you even faked it but this was your punishment now

ꕤ You straddled one of his thighs, his hands having a death grip on your hips to rut you against his leg at his desired speed - slow and with barely any pressure, making sure to let you suffer

ꕤ “Go ahead, dove, thank me for helping you,” He hummed, a playful smirk on his lips

ꕤ Without thinking much, you started thanking him for being so generous, for helping you to find pleasure. It made you feel so ashamed of faking it but that's exactly what he wanted

ꕤ “Keep up this slow pace, be a good girl and i might even slip a finger into your weeping cunt,” He breathed against your ear, knowing how much you love to ride his fingers

☰ Gojo:

ꕤ Gojo knew something felt off when your moans weren't the same, sounding rather fake so it came as no surprise when you faked it

ꕤ You don't even know why you did it, things just didn't feel as intense or like you're gonna release any time soon and hoped he wouldn't notice - bot oh he did notice

ꕤ He just continued as if he didn't know and finished a short while later but rolled off right away, a playful smile on his lips and that's when you knew that you're fucked

ꕤ “Have fun finishing yourself off then,” He hummed unbothered, that teasing smirk only getting bigger when he saw your mortified face

ꕤ “Didn't think i would notice, hm bunny?” He asked amused before turning to face you, his head propped up on one arm

ꕤ You felt like a deer in headlights under his mocking gaze along with his teasing and somehow you really hoped he would help you release

ꕤ But Gojo wouldn't be Gojo if he wouldn't be a menace, slender fingers dancing over your skin, always close but never touching the areas you needed him so desperately

ꕤ “Is my cock not good enough anymore? Do you need your own little fingers now? Maybe even your adorable toy? yeah, i know of your little secrets,” He teases relentlessly, making you flustered but oh so turned on

ꕤ “Go ahead and touch yourself for me… let me see,” he giggled, wanting to guide your movements with his voice now

ꕤ He wouldn't touch you in order to help you, that was your little punishment

☰ Toji:

ꕤ RIP to your little kitty

ꕤ Why you thought faking it is a good idea? Maybe because you know exactly how mad he gets after

ꕤ It hurts his ego more than anything that he can't satisfy you to the point where you see it necessary to fake it but you love how he reacts so you fake it

ꕤ Tojis hips slow down in pace when your walls don't grip him like a vice as they usually do and with one swift movement he manhandles you into a mating press

ꕤ “Think I'm too dumb to notice, angel? Let me teach you a lesson” he growls while he pushes your legs tightly against your chest, his cock now deeper than before which made you whimper

ꕤ “That's what I thought. Crying for me like a bitch in heat,” he continues to degrade you but this is a punishment, you're not getting it the way you want it

ꕤ His pace is now oh so slow, far too slow for your liking but you feel the tip of his length drag against your walls and brushing against all the right spots and it made you lose your mind

ꕤ You were now stuck, folded in half between your lover and the mattress while he tortured you with slow thrusts, a mischievous grin painted on his face that screamed victory as degrading words fell from his lips

ꕤ You were a mess by the time he was done with you, far too overstimulated and every drag of his cock along your walls borderline painful

ꕤ "Who knew my baby can only cum when degraded into nothing but a hole for me to fuck," he chuckled before pulling out so you won't even get the satisfaction of being filled

ꕤ Toji came over your face just to degrade you some more “go clean yourself up. You're such a mess,” he ordered but waited for your return

ꕤ When you were back in his arms he hummed softly “did you learn your lesson now, angel?”

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#Rhy sins ♡#jjk x reader #jjk smut #geto x reader #geto smut #gojo x reader #gojo smut #toji x reader #toji smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk gojo #jjk toji #geto suguru #gojo satoru #toji fushiguro

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