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sexlapis · 6 months

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[◉°] … NANAMI KENTO & Y/N BEING A COUPLE FOR 10 MINUTES STRAIGHT… 429k views

⁺ 🧃　 ♡ ₊﹒ ⌣

꩜: actor!nanami x actress!reader

⤷ a short compilation of y/n & nanami moments!

sfw, fluff, accidental kisses, ooc nanami kinda

. art credits to @/osusiudon on twitter

masterlists

౨ৎ first clip

“whereee is nanamiiii?” you whine, filming yourself as you walk around the set, trying to find your favourite cast member. you walk through a door. “nanamiii-oh there he is..”

you look surprised and then you tell the camera, “shhhh..nanami is asleep..”

you tiptoe towards where he lays passed out on a couch with his costume goggles right beside him. you turn the camera around to face nanami, his mouth agape as little snores passed through.

“awwww.. he looks so cute..”

you put the camera close to his face, making nanami look funny. “haha..i’m so keeping this-”

nanami snorts suddenly and shifts in a rapid movement, shocking you and making you drop your phone on his poor face.

“ahh!” you cry. fumbling ensues before you get your camera upright again, pointing it at a now awake, disappointed looking nanami, sitting up on the couch as he stares at you blankly. his hair is messy, tie askew and his eyes tired.

“sorry nanami…did i wake you??”

“…”

nanami sighs and rubs his eyes. “i don’t know _____. did you barge in here, record me and drop your phone on my face?”

“…oops?”

nanami stares at you some more and then you pat his head in apology.

“sorry, nanamin…”

he sighs again. “why are you like this…”

౨ৎ second clip

the paparazzi secretly filmed you and nanami exiting a store (which they had followed you both to). now of course, fans criticised said paparazzi, but after seeing the video themselves…they couldn’t be all that sad about it.

you and nanami walk out of the automatic doors, arms linked and nanami carries the shopping bag.

you’re eating your little treat, strolling with nanami to the sidewalk when he points to your shoes, noticing that your laces are undone.

he speaks and you just shrug, continuing to eat, uncaring of your unlaced shoes that are a hazard.

nanami has you hold the grocery bag temporarily and then kneels down and ties your laces securely, all the while you chew on your food and smile down at him.

he stands up and takes the bag from you to carry once more. you inaudibly talk before linking arms with him again and resting your head on his shoulder while you both walk away.

౨ৎ third clip

the director yells cut and you are immediately running towards nanami and throwing your arms around his shirtless waist, careful to avoid the very intricate, realistic body paint covering half of his body.

“nanami! please don’t dieeeee!” you cry, looking up at him, “who’s going to be my emotional support actor?”

nanami huffs and pats your back, “_____…i won’t disappear..i’ll still be on the set…”

“it’s not the same!” you grumble into his chest. “it’s like you died for real!”

“no it’s not. i’ll visit everyday until this series ends.”

“really?” you look up at him, eyes glossy, “you better not be lying. promise?”

“yes, i promise.” he sighs fondly.

“okay..”

still hugging him, you turn to look at the camera and blatantly check out his shredded torso and thick, strong arms. nanami just stands there, confused.

you rest your head on one of his pecs, looking at the camera and smiling. “i get to do this everyday, you know.”

nanami scoffs and shakes his head at you. you are unbelievable.

౨ৎ fourth clip

you and the a few members of the cast of jujutsu kaisen had agreed to play a game of “silent library”for charity and nanami had agreed to play too, which shocked both the cast and the fans considering nanami rarely participated in games like this.

nanami has struck luck so far but it runs out on the sixth round.

the cards are handed out and suspense rises when you all quickly flip them over.

you groan out loud before slapping a hand over your mouth when you see that you’ve received the death card.

looking around, you notice that nanami and gojo also share the same card, and you point at them confused, while the members who are safe sigh in relief and thank god.

nanami closes his eyes and gojo slumps in his chair dramatically, making a weak noise in his mouth. you snort. you’re quickly hushed.

the name of the game is presented, “suck and blow”, and poorly stifled chuckles ring around the room. you rub your eyes, already dreading what’s about to come.

gojo eyes you, making a come hither motion with his long finger and swear at him silently. nanami is silent and looks between the two of you blankly.

the aim of the game? all three players must pass plastic card between them with only their lips.

your head falls onto the table, gojo is grinning and nanami is, as always, sighing.

the three of you sit on stools, with yourself insisting on being in the middle.

“i could’ve sworn i’ve had a dream just like this…” gojo whispers and nanami is leaning all the way around to smack the back of his head. gojo gasps and utahime scolds at him to shut his mouth.

the plastic card is given to gojo and the timer begins. he sucks it to his lips, cheeks hollow and he looked very stupid. gojo grabs your head and presses the card to your lips, making it seem like you are both kissing. you grunt and begin smacking the side of his face. suppressed laughter can be heard around you as you forcefully pull away from gojo.

you purse your lips, holding the plastic card on them as best as you can and turning to face nanami. he leans in, ready to get this over with.

it happened so fast.

nanami’s face is close to yours as you move to transfer the plastic card to his lips..and then the card falls.

it falls and you’re kissing nanami for half a second.

you gasp and pull back, embarrassed and covering your face.

you hear a squeal, a loud gasp and shocked laughter as you drown in shame. nanami sits there, fiddling, not knowing what to do with his hands and his face is clearly pink.

gojo teases you both to no end and the timer is already up.

it’s safe to say you all lost that round.

౨ৎ fifth clip

nanami is forced to go on a talk show (as he claims his manager made him do it ).

his responses are perfect and polite - nanami clearly has some sort of media training or an upper class background of some sort. it’s like nothing could catch him off guard whatsoever.

nanami is talking and then, the host interrupts. “are you and _____ dating?”

the audience chuckles and nanami is caught off guard. “wh-what?” nanami breathes out, a blush rising from his neck to his cheeks. “what?”

“are you and _____ dating?”

“no…” nanami clears his throat, gulping, “no of course not…”

“what do you mean “of course not?” do you not like _____?”

“what? of course i like-” nanami cuts himself off with a deep sigh and the crowd laughs at his embarrassment and fluster. “_____…_____ is a lovely woman, she’s a respected colleague, a valued friend, she’s-”

“well since you like her so much, let’s bring her out!” the host flings his arm out in the direction of the entrance stairway, “give a warm welcome to _____!”

“?”

the crowd is screaming as you walk in, waving at them with a warm smile on your face and sit next to nanami.

nanami looks at you, face red. “i-”

“don’t let him stop you.” you say, referring to the host’s interruption and the cheers erupting from the sea of people. “keep talking about me!”

nanami sighs. “shit…”

౨ৎ sixth clip

you’re being interviewed on the red carpet by a boisterous, joyful middle aged lady who asks you many questions, one of them being, “fuck, marry, kill”.

“okay fuck, marry, kill with getou suguru, nanami kento and gojo sa-”

“easy,” you cut in, not even hearing the rest of the question, “fuck getou, marry nanami and kill gojo. easiest question i’ve had so far!”

on the other end of the carpet, nanami is being asked the same questions except with actresses, one of them being you.

“fuck marry kill - utahime iori, _____ or shoko ieiri?!”

“marry _____, fuck utahime and kill shoko. goodnight.” he abruptly walks away, not even waiting for the interviewer to respond and leaves them flabbergasted.

a/n: feel like i rambled a lot in this one..oh well. also i’m not accepting requests for actor!nanami right now🤗🩷

#actor!nanami #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #nanami fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento fluff #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x you #kento nanami x y/n #kento nanami fluff

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tender-rosiey · 8 months

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“OH GOD! IT’S WALKING?!”

— baby’s first steps with gojo, nanami, geto, and sukuna (f!reader)

GOJO SATORU:

your daughter simply adores her father, and she is almost as energetic as him. you recall multiple times when he would pick her up smiling, and she would hold his face giggling and smiling just as much.

it’s such a cute scene, and you have at least 6 similar photos.

so yeah, it doesn’t surprise you that she keeps looking at the door, waiting for him to come back from his mission.

you’re both sitting on the ground, a little distance from the door. you lightly tickle her, “you wanna see dada?”

she looks up to you then looks to the door and murmurs, “dada.”

“he will be here soon; I promise,” you press a kiss to her cheek, and she squeals. soon, the door clicks and it slowly opens to reveal your dear husband who’s holding what you think are bags of sweets, toys, and souvenirs.

“the world’s best dad and husband is here!” he announces brightly. quickly, you get your phone out to record yet another cute moment between your daughter and your husband.

however, neither you nor your husband expected your little girl to stand up excitedly and try to waddle her way to her dad.

“dada! dada!” she says as she hurriedly stumbles and waddles her way to him.

satoru kneels down on the ground, opening his arms widely as he grins, “yes, dada! come to dada, baby!”

successfully, the girl stumbles into satoru’s arms and giggles as he peppers her face with kisses.

he looks up to you with a pout, shifting d/n into one arm, “excuse me, but I would like my two favorite girls to be in my arms, right now!”

you chuckle and settle into his embrace and he presses a kiss to the top of her head and your own.

d/n gives him a kiss—more like simply put her mouth on his cheek—and nuzzles into his chest. satoru grins before looking at you, “she is so cute!”

you quip with a big smile, “I got that on video!”

“you and your gorgeous mind,” he hums as he kisses your cheek.

NANAMI KENTO:

“kento, you’re going to grow grey hair early like this.”

honestly, you can’t blame him for worrying like this. you were finally going on vacation, so your husband wanted everything to be organized.

the last thing he needs is a headache after he finally got rid of the walking one (read: gojo).

he sits down, sighing, “I know; I just don’t want anything to go wrong.”

you chuckle, and settle down beside him, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, “don’t worry,” you say, “we checked everything over a million times. nothing will go wrong.”

nanami smiles tiredly before pulling you into a gentle kiss, “well, I guess you’re right,” he looks around for a moment, “where is d/n?”

“she is playing with her toys on the mat; why?”

“she is not on the mat.”

“she is not on the what?!” you yell, bolting out of your seat and frantically searching for her, “d/n, honey, where are you?!”

“y/n, calm down!” your husband tries to comfort you, “she is still in the house, so don’t stress about it; we will find her.”

as if on cue, a giggle and a coo are heard behind nanami. he turns to find the culprit, his 10 months old girl grinning. she squeals and tries to walk towards him, hands eagerly reaching out for him.

she is stumbling a bit, and her steps are clumsy, and nanami couldn’t have been prouder.

he smiles fondly, “good girl, d/n,” he opens his arms, encouraging, “you can do it.”

she flails her arms as she giggles, “da-dada!”

d/n finally reaches his leg and holds onto it for dear life. she starts swaying as she looks up at him, “dada!” he bends down to kiss the top of her head.

she hums happily, before waddling towards you, worried, “mama?”

you breathe a sigh of relief and hold her in your arms, “you got me worried, baby,” you stroke her hair and she nuzzles into your embrace, little hands gripping your shirt tightly.

nanami lets out a chuckle as he watches your daughter starts to fall asleep in your arms.

he moves to hug you two, and hums with content, “and you say that I am the worrywart.”

GETO SUGURU:

“y/n, what makes you so sure that they will start walking soon?” your husband says as he watches his two little girls play in the garden.

he already had nanako and mimiko, but god chose to grace him with his own pair of twins.

he couldn’t be happier, especially with way the twins both care for each other and beam whenever they see him.

he also adores seeing them play with you; it brings a type of serenity to his heart.

you chuckle, “call it a mother’s instincts.”

suguru rolls his eyes and pulls you by the waist, “you showing off, pretty?”

“nope! just asserting dominance.”

with a roll of his eyes, he gives you a peck on the nose. the both of you then settle down on the grass as well, quietly watching the girls try to chase—wait what chase?

suguru and you lock eyes, and he quickly scrambles to get the camera. meanwhile, you’re trying to encourage the girls to continue their walking, “who’s winning, girls?”

each one of the stumbling babies yells out a—supposedly—‘me!’. they‘re both squealing as they walk around.

soon enough, suguru makes an appearance and starts recording, “I am gonna get you!”

the girls squeal and try their best to run away from the big bad monster.

the very cute thing that even has suguru pausing in his chase is that when one of them falls, the other waits for her or tries to help her up.

of course, the latter mostly results in both of them falling on their small little bums. luckily, they clumsily stand up instead of crying their eyes out.

they get tired eventually though, so they waddle their way to you. both of them sit beside you and rest their heads on your lap.

suguru stands in front of you, hands on his hips, “you leaving me out of this group cuddle?”

your twins perk up and turn their heads to peak at him and they giggle when he pouts. still, they open their little arms for their dad to join the family hug, “dada! hug!”

RYOMEN SUKUNA:

your husband is not exactly the most enthusiastic father.

he wasn’t that affected by your son’s first word being dada, and a lot of things that you can’t be bothered to think about.

so yeah, you’re left with the role to be the encouraging parent, and to hype your son whenever he accomplishes something.

so obviously, your son adores you more than he does his father. however, there is no denying that sukuna’s genes are indeed strong.

despite the kid’s beaming smile, he could be choking a snake. it actually reminds you of that one hercules scene.

your son also has a quicker development than most kids, but it doesn’t lessen the excitement when he finally took his first steps.

you held onto sukuna’s arms, pointing at your boy, “sukuna, look, he is walking!”

“so?”

you pause then look at your husband, “what do you mean ‘so’?” you grin, “they’re his first steps, you silly goose!”

sukuna frowns, “I am not a silly goose,” he then rolls his eyes, “he was going to start walking sooner or later anyway, woman.”

you huff, “you’re no fun.”

however, you don’t get to dwell on it for much longer as you hear the scream of one of the servants. you and your husband are looking towards them, and—suffice to say—it’s a memorable scene.

your son, who just started walking, is somehow holding a wooden pickaxe and waddling his way behind the servant.

he is grinning and squealing too like he isn’t about to beat up an innocent person (it reminds you of something or rather someone).

the servant is surprisingly terrified form the kid as she screams, “my lady, please save me!”

you have no idea how a grown woman is terrified of a one year old, but you will give her the benefit of the doubt that he is, after all, the son of the king of curses.

you sigh with a chuckle and walk towards them, “on my way.”

the kid squeals, waddling quicker after the servant who’s about to shit her pants.

meanwhile, sukuna is smirking proudly as he watches his son, “now, that’s my kid.”

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saetoru · 8 months

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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ 4:08 AM — GOJO SATORU.

contents. fluff, established relationships, sleepy n cuddly toru :(, just needed to write this to cope with the 236 manga leaks i guess. i just love him tons sobs i need him happy and loved and peaceful

“hey,” you poke satoru’s chest, hearing a low groan rumble under your cheek, “toru?”

“hmm?” oh. he sounds a little tired—maybe you should let him sleep.

“you awake?” you ask anyway.

“am now,” he mumbles—well, he’s already awake, so you might as well indulge in it now. “need somethin’, sweetheart?”

“jus’ missed you is all,” you pout—that makes him grin despite the way he yawns, all wide and smooth even as he fights the sleep in his eyes. you feel just a bit guilty, reaching to cup his cheek and running a thumb over his eyelid carefully.

“yeah?” he chuckles quietly, “‘m right here. you still miss me?”

“yeah,” you whisper, “always miss you. even when you’re right here.”

satoru’s grinning into your cheek as he leans down and presses a wet kiss to the skin—he can’t possibly be mad that you’ve woken him so late. he can’t be mad when it’s you, and it’s him, and it’s each other.

sleep can wait, there’s always time for that later. but there’s never a moment where he wants to risk counting on later when it comes to you.

“what’d you miss about me?” he hums, nibbling on your earlobe as his head buries into your neck. you shift, letting his body tuck against yours as your arms wrap around him—he feels safe like this, somehow. infinity doesn’t make him feel nearly as secure as the way your arms do, tight and warm and made just for holding him.

“dunno,” you murmur, “everything.”

“love me that much?” he asks cheekily, “me sleeping right beside you isn’t enough?”

“no,” you huff, “you can’t pay attention to me in your sleep.”

“my needy baby,” he snickers, rubbing circles into the small of your back with his large palm. he’s warm against you—you can feel the rhythm of his heart as it beats against your body. he’s pressed so close to you, that not even air can slip through the cracks.

truthfully, you don’t know why you wake satoru. you don’t know why you can’t sleep—you just know that you need him. here. now. always. forever. more and more and more and even more.

“toru?” you ask quietly, making him hum as his eyes droop back shut slowly—he must really be tired.

you stare at him fondly, stroking his hair as he sighs happily at the feeling. and then you press a kiss to his forehead, to his cheek, to the corner of his eyes where they crinkle when he smiles, and to those lips of his that always find yours no matter how long it takes.

he always comes back to you. always. he never won’t—that much you trust.

“got somethin’ on your mind, baby?” he asks slowly, voice thick with sleep. you giggle, scratching at his scalp as he smiles lightly.

he dozing off—you watch him, hopelessly endeared.

“i love you,” you whisper, “need you to know that. love you so, so much. kay?”

he cracks an eye open—stares at you like you’re the reason his heart ever started beating, like you’re the only one that could ever command it to stop. every inch of his face is laced with love so gentle, you can see the way it makes his skin glow.

you love him. you’re sure he loves you. that’s all you need to know it’ll be fine. everything else is an afterthought—just as long as you have satoru.

“woke me just to confess your love for me?” he gasps, “you’re down bad. real, real bad. i must be a super handsome, totally awesome boyfriend. i do try,” he says cheekily.

you giggle, rolling your eyes as you pinch his cheek.

“be humble, you jerk,” you say exasperatedly.

it sounds more like you’re in love. too much fondness slipping into your voice that it might make your teeth hurt from how sweet. satoru’s always had a sweet tooth, though—he accepts your love graciously, like it’s never too much.

if fact, it might just not be enough. he needs more, more, more.

“can’t,” he says slowly, yawning again, “you waking me up just to love me is a bit ego boosting.”

“this was a mistake,” you scoff—its playful, it’s fond. it sounds like deeply falling headfirst.

“aw c’mon,” he pouts—and then he’s brushing his lips against your neck a he clings closer to you, curling into your body with his six-foot-something stature as you pull the blanket tighter around him, “love you too. what was it you said again? oh, right—so, so much.”

“good,” you hum, nodding in satisfaction. “you better.”

“i do,” he chuckles, “can i sleep now? or are we gonna start talking about all the things we love about each other? cause i can stay up to listen to that, of course.”

“go to sleep, you idiot,” you scoff.

he grins. you press one last kiss to his forehead as you count the soft breaths he takes while he falls back asleep.

you love him—it’s all you ever want to do.

i cried while writing this and i cried thinking about the leaks and i cried while reading the leaks and i cried and cried and i’m tired of crying. gege when i catch you gege 🔫

#teepods.writings #drabbles.#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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scuderiahoney · 4 months

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Be Brave

Oscar Piastri x reader

Masterlist

Summary: You’re a teacher, and someone’s had the brilliant idea to send your class full of 5 year olds to the McLaren Technology Centre. Chaos ensues. Oscar’s there to help.

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: none

a/n: this is not the angst I threatened or the fic from the dialogue poll I did, but a secret third thing: a request I finally got the motivation to finish after seeing cute pics of Oscar with kids. Enjoy!

In hindsight, whoever’s idea it was to bring a classroom of five year olds to the McLaren Technology Centre- an active car factory- has definitely never stepped foot in a classroom full of five years olds. You’re lucky- your students are quite well behaved, and you’ve got plenty of parent chaperones with you. It turns out that about half your class’ families seem to be McLaren fans. Half your students had showed up today in bright orange- papaya, one of them had corrected you. You’re not complaining- it makes them easier to spot.

The field trip has been fun. The kids are thrilled about everything. It’s just. Tiny hands, tiny humans, wandering through an active car factory? You’re on edge the whole time. You’re constantly scanning the class, counting to make sure you haven’t lost any students as the tour guide tries to explain mechanical engineering in words that 5 year olds will understand.

You breathe a mild sigh of relief when they bring you into a large, open conference room. They’re going to have someone come speak to the kids in a few minutes. While you have the chance, and a closed room with enough people to guard the exits, you stand in front of your class and tell them to go wild. Seventeen five year olds begin to run around the room. One 5 year old clings to your hand in the quietest corner of the room.

Sammy. He’s a quiet kid, not one for the chaos. He’s stuck to your side the whole morning, staring at everything with big eyes and jumping at all the loud noises. You relate to him more than you’d like to admit. Somehow, the quiet kid turned into a teacher. It seems almost hard to believe looking back, how painfully shy you were.

Sammy tugs on your hand and points at a large mural on one of the walls. “Who’s that?” He asks.

The room you’re in has the two current drivers plastered on the walls, larger than life. You look where he’s pointing and smile.

“That’s Oscar Piastri,” you say, extending the syllables for him.

“Os-car Pi-as-tri,” he sounds out. “That’s my dad’s favorite driver.”

You smile. “Wanna know a secret?” He nods, and so you whisper loudly. “He’s my favorite too.”

Sammy giggles. “Oscar Piastri.”

“He says it better than most of the broadcasters, I think,” says someone behind you.

You turn and come face to face with none other than Oscar Piastri. You hope your shock isn’t too obvious, and you try to control your wide eyes. They’d said someone from the team was going to come talk to your kids- you hadn’t expected it to be one of the drivers. You smile politely as you feel Sammy step behind your legs.

“Hi. Sorry about the…” you wave your hand in the general direction of the children running around behind you. “If they didn’t get some excercise they were never going to make it through the rest of the day.”

“No worries,” Oscar says, smiling brightly. He looks at Sammy where he’s hiding behind you. “Not this guy, though?”

“No, Sammy here is very well behaved and polite,” you say proudly, before whispering, “and quite shy.”

Oscar nods in understanding. His face has gone soft. You weren’t lying when you said he was your favorite, and it only increases with the way he looks at the five year old so fondly. You think maybe Oscar understands Sammy all too well. You turn over your shoulder to look at the little boy.

“Sammy, should we practice being big and brave and introducing ourselves?” You ask. He frowns slightly but nods anyways. “We’ll do it together, okay?”

He nods again and steps out from behind your legs. You stand up straight, and he follows suit. Then you stick your hand out to shake Oscar’s as you introduce yourself.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” he says, repeating your name back to you. “I’m Oscar.”

Sammy takes a tentative step forward and sticks his tiny hand out. You drop back just a bit and pull your phone from your pocket, giving Oscar a questioning glance and making a camera sort of motion with your hands. He nods eagerly before he crouches down to Sammy’s level.

“My name is Samuel,” he says, as he shakes Oscar’s hand. “But you can call me Sammy.”

You hide an endeared laugh behind your hand and snap a picture of the two of them. You know his parents will be thrilled.

“Hi, Sammy,” Oscar says sweetly. “My name is Oscar. It’s very nice to meet you.”

“You’re my dad’s favorite driver,” Sammy says. “And my teacher’s favorite driver. So I think you’re my favorite, too. Os-car Pi-as-tri.”

You stare down at him with wide eyes, suddenly feeling betrayed by your favorite student. Your face grows warm, but Oscar just laughs lightly and smiles up at you.

“Is that so?” He says, turning back to Sammy. “I’m honored.”

He stands back up, and Sammy goes back to clinging to your side. There’s a bright smile on Oscar’s face. You know yours matches it.

“So, are you our guest speaker?” You ask, trying to will your face to cool down.

He nods eagerly, eyes darting around the room, watching kids run everywhere. One of them bumps into the back of your legs and squeaks out a quick apology before running away again. He laughs lightly, hiding it behind his hand.

“Hopefully Lando and I can keep them entertained,” he says.

“Oh, they’ll be fine, they’ll sit quietly when I ask them to,” you say.

He gives you an uncertain look, a soft smirk on his lips. You laugh, hoping it’s not painfully obvious how taken you are with him. He’s been your favorite driver because of his level head and dry humor, but standing in front of him you can’t help but notice how cute he is. Before he can say anything in response and challenge your ability to control your class, Lando comes stumbling into the room.

“Okay, now this is my kinda school trip,” he says, an impressed grin on his lips. He elbows Oscar. “This was me as a kid.”

Oscar gestures towards Sammy, still tucked against your leg. “This was me, I think.”

Lando laughs and nods. He tilts his head at you, and you stick your hand out once again and introduce yourself. Sammy follows suit. Lando bends to shake the five year olds hand, giving both you and him an impressed smile.

“Sammy’s working on being big and brave and introducing himself,” Oscar says.

“Well he’s doing a great job,” Lando says with an approving nod.

“He’s got a great teacher,” Oscar says, grinning at you.

With that, your face grows hot again. You clear your throat and turn over your shoulder to look at the class. They’re beginning to slow just slightly. Perfect timing.

You clap your hands, and each of them skids to a stop, turning to look at you. “Okay, friends! Come sit up here, we have some very special guest speakers.”

The children all make their way to the front of the room, sitting down on the carpet in a semicircle. Even Sammy wanders away, taking a seat near the back. You turn back to Oscar and Lando, who both have impressed looks on their faces.

“I think we need you to run our meetings,” Oscar says, brows raised.

“Oh, if you give them permission to go crazy consistently when they need it, they’ll listen when you tell them it’s time to be calm,” you say with a shrug. “My mum was a teacher, too, she taught me that.”

“Yeah, if Zak let me be a menace before meetings I’d have a lot easier time sitting through them,” Lando agrees. “Alright, you little muppets!”

He steps in front of the class. Oscar gives you an exasperated smile, like you’re both sharing a moment of understanding. Maybe Lando’s still a 5 year old at heart. You laugh and step back with the chaperones to watch them speak as Oscar follows Lando’s lead. It’s fun to watch. You realize they couldn’t have picked better speakers.

Some of the kids recognize the drivers, but even the ones who don’t are enamored once they find out that these guys drive race cars for a living. You snap lots of pictures of your students staring up at them with wide grins. Lando continues to call them muppets, earning laughs each time. Oscar gets down on their level and uses a little model of the car to explain the aerodynamics. They give a horrible demonstration of slipstream, with Lando pretending to drive and Oscar pretending to be the air. Then, at the end, they open it up for questions. Eighteen tiny hands fly up into the air.

“Do you speed when you drive a normal car?” One of them asks.

“Never,” Lando lies.

“D’you ever fight with other drivers?” Another student asks.

“We try to leave what happens in the race on the track,” Oscar answers. “We’re all quite nice to each other outside of the races, actually.”

Lando shrugs and shakes his hand from side to side. A few of the kids catch on and laugh.

Sammy is sitting in the back of the group, his hand raised. He’s not waving it around, not bouncing up and down. But you watch Oscar scan the group, see him spot the tiny hand anyways.

“Sammy,” he calls out. “What’s your question?”

Sammy looks shocked to have been called on, but he clears his throat and speaks up. “What’s your favorite color?”

The grin that breaks across Oscar’s face is endearing. Lando smiles, too, presses his hand to his chest. You wait for the canned answer- papaya, you think.

“Mine’s bright green,” Lando says.

Oscar nods. “Mine is blue. What’s yours?”

“Mine is blue too,” Sammy answers.

“Good taste.” Oscar says. He exchanges a grin with you. You smile proudly at Sammy, so happy to see him step out of his shell just a bit.

The next student who gets called on says, “my mum told me to ask if you’re single,” and you clap your hands and walk towards the front.

“Okay, friends, I think Oscar and Lando have given us enough of their time,” you say. “Can we all say a big thank you?”

A chorus of little voices calls out varying forms of thank you. One of them screams it, and Lando winces. Oscar’s cheeks are pink, probably from the student asking about his relationship status. Is it bad that you almost wanted him to answer? You’re being ridiculous, you know. But his flushed face is cute, and you can’t help but smile at him.

You shake their hands one more time before they leave. “Thanks again. You’ve really just made their days.”

“We were happy to,” Oscar says.

“Yeah, you’ve got a good group of kids,” Lando agrees.

“And they’ve got a good teacher,” Oscar repeats his earlier comment.

You laugh, feeling your face grow hot. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

Oscar goes to say something else, but someone leans in through the door and calls out to him and Lando. He smiles sheepishly as Lando urges him towards the exit, tugging on his shirt.

“It was nice meeting you!” Oscar calls out before he disappears through the doors.

You turn back to your class and refocus. It’s time to move on to lunch, which is always the worst part of any field trip. Someone comes by to bring your group to the cafeteria. Your field trip worst nightmare- a large, open room full of people. You make sure all the chaperones are set with their groups and head off.

It goes fine. At first. You get the kids settled at tables and do a quick head count. Everyone’s there. They provide lunch for the kids, so you help to hand them out to everyone. Eighteen five year olds sit quietly, eat sandwiches and drink juice. You breath a little sigh of relief.

Then the kids all decide they need to go to the bathroom. You split them up, send them with chaperones in groups. You stay back at the tables with the ones who say they don’t need to go, knowing full well that in ten minutes they’ll be whining for the restroom. You clean up spilled apple juice and eat half your lunch. The bathroom groups come back one by one. Seventeen five year olds sit down at the tables.

And no, that can’t be right. You count again. Seventeen. One more time- seventeen. There’s an empty seat. You turn to the nearest chaperone, who also has a panicked look on his face.

“Sammy,” he says, eyes wide. “He was in my bathroom group, I swore he came back with us-“

You can’t panic. You turn to the nearest McLaren employee and tell them the situation. The look on her face tells you she’s going to panic, so you take control of the situation. You ask her to get everyone on the lookout for him, to page him over the speakers. Then you turn to your class.

“Friends,” you say, loudly. “Has anyone seen Sammy?”

Casey, one of the louder boys, raises his hand. “He stopped to tie his shoes when we were coming back.”

You could strangle the parent for not noticing, for not keeping an eye on the kids, but you don’t have time for that. At the very least, you have a starting point. You delegate a couple chaperones to stay with the kids in the cafeteria, and enlist a couple others to help you look. Panic is itching at the back of your brain, but you keep it tamped down. You’ll find him, and then you’ll freak out about it.

You split up, wandering the halls and asking everyone if they’ve seen a shy five year old with dark hair. They all tell you no, but that they’ll keep their eyes peeled. You check around corners, behind doors, in conference rooms and offices. You think you accidentally interrupt what was likely a very important meeting, though when you explain you’re looking for a missing child the men in suits all seem to understand.

The longer it goes on, the more sick to your stomach you feel. It’s Sammy. He got separated from his group and probably panicked just like you want to do now. He could be anywhere. He’s tiny, he could be hiding somewhere you’d never even think to look. His parents are going to kill you-

Oscar calls your name. It’s probably odd that you already recognize his voice, but you don’t have time to worry about that. You turn to look at him, and relief washes over you. He’s standing at the end of the hallway, his hand holding onto Sammy’s. You want to march down the hallway to them, but instead you collapse against one of the walls and press your hand to your mouth. Oscar pulls him towards you.

“I found him wandering in the hallway upstairs,” Oscar says. “He said he got lost.”

You nod, crouching down to Sammy’s level. He hides behind Oscar’s legs slightly.

“You’re not in trouble,” you say. “It’s okay. You found a helper, right? We always say that, look for the helpers. It’s okay! But next time you stop to tie your shoe-“ Oscar muffles a laugh behind his hand at that. “-you tell a grown up, okay?”

Sammy nods solemnly. You stand back up.

“Thank you,” you say to Oscar. “I owe you one, big time.”

“No worries,” he says, shrugging. “Knew you must be freaking out, so.”

You reach for Sammy’s hand and head for the cafeteria. To your surprise, Oscar follows. You’re not complaining.

“I’ve only been teaching for a year,” you explain, though you doubt he cares. The nervous energy needs to go somewhere, you suppose. “And I still feel brand new, you know? And school trips- don’t even get me started.”

Oscar laughs. “But field trips were the best part of school.”

“I lost a five year old in a car factory,” you say dryly. “Field trips are much less fun as a teacher.”

Oscar nods in understanding, trying and failing to hide his laughter. You come into view of the cafeteria and start counting heads. There are seventeen other 5 year olds still sitting at the tables. Sammy joins them, and you breathe a sigh of relief. Oscar does too. You pull out your phone and call the other chaperoned who went off to look, and tell them to head back to the cafeteria. With any luck, you might still be able to finish the tour.

“He’s a good kid,” Oscar says fondly, and you smile.

“He’s my favorite,” you admit. “I was a shy kid, too.”

Oscar leaves soon after that with a soft smile and an even softer goodbye. You wish he was the one leading the tour, but you know that would never happen. You’re lucky enough to have had the chance to meet him. He’s the same age as you, and he’s a world famous racecar driver. He’s probably already forgotten your name.

The rest of the tour is uneventful. None of your students wander off, and all of them are well behaved. They spot photos of Oscar and Lando in the halls and point excitedly at them, calling out their names. Finally, you’re brought out onto the lawn near the lake, and you give the kids a few minutes to play in the grass. You have the strong urge to lay down on the lawn and let them run until they all pass out. They have boundless energy, but you’re exhausted.

Someone nudges your arm lightly. You turn, expecting it to be a kid or a chaperone, but you come face to face with Oscar again.

“Oh god, did I lose another one?” You ask frantically.

He laughs. “No, no! Just came by to say goodbye.”

“Oh,” you say in understanding. “Thanks again, you know, for finding Sammy and for talking to the kids. I don’t think they’re gonna stop talking about this for ages.”

Oscar’s cheeks are flushed. “I’m glad they had a good time.”

You nod. “I did too, even with all the chaos. You have a really cool job, you know?”

He shrugs. “Not as important as yours. Tiny minds, shaping the future, you know.”

You let out a puff of air. “Sometimes it feels like I’m just struggling to keep the tiny humans alive, let alone teach them anything.”

He’s staring at you with this warm look on his face. You like his smile. There’s something comforting about it.

“Nah, I see the way they look at you. And Sammy introduced himself, you taught him that,” Oscar says. “That’s way more important than shapes or letters.”

Your face grows even hotter. “Thanks, Oscar.”

You see the bus pulling up the road out of the corner of your eye. About time to round the kids up. You turn towards your class, who are running around on the grass.

“Well, I’ve got to get them rounded up to go back, so unless you want to get mobbed by tiny humans you might want to make a run for it,” you say. “They’re distracted now, but they’ve been talking about you all afternoon.”

Oscar laughs brightly. “Yeah. I’ll head out. Um- d’you maybe-“ he pauses, and when you turn to him he shakes his head. “Sorry. Maybe I need to go back to school. Just. Have a good rest of your day. It was lovely meeting you.”

“You too,” you say warmly. “Thanks again.”

He disappears and you watch him go. You wonder what he was going to say- it sounded an awful lot like a question. But he’s gone now, and you’ll probably never see him again, so you try and let it go. By the time you get your class back to the school, it’s almost time for pickup. They’re all half asleep at their desks, absolutely worn out. Parents come by one by one to pick them up, and when Sammy’s dad shows up, you pull him aside and explain everything, the worst feeling in your stomach.

He laughs and shakes his head. “He does that to us all the time. We’ll be on a walk and he just- stops. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

Sammy wanders over as you’re still processing the fact that his dad isn’t mad. “Guess who I met?” He says, staring up at his dad with a wide grin.

“Who?” His dad asks.

“Os-car Pi-as-tri,” Sammy says.

“That’s actually true,” you chime in. “I have the pictures to prove it.”

His dad looks at you with wide eyes. “If you’d have led with that, I wouldn’t have even heard you when you said he got lost.”

Despite what Sammy’s dad said, you toss and turn all night. Thankfully, it’s a Friday, so you don’t have to teach the next day. Every time you close your eyes you think of seventeen tiny heads, and one missing, and you feel sick to your stomach again. When you finally do fall asleep, you dream of children disappearing and warm brown eyes paired with an Australian accent. You spend the weekend trying to get your mind off of all of it.

On Monday, Sammy’s mother brings him into the classroom earlier than normal. You’re still turning on the lights and straightening things when they come in. He’s holding a little bouquet of flowers, and your heart melts.

“Sammy wanted to apologize for getting lost,” his mother says. “We know you must’ve been very worried.”

You let out a breath. “Thank you, Sammy.”

He nods, and you take the flowers from him. Then he scurries away to the play area.

“It’s okay,” his mother says. “Peter said you were really beating yourself up over it.”

You shrug. “It’s my worst fear, you know? I hate school trips.”

She laughs. “You know, he really likes you. We were worried, with how quiet he is, that he’d hate school. But you make it fun for him. So thank you.”

You smile, unsure of what to say in response other than, “thank you.”

You turn to your desk to find a vase or a cup for the bouquet, and that’s when you see the other flowers. A mix of white peonies and white roses and greenery, with little orange flowers stuck between all of them. You stop in your tracks. Behind you, Sammy’s mother laughs.

“Got a secret admirer?”

You shake your head uncertainly. You’re not sure how anyone even got flowers into your classroom this early on a Monday. But there they are, sitting proud and pretty. There’s a note tucked into the stems with your name on it, and so you pull the little envelope out and open it.

Hi,

I hope you had a lovely time at the MTC. I really enjoyed meeting you. I’d love to take you out for dinner sometime. Hope this isn’t too forward,

Oscar

His number is written below. You let out a squeak. You can tell she wants to look over your shoulder or ask who it’s from, but she bites her tongue. Sammy’s your favorite student, and his parents are up there, too. But this feels like too much to share with a parent, so you shove the note in your pocket.

“Just a friend,” you lie.

“How sweet,” she says, nodding. “Well, I’d better be off. I’ll take Sammy out to the playground. We just wanted to stop in and chat.”

“Thank you,” you say, turning to her with a smile. “And sorry. Again.”

She gives you an amused smile. “It’s okay.”

You carry the note around in your pocket with you the whole day, unsure of what to do about it. Of course, all your students notice the flowers, and they tell all their friends at lunch, who then tell all their teachers. Suddenly everyone seems to need to borrow something from you, sticking their heads into your classroom and just then noticing the flowers. How pretty! Beautiful! Who are they from? You tell them all the same thing. A friend. It’s only when your favorite coworker, Maggie, comes into your classroom later that you finally tell someone.

The kids have all gone home for the day, and you’re cleaning up the last bits of paper from your class activity. She walks in and beelines for the bouquet on the desk.

“Okay, I have a theory,” she says.

“And what’s that?” You ask.

“Orange flowers,” she says. “Someone from your trip on Friday.”

“Papaya,” you correct softly.

“Huh?”

“They call it papaya, not orange,” you say. She gives you a look, one brow raised. “I know. I…”

You dig the envelope out of your pocket and throw it to her. She opens it and gasps, sinking down in your desk chair. She must reread it five times, letting out giddy noises.

“So when are you getting dinner?” She asks.

“I haven’t texted him yet,” you admit.

She stares at you with wide eyes. “He’s your favorite driver and he gave you his number and you didn’t text him?”

“That’s the thing though, Mags,” you say with a sigh. You lean against one of the desks. “He’s an F1 driver. I’m… me.”

“Yeah, and he liked you enough to send flowers to your classroom.”

“It’s not that, it’s…” you shrug. “Those guys date supermodels and actresses and pro athletes. I’m… a teacher.”

“Babe, if you don’t text him you’ll regret it,” she says. “Big time. Just give him a shot.”

You take your flowers home with you, placing them carefully in the passenger seat of your car. You set them on your kitchen counter. They oddly feel like they belong there, like that’s what the room has been missing, though you didn’t know it before. And as you sit there and eat dinner, you take out your phone and type in a new number.

…..

It takes a while for your schedules to line up, but when they finally do, you find that Oscar’s a fun person to go on a date with. Fun might be an understatement, actually. You’ve never had a better time on a date.

You’ve been texting since the day he sent you the flowers, back and forth trying to coordinate a date at first. And then it turned into little funny texts, photos of things throughout your days that made you both smile. You update him on your class, he tells you what chaos Lando’s been causing. He sends memes, and you send him ones back. By the time you actually see him in person again, it’s like you already know him.

You’d been worried that a date with someone like him was going to be a fancy restaurant that you would feel out of place at. But he suggests a little hole in the wall pub that he says is his favorite, and you eagerly agree. You meet him there in a casual outfit, jeans and a cute sweater. He’s dressed in jeans and a sweater too, his hair adorably messy. He has that same warm smile on his face.

The two of you sit and order, and any awkwardness you’d expected just isn’t there. It’s like you’re two old friends, already comfortable with each other. He jokes with you, and you match his dry humor step for step. He’s the only person you’ve ever been on a date with who doesn’t seem to bore of your stories about 5 year olds. His knee knocks against yours under the table, and you don’t pull away. You find yourself leaning closer, actually. You’re longing to reach across the table, to feel his skin against yours.

You look around later and realize it’s been quite a while since the two of you sat down. The restaurant is starting to empty out. Oscar seems to notice the same, and reluctantly asks for the bill, refusing when you try to pay for your own. You both stand up from the table and head for the door. You stop just outside, breathing in the cool night air.

He nods towards a nearby park. “Wanna take a walk?”

You definitely aren’t ready to say goodbye, so you agree. He sees you shiver slightly, and within seconds he drapes his jacket over your shoulders. It’s warm, like him, and it smells like him too. You smile bashfully up at him as you shove your arms through the sleeves. When your hand pops out, he wastes no time in linking your fingers together. You bite back a gasp.

His hand is warm against yours. It sends a shiver up your spine. You hold on tight to him and hope your palm isn’t sweaty.

He turns to look at you. “I had a really good time tonight.”

You smile. “Me too.”

“I was thinking, wondering I guess,” he says, “If you’d maybe want to do this again?”

You slow to a stop under a streetlight. He follows suit. You press your eyes shut.

“Oscar, I… I had a really good time. And I really like you,” you tell him. “But you’re world famous and I’m just me. I just don’t know…”

He squeezes your hand. “We can take it slow.”

You sigh and open your eyes to look at him. The fluorescent light shines off his fluffy hair and his cheekbones. He has a hopeful look in his eye that you’d hate to rid him of.

“You make me feel grounded,” he says. Your heart twists in your chest. “You have since that day at the MTC. You’ve just got this calming presence. And I think you’re funny, and pretty, and- yeah.”

“You think I’m pretty?” You tease.

He blushes. “Shut up.”

It’s scary, really, to think about. You want to try but he’s a bit intimidating, no matter how well you get along. And the attention that will come from dating him is even scarier. But you think of Sammy, hiding behind your legs, and how you’re trying to teach your students to be big and brave, and how you should try that, too.

You laugh and squeeze his hand. “I think you’re pretty too,” you admit, just to watch his cheeks grow redder. A sheepish smile crosses his lips, and he rolls his eyes playfully. “And kind, and funny. So yeah. We should do this again.”

“Cool,” Oscar says.

“Cool,” you agree.

Then he kisses you under the streetlamp, his hand still linked with yours. And yeah, you could get used to this.

…..

Two months later, when Sammy comes into class, he points an excited finger at you.

“I saw you on TV!” He squeaks.

You laugh. “Did you?”

He nods assertively. “My mum said I was probably wrong, but I know it was you. You were holding hands with Os-car Pi-as-tri.”

You laugh and put a finger to your lips. He takes the hint, but he laughs the whole way to his seat. You think it might be time to talk to Oscar about going public with your relationship. After all, if the five year olds are catching on, the adults will be soon, too.

When your students find out, they beg you to take them to a race. You think back to the McLaren field trip and decide you’re never, ever taking eighteen 5 year olds anywhere near a race track. That would be bad for everyone’s health. But when Sammy shows up as a grid kid at the next British Grand Prix, that’s all on Oscar. It’s definitely not because he’s your favorite student.

Okay, maybe it is.

a/n: my lovely 🐈❤️‍🩹 anon sent me a photo of Oscar with a grid kid & said: Oscar and Sammy. Please look at this photo I screamed over it. can imagine teacher!reader standing off to the side trying not to cry over how cute Oscar is tbh. anyways thanks for reading!!

taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan

#Oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri oneshot #oscar piastri fanfic #Oscar piastri fluff #formula one fluff #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 fanfic #formula one x reader #formual one oneshot #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #honeywrites #op81

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nanaslutt · 7 months

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omg can u imagine gojo being so obsessed with ur pussy lips and before seggs he makes u spread urself for him like he’s the pussy inspector 😵‍💫😵‍💫 or like makes u touch urself and spread ur legs/lips rly wide so he can watch

i can imagine and i am imagining and i will continue to imagine

nonnie you are BRILLIANT<3

contains: fem reader, pussy inspection, masturbation (gojo & reader), he guides you, you’re in front of a mirror, he’s obsessed with your cunt, you finger yourself together, so much praise like so much, dirty talk, he talks to ur pussy, pretty soft i won’t lie~

MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

“toru, this ‘s so embarrassing.” your mumbling so quiet he can barely hear, face burning under his scrutinizing gaze with his eyes that can literally see everything

“don’t be embarrassed baby, your little pussy is so pretty,” he assures you, he currently has you on your back, thighs resting over his thicker ones as he’s between your thighs, sitting back on his heels, lengthy cock in hand, “you should wanna show her off,” he smiles sincerely at you

your hands are on the underside of your thighs, holding your pussy lips open for him to get a better veiw,

“you sure ur not jus’ pretending to be embarrassed cutie? little hole is squeezing around nothing down here when i talk to you,” his free hand coming to aid you in holding yourself open, pulling back the hood of your clit to get a closer look at your swollen bud,

“oh fuck,” he laughs, watching it twitch under his watchful stare, “want you to rub your clit a little for me pretty girl, can you do that?” he smiles fondly, eyebrows raising when he looks at you,

“o-okay,” you whimper, he moves his hand from the hood of your clit down to your thigh, rubbing comforting patterns into the skin there

you let one of the hands that was holding your cunt open come around your body and slide down your pelvis, tip of your middle finger coming in contact with your clit, legs trying to squeeze shut around him at the stimulation

“gotta keep ‘em open so i can see okay?” he says, emphasizing his point by using his strong grip to keep your leg in place,

“show me how you touch yourself when your alone.” he bites his lip, watching you look anywhere but his eyes that are trying to make contact with your own as you whimper out at his request,

dipping your finger down to your entrance to gather some of the slick there, you drag your finger back up to your clit and start rubbing quick circles into the angry bud,

not an inch of your movements are being overlooked by his crystaline eyes, he slowly starts to rub his own cock while he watches you, using his dripping pre to lubricate his strokes, jaw dropping in a half smile as he watches your eyes roll to the back of your head

a second finger joining the first in rubbing your clit, wetness echoing in the room,

“tell me how it feels,” he’s breathing heavily, focusing on his tip, watching you try to put your pleasure into words for him,

“feels so good, makes my tummy feel all hot,” you pause to gasp, “rubbing it d-directly like t-this is so intense.” you finish, panting in short breaths, finding a good rhythm, one that makes your toes curl,

“oh fuck, i bet it is, looks like it feels so good,” he shakes his head in disbelief, huffing out a half laugh-half moan when he picks up the ministrations on his cock,

reaching his hand back down to your pussy and teasing the tip of his finger in your hole, twisting his palm so it’s facing the ceiling, moaning at the feeling of how warm and wet you feel when he slips it deeper, before pulling out completely

“can you imagine how this feels around my cock?” he asked, watching you scrunch your cute little eyebrows together in pleasure,

“stop for a second.” he says, letting go of his grip on his cock and letting it bob in the air, you look up him confused, barely having time to register the change in position, he picks you up so you’re sitting on the edge of the bed on his lap, facing the mirrored closet, feet perched on the bed by your ass, giving you both a great veiw of your pussy all spread out, his broad chest flexing against your back, feet firmly on the ground,

“gimmie ur hand sweetie,” he speaks, letting him take your hand in his, he places his palm on the back of your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours before guiding your hand between your legs,

unlocking your finger after he presses you palm over your dripping cunt, his chest vibrates against your back when he speaks, “put two fingers inside yourself,” he requests, “slowly, really feel how soft and wet you feel.” he instructs, hand opting to hold your thigh open for now while he watches your every moment through the mirror,

you dip the tips of your fingers inside your hole, rubbing the wetness on the length of your digits before slowly pressing deeper into yourself, just like satoru asked, your head falling back against his shoulder in a moan when your cunt swallows up your fingers to the hilt, palm pressed firmly against your clit,

“good girl” he draws out, groaning as he thrusts his hips shallowly against you, cock pressed snugly between your lower back and his abs, relishing in the friction,

“feel how good that feels?” he asks, hand he had resting on your thigh coming down to your cunt, teasing the space under where your fingers are currently stuffed in your hole, you whimper out an ‘uh-huh’ while nodding, “that’s what my cock feels every time i’m inside of you.”

his thick fingers slowly joining yours inside your cunt, pushing them in with a little resistance as you gasp, eyes shooting open and head tipping forward to watch his ministrations in the mirror, “fuck! s-satoru!” you moan at the stretch

your cunt and his dick alike throb at the veiw of his fingers along with your own stuffed inside you, “this pussy is so fucking good to me you know that? he whispers into your ear, keeping eye contact with you in the mirror,

starting to pump all four of your fingers together in and out of your gushing pussy, forcing your fingers to curl with his each time he fucks them into you, putting the most mind numbing pressure on your gspot

“always squeezes my cock so good, just like she’s doin to our fingers now.” his mouth is still pressed to your ear, hot breath sending goosebumps all over your body,

“touch your clit, pay attention to how tight she gets when you do that,” he instructs

shaky hand coming down to rub your puffy nub, letting out a long moan of his name at the sensation of your clit getting stimulated along with your gspot being pounded into, thanks to him picking up the pace,

basically holding hands with him inside of you as your fingers tangle and curl together, cum sliding down between your ass as you work together to bring you to your rapidly approaching orgasm,

“fuck you felt that right?” he moans breathlessly into the shell of your ear, “felt how much tighter she got?” humming sounds of approval into the side of your face as the coil in your tummy screws impossibly tighter,

“and when you cum it makes my cock feel even better, try to focus on that, really wan’ you to understand how good you make me feel.” he enlightens you, staring between your pretty face twisting in pleasure and your messy cunt crying out for him as your thrown into your orgasm,

hunching over when the first wave hits you, remembering satoru’s words and trying to focus on how your pussy clenches and spasms around your fingers, and how it feels

his hips fucking up into your back, feeling sympathetic pleasure himself watching your intense orgasm wrack your body with tremors,

whimpers of his name and curses filling the air as your cum drips around both of your digits, letting you catch your breath for a second before pulling out his fingers, yours following shortly after, as he leaves sweet kisses on your sensitive neck.

“did such a good job, felt nice when you squeezed all tight on ur fingers when you came, right?” he asked, eyes already on yours when you came to, smiling and nodding at him through the mirror, affirming his words,

“good, now i wanna feel that same thing around my cock, and i want you to squirt for me while we’re at it,” he leaves one final kiss on your cheek, hearts practically in your eyes as he gets you in position for the long and messy night you’re about to experience.

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3seven-gambler · 1 month

Text

#⌁꒰You using theiɾ shiɾt ; JJK men꒱

⋆ word count: 1276 ⋆ genre: fluff, suggestive. ⋆ includes: gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, higuruma hiromi, toji fushiguro. no specified pronouns. ⋆ a/n: this is my first writing in months, so bear with me pls(╥﹏╥) -~~~reminder that english is not my first language~~~

࿐♡Ꮐꮻꭻꮻ Ꮪꭺꭲꮻꭱꮜ

Gojo had -surprisingly- woken up before you after a rough night you both share. He put on some sweatpants and made his way into the kitchen, deciding on preparing breakfast for both of you. While he was making your favorite dish, he sensed a presence behind him.

-"Good morning, beautiful" he said while turning around to face you. -"How's my princess/prince doing?" he then took complete notice of your choice of clothing that morning, this being one of his shirts, which showed just enough of your body for him to go feral. He could see all the marks he had left the night before all over your tights, as well as some of the marks in your collarbones, marks for only him to see (along with some others that might be for the public eye).

-"Seems you like what you see" you said with a sleepy but teasing voice.

Satoru kept looking at you for a few more seconds. He dropped what he was doing and walked over you, grabbing your face softly with both of his hands. -"You look stunning" he said with a soft smile while giving you small pecks all over your face, and then he gave you a grin -"Maybe I should fuck you more often~"

-"Gojo this is the fifth time we do it in less than two days-"

࿐♡Ꮐꭼꭲꮻ Ꮪꮜꮐꮜꭱꮜ

Geto was reading a book while laying on the bed of your shared bedroom. He was patiently waiting for you to come out of the shower so both of you could cuddle for a while before preparing dinner.

-"Hey, sorry for making you wait" You suddenly say while opening the bathroom door.

Suguru drifts his eyes from the book to your figure, watching as you grab one of his shirts to put above your breath taking body.

-"Don't worry, my love, I don't mind waiting for you." He said while staring at you.

-"Is something wrong?" You said as you take notice of his staring.

-"Mh, no, not at all." He said smiling fondly at you.

You crawl into the bed and Geto leaves the book by his side, turning your way to hold you. You notice how he still has his eyes glued to you. Before you could ask again, he spoke.

-"Maybe I should toss all of your clothes and make you wear mine." he said while softly while caressing your tights. -"But at the same time, if you wear my clothes everyday, I don't think I could hold myself..."

࿐♡Nꭺɴꭺꮇꮖ Ꮶꭼɴꭲꮻ

For Nanami's dislike, he had to go home later than usual. It was Friday, meaning that you and him were going to spend time together. Every weekend you would spend time in each other's houses, and this time it was your turn to stay in Kento's house. He phoned you earlier, telling you that he was going to be late and saying how sorry he was. You brushed him off saying it was ok, that you would make dinner alone for you both. He told you it wasn't necessary, that he could grab some food on his way home but you insisted of making it yourself.

Later on, you went to his house. Opening the door with a spare key he had given you a while ago, you made your way inside. Before starting to cook, you went into Kento's bedroom to get change into more comfortable clothes, but noticed that you haven't brought your pajamas.

-"Oh, what should I use then?" you asked to yourself. You looked up and saw a pile of old shirts that your boyfriend usually uses in the comfort of his house. You smiled mischievously and grabbed the one he uses the most, and then you were ready to start making his favorite dish.

A few hours later, when dinner was almost done, you heard some noise coming from the front door. -"Y/N, I'm here" you heard your beloveds voice.

-"Kento! Hi! I'm in the kitchen!" You said happily.

Nanami quickly made his way into his kitchen where he was greeted not only with an amazing smell coming from the oven but with the most stunning view he had been waiting to see all day. You, all cute in his shirt. Wait, his shirt?

You took notice of this and said -"I'm sorry for this." You said grabbing a bit of the shirt -"I forgot my pajamas at my place so..." You couldn't finish since Kento's lips were on yours.

-"Move in with me." He says in a pleading yet mandatory way.

࿐♡ꮋꮖꮐꮜꭱꮜꮇꭺ ꮋꮖꭱꮻꮇꮖ

It was late. As it usually happends. And he knew. But he couldn't do much about it. Work has been more troublesome these recent weeks, and all Higuruma could think about was coming home to you. He was more than thankful to have found someone as patient as you, since this is not the first time he comes home late. As he goes inside the house, he calls your name, quickly making his way to the living room. His anxiousness calms down when he sees your angelic sleeping form, hugging a pillow as if your life depended on that. He lets out a soft chuckle and before waking you up he takes full notice of what you were wearing.

-"Of course you grabbed one of my shirts" he said smiling to himself. It isn't the first time he sees you in one, since you had asked him a few times before for his permission to wear one. But every time he sees you wearing his clothes, he gets giddy with excitement.

-"Hmm? Hiro?" You said almost in a whisper.

-"Hello baby, I'm home" He said sitting by your side.

You let go of the pillow you were hugging before and you sat on Higuruma's lap, hugging him instead.

-"I missed you" you said hiding your face against his chest.

-"I missed you too sweety, you have no idea how much I did" he said hugging you back.

࿐♡Ꭲꮻꭻꮖ 𝖥ꮜꮪꮋꮖꮐꮜꭱꮻ

He told you not to worry about the rain, since he was sure that it wasn't going to drop. The both of you had planned to go out on a date, but it seems that the weather had other plans for you.

-"I'm never trusting you with this again!" You said while running to his place.

All he could do was laugh. When you were both at the entrance of his flat he said -" 's just water, sweetheart"

-"I know that! But I'm all soaked wet and cold!" You said pouting.

-"Mhhm? Is that so?~" he purred into your ear -"I think I can help with that~"

You just push him away from you -"You can help me by giving my dry clothes" you said crossing your arms.

-"Whatever... You can grab something from there" he said pointing to his bedroom.

You went on and opened the wardrobe door. You were about to grab just one of his regular black t-shirt when you notice a white shirt hanging out there, being one of the only -if not the only- white piece of clothing there. You quickly changed and went over where your boyfriend was.

-"Are you going to take a bath?" You asked to get his attention.

-"Yeah, wanna jo-" he stopped talking as soon as he saw you -"Where did you find that?"

-"There" you said pointing to his bedroom as he had done before. -"Do I look good?" You said playfully smiling.

Toji felt no shame as he scanned you from head to toes. He suddenly grabbed you and tossed you on his shoulder. -"T-Toji?! What are you doing?! Put me down!"

"You, me, bath. Now." Is all what he said.

❥ 𝖱𝖾𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽. || 𝖣𝖮 𝖭𝖮𝖳 𝖱𝖤𝖯𝖮𝖲𝖳/𝖳𝖱𝖠𝖭𝖲𝖫𝖠𝖳𝖤.

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #nanami kento x reader #higuruma hiromi x reader #toji fushigro x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #nanami x reader #toji x reader #gojo fluff #geto fuff #gojo satoru fluff #kento nanami fluff #jjk reader insert

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pucksandpower · 7 days

Text

Young Love and Old Money

Max Verstappen x Stroll!Reader

Summary: Max quickly learns that life with the paddock’s favorite nepo baby as his girlfriend is never boring

You take a deep breath as the town car pulls up to the grand arched doorway of your family’s Montreal estate. Beside you, Max squeezes your hand gently.

“Don’t worry, schatje,” he says, “Your father will love me.”

You smile nervously. “I hope so. But you know how protective he can be.”

Max grins. “I can handle it.”

The driver opens the door and you step out into the crisp night air, your heels clicking on the cobblestone. Max follows, straightening his suit jacket.

Inside, the foyer glitters with crystal chandeliers. A maid hurries to take your coats. As she leads you to the formal dining room, your heart pounds.

This dinner needs to go perfectly.

Your father and Lance are already seated at the long mahogany table, chatting. They look up as you enter and break into smiles.

“Y/N!” Your father exclaims warmly, standing to embrace you. “So wonderful to see you, mon minou.”

You hug him tightly back. “You too, Papa.”

Lance grins as he hugs you next. “Hey sis. Long time no see.”

You playfully mess up his hair. “Too long, little bro.”

Finally, you turn to Max, who is waiting patiently. “Papa, Lance, you already know my boyfriend, Max.”

Max steps forward confidently and shakes their hands. “Mr. Stroll, Lance, it’s an honor to finally meet you both properly.”

Your father looks Max up and down appraisingly. “The honor is mine, Max. Please, call me Lawrence.”

You let out a small sigh of relief as you all take your seats. So far, so good.

The first course is brought out — a decadent lobster bisque. You all sip appreciatively.

“Delicious,” Max compliments.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” your father says graciously. “Now, tell me Max, how is your season going so far?”

You tense slightly. Here it comes, the interrogation.

But Max just smiles. “It’s been excellent. A few tough races, but I’m leading the championship at the moment. The car has great pace and I think we have a shot at the title again this year.”

Lance jumps in enthusiastically. “I saw your battle with Charles last race when I was rewatching the tape. Epic stuff, man!”

“Thanks, mate,” Max chuckles. “It was a fun one for sure.”

You exhale in relief. Max is charming them perfectly.

The conversation flows easily through the next few courses. You can’t help but gaze admiringly at Max as he seamlessly meshes with your family. He has a natural confidence and charisma that puts everyone at ease.

Over dessert, your father says warmly, “Max, I can see why my Y/N cares for you. You’re clearly an exceptional young man, both on and off the track.”

Max smiles, touched. “Thank you, sir. Y/N is very special to me.” He squeezes your hand.

You beam, your heart swelling. This is going even better than you hoped.

You finish up the chocolate mousse and set down your spoon contentedly. “That was delicious. This dinner has been wonderful, thank you Papa.”

“Of course,” your father says fondly. “I’m so glad you both could make it out here from Monaco.”

“Thank you for having me,” Max adds.

“Anytime,” Lawrence smiles.

You glance around the table happily. Your boyfriend fits right in with your family. Everything feels so natural and perfect.

“Daddy, could you please pass the sugar?” You ask amiably.

Immediately, both Max and your father’s hands reach for the small pot of sugar in the center of the table. They both freeze awkwardly for a second, before Lawrence pulls his hand back slowly.

You feel your stomach drop as you see the dawning realization cross your father’s face.

Oh no.

This is bad.

Lawrence’s smile becomes forced. “So tell me Max, what exactly does my daughter call you?”

Max’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly. “Um, just Max usually.”

You sink down in your chair, wincing.

Your father lets out a hollow laugh. “Is that so? Because it didn’t sound like that to me.”

A leaden silence descends on the table. Lance glances between you all, smothering a smirk.

Max clears his throat awkwardly. “Well, uh, that’s just a casual nickname really ...”

Lawrence raises an eyebrow. “A casual nickname you say? For my daughter to call her boyfriend in front of her family?”

You close your eyes, willing yourself to vanish. This is excruciatingly embarrassing.

“Dad, come on,” Lance snickers, clearly enjoying your discomfort. “They’re young, it’s whatever.”

“No Lance, it’s not whatever,” your father snaps, an edge in his voice now. “I would like Max to explain himself here.”

Max holds up his hands placatingly. “Sir, I apologize if we’ve made you uncomfortable. But I assure you our relationship is completely respectful.”

You nod quickly. “Papa, he’s right. Can we please just move on?”

But Lawrence is unyielding. “I will not have anyone take liberties with my daughter, do you understand me, young man?”

Max looks properly chastened. “Yes sir, of course. I meant no offense.”

Your father bristles as he glares between you. The awkward tension hovers for several painful moments.

Finally, you can’t take it anymore. “Papa, stop!” You blurt out. “I’m an adult now. You can’t control what I choose to do with my boyfriend.”

Lawrence looks stunned, then hurt. “Y/N, I’m just looking out for you ...”

“I know, but I don’t need protecting from Max. He’s wonderful and he makes me so happy. Can’t you let me make my own choices?”

Your father’s expression softens. He sighs. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just … so hard for me to think of you growing up.”

You reach over and squeeze his hand. “I know. But I’ll always be your little girl.”

Lawrence smiles tenderly at you, then turns to Max. “Forgive my outburst, son. I can see how much you care for each other.”

Max looks relieved. “Of course, sir. I understand completely.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Crisis averted.

Your father stands, raising his glass. “To young love. May you always treat my daughter with the honor and respect she deserves.”

“I will, sir,” Max promises earnestly.

You all clink glasses, the tension dissolving. Conversation resumes, lighter and more relaxed now.

Later, as Max helps you on with your coat, your father claps him warmly on the back. “Thank you for making my daughter so happy. You’ll always be welcome in our home.”

Max’s face lights up. “Thank you, sir. That means the world.”

Lawrence winks. “I was young once too, you know. Just maybe keep the nicknames to yourselves around me.”

You all laugh together. Your heart swells with joy. Despite the awkward moments, the evening couldn’t have gone better.

As the chauffeur drives off into the night, you snuggle contentedly into Max’s shoulder. “Thank you for being so wonderful tonight,” you whisper.

He kisses your hair. “Of course, liefje. I would do it all over again for you.”

***

The sleek red Ferrari glints under the showroom lights as you and Max admire your reflection in the gleaming curves.

“She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” Max grins, running his hand along the hood. “I can’t wait to take her out on the open road.”

You smile at his childlike enthusiasm. “She certainly is gorgeous. You have great taste, babe.”

The salesman steps forward eagerly. “Yes, the Ferrari SF90 Stradale is our newest supercar model. Twin-turbo V8, 720 horsepower. She’ll do 0 to 60 in under three seconds.”

Max’s eyes light up. “Incredible. I think I’m in love already.”

You laugh. “Should I be jealous?”

“Never,” Max winks, pulling you in for a quick kiss.

The salesman smiles indulgently. “Why don’t we step into my office to finalize the paperwork?”

“Sounds good,” Max agrees, lacing his fingers through yours as you follow the salesman.

In the sleek minimalist office, you both take a seat across from the desk as the salesman pulls up Max’s file.

“Excellent. Everything looks in order, Mr. Verstappen,” he says briskly. “If you just sign here and here, we’ll get you all set up.”

Max eagerly scrawls his signature on the documents. You watch in amusement — he reminds you of a kid on Christmas morning.

“Alright, congratulations!” The salesman stands and shakes Max’s hand. “The SF90 is all yours. We’ll have her prepped and ready for you within the hour.”

“Amazing, thanks so much,” Max grins, standing up.

You’re about to follow him out when a flash of black catches your eye. Through the office window, you spot a brand new Ferrari model on display in the showroom.

“Ooh what’s that one?” You ask curiously, gazing at the aggressive curves and styling.

The salesman glances over. “The new 812 Competizione A. It is a limited edition 599-unit production run. Just unveiled last month.”

You feel a thrill run through you as you take in the stunning hypercar. “It’s incredible. I have to have it.”

Max raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Really? You want that one too?”

You turn to the salesman decisively. “I’ll take it. My family has bought from Ferrari for years, my name should be in your client database.”

“Of course, Miss Stroll,” the salesman nods, typing rapidly into his computer. “I see you right here. Let’s start the paperwork and we’ll get the car ordered for you right away.”

You grab your purse, immediately fishing out your black Centurion Card. “Just bill it to my usual card, thanks,” you say breezily, handing it over.

You can feel Max’s stunned gaze on you but you keep your focus on the salesman, reviewing the spec sheet and customization options.

This new Ferrari is just too sexy to resist.

Within minutes, the paperwork is signed and you’ve secured the very first 812 Competizione A destined to stay in Monaco. You grin excitedly — you can’t wait to get your hands on it.

“Thank you so much, just have it delivered to my place in the Fontvieille district when it’s ready,” you tell the appreciative salesman before turning to leave.

You lace your fingers through Max’s, still smiling about your new spontaneously purchased hypercar. “Ready to take your new baby out for a drive?”

Max is quiet as you walk back to the showroom, seemingly lost in thought. He stays silent as the gleaming red SF90 Stradale is pulled around, not even cracking a smile when the salesman hands over the keys with a flourish.

It’s not until you’ve been driving for several minutes, weaving along the coastal roads overlooking the Mediterranean, that Max finally speaks.

“That was 2.13 million euros,” he states flatly. “And you just ... bought it. Without a second thought.”

You glance over, taking in the unreadable expression on his face. “I mean, yeah, it’s a beautiful model. Why not just get it?” You say casually.

Max shakes his head slowly. “I just can’t wrap my head around having that kind of money. That you can just drop over two million without thinking twice.”

You shift slightly, feeling defensive. “I’m sorry, does it make you uncomfortable? I know I grew up with a very different lifestyle ...”

“No, that’s not it at all,” Max interrupts. He pauses, gazing out at the sparkling blue sea pensively.

“It’s just … I’m not used to being with someone who’s on my level. Financially, I mean. All my previous girlfriends, I always had to take care of everything. Pay for dinner, vacations, whatever they needed.”

He turns to look at you. “But you’re different. You have as much money as me, more even. You can buy a hypercar on a whim, no problem. It’s new territory.”

You chew your lip. “I don’t want you to feel emasculated or anything. If you want to pay or take care of things ...”

Max shakes his head again, more firmly this time. “That’s just it — I don’t. I like that you’re independent. It’s really ...”

He pauses, blushing slightly. “Sexy. That’s the word. It’s sexy that you have your own money and success. I’m not used to feeling that in a relationship before.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. That was not the reaction you were expecting.

Max glances at you almost shyly. “Is that weird to say? I just mean, it’s different than what I’m used to, but in a good way. Like we’re equals, you know?”

Slowly, a smile spreads across your face. “No, not weird at all. I get what you mean.” You reach over and squeeze his hand. “This is new territory for me too. But I like discovering it together.”

Max’s face lights up with that radiant smile that melts your heart. “Me too, liefje.”

Your conversation flows easily as you cruise along the seaside, the setting sun glittering on the water. And seeing the look in his eyes when he glances at you now — equal parts love and admiration — you realize just how right it feels.

Being with someone who can match you in every way is new and different for both of you. But you have a feeling it’s the start of something beautiful.

***

The energy buzzing around the paddock is electric as you walk hand-in-hand with Max towards the Red Bull motorhome. Fans line the barriers, cheering and shouting his name. Max smiles and waves, slowing to sign autographs and snap selfies with outstretched phones.

You hang back politely as he interacts with his adoring public. You know the drill by now, having attended countless races with your dad and brother over the years. Blend into the background and let the drivers have their moment.

“Max! Can we get an autograph?” A young girl calls out eagerly, brandishing a cap and marker pen.

“Of course!” Max says graciously, letting go of your hand to walk over.

You hang back contentedly, happy to let him have his moment with his supporters. You catch snippets of their supportive comments as Max signs item after item, posing for selfies in between.

“You’re the greatest, Max!”

“That last win was epic. Get that fourth title this year!”

“We love you so much!”

You smile to yourself. Seeing how much joy Max brings to these fans makes your heart swell with pride and affection.

As you stand waiting patiently, you overhear the girl lean over to her friend and not-so-subtly whisper, “Who’s the chick with Max? She looks kinda stuck up if you ask me.”

Your smile freezes. You see the girl jerk her head rudely in your direction, glaring at you.

“I know right,” her friend agrees in a carrying whisper. “Another gold-digger who managed to sink her claws into a rich man too blind to see what she’s doing.”

You clench your jaw, stung by their spiteful words. Who do they think they are, judging you when they don’t even know you?

Max is still occupied with the other fans, oblivious. You debate whether to just ignore the rude girls. But their jealous gossiping has sparked your defiance. Why should you stay silent?

Squaring your shoulders, you turn and level a steady gaze at them. “For your information, I don’t need a rich man. I am a rich man,” you state coldly.

Their eyes widen in shock, mouths dropping open stupidly. Clearly they weren’t expecting you to confront them.

Before they can react, Max is suddenly beside you, slipping his arm around your waist.

“Whoa, everything okay here?” His gaze darts between you and the embarrassed fans.

You take a breath, ready to explain it away. But Max doesn’t give you the chance.

“You know, if anything, I’m the one who got my claws hooked into her,” he announces, lips curving into a smirk.

Now it’s your turn to gape at him in surprise. The nasty fans look completely bewildered.

“That’s right ladies, I’m just a kept man,” Max continues lightly. “Her arm candy. A sugar baby, if you will.”

He pretends to examine his nails arrogantly and you have to stifle a shocked laugh. Is he actually joking about being your boy toy right now?

Max leans in conspiratorially. “Between you and me, dating a Stroll has done wonders for my bank account. I mean have you seen the new and improved garage decor?”

You smother your grin behind your hand as he prattles on, winking at you.

“So don’t worry about Y/N here, she can buy and sell me twice over.” Max presses a smacking kiss to your cheek. “Isn’t that right, schatje?”

Finally you can’t hold back your laughter anymore. Max joins in and the fans stare, unsure how to react.

“Come on sugar mama, we’ve got a race to win,” Max says breezily, steering you away.

Once safely inside the garage, you turn to him incredulously. “What was that all about?”

Max shrugs, his expression sobering. “I heard what they said. Just wanted to shut them up and defend my girl.”

Your heart melts. Standing on your tiptoes, you kiss him soundly. “My hero. Thank you.”

Max still looks bothered. “You shouldn’t have to deal with stupid gossip. Especially not lies about you using me.”

You slip your arms around his neck persuasively. “It usually doesn’t get to me. Let the jealous haters talk. We know the truth.”

He sighs, gently moving a strand of hair from your face. “I just hate anyone thinking badly of you. You deserve the world.”

Touched by his sincerity, you pull him down into a soft kiss. When you finally draw apart, an idea pops into your head.

“Although ...” you begin thoughtfully, “Maybe we should lean into it.”

Max looks confused. “What do you mean?”

You grin mischievously. “You’re my hot trophy boyfriend. I need to show you off and treat you right.”

Comprehension dawns on Max’s face and he barks out a laugh. “Well I won’t say no to being spoiled.”

He winks roguishly and you dissolve into giggles. The stupid gossipers don’t know anything. You and Max are just perfect together.

For the rest of the weekend, you shamelessly flaunt your new role as Max’s “sugar mommy.” At every opportunity, you shower him with over-the-top gifts and PDA in front of the other drivers and team members.

Designer watches, bouquets of flowers, bottles of decadent gin for his favorite drink — you deliver them all publicly to Max along with cooed compliments and kisses. You can see the amusement hidden behind his mock protests at being “objectified.”

The other drivers are endlessly entertained. Daniel teases Max about latching onto an heiress, while Charles jokingly asks if you have a sister he can date.

By the time Max wins on Sunday, cementing his spot at the top of the championship, the silly gossip from earlier in the weekend is long forgotten.

As you snuggle together on the flight home from the race, you turn to Max curiously. “So, how does it feel being a kept man?”

He pretends to consider it deeply. “Hmm, tough to say. The gifts and pampering were nice ...”

You swat his chest indignantly and he laughs.

“Kidding, kidding,” he assures, pulling you tighter against him. “Obviously I love you for you, not your money, schatje.”

His voice softens. “Thank you for this weekend. I know the gossip bothered you, even if you didn’t show it. I’m lucky to have you by my side.”

You tilt your face up to meet his lips, kissing him tenderly. No more words are needed. Being together says it all.

***

The roar of the crowd surrounds you as you step onto the red carpet on Max’s arm, cameras flashing wildly. He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze and leans in close.

“You ready for this, liefje?”

You take a deep breath and nod, pasting on a smile. “Ready.”

This is your big formal debut — attending your first FIA Prize Giving Ceremony as Max’s girlfriend. And with him just winning his fourth World Championship, all eyes are sure to be on you both tonight.

You try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach as you begin the walk down the carpet, waving politely to the fans shouting Max’s name. He looks completely at ease, his fourth-straight title boosting his confidence even higher.

You, on the other hand, feel like you might trip over your gown at any moment under the blinding spotlights. But you keep your chin high, channeling the poise that’s been drilled into you since girlhood.

Perks of growing up in high society — you know how to fake it on a red carpet.

About halfway down, an interviewer steps forward, microphone in hand. “Max Verstappen! Congratulations on your fourth championship. How are you feeling tonight?”

Max smiles easily. “Thank you, it feels amazing. It was a great battle all season long so this one feels very satisfying.”

The reporter nods, then turns her attention to you. “And who is this lovely lady accompanying you tonight?”

“This is my girlfriend, Y/N,” Max introduces you proudly.

“Y/N, you look absolutely stunning tonight, if you don’t mind me saying,” the interviewer gushes. “That gown is exquisite!”

You relax slightly, warming to her friendly tone. “Thank you so much!” You smile.

“In fact, both of your outfits are fabulous,” she continues. “Who are you wearing tonight?”

Max’s face lights up. He squeezes your hand excitedly. “Funny you should ask — we’re both wearing custom Y/N Stroll originals!”

You have to resist the urge to giggle at the unconcealed pride in his voice.

The interviewer’s eyes widen. “No way, you designed these yourselves?”

You nod, enjoying her reaction. “I did, yeah. Fashion design is a bit of a hobby of mine.”

“A hobby she’s amazing at,” Max interjects adoringly. “She could have her own luxury brand if she wanted. I feel so honored to wear her work.”

You blush at his high praise. “Oh Max, stop. But thank you, that’s so sweet.”

The reporter seems thrilled at this exclusive scoop. “Incredible! It looks like you have some serious talent, Y/N. Any plans to pursue that more seriously?”

You hesitate briefly. Your father has been gently nudging you to take over his fashion business when he retires. But that’s still in the future ...

You decide to give a lighthearted answer. “We’ll see! Fashion does run in my family so it’s always a possibility.” You finish with a coy smile.

“How wonderful! We’ll be keeping an eye out for Y/N Stroll designs in the future then,” the reporter concludes enthusiastically.

You grin and wave as she lets you continue down the carpet, Max’s arm securely around your waist.

“See, that wasn’t so bad was it?” He murmurs in your ear.

“Not at all,” you admit. “I might get used to this whole red carpet thing after all.”

Max winks. “Stick with me and you’ll be a pro in no time.”

Your heart flutters happily. Being by his side just feels so right.

Inside the lavish venue, you’re shown to your table near the front with the other top drivers and their partners. Max pulls out your chair politely before sitting down beside you.

You chat with the other girls at the table, fellow WAGs you’ve gotten to know over the course of the season. They gush over the dress you designed, making you promise to create something for them too.

Soon, the lights dim and the ceremony begins. You clap loudly as Max wins Driver of the Year, bursting with pride for your champion.

Finally, the moment comes for the big one. The announcer begins the buildup, recapping the season’s epic title battle between Max and his closest rival.

"… And in the end, one man emerged victorious for the fourth time in his young but dazzling career,” the announcer concludes. “Formula 1 World Driver’s Champion ... Max Verstappen!”

The room explodes into thunderous applause as Max squeezes your hand and makes his way up to the stage, beaming. You watch with tears in your eyes as he accepts the trophy, looking so handsome and accomplished.

After the ceremony finishes, Max makes his way back to you, trophy in hand. You throw your arms around him. “I’m so proud of you!”

He hugs you tight, then pulls back, his expression earnest. “I couldn’t have done it without your support this season. Having you by my side means everything to me.”

Your heart swells and you kiss him tenderly. “You deserve this so much. And nothing makes me happier than being with you.”

Max’s eyes shine. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Max.”

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makkir0ll · 28 days

Text

"you have really long eyelashes"

it catches him off guard. you guys are just laying in your bed scrolling on your own phones. he didn't even feel you staring at him. how long have you been looking?

"thanks?" he replies

"no i mean seriously like drop the lash serum." you joke at him as you continue to observe him.

they're long and thick. the kind of lashes that have a natural curl, unlike yours, that fall straight down and take several minutes to curl to your perfect liking. not to mention the layers of mascara you apply to get them to even remotely look like his.

he turns his head to you and you don't miss his dilated pupils as his eyes bore into yours. you take note of how the lashes perfectly frame his eyes. and you're so jealous.

but then an idea pops into your head, you smile to yourself and he senses it coming.

"can i-"

"no" he cuts you off.

"babe please you don't even know what i was about to say!" you grab onto his shoulder as you plead.

"whatever it is im sure it's going to be bad." he retorts, turning his face away from you and going back on his phone.

"i'll buy you you're favorite food."

and that's how you end up here on his lap with your mascara in your hand. his hair is pushed back as his hands rest on your hips, drawing small circles as he awaits your actions.

you open the bottle with the black liquid and bring the wand close to his eyes. "don't move" you whisper and he listens. mainly because he's scared that you're going to poke his eye out as you bring the wand to the base of his eyelashes and wiggle it slowly before moving it up to coat the length of the lashes. some of the mascara gets on his eyelids. you repeat the actions on the other eye before going back and doing a second coat. you can tell that he might be slightly nervous that you're going to blind him with the way he holds his breath and the grip he has on your hips get ever so slightly tighter.

you move yourself off his lap and he goes to grab his phone so he can see what he looks like.

"wait no not yet, i'm still not done" you say as you go and grab ur q-tips and micellar water.

"still?"

"yes still, i need to clean up the mascara on your eyelids," you say as you place yourself back on his lap. you open the bottle of micellar water and carefully put the clear liquid on the q-tip. you bring the white stick of cotton to his eyes and you tell him to close them. he feels the wet cotton and it's a weird feeling. you watch the q-tip turn darker the more mascara you wipe off.

"okay i'm done!" you say and he opens his eyes and you don't think he's ever looked more majestic. his already long lashes looking even longer and bolder now that he has the mascara to bring them out. you notice that the color of his eyes pop more. "you look so pretty" you smile as lean in to pepper kisses along his face. his cheeks feel warm and he can already tell that they're probably red.

he reaches over to his phone and opens the camera app and switches the camera so he can see himself. and he immediatly notices the stark difference in his eyes with the mascara. he brings his fingers to his lashes to touch them. it feels weird and his eyes kind of feel weighed down. but he has no regrets when he sees you smiling at him so fondly.

"they look nice." he smiles at you, dropping his phone to the side.

"i know right, ugh im so jealous i wish i had your lashes. all my problems would be solved." you say, thinking about the long and excruciating lash routine you perform every morning.

"all of them?"

"yes, all of them."

he chuckles at your words. "alright, but can you take it off now, it feels weird." he says, hands coming to touch his lashes again. you pout as you grab the micellar water you put away and a cotton pad and remove the mascara from his eyelashes, being gentle so that he doesn't lose a few. he appreciates the action. and maybe he would let you put more than just mascara on his face another day.

KAGEYAMA (has the best lashes argue with the wall), suna, tsukishima (genuinely terrified that you're going to make him go blind), OSAMU, kuroo, MATSUKAWA MY LOVE, iwaizumi, OIKAWA (he would eat that shit up), akaashi, kenma, +ur fav.

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inuyashaluver · 2 months

Text

boyfriend - leah williamson

leah williamson x reader

description: in which your girlfriend is just the definition of boyfriend

warnings: swearing, a little suggestive

a/n: i was writing my requests and got the overwhelming urge to write this because leah is just the definition of boyfriend, i don’t make the rules, i also saw the picture of her this morning and died so here you go lmao

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

your girlfriend, leah, was the literal definition of boyfriend. and yeah, maybe that didn’t make sense, but it did to you.

leah williamson was incredibly protective, supportive and disciplined to the public eye, but to you, she was just your leah.

your leah found comfort in burying her face in the crook of your neck to avoid the rest of the world.

your leah loved to hold your hand or any part of your body at every given moment so everyone knew you were hers and she was yours.

your leah was incredibly stubborn, especially when it came to you. your leah worshipped the ground you walked on.

—

you and leah grew up together in the arsenal youth teams, quickly gravitating towards each other when you both realised how passionate you were about football, exactly like the other person.

when you both got selected for the england teams, you two grew extremely close, finding comfort in just being around each other. you both brought out the best in each other and everyone could see it, both on and off the pitch.

you and leah didn’t have many issues surrounding your years of pining, the two of you would shamelessly flirt from the time you were both 19 and changing that dynamic of being best friends to something more.

“baby, do not go on this date” leah pleads as you held up a forth outfit up to your body, “what do you think?” you turn to face her, a scowl evident on her 19 year old face as she sat on the edge of your bed.

“you look gorgeous, that’s not the point, (y/n)” she spits out, “i don’t want you to go,” leah crosses her arms over her chest and glares at you chuckling in the mirror.

“i want to go, lee baby” you tease, making the girl huff in frustration when you brought out yet another top against you.

“fine, wear the second outfit, see if i care,” she grumbles, picking at her cuticles while you smile at her through the mirror.

you were just pulling her leg, there wasn’t really a date, you just loved to tease leah but you also wanted your relationship to progress, to finally call her yours.

“babe” you call out, moving to stand in between her spread legs, she looks up at you curiously, her glare still a little evident as you smiled down at her.

“what?” she sighs, your hands make your ways to her shoulders, massaging them gently and feeling her relax under your touch.

“there’s no date, you git” you chuckle, leah tenses again, “sorry?” you really couldn’t help but laugh at her face of relief but also mischief as she looked up at you.

“i’m fucking with you, there’s no date” you laugh, leah grabs the sides of your hips and chucks you onto your bed, moving to straddle your hips as she tickled your sides.

“you’re such a little shit!” she laughs, smiling brightly at the bright laughs coming out of your mouth.

“why would you tell me there was a date?” she breathes out, lacing your fingers together as she pinned them by the sides of your head.

“wanted to see how you’d react” you say breathlessly, your chest heaving while an affectionate smile adorns your features.

“you seemed a little jealous, williamson?” you say teasingly, leah shakes her head, pinning you by your hips to the bed with her own, “fuck off, i was not” she defends, giving your hands a squeeze as you laugh up at her.

your heart was beating out of your chest, so was leah’s, but in a good way. a weirdly familiar way.

“you so were” you smirk, “i don’t want you to go” you mock her accent, she rolls her eyes fondly, lifting your hand up and threatening to bite your fingers.

you yelp when her teeth actually does graze your pointer finger, making her chuckle against your skin.

her eyes flicker between your own before falling to your lips, subconsciously wetting hers with her tongue as she looked back up at your eyes.

“looking a little flushed there, gorgeous, you alright?” she teases, you shake your head at her, “i’m fine, but you look a little flushed there, babe, anything you want to tell me?” you tease right back.

she giggles at your words, kissing the corner of your mouth, your breath hitched at how close she was to your lips, feeling her smirk against your skin as she trailed kisses along your cheeks.

she pulls back, dangerously close to your face as she chuckles, both of your pupils were blown out, cheeky grins evident on both of your faces.

leah puts you out of your misery and gives you that kiss you’d both been dreaming of, it was as perfect as a first kiss could go.

a little inexperienced at first but quickly learning from each other as it continued. you hummed against leah’s lips and she can’t help but grin into the kiss.

the kiss lasted for a couple of seconds before she let go of you, pulling you to sit up cross legged in front of her while she offered you a sheepish smile.

“be my girlfriend?” she breathes out, you nod instantly, making your way into her lap and kissing her until the air was knocked out from your lungs.

when you both pulled away, you tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear and leah’s heart fluttered. at the gesture but also the fact you were doing it as her girlfriend. “took you long enough” you grin, she pinches your hip and smirks when you squirm in her lap.

“how about i wear outfit number two and we go out on our own date” you smile cheekily, she presses a quick, tender kiss to your lips in response,

“you’ve got yourself a deal” she whispers against your lips, her hands gently squeezing your hips as you ended up in another kiss.

—

in present times, you and leah moved in together, both of you were extremely successful in your football careers.

leah was the captain of the england senior team and you couldn’t be more proud, showing her how much you loved that armband the first time she wore it.

you and leah had so much love for each other it was sickeningly sweet. both of you were head over heels, affection an understatement for the two of you.

it was obvious in the way you acted around her, dropping anything and everything if she needed something. telling her verbally how much you loved her no matter where you were. giving her heart eyes every two seconds that had her stomach swarming with butterflies.

and in leah’s case, she’s been called a simp way more than she’d like to admit but she didn’t mind. it was true after all.

—

“baby, you’ll get sick like that” leah scolds as you walk out of the change room onto the pitch where she was waiting for you for a pre match lap, your puffer unzipped in just your training kit.

“i’m fine, love” you smile, walking up to her and promptly puckering your lips up at her, she shakes her head fondly, pressing a couple of kisses to your lips while you sighed happily.

she pulls away from you, tugging you closer by the sides of your puffer and zipping it up for you. you smile at her appreciatively, she pinches your cheek gently before grabbing your hand and interlacing it with hers as you both walked around, posing for photos together with cheesy grins if needed.

your cheeks were a little red, not only from leah but the cold as well. leah moves you to stand in front of her again, her arms wrapping around you and prompting you to do the same as she pulled you closer.

she kisses your cheeks repeatedly, feeling them warm up under her lips as she spreads her love on both. “still cold?” she says softly, you nod with a cheeky grin, “very” she narrows her eyes at you amusingly but continues spreading kisses over your entire face, relishing in the soft giggles you were rewarding her with.

suddenly, she gasps, reaching into her pockets with an excited smile. “i forgot!” she exclaims, pulling out two heat packs that were warming up in her pockets, she only did it for you.

she places both of them against your cheeks and you smile happily, letting leah press little kisses to your lips again as she held the packs gently on your face, making sure not to burn you. she would whisper in conversation with you in between the kisses, your stomach lurching at her softness.

“ugh, you two make me sick” beth dry wretches, victoria and alessia laugh while watching you both pull away, “fuck off, beth” leah groans, tugging you impossibly closer as you tucked your head under her chin.

“i’ll remind you she’s my girlfriend, bethany” you tease, leah kisses your temple softly, “you think i don’t know that? you’re attached at the hip” she teases, “leave them, bethy, they’re cute” alessia coos, you send her a little wink of appreciation.

“they’re cute until you catch them fucking,” beth exclaims, you and leah both roll your eyes in unison, “you came to our home, unannounced, uninvited, with the spare key” leah grits out, holding onto you protectively. your hands rub up and down her back in an attempt to calm her down but leah was your defender.

“i told you i was coming over!” beth accuses, “you did fucking not!” leah yells, alessia and victoria laugh at the the thought of you and leah being caught. especially knowing how protective leah was of you. let’s just say a lot of yelling happened that day.

the bickering went back and forth for a bit as you and leah kept cuddling up together.

“you could have the same if you just go up to viv” leah shrugs, beth rolls her eyes at that, “i don’t need to be attached to my girlfriend to show our love” beth defends, “the kisses are nice, beth” you smile, looking up at leah with a smile.

beth chuckles and seems to give in, you and leah giggle as you watch beth run over and latch herself to viv, watching her struggle for a bit before giving up and pulling her into an embrace similar to yours and leah’s.

“we should be couple’s therapists,” you rest your chin on her chest, looking up at her with a soft smile. she kisses you softly again, “we can be whatever you want to be” she says cheekily, making you chuckle when her kisses make their way to your neck, jokingly biting you a couple of times to make you laugh.

—

whenever you and leah were in a large crowd, her true boyfriend nature came out that you just ate up. you were both at the pride of britain awards, her hand firmly planted on the small of your back as you walked around, posing for cameras on the red carpet.

when you two got pulled for interviews, leah tucked you into her side as you answered questions, she would focus on you intently, nodding along with your words and smiling proudly as you talked.

when you’d catch her gaze, her bright smile would make you falter slightly and you’d have to recover while her hand rubbed gently up and down your back.

you both answer generic interview until you approach a very special one. “it’s one nil” the interviewer says, leah and your eyes visibly widen, leah pressing her hand into your back as you both approached.

“are you joking?” leah smiles, “no it is!” the interviewer exclaims, “arsenal?” leah questions excitedly, “did you hear that?” leah grins at you, “yeah, baby i did” you chuckle affectionately, your head falling to her shoulder for a minute while she chats excitedly with the interviewer.

“this girl bleeds arsenal” you smile up at her, she nods without a second thought, showing off her earring with a proud smile.

“so, leah, if you had to pick between (y/n) and arsenal, who would you pick?” the interviewer says jokingly, though leah takes it seriously,

“now, hold on, i’m gonna go with my girl in arsenal, without a doubt” she says smugly, seemingly proud of her answer.

you laugh brightly, kissing her cheek fondly as she grins, “she was joking” you laugh, leah looks down at you cheekily, “don’t care” she taunts, her hand moving to rest on your hip to answer the rest of the interview.

you both got invited to an after party, making your rounds together with bright smiles, seeing people you haven’t seen for ages.

everytime you would talk to leah, she would bend her head to your level to make sure you were speaking directly into her ear, not wanting to miss out on anything you say.

and so, when you mentioned to leah you wanted to go home, you both left promptly with leah leading you out.

—

another instance of your girlfriend just radiating boyfriend energy was when you both needed to go on a bus for the lionesses on camp.

leah was talking to keira and georgia who she hadn’t seen in a while so you went on the bus first.

a few of the younger girls send you a wave so you go over with a bright smile. sitting next to maya as you entertained the young ones as they teased you about your love life.

it was until your girlfriend got on the bus with a little scowl at realising you left without her. “who do you think you are?” leah grumbles, grabbing your hand and dragging you out of the seat you were in to another one closer to the back.

you hear the laughs of the girls as leah drags you from your seat.

“leah!” you reprimand with a laugh, “who?” she whips her head towards you, about to shove you into the window seat.

“love,” you sigh, she smiles cheekily, “that’s better” she pushes you towards the window seat, draping your legs over hers as you both chatted.

leah snapped a photo of you and smiled at the result, adding it to her folder dedicated to you. “you’re so cute” leah coos, kissing you quickly and dropping her grumpy attitude. “you’re cuter” you grin, pressing another kiss to her lips before you snuggle up to her.

“i’m running out of storage” leah frowns, going to her camera roll and gasping at how many photos you have.

you lean over and gasp as well, grabbing her hand with the phone in it and looking at the screen, “baby, oh my god, what’ve you got in there” you laugh,

“i don’t know, let’s see” she makes you sit closer while you both went through her camera roll, laughing at some of the funnier pictures and shoving her phone down at the more explicit ones.

“i need to revisit this picture later” she winks at you when one of you and leah during that first day of captaincy. “leah cathrine” you warn, she smirks, “sorry” she coughs.

your heart quickened when you realised how many photos she had of you, making up almost all of her camera roll.

“lovey, you can delete some photos of me, half of them are duplicates” you chuckle, leah looks at you offendedly, “excuse me? they are all different” she scoffs, flicking between two nearly identical photos while pointing out little differences.

“babe, that’s the same picture” you laugh brightly, leah stifles her own laugh, “it is not! god, just break up with me then, you awful woman, can’t even have a picture of my wife in my phone without you on my ass” she grins,

“wife? i don’t remember you proposing?” you tease, “in due time, my girl” she smiles, kissing you breathlessly until you were completely flushed in the face.

“here, i’ll help you delete some photos,” you hold your hand out for her phone and she holds it instead, “you delete a single one and i’ll really break up with you” she mocks, you gasp offendedly

“i’m wounded” you pout, she makes quick work of fixing it with a kiss, “kissed it better” she grins, squeezing your thigh gently as your head fell to her shoulder.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you know the drill - just pretend it’s you, ily beffy

liked by alessia and 44,232 others

leahwilliamsonn: she’s baby girl

view all comments

yourname: it was brilliant, it was powerful, it was leah williamson!!!!

↳ leahwilliamsonn: stop it

↳ yourname: never, it’s literally my job

↳ leahwilliamsonn: your job is football

↳ yourname: my job is annoying you for the rest of my life

↳ leahwilliamsonn: can’t wait xx

bethmead_: sick

↳ yourname: stop hating, bethany

↳ leahwilliamsonn: yeah, bethany

↳ viviannemiedema: yeah, bethany

↳ bethmead_: the betrayal

#woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso one shot #woso imagine #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader

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ellecdc · 2 months

Note

can i request a poly!marauders where the reader just tends to wonder off, like she’s suspended to be in class but she just talking to one of the portraits or just outside staring at the sky and sometimes james and/or sirius follow her so remus has to round them up

so stinkin' cute - thanks for your request lovie!

~please note: my requests are currently closed as I work through some of my older requests~

poly!marauders x fem whimsical!reader

“I don’t mean to alarm you boys,” Marlene started, not looking at all concerned about alarming them in the slightest. “But I think you might be missing a member of your group.”

Sirius and James looked to each other in horror as Remus let out an exasperated sigh.

“Where is she?” Remus asked impatiently.

“I swear she was just behind me...” James admitted, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.

“She cannot miss lunch, she hardly sat down long enough for breakfast this morning.” Remus commented mostly to himself as he headed back the way he came, hoping to quickly find wherever you’d wandered off to.

Although your whimsy and excitement in life was one of the things the boys most admired about you, it did make Remus worry from time to time that you’d forget to look after yourself.

It shouldn’t be that big of a deal, however, seeing as you had three boyfriends here to help you out on that end. Though, it didn’t speak very highly of them when they kept losing you.

There were very few moments in his life he was particularly grateful for his lycanthropy, but this was perhaps one of them.

He could smell you before he heard you, and he heard you before he saw you.

He rounded a corner which was disturbingly far from the Great Hall, meaning they’d lost you quite some time ago, and saw you conversing with a portrait of the Fat Friar.

“From what I’ve learned both in life and in death, forgiveness is not only for the other person, but also for yourself.” The Fat Friar said to you. Remus paused in his steps to enjoy the uninhibited smile that graced your face.

“Have you ever met someone unworthy of forgiveness, Friar?” You asked, your serene voice drifting down the hallway and gracing Remus’ ears.

“Not in my nearly 1000 years.” He answered.

Your smile grew impossibly wider at that. “Me either.”

Remus couldn’t take it anymore, he resumed his trek towards you, and though he’d been going for stern, he knew his face looked impossibly lovesick as you turned your beaming smile onto him.

“Hi Rem.” You called softly, turning away from the portrait and towards your boyfriend.

“We thought we lost you, dovey.” He reprimanded as he reached for your face, resting one hand on either cheek and tilting your face up towards him.

“I’m never very far.” You answered. Remus was torn between wanting to roll his eyes fondly and thanking you for ensuring that this was true.

“Any amount of space is too far, my love.” He said instead, placing a lingering kiss to your forehead. Your eyes closed and you let out a pleased hum.

“Why’d you wander off, dove?” He asked as he pulled back, keeping your face secured in his hands and rubbing your cheekbones with his thumbs.

“I saw a dedalian key fly by, but as I was following it, I saw the portrait of Ferdinand Octavius Pratt who was very upset because the Fat Friar’s ghost insisted that he let go of old grudges. So, I figured I’d ask the Friar his side of the story. And, well, here we are.” You finished, smiling up at him like having him find you here had been your master plan all along.

“Here we are.” He murmured back, wondering how on earth he and his boyfriends managed to land something as impossibly sweet as you.

Speaking of said boyfriends, Remus’ thoughts were interrupted by the sound of two heavy footfalls as the sods came running up to the two of you.

“There you are dollface! We were worried sick.” Sirius proclaimed as he all but shoved Remus out of the way and took his place, holding your face in his hands and peppering your head with kisses.

You giggled and pulled back slightly, which Sirius allowed but kept you safe within his grasp.

“You needn’t worry, Sirius. I was in wonderful company.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow and Remus translated for him.

“She was busy talking to the Fat Friar when I found her.”

Sirius nodded in understanding before he narrowed his eyes at you. “He wasn’t making moves on you, was he?”

You laughed as if Sirius had made some very funny joke, and Remus laughed along with you even though he could tell Sirius wasn’t entirely convinced.

“I’m sorry we lost you, angel.” James said somewhat meekly. Remus knew though that he was mostly apologizing to Remus and less to you.

“That’s quite alright Jamie.” You assured him. “I would have found you later.”

Some tension left James’ shoulders as he smiled at you, sharing a shy glance with Remus before continuing. “You didn’t eat much for breakfast since you were so excited about the Grindylow’s hatching, so...” He said as he pulled out a tote bag from behind his back. “Pads and I ran to the kitchens and packed a picnic. Would you like to head down to the Black Lake now?”

If Remus’ heart grew two sizes at the sentiment, yours must have grown three.

“Oh, Jamie!” You nearly squealed, pulling him into a hug that he eagerly reciprocated.

“I’d love that! Thank you!” You cheered, stepping back towards Sirius who quickly hooked your arm in his – a guarantee that he wouldn’t lose you this time.

“After you then, m’lady.” Sirius said seductively with a wink, causing you to giggle again as the two of you turned and headed towards the school grounds.

Remus quickly pulled James up against his side and pressed a kiss into his hair.

“You’re such a sweet boy, James Potter.” He murmured, feeling the fondness ooze right out of his being for this man he somehow got to call his.

“Yeah?” James asked, sending Remus a beaming smile.

Remus smiled and accepted a searing kiss from the quidditch chaser.

James let out a pleased sigh as he pulled out of the kiss and walked in step with Remus, looking ahead to watch you and Sirius nearly skip down the hall. It was incredibly lighthearted, though Remus noticed Sirius possessively pull you into his side as you two walked past the ghost of the Fat Friar who exchanged nothing more than a polite head nod with you.

“We’re so lucky.” James commented.

Remus couldn’t help but agree.

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luveline · 10 months

Text

𝐚 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐝 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

eddie fights to get his usually shy and moderately intoxicated girlfriend to bed when you insist on clinging to him at every turn. requested here. fem!reader, 2.5k.

cw intoxicated reader

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You're holding onto Eddie's arm tight enough to leave little fingerprint bruises behind. He doesn't think he'd mind, and he doesn't try to slacken your grip as he helps you up the stairs into the trailer.

"Do we have to be quiet?" you whisper. Or, attempt to whisper.

"Nah, Wayne's working." He closes the door behind you and leans over your shoulder to put his car keys in the bowl on the sideboard. "Oh, hey."

You've given up on clinging to his arm and have started cuddling his waist instead. Eddie feels his eyes go wide, peering down at you almost like he's worried you'll realise you're being bold and move away. You rub your cheek against his leather jacket and sigh. "I love your hugs," you say dreamily, words slurred but understandable.

This isn't news to him, but it's definitely nothing you've said aloud before. Eddie's your boyfriend, he knows you enjoy a warm hug, but he's your new-ish boyfriend, and you're one of the shyest people he's ever met. Half the time he kisses you and your cheeks catch fire.

"Yeah?" he asks fondly.

You break the hug quicker than he'd like and bend at the waist. Laughing unsurely, you attempt to untie your shoelaces, wobbling like a cardboard house in a hurricane. Eddie catches onto your shoulders to hold you up, but you can't last.

You make a strange sound, indignation and admission at once, and put your hands behind you to sit down. You go down hard enough to make the kitchenette shake, trailer walls not especially durable.

"Shit, are you okay?" he asks, kneeling down in front of you.

You blink at him glassily. "Will you take my shoes off, please?"

"Yeah," he says. He laughs and tries not to. "Yeah, I'll take your shoes off for you. Pass em over."

You put one of your feet on top of his knees clumsily. Eddie unties the bunny knots you'd made earlier, neat and tidy, not wanting anyone to judge you for messy laces, you'd said.

He slides your shoes off and gives your toes a squeeze. Sober you would blow a gasket, shuffling away from him with a flustered squeak, but drunk you must like it. You leave your foot on his thigh and offer him the other shoe.

"Do you like my socks?"

Eddie digs his nail into the second bunny knot. "I love them. Why, are they new?"

Your socks are normal white crew socks with a black hem stripe, black toes, and black heels. You hum at his observation appreciatively, your hand straying to your stomach. "And my underwear, too."

"How much did you have to drink while I was in the bathroom?" he asks. Eddie's seen you in your underwear, but it's still unlike you to allude to your skivvies while fully dressed.

"Not much. Why?"

"It's not like you to talk about underwear," he tells you, sliding off your shoe and giving your foot a squeeze just as he had the first time, thumb digging into the sole.

You giggle and yank your legs up and away from him. "That tickles."

"Sorry, sweetheart."

"It's okay. I forgive you, duh."

He laughs, thrilled to see you this adorable and this beamingly happy. He can make you smile like no one else, and of course you're not always shy when you're with him, but it takes time. Eddie wouldn't change you for anything, it's just a real nice thing to see you so proudly happy.

And hopelessly drunk. You lay on the floor of your side for a moment, jeans riding up your calves as you curl in on yourself, your jacket falling off your shoulder.

Eddie crawls to your side. He indulges himself, sliding his hand between your cheek and the floor to lift your head. You meet his eyes dozily, sparks of happiness to be seen in your dilated pupils and the apples of your cheeks as you smile at him.

"Are you feeling okay?" he asks.

"You–" you begin, not sure where you're ending, "I missed you."

"You missed me?" You're loaded. "Don't worry about missing me, sweetheart, I'm right here. Can I ask you for something?"

You nod hurriedly. "Of course you can," you breathe.

"Will you help me get to bed?"

You reach for his elbow, your hand coasting up the length of his arm to his shoulder. "Stay here," you say. You're pleading with him, eyebrows drawing together, fingers screwing up in the folds of his jacket.

"You'll be comfier on my lumpy mattress than you are on the floor, trust me."

"I'm tired," you say.

"Come to bed with me," he says softly, mirroring your tone.

"And we'll have a hug?"

Holy fucking shit, Eddie's fucked. He thinks, I'm gonna marry this girl, cheeks aching with the effort it takes to keep his huge smile at bay as he helps you sit up.

"I'll give you as many hugs as you want," he says, brokering a deal with you right there on the floor.

You agree to his terms, holding your hands out to be pulled up. Eddie stands and pulls you, and you do your part, attempting to stand with a wobble as you go, but he's right there to catch you. Thus begins another round of clinging, your fingers braceleting his wrist, your hips on his.

Eddie leads you down the hallway. It takes longer than it should, what with your face in his neck and your less than subtle sniffing. He smells better than you do, your shirt soaked with what could be craft beer but might just be a half a cup of cider, neither of which he pictures you drinking.

"Who tipped their drink on?" he asks, pushing the bedroom door open with his elbow.

"What?" you ask, lifting your head from his neck. He looks down at you briefly.

"What happened? You have beer all down your shirt, babe. Did someone tip their drink on you?"

"Robin did, she said to tell you it was Steve." You raise a hand to his cheek. It's cold, and it smells like your moisturiser. "But I don't keep secrets from you."

He doesn't mean to melt under your touch. He has things he should be doing, depositing you in the bed, changing your shirt, tucking you in for the night with a glass of water and a bottle of Tylenol for your perusal in the morning, but it's a startling delight to have you stroking his cheek. You usually only do this when he's half asleep or you're very tired; hoping he'll forget, maybe, and forgetting your own inhibitions.

"You don't?" he asks gently.

Your fingertips slip from the soft part of his cheek up to his eyelashes. You don't touch them, breathing out the side of your mouth rather than in his face. Drunk but not enough to stop treating him with care.

"No… except for last Friday when we went to the Hawk. I really did need to use the bathroom."

Well, Eddie knew that. You're shy, that doesn't make you a good actress. "And now we have no secrets," he says, covering your hand on his cheek.

Your eyes slip closed a touch. Eddie doesn't really believe himself, he's sure there's lots of stuff you don't tell him. He guesses when you need something to drink because you hate asking, and he can't work out whether you like hotdogs or if you're just humouring him when he makes them, but he thinks any secret worth having is one you've let him in on.

He puts you on the end of the bed.

"Can I help you get changed?" he asks, already turning for the wardrobe where he keeps your left behind pyjamas and miscellaneous clothes, washed and pressed and waiting for you the next time you come around.

"You haven't asked if you can undress me in ages."

He laughs like an idiot, scooping an oversized t-shirt and a pair of your pyjama pants into his arms. "Now, that's not true. I always ask, but half the time you're already getting there." He turns to you, finds you've disappeared into your shirt, elbow twisted into the bottom and arms slack. "Like that," he laughs.

"Stuck," you mumble.

He chucks your pyjamas down and slips his fingers under your shirt where it's folded at the top of your shoulders. "Lift your arms, sweetheart. There you go."

He laughs again when he sees your rumpled hair and face, dropping your acidic smelling shirt on the floor. "There she is. Hey, gorgeous," Eddie teases, running the side of his hand down your cheek quickly. "Bra on or off?"

"Can I have my shirt first, please?" you ask.

He loves you. Your shyness creeping back in despite his having seen it all before is endearing, and he wouldn't ever say no to you. "Of course you can. Do you need my help again?"

"I think this part will be easier."

You're right about that. You get your shirt on easily enough, unclipping your bra without help. Nor do you need help with your pants.

Eddie strips off quickly, swapping jeans for plaid pants and his t-shirt for a ribbed undershirt. He stretches out day long aches and kicks aside your dirty clothes on his way to the light switch, flicking it off, only his lamp left on now.

You look lovely. Makeup smudged, watching him move around his small room with your face propped heavily in your hand, a practically cherubic smile playing on your lips.

He pulls back the sheets and grabs you by the waist, lifting you very slightly to encourage you up against the pillows. You look at him like he's a wonder, adoration softening each line of your features. Your lips part slightly, your eyebrows rise upward.

He thinks it might be really special, to be looked at as you look at him.

"Let me get you a glass of water," he says.

Neither of you have managed to brush your teeth. Honestly, he doesn't think you can stand up any more to try. Water will have to do.

"No!" you say, louder than you've likely ever spoken to him when he isn't tickling you. "You said we'd hug."

"We will," he says, giving your hand a little shake where it clings to his.

"Please, Eddie, I just want to cuddle with you," you confess, giving him the best case of the puppy dogs he's ever seen.

Eddie thinks, Whatever, we'll just have to make sure we brush extra hard in the morning. He can't deny you any longer. He didn't stand a chance.

He climbs over your legs and you tuck him in affectionately, ramming your forehead into his chest and throwing your arm around his waist with less care. You nuzzle in, a satisfied sigh leaving your lips as you get comfortable.

"This is so nice," you praise, words sluggish, slurred even more than they were as fatigue weighs you down.

"This is perfect," he agrees, easing as flat as he can onto his back, nothing for his arms to do now but wrap around you and hold you close.

You sigh again. It's even happier than the first, your leg creeping up as you hook your knee over his hip. "I love you, Munson. Thanks for…" You yawn and rub your nose into his chest. "Thank you. I love you."

"You told me twice," he says, lifting his head to give you a teeny tiny kiss on your temple.

"It was true for both of the times," you mumble.

Despite relaxing atop him, your arms are like a vice. He doesn't care, he really couldn't care less, 'cos if you weren't hugging him like this he'd be hugging you tighter. Eddie speaks against your skin tenderly, "I love you, too," he murmurs, sealing it with a punctuating kiss.

He rubs your shoulder, feels your arms give him one final squeeze.

"Is now a bad time to mention I need the bathroom?" he asks.

Your answering snore tickles his chest.

—

"Eddie."

Eddie scrunches his face up. You look down at him, flustered, wondering if it would be better for you to run out on him and never see him again. He groans as he wakes, turning his head and distorting the stain of your lipgloss smudged the length of his neck.

You nibble the inside of your lip. He doesn't seem particularly annoyed with you. But he is mostly asleep.

"Eddie, how did we get home last night?" you ask, rubbing between your eyebrows. "You didn't drive, did you?"

He'd had two beers, which wasn't too much for him to handle but is more than anyone should have if they want to drive themselves home.

Eddie peels his eyes open. "Steve drove us."

"Oh. I'm sorry, I'm super embarrassed. I got kinda wasted, huh?"

Eddie's hands slip under your shirt to wrap around your soft stomach. He pulls you in an attempt to make you lay down again.

"You were very drunk," he agrees, yawning into your ribs.

You put your hand on the other side of his head to hold yourself up. "Was I a handful?" you ask softly, brushing his bangs away from his eyes.

He smiles against your shirt. You feel the curve of his lips, goosebumps erupting underneath it. Shy, you gasp quietly and try to escape his hold, but he hugs you ever tighter, snuggling into your chest.

"You were great. I missed sober you, though."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Drunk you doesn't get goosebumps when I touch her." Smugness colours his voice, his hand rubbing up and down your naked back roughly to chase away your shivers.

"I wasn't weird, was I?" you worry, more than alarmed by the gap in your memory.

"You told me all about your new underwear," —you groan— "and how badly you needed to pee at the Hawk."

You drop your head on to his, your foreheads touching, your hand curling around his neck. "Did I do anything vaguely in the land of acceptable behaviour?" you mumble in defeat.

"You told me you loved me. Multiple times. Once in your sleep." Eddie sounds delighted.

"That's unfontunately true," you grumble, not really meaning it.

He laughs and gives you a firm tug. "Cuddle with me, babe."

You cuddle him if only to hide your face from the world, face in his hair, hands under his back. Eddie draws a path of fondness up and down the dip of your back, laughing at each new crop of goosebumps as they rise. He's sweet enough to let you forget the mess you've made for at least a few stolen hours that morning.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed, please reblog if you have the time it makes a huge difference for me ♡

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader

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kiss-inthekitchen · 2 months

Text

same sky | spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x reader

a late night phone call with Spencer. unruly amounts of fluff. no gender identifiers in this one. apologies to residents of las vegas, i did insult your city's aesthetics. i had to do it. for the plot

word count: 2k

notes: this is a rework of a very old fic i used to have up on ao3 by the same name. it's the second in a series of fics i've updated from my vault of oldies :) this one's for the girlies who liked the banter in no vacancy <3 oops! all banter

“I miss you,” you say into your cell phone, standing on the back porch and gazing out at the sky. It’s late, but you can’t sleep. Spencer has been gone on a case for the better part of a week, and you don’t sleep as well without him.

“I miss you, too. But I’ll be home soon,” Spencer replies, keeping his voice low.

“Is everyone else asleep?”

“Yeah. It’s been a long day.”

“Where are you right now?” Even though you aren’t in danger of waking anyone up, you find yourself mirroring Spencer's tone.

“Best guess, somewhere over New Mexico.” They’ve been in the air about an hour, and given their trajectory, he’s pretty sure he’s right. Spencer is seated at the edge of the couch, his back against the arm of it and a blanket thrown over his legs, barely covering his mismatching-socked feet.

“How come you’re still up?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” he says. Somehow, he can feel you smiling across the line. It makes him smile, too. He doesn’t ask why you’re awake when it’s even later where you are; he knows already. "What are you doing?”

“Looking up at the stars.”

“You know, you won’t be able to see me up here.”

“Ha ha.”

“Here, I’ll open the shade on the plane window. At least we can share the same view.”

“Hm. Almost like we’re together,” you hum.

His heart aches. It’s only been a few days and he still can’t stand it. “Almost.”

For a minute, neither of you speak, looking out at the sky from two different time zones.

“When I wake up tomorrow morning, you’ll be here, right?”

“Mmhm. Maybe even before that,” he responds, a low, soothing hum in your ear.

“Should I stay up until you get here?” you already know what he'll say, but you kinda like the idea of it anyway.

“No, no, it’s at least another four hours. Don’t worry about it. When you wake up, I’ll be there.”

“Sounds good. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

You’d intended to let him go after just a quick call once you realized that the rest of the team were resting not too far from him, but you don’t want to hang up. He doesn’t make any moves to do so either, wanting to hear your voice as much as you want to hear his. “So, how was Tucson?”

“Oh, you know. Hot. Desert-y. Lots of murder.”

“Less murder now.”

“Yeah.”

His voice sounds strained. He doesn’t like indulging in a sense of accomplishment after closing a case, doesn’t ever feel like he’s done enough. He shows up too late and does too little, and then he gets to leave while the families of the victims have to pick up the pieces. You understand why he doesn’t like to think about the work that way, but you’ve tried to remind him that the good he does is incalculable; how many lives saved, how many tragedies avoided. It’s all you can do.

You pivot a little, not wanting him to get too caught up. “I remember, when I first moved to Virginia, I was so shocked at how green everything was. I swore I’d never seen that much green in my life.”

“I had a similar experience,” he says, fondly, aware of your tactics.

“Oh, I can only imagine. I’ve been to Vegas. It’s icky.”

“Icky?” he asks, laughing at your word choice.

“I mean, no offense, but… it’s kinda ugly.”

“Wow, okay, insult my hometown, why don’t you.”

You laugh. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’re right.”

“I know,” you sigh. “Always am.”

“Well, statistically, you actually have a seventy-two percent chance of being right, which is still impressive, but hardly a flawless track record.”

“Spencer Reid coming in hot with the stats. I love when you talk numbers to me.”

“I don’t think we’d have gotten very far if you didn’t.”

“But I think I should be right more often than that.”

“Are you asking me to fudge the numbers?” he asks with put-upon shock.

“I’m just saying, maybe you’ve got it wrong.”

“Oh, so you dare to challenge the accuracy of my eidetic memory? Or is it the statistics that you think I’ve calculated incorrectly?”

“This is affecting my score, isn’t it?”

“I’ll have to factor it in. You understand.”

You giggle, and Spencer starts to feel some warmth come back into him after too many days of stress, doubt, and destruction. He hadn’t been able to talk to you nearly as much as he wanted. And it was hard to talk to you on certain cases, to allow you to make him feel lighter when reality was so dark. When he felt so much weight on his shoulders, when he should be focusing on the profile and apprehending the unsub and… sometimes he just didn’t feel like he deserved to have that weight lifted by you, even for a little while.

“Spence?”

“Will you go inside?” he asks, his tone full of something like reverence for you. “Please?”

“If you insist,” you sigh, already opening the door.

“I do. I do insist, very forcefully.”

“I’m already inside with the door locked.”

“Man, I’m good.”

“Mmhm.”

“Going to bed?”

“Yeah. Will you talk to me for a few more minutes?” you ask, sliding under the covers. Spencer hears the slip of fabric as you pull them up over your shoulders, and it sharpens the ache he feels to be home with you already.

“I’ll talk to you for the rest of the night, if you want me to.”

“No, I don’t wanna keep you awake, too.”

“I probably won’t get much sleep regardless.”

“I don’t condone that,” you say, your frown evident in your voice.

“Noted,” he replies, though he sounds apologetic.

Four hours feels an eternity too long to wait. You miss Spencer, and you hate how tired he sounds. You want to fix things for him. You want to run your fingers through his hair til he falls asleep and you want to make sure his dreams are peaceful when he does.

“What do you wanna do when you’re back?” you ask, hoping that planning for it will make the time go faster.

“Oh, I’m taking a shower and getting right into bed. And you can’t make me get up.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“I’m serious. Don’t ask me to do a single other thing cause I won’t do it.”

You laugh. “For the whole day?”

“Probably. And you better not go anywhere either. We could both use the rest.”

“Okay, rest day all day.”

“We can order Thai though. So we’ll get up for that. But even then, it’s just to sit on the couch.”

“Maybe the floor.”

“I will also accept floor,” he concedes, and then it occurs to him that you might’ve been asking because you want to do something with him. “Is there something you wanted to do the next day though?”

“Well... the saucer magnolias are blooming at the Smithsonian again.”

“Say no more.”

You sigh wistfully. “You’re my favorite boyfriend I’ve ever had.”

“Well, I should hope so,” he says, smiling. “You’re my favorite, too.”

“Aren’t I the only partner you’ve ever had?”

“Ha ha. I had a girlfriend in college.”

“Spencer, you were like sixteen in college.”

“I wasn’t sixteen the entire time,” you hear the eye roll in his voice, “I have three PhD’s, it took me a little while.”

“Well, who is this girl? Do I need to beat her up?” you joke.

“No,” he laughs. “You are my favorite, after all. She wasn’t very nice to me.”

“Okay… so you told me not to beat her up but then gave a reason why I should?”

“Please don’t beat up my ex-girlfriend. I do appreciate your violent impulses though.”

“Mm, okay. As long as you know I could.”

“Sure, angel. You’re very scary,” he placates.

You let out a little gremlin laugh.

“Oh, and you’re delirious,” he notes, an amused lilt to his tone.

“Delirious because I miss you,” you sing, dragging out the ‘you’.

“God, where did I even find a weirdo like you,” Spencer laughs.

“I found you. You attracted me with your peculiar aura and soulful eyes. Trapped me in your… fucking what’s-it-called. Tractor beam.”

“You know, the term tractor beam was actually coined by science fiction author E.E. Smith in 1931 as an updated version of his original term ‘attractor beam.’”

“Hmm, yup. You caught me in that.”

“Did you call my eyes soulful?” he asks, seemingly just processing that part.

“Oh, you don’t like my adjective choice? Next you’ll have a problem with me calling your aura peculiar.”

“I mean… I don’t know that I loved it.”

“Here he goes fishing for compliments,” you sigh, rolling over to your other side and creating a bunch of shuffling noise on the line. Spencer wrinkles his nose, holding the phone a little farther from his ear until he hears you speaking again. “Okay, your eyes are big and brown and beautiful and they contain a standard unremarkable amount of soul, and your aura is also really regular. Regular Reid, that’s what they call ya.”

He’s frowning, you can practically see it, but he’s also fighting off an amused smile. “Well, that one started off nice, at least.”

“God! You’re so difficult. My boyfriend is sooo difficult. Why don’t you come home to me first and then I’ll come up with some more adequate compliments?”

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

The two of you talk for a little while longer, with you telling Spencer about the new coffee shop you’d tried out and how their lavender latte actually tastes like lavender, which is basically unheard of. Spencer tells you about the standoff between him and an all too curious roadrunner that he swears was trying to get into his motel room. Calling it a standoff is generous; the man got bullied by a bird.

You try not to laugh and end up unsuccessful, with Spencer insisting that you were taking sides and he was well and truly in danger, which only makes it funnier. His voice pitches up even as he tries to keep his volume low, and you argue that his energy is just so attractive that even the local wildlife are drawn to him.

“Don’t start,” he warns, overwhelming fondness in his voice.

You make Spencer tell you something boring to calm yourself down from the image you’ve conjured of him being chased by a roadrunner, which, in your exhausted state, is even funnier than it should be. He claims to regret confiding in you with this, but he knows he’d do it again just to hear you laugh.

Instead of telling you something boring, he recites some of the poems he’s memorized over the years. It works the way you’d intended, and you regret it when you have to stop him to tell him you’re falling asleep. He’s just a little smug about it.

“So, you’ll be home in four hours?” you ask, the start of your goodbyes.

“More like three now.”

“We made time go faster.”

“We did.”

“Will you try to get some sleep?”

“Fine. Only because you asked.”

You hum, victorious. “Goodnight. I love you.”

“And I love you.”

Hours later, just as the sun is beginning to change the hue of the sky from deep navy to a hazy cerulean glow, you feel your mattress shift underneath you. You’re barely awake, but still you register the scent of Spencer’s shower gel, fresh and sort of woodsy.

Half asleep, you shift to accommodate him, and he slips an arm around you as you lay your head on his chest. You wrap an arm around his torso and throw your leg over his hips, as close as you can possibly get without literally being on top of him.

You sigh, deep and relieved, and Spencer’s heart stutters.

“I missed this,” he chuckles, resting his cheek against the top of your head and wrapping his arms tighter around you. You just hum in response, the last of your energy before you’re pulled back under. Within minutes, Spencer is asleep too, and the two of you sleep through sunrise and into the afternoon.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #my fics #your honor im obsessed with him

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tender-rosiey · 8 months

Note

1am thoughts, thinking about Gojo introducing kid Megumi to his newborn baby and Megumi being protective of them and even calling them his little sister/brother at one point and gojo is running LAPS he's just overwhelmed and happy over a small yet powerful phrase.

to protect — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: this is so cute i am gonna cry also megumi is like 11-12 here

you’re finally back home, after a long day at the hospital. you’re finally engulfed in the comfort of your bed while your husband is still sat up with his little girl bundled in his arms.

he hasn’t let go of her since you have been discharged.

“’toru, honey, you have to sleep soon; you can hold her tomorrow,” you sleepily murmur to your husband.

he nods and whispers, “I know. It’s just I—I can’t believe it’s real,” he kisses her forehead softly, “that she is finally here, our little princess.”

a tired smile makes its way to your lips. you hum in understanding, gently caressing his cheek. he sighs happily, before looking at you, “but you, missy, actually need to rest. you’ve had a long day.”

you frown and he chuckles, and his hand moves to stroke your hair, “rest, pretty. you were a champion today,” you move to nuzzle closer to his side and your arm wraps around his torso.

and so his little girl is comfortably nestled in one of his arms, while the other is wrapped around you so his hand can pet your head lovingly.

satoru truly feels like he is holding the world in his hands right now.

suddenly, the door slowly creaks open and a very familiar face peaks from it. satoru chuckles, “come in, megumi; they’re both asleep anyway.”

the boy carefully pads his way to gojo.

he is so used to seeing him being all goofy and unserious, so it catches him a bit off-guard how serene and quiet he is being right now. megumi looks at the sleeping baby then whispers, “what’s her name?”

“d/n,” satoru answers fondly.

megumi nods then observes her for a small while, “she really is a perfect mix between the both of you.”

a soft and quiet laugh escapes satoru’s lips, “you’re right,” he looks up at megumi with a grin, “you wanna hold her?”

the boy is taken back and his expression betrays him as nervousness takes over his face. his eyes don’t leave the girl and his gaze is more than troubled, “…what if I hurt her?”

satoru shakes his head, “you scared? she is my daughter; she is the strongest baby ever,” he grins, “no one can hurt her.”

megumi rolls his eyes, but quickly directs his focus to the little girl. he takes a moment, before he extends his arms. satoru gently places her in his arms. megumi’s hold on her is protective, and he doesn’t look as awkward as satoru thought he would.

actually, he is quite the natural.

he gently rocks her, and he can’t help but smile at her sleeping face. megumi whispers to her, “hi there.”

she coos at him, and starts swaying his arms around. she slowly opens her eyes, and a tiny smile appears on her chubby face. megumi’s eyes widen a little, and he immediately looks at gojo, “she is smiling.”

satoru laughs, “she is a very smiley baby, but i think she likes you a lot. she only smiled at y/n and me,” he feels you stir a bit in your sleep.

he pulls you closer and rubs your shoulder then he giggles at how quickly you fall back asleep. while satoru is occupied by you, megumi is staring in awe at little miss gojo.

later, satoru wakes up in the middle of the night to check on his little girl in the adjacent room. he groggily gets up, after kissing your forehead. he walks there, and when he finally reaches the room, he notices the lights are already on, and the door is left a bit open.

he peaks a little into the room, and sees megumi standing by the crib. he is fondly looking at d/n, and gently petting her head. he is whispering something to her, but satoru is still able to hear it all the same.

“don’t grow up to be annoying like your dad, please.”

satoru scowls, and contemplates bursting into the room, and bullying the hell out of megumi. however, he ultimately decides against it. he doesn’t end up regretting the decision.

megumi gently boops her nose, “you’re like a little sister to me now, so I promise to protect you.”

she squeals and makes grabby hands at him, and he chuckles, “you believe me, huh?”

satoru slowly backs away from the door and walks away. when he is a safe distance from the door, he starts running and bursts into your shared room.

he dramatically falls to the ground, “that was… the cutest thing ever! after d/n and y/n’s smiles, of course.”

he stands up, proudly. his heart is at ease as he now knows that there is yet another person to look after his baby girl, if something happens. a content grin is on his face as he enjoys the silence and comfort. it’s short lived, as always.

a pillow is thrown at his face, and he stumbles to the ground.

“that’s for waking me up, satoru!”

“noooo, baby, I am sorry!”

“uh—,” megumi awkwardly stands at the door, holding d/n up, “guys, she pooped.”

satoru grins, and excitedly stands up—with a camera that he got out of nowhere to take photos of her—he coos, “aww! your first shit, pretty girl? what a good girl!”

megumi places her on the changing table beside your bed. the smell of her great ‘achievement’ fills the door, and he takes the chance of gojo being distracted to run out of the room, before another nuclear explosion drops.

the girl is gleefully clapping upon seeing her dad, and he reciprocates the smile tenfold. he gently holds her feet and sways them slightly, “such a big girl, already pooping!”

“want daddy to change your diapers for you?” he coos and the girl just puts her thumb in her mouth and starts kicking her feet. he chuckles and slowly opens the diaper. he is met with the vilest smell, and he can’t believe his sweet daughter can produce such smells.

however, he quickly composes himself, and tries to make his way through the travail of changing the diaper. he proves to be too weak because he, after a moment, looks at you, “uh, babe, teamwork makes the dream work?”

you groan, falling back to the bed.

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @starlostlaiba @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @dazaisbloodybandages @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @the-midnightskies @pianopuppygirl @gojosblackqueen @kryscent @kunikida-simp @whoami-72 @mx-0-child @fiona782 @kisakitwister @imjustasimpxd @psychopotatomeme @dreamcastgirl99 @watyousayin @doobiebochana @laylasbunbunny @hojicha-expresso @4sat0ruu @nineooooo @chuuyasboots @alekssashka7 @rieejjyubi02 @wemma67 @nothisispatrick300 @fallencrescentmoon @etheviese @ho34gojo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @the-weeping-author @stray-npc @libbyistired @anon1412 @anakalana @maehemthemisfit @satorustar

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo imagine #jjk x you #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x you #jjk imagines #jjk x reader #gojo fluff #gojo x y/n #jjk gojo x y/n #jjk gojo x you #jjk x y/n #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #jjk fluff #satoru x reader

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joonberriess · 9 months

Text

⊹₊ ⋆ “that dick make my soul smile,”

TAGS — creampie, fingering, slight degradation, dirty talk (LOTS), jk’s a sleazy mess at first, oc is done, mamas is stressed out, rough sex, jk rocks her shit 💀, some praise here n there, jk’s affectionate tonight, sex tapes r mentioned again, shower sex(?) not rlly, possessive!jk, breeding kink, never ending saga of jk saying “mama” or “ma”

WORD COUNT — 2.6 k

“Trash, trash, trash,” you mumble to yourself while you sort out the mail in your hands, “oh definitely trash.” You sigh and shake your head. You’re knocked out of your thoughts when you feel a pair of arms wrap around your middle and pull you back, “What the hell–” You hiss in surprise.

“Hey mama.” Jungkook’s stupid voice comes from behind, you already know he’s sporting a stupid grin on his fucking face. You shove his arms off and turn around to look at him with an annoyed glare, “Oh c’mon don’t be like that, aren’t you happy to see me? You weren’t mad at me like this yesterday when you had my head between your–” You quickly reach up to cover his mouth and look around the empty hall.

“Are you insane? There’s people around, Jesus, you don’t have any shame do you?” You side eye him, “First off,” you shake your head, “what are you doing here? I didn’t text you and Jiho didn’t ask, so why are you here?” You give him a look, “And if you’re looking for Jiho you’d know he’s on a camping trip with his cousins.”

Jungkook raises his hands in surrender, “Can’t a man come see his baby mama anymore? Shit you suck the fun out of trying to surprise you baby,” he shakes his head but you know, Jeon Jungkook isn’t fooling anyone and certainly not you.

“You forgot, didn't you.” You scoff, “Of course you did, what else did I expect? This camping trip is all Jiho talked about last week and yet you still manage to forget that because you’re thinking with your other head.” You roll your eyes and turn to unlock the front door, “Sometimes I wonder what Jiho even fucking sees in you, you’re a deadbeat Jungkook, a deadbeat.”

Jungkook chuckles, “To be fair my other head is the reason you get a good night’s sleep.” He says with a smirk on his lips as he stands there admiring the way your ass looks in that tight pencil skirt you’re wearing. You turn around to shoot him a glare but say nothing else and simply step into your apartment. Jungkook leans against the doorframe with both arms raised, “So, you gonna let me in sweetheart?” He licks his lips, poking his tongue out to push at his lip ring.

You look into his eyes and then down at his lips, “Well?” You shrug your coat and slip your heels off, “You gonna stand there all night or what?” He chuckles quietly and slips into your apartment, shutting the door behind him.

“This is new.” Jungkook comments, “Don’t remember you ever smoking.” He inspects the ashtray with a noncommittal hum.

“It’s not just for me.” You say uncharacteristically calm, “I bought it for you, figured you needed one since you love leaving a mess on my patio.” You don’t miss the way he smiles fondly at you, “Don’t get too excited dipshit, I smoke too, don't forget that.” You scoff and disappear down the hall.

Jungkook whistles under his breath and follows after you, “I didn’t say anything ma,” he kicks your bedroom door closed and settles himself over your bed, “what’s up with you? You’re not being your usual angry self.” He watches you go around your room putting things away and picking out your clothes.

“I’m tired Jungkook, I had two meetings back to back and all I wanna do is come home to shower and sleep. Can’t do that because you decided to come bother me at this fuckin’ hour.” You mumble and then throw a pair of panties at him full speed, “Don’t think I didn’t see the shit you posted either, you’re not funny.”

Jungkook throws his head back with a laugh, “Really? Cause I thought it was hilarious, I think it perfectly describes us.” He cheekily grins at you with that dumb lovestruck look of his.

You stop to give him an exasperated look, “Jungkook,” sigh, “telling people you’re always fucking your baby mama regardless is not funny, neither is saying ‘I fuck her when she mad at me.’ You’re a child.” You shake your head. You throw more clothes onto the bed and grab your robe and towel, “Don’t make a mess in my house Jungkook, I’m not in the mood tonight.”

Jungkook watches you with a pleased smile, “I won’t.” He reaches for your tv remote, “I’ll be rightttt here, sitting like a good boy for you ma.” He winks, “You just go ‘head and shower.” You eyed him suspiciously for a few seconds, he kept smiling goofily so you ended up walking away with no words.

You know he was up to something with the way he kept smiling so stupid. You grumble under your breath and hope he just doesn’t cause you to have a fucking aneurysm or something. You swear this man was going to send you to an early grave at this point.

Everything sounded pretty quiet out there, you heard Jungkook get up at some point but you figured he was going to smoke or get something. He even left the TV on, which you were grateful for because you didn’t do too well with silence. “What are you doing..” You mutter with closed eyes, just enjoying the hot water running down your exhausted body.

You were in the middle of reaching for your loofah when you heard the glass door open and Jungkook step in after you. “Pass me that bottle over there.” You softly hum.

Jungkook whistles softly and tugs you back into him, “Relax baby, let me do all the work.” He says in your ear, “I got you..” He gently pries the loofah out of your hands, “Worked so hard this entire week, baby deserves to rest.” He squirts some of your body wash onto the loofah. You don’t correct him because that’s true, hell you deserved this princess treatment for putting up with his ass too.

He gently ran his hand over your body, lathering your body up in the soap suds leaving you smelling like strawberries. He doesn’t try any funny business surprisingly, when he finishes he puts his hands on your shoulders and begins massaging gently. A quiet moan escapes your lips as relief rushes through you, “Damn you’re stiff as shit here.” Jungkook comments.

You lean your head back on his chest with a closed eye smile, “You’re finally being useful for once.” You chuckle.

“What are you talking about? I fuck you plenty baby, far as I know this dick makes you fall asleep faster than the fucking melatonin you take.” He laughs, making you laugh a little too. Jungkook lets your shoulders go and wraps his arms around your waist, tugging you backwards so your back is to his front. “Got you something special.” He mumbles into your shoulder.

“Did you now?” you huff in amusement and gently stroke his arm, “What did you get hm?”

“Nothing much, figured you needed a night in so I ordered some fried chicken and soju.” He lays gentle kisses over your shoulder and buries his face in your neck, “I set up a movie to watch too.”

You turn your head to face him, looking into his eyes before smiling softly and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, “Thank you. Guess you’re not a dipshit afterall.” He laughs at your words and you ignore him, opting to press your lips against his once more. Jungkook welcomes you, his fingers dance across your tummy and inch downwards causing your breath to hitch in excitement.

Jungkook’s lips wetly smack against yours, muffled grunt leaving him as he holds you tighter against him. The kiss initially started off slow and more controlled, now it’s wet and messy with sloppy noises filling the space between you two. You pant into his mouth and your eyes flutter open to look at him pleadingly.

Jungkook grins softly as he pushes you towards the glass, “There you go baby, let loose for me, I’ll make you feel so fucking good.” He has you pressed right up against the glass, tits smushed and hands on either side of you. You bite your lip and push your ass back against his thick cock, it’s hot and throbbing against your cheek making you all the more eager to get it inside of you.

“Look at you, pussy’s drooling all over my cock,” he bites his lip and swipes his cockhead through your dewy slick folds, “hear that? ‘s your pussy callin’ out to me baby.” He pushes in slightly, letting the tip pop in with a lewd squelch.

Your lips part in a breathy moan and you push back for more but he stops you with a gentle hand on your hip. “Not here baby, relax for me.” He says as he lets his cock slip out, “Gonna fuck your pussy with my fingers first, get you nice and stretched out before I fuck you with my cock.” He cups your pussy in his hand and lets his fingers slip through the mess dripping from your folds.

Jungkook takes his time opening you up, slipping his middle and then his ring finger into you until they’re knuckle deep. Your mouth falls open but nothing comes out, this is exactly what you needed after those long hours in the office this entire week. Jungkook does not disappoint when he begins pumping them in and out slowly, making sure he hits every nook and cranny inside of you.

“There we go,” Jungkook whispers and begins kissing down your neck, “doing so good for me mama,” he sucks a hickey into your skin, “let go for me.” He nibbles on your earlobe and uses his other hand to wrap around your throat, not choking–simply holding it.

Your eyes flutter shut and you lean your head back on his shoulder, “Oh fuck yes,” you sigh in bliss, “right there.” You circle your hips, gasping when his fingers brush against your g-spot.

Jungkook pulls you back in and kisses up your neck slowly, “You’re so fuckin’ pretty baby, look at you, dripping all over my fingers like a little cock hungry slut. Bet you missed this dick baby, need me to come fuck it in your needy little pussy, have you all spread on the bed for me begging for more,” he whispers as he kisses the side of your face, “you gonna be a good girl and take it?” He jabs his fingers into your g-spot causing a burst of pleasure to hit you.

“Yeah,” you pant softly, “want it deep inside,” you bite your lip and spread your thighs a bit wider, “need it so bad.” You whimper quietly and push back on his fingers.

Jungkook chuckles breathily, “Yeah..” He moves his fingers faster, jostling you as your back arches, “Make it messy for me sweetheart, go ‘head and cum,” he has you locked in place, keeping you from moving anywhere. His fingers piston in and out of you rapidly, loud squelching noises resonating as bits of slick drip down your inner thighs.

“Oh fuck..!” You gasp and clench down, “C-Coming..” You hump his fingers desperately, “K-Keep going, right there, right there,” you whimper out and feel your orgasm come crashing down on you, hitting harder as all the stress lifts itself from your body.

Jungkook slows down until you’re whining in overstimulation, “Clean ‘em.” He slips his wet messy fingers into your mouth, “Fuck.” He groans, “C’mere baby.” He turns you around and lifts you up in his arms, “Need you on my cock.”

“Wait, the water!” You reach behind blindly to turn the knob, groaning when he begins sucking on your soft tits.

“Fuck..!” You throw your head back on the pillow with gritted teeth. He’s fucking you so fast and hard you’re honestly no sure what to focus on anymore..him? The skin slapping? The bed creaking? He’s not making it so easy either with the way he’s groaning and panting right by your ear.

Jungkook has you folded under him, his hands grip the back of your thighs and hold them up while he plows your swollen dripping pussy with his fat cock. The room feels stuffy, sheets are strewn about messily and you’re both laid bare in the open without a single care. Jungkook isn’t faring much better, his moans are choked up and every so often you feel him throb inside you.

“You like that baby?” He pants breathlessly against your lips, “Got you clenching so tight around my cock, practically drooling all over me.” He rolls his hips against yours smoothly, pelvis pressing down and rubbing along your clit stimulating it. His balls press against your taint with soft palping noises every time he grinds into you.

You shakily claw at his shoulders and moan needily, the angle certainly has your legs feeling like jelly and your poor cunt throbbing from the pounding he’s giving you. “Love it,” you turn your face to slot your lips against his messily, “fills me up so good baby.” You cup his face in your hands and hold him in place while he works his cock in and out of you.

Jungkook lets out a muffled moan as he starts picking up the pace, hips smacking into yours over and over again with deafening slaps. He lets your thighs go in favor of planting them on either side of you on the bed, “Hear that sloppy little pussy? Got it creaming all over my cock and makin’ a mess. Who’s fuckin’ you baby? C’mon tell me.”

“You are.” You whimper out, “Shit–right there,” you mewl.

“That’s right sweetheart, no one else can give it to you the way I can. You can fucking try but at the end of the day this pussy is mine to fuck,” slap, “mine to use,” slap, “mine to breed.” He growls in your ear lowly, “Gonna ruin you for anyone else, so next the time you plan on letting someone else have it you’ll be remembering the way I fucked you so good.” He hisses softly and sits up, landing a set of punishing thrusts on you, making your body bounce a bit off the mattress.

Your head rolls back and you let out a series of staccato moans, crying out for more and scrambling to grip the bed sheets, the pillows, the blankets–anything. He’s fucking you within an inch of your life and you feel like you’re about to pass out from the sweet pleasure mixed with a tiny hint of pain from the way his hips smack into your ass. “Jungkook..!” You sob out.

Jungkook grits his teeth and reaches down to pinch your clit cruelly, relishing in the way your back arches off the bed. “Go on, cum for me little mama.”

With perfectly aimed thrusts and the combination of his fingers on your sensitive bud, you cum for a second time on his cock. He leaves you trembling on the bed, whimpering and whining. Jungkook follows up shortly with a low moan and your name escaping his lips, “Fucking hell.” He whispers breathlessly.

You let your jelly-like legs fall on the bed, “I’m not getting up.” You mutter, “Put the chicken away, ‘m going to sleep..” You turn on your side and curl up, shivering when his cock slips out of your battered pussy.

Jungkook hums, “The things I do for you baby,” he sighs softly as he strokes your thigh up and down, “lucky I love and appreciate you mama so much.” He rolls out of bed and slips his loose sweats on.

“You love me.” You sleepily mumble, “ ‘n you love my pussy.. I love your dick too.” You smile in your sleep, a bit delirious from the fucking and the strong orgasm he had given you.

Jungkook eyes you with a grin, “Damn right I do.”

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @frieschan

#bts #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #bts jungkook

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strawbeerossi · 4 months

Text

Stuffing Stockings

Pairing: Wife!Reader x Husband!Spencer

Description: Spencer and you have been married for ten years with a beautiful six year old daughter. Whenever she gives you her Christmas list, you notice something new on the list and bring it up to your husband.

Content/Warnings: Dad!Spencer, discussions of expanding family, interest in being pregnant/wanting another baby, breeding kink, oral sex (f rec), penetrative sex, mention of failed test and disappointment, happy ending.

Word Count: 3.5K

Merry Christmas, my sweeties! Santa T is giving you a present because of how much I love you all!

“Mama, I have my Christmas list ready!” Matilda announced, a bright smile on her face revealing the front tooth that the tooth fairy had recently come to take. She was a spitting image of Spencer, beautiful honey colored irises and soft brunette curls that framed her face, not to mention her intellect and her determination that no doubt her father had an influence on.

“Your Christmas list? You’re early,” You smiled fondly as you looked over at the flower filled calendar on the wall closest to the stove, your coffee cup held comfortably between your hands. “Let me hear it, come on!” You urge on, an excited grin on your face.

You always loved Christmas, however having Matilda just made the holidays so much better. Nothing compared to seeing her excitement whenever you’d place wrapped gifts under your Christmas tree, or when you’d ask her to help you make Christmas treats that her and Spencer would end up eating just days after they were made.

You wouldn’t trade it for anything.

“Well. I would like an American Girl doll, Rebecca Rubin to be exact.” Not a surprise. She loved dolls, her father spoiling her with any accessory or set she asked for. “And then I would like some light up sneakers, please. Sam has some at school and I think they are so cool!” She continued. The rest of the things she lifted were usual for a little girl. Until she got to the last thing on that list.

“And then I want a little brother or sister.” She concluded, a wide grin on your face. The mere suggestion had you nearly choking on the mouthful of coffee, your eyes widening some. “Uncle Luke and aunt Penny said that I have to write it in my list so it happens!”

Penelope and Luke. Classic.

“A baby brother or sister?” You repeated, watching those beautiful curls bounce as the kindergartner nodded her head. “You do know that they won’t be here in time for Christmas if that happens, right?” You asked, wanting to break it gently to her that even if she got what she wanted, it would be well past Christmas before she got a sibling.

“Oh. I know. Babies grow in mommy’s bellies for nine whole months. Which seems like a long time but I think it’ll go by fast! Oh please, mama?! A baby would be cute and cuddly, even whenever they are cranky!”

The begging was tugging at your heart. She really wanted this, didn’t she? You and Spencer were financially stable enough for you to stay home while he worked with the BAU, not to mention that you both could definitely handle Matilda and a new baby. “You know I have to talk to daddy about this before we make a decision.”

After that, the idea of another baby was stuck in your mind. Your first pregnancy was rough, however you still really did enjoy the process of growing a future scholar who would change the world. Just thinking about it had you reminiscing, especially when it came to being pregnant. You could remember every appointment, the announcement to your friends and families, all the excitement that you and Spencer felt with every heartbeat and every little kick.

Your husband had gotten home relatively early on a Saturday evening after a long case in Tampa, Florida. He was toeing his shoes off by the front door in an effort to surprise you and Matilda, the two of you unaware he was even coming home today. You were in the kitchen making dinner while your shared daughter was at the table, happily coloring in her new coloring book.

It was a blissful sight, the domesticity of it all bringing normalcy to Spencer’s busy and sometimes abnormal feeling life. “You two look peaceful,” He decided to speak up, Matilda quickly turning in her chair to look at her father. With a wide smile and teary eyes, she was quickly leaping from the chair to run into your husband’s expecting arms. “Hi!” He chuckled fondly while kissing her cheek sweetly.

“I missed you!” She whined out, keeping a tight hold on her father. “I thought you weren’t gonna home until after Christmas!” She added on, making Spencer’s heart drop. He loved his job but he hated being away for what could’ve been weeks at a time. That was the hardest part.

“Hey, I’m home now and I’m gonna be here for Christmas. I promise. In fact,” He was picking up Matilda while resting her on his hip. “I need to see your Christmas list!” He grinned while bouncing his daughter. “Mama, where’s the list?” Spencer then asked as he turned his attention to you.

“Oh, mama needs to talk to you about that!” The six year old in his arms perked up, making Spencer look at you with an amused, yet questionable look.

“Talk to me? About what? Don’t tell me that Tilly wants to get a car or something already.” Spencer teased. A car might’ve been easier convincing depending on how he felt about expanding the family.

“Not exactly a car,” You laughed a bit while grabbing the list that had been neatly folded and stuck to the fridge with a magnet. “She wants a new American girl doll, a new accessory set to go with said doll, light up sneakers, a dollhouse,” You paused while reading over the last item. “And a baby brother or sister.”

Spencer felt like the items on the list were easy enough. A doll, some accessories, a dollhouse and sneakers. He could knock that out with just one shopping trip. However whenever he heard the last item, his eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “A new brother or sister, huh?” He asked slowly, glancing at the little girl who smiled widely.

“I know the baby won’t be here for Christmas, daddy.” Matilda just knew by the look in his eyes that he didn’t wanna break the news she’d have to wait for that. Her reassurance had him taking in a breath of relief though. That little girl was too smart for her own good.

“Well. That’s a big decision. You think you’re ready to be a big sister? Cause babies are a lot of work.” Spencer asked, a smile on his face at her sheer excitement he was entertaining the idea. “They cry a lot. Plus, they always need a lot of attention. That’ll mean that sometimes mama and daddy will be busy with the baby.” He said softly while rubbing her back.

“I know and it’s okay! Babies need more help because they can’t really eat on their own or go potty in the bathroom, so that’s why you and mommy will need to pay extra attention sometimes. But babies are small and cute! And they always want cuddles!” Now that sounded like something Penelope Garcia would say of course she’d gotten to Matilda about the idea. She was just saying at the office that she was wanting another baby around.

You offered a smile. “Well, it sounds like you’ve put a lot of thought into it, Tilly! You know that me and dad have to talk about it though, as grownups.” You added, although judging by your husband’s wide smile and the twinkle in his eye, he was already sold on the entire Christmas list. Well, maybe this was easier to convince than a new car.

After dinner and baths were in order, it wasn’t long before you and Spencer were tucking Matilda into bed for the night. Gently closing the door behind you both, Spencer finally turned his attention to you. “A new baby. Wow..” He brought up the idea immediately, his arms gently wrapping around your waist. “How do you feel about the idea?”

You smiled, body leaning back against his as you let out a soft hum of content. “Well, at first I was wary. Then the more I thought about it.. The more I really wanted it.” You said softly, head tilting up to face him more. “I mean, I think we’ve got this parenting thing down. Plus, I miss being pregnant and having a baby around. I feel like it’s going to be a positive change for us. Parents of two.”

That was all Spencer needed to hear to have him sold completely. “I agree. We are pretty good at this.” He chuckled a bit while moving to press a kiss to the top of your head. “It’s always fun trying too, huh? Maybe All our practicing will pay off.” He teased, making you laugh as you were playfully hitting his arm. “Hey! I’m just saying what we are both thinking!” He laughed in return.

The both of you had retired to your bedroom for the night, gently closing the door behind you both. “It’s so good to have you home. I’ve missed you.” You sighed, offering a smile as you were heading over to sit on the edge of your shared bed. “It’s just not the same without you home but I know you have to save the world.” You smiled fondly, watching as your husband was shedding from his clothes.

“I know, honey. I miss being home with you and Tilly more than anything when I have to be gone.” Spencer expressed his own feelings before heading over to you, kneeling in front of you with a soft smile. “But I’m glad to be home now,” He began, pressing kisses to your legs while getting settled between them. His hands were working on the button of your shorts before tugging them down your legs. “Besides, I’m gonna be here for the holidays and I even took the time off to make sure of it.” He hummed, his kisses moving to your inner thighs.

“Working on the list early, I see.” You teased, brushing the mop of brunette curls from your husband’s face as he was playfully nipping on your plush inner thigh, lifting his head.

“Guilty. I feel like this is the most expensive present Tilly is getting.” He teased, the both of you sharing a little giggle before he was going right back to where he started.

Those kisses ended with your hips being tugged close to the end of the bed, his tongue lapping over your clothed clit. “God, I’ve missed you.” He murmured, hands working to tug your panties down your legs. Spencer was absolutely pleased with the sight of your glistening pussy, mouth salivating at the sight. It had been far too long for his liking.

“Pretty girl. You look like you’ve missed me too.” He purred, tongue moving to flick over your throbbing bud, only chuckling as you were already clutching his hair. He didn’t make an effort to tease you long, tongue already delving into the warmth of your cunt as he was so focused on drinking every ounce of your essence, taking whatever you had to give him.

“Spencer, fuck.” You squeaked, legs practically locking around his head to keep him in place as he was too drunk on lapping and sucking at your desperate pussy. The thought of a new baby excited him in more ways than one.

There was the calm and innocent way that just had him thrilled to have a new baby and expand your beautiful family. Then there was the dirty and not so innocent side of him that knew there would be a lot of nights where he was stuffing your pussy just in an effort to get that positive test. Just the thought of his cum dripping down your trembling thighs was enough to have him hard as a rock, his cock begging for attention while he was so focused on giving you all of his.

While his tongue feverishly lapped at your wetness, his hands were gripping your hips just a little tighter. Truth be told, Spencer could get off merely from cunnilingus alone. He fed off of your pleasure, the way you would shove his head more into your weeping cunt for more was enough to make his cock twitch in his boxers right now.

Although even through all the excitement, he was soon pulling away from your pussy much to both of your dissatisfaction. “I feel like I’m gonna cum in my boxers and I’m not wasting what I could be giving you,” He added on, breathing labored as he was quickly getting up to shed his boxers while you were quick to do away with your clothes on your torso, shirt and bra thrown somewhere out of sight and out of mind.

With one hand tugging at his cock, the other was quickly helping you scoot back on your bed, knowing you’d end up flying off if he dared pull you even just an inch closer from your current spot.

“Comfortable?” He asked, watching you simply grab his arm to pull him on top of you. You didn’t even mind the feeling of his body crushing you for a split second, you knew that you needed him, now. Spencer was adjusting himself into a more comfortable position on top of you, his hand sliding between your thighs. He collected some of your arousal on his fingers before holding them up to show them off to you.

You knew what was coming next, your mouth now open as you were waiting for the intrusion of his fingers. He learned it was the easiest way to keep you quiet when you needed to be. As you took the digits in your mouth, you were sucking on his fingers. “There we go.” Spencer praised as he was shifting, now pushing his leaking cock into your pussy with a soft groan.

“I love you.” He breathed, letting his hips slowly snap against yours just to build you up for what was to come. Your face was contorted in pleasure as you muffled an ‘I love you’ around his fingers in return.

The thought of you being pregnant was bringing out an animalistic side of your normal gentle husband. He loved seeing you pregnant with your first, it made him feel like he was finally contributing to society in the aspect of bringing another potential genius into the world who would do amazing things. The way you looked swollen with his child filled him with pride.

It was also a bragging right. Yes, he had your hand in marriage but he also cemented the fact you were his. You were getting filled with his cum, begging him to ravage you the way you deserved. He was the only one who could make you feel good.

The thought of you being pregnant with his second child was enough to make his thrusts get harder and faster. It was the ultimate act of love to carry his child, to raise a family with him. The ultimate act of intimacy of allowing him to know the pleasures of a family and a successful marriage.

You were squirming underneath him, eyes rolling to the back of your head as Spencer was all too focused on the images flooding his mind. “I’m gonna cum.” He panted. “You want me to fill you up? Give you a baby? Fuck.” Cursing was pretty rare for Spencer but just the mere slip of a curse word had your pussy clenching around his cock, signaling you were ready as well.

With a few more sloppy snaps of his thrusts, you could feel the warmth of his spent flooding your cunt, your legs trembling as the sensation was enough to have you reaching your climax. “Fuck.” You panted, your husband’s fingers now being pulled out of your mouth.

His face was flushed, brunette curls plastered to his sweaty forehead as he looked down at you. “You know, I wish we had this idea before. Christmas is coming up so soon, we won’t even be able to get a positive test for her in time for the holiday if we get lucky after this time.”

“I think that Tilly is gonna be happy either way, to be fairly honest. You should’ve seen the way she looked at me when she was asking for a new sibling. She was so excited.” You recalled, smiling in content as you were slowly, but surely, catching your breath.

With soft eyes, Spencer leaned down to press a sweet kiss against your lips. “I’m really happy she brought it up first. I’ve been wanting another baby for a while but I didn’t want you to feel obligated.” The confession had your hand lightly swatting at your husband’s chest.

“Why didn’t you talk to me before?! I never would’ve felt obligated. I’ve always wanted a big family, you know that.”

The reassurance had your husband chuckling fondly. “I know, I know. I promise that for the next little Reid, I’ll get to you before our daughter.” He teased, nose nuzzling into your cheek before he was pushing himself out of bed. “Let’s go get you cleaned up, mama.”

—--

It was currently the third week of January, Matilda freshly back in school for the second semester. It was after you dropped Tilly off at school that you were feeling off. You’d been sick the past week or so, mostly just chalking it up to be a bug Matilda seemingly brought home. The more awful you felt, the more you were worrying. Being pregnant wasn’t a problem at all, however the way you would get your hopes up would be.

You’d pushed the idea back for a while, it wasn’t until you were sick for the fifth time that you figured that the test would be better than nothing. You’d only gotten one negative, however with the brain of your husband and his facts about conception, he still gave you some hope.

The sound of the timer going off in the bathroom snapped you out of your thoughts. It was now or never. As you approached the bathroom, you could feel your heart begin to race. If you were pregnant, that would be the best little surprise for your little family. If not, well, you’d at least get to be heartbroken in peace.

Taking in a deep breath and mustering up all of your courage, you were lifting the test from the sink. You felt like you were going to be sick from a mixture of your ailment as well as the nerves. You exhaled the breath you took in seconds before, eyes fixed on the test.

Pregnant.

You nearly fainted, free hand covering your mouth from the surprise. Pregnant, you’re pregnant. Pregnant!!!!

You were thrilled, the test being tucked away in its box before you were hiding it away. You were going to have to show Spencer and Matilda when they got home. You didn’t have the strength to keep it a huge secret and put a surprise together, they needed to know as soon as possible.

Spencer had gotten to go home early in order to pick up Matilda, something rare that Emily gave him the chance to do considering he was away so much as is. If only those two knew what they were coming home to.

You were just getting finished with a snack for your daughter whenever you heard the sound of keys jingling in the door. It’s now or never!

“We are home!” The little voice called from the living room, the child taking off her coat and backpack before making sure to hang them up.

“Hi you two.” You offered a smile, pressing a kiss to your daughter’s cheek, followed by a quick peck on your husband’s lips. “Tilly, I have you a snack.” She hummed fondly, watching the little brunette hurry to the table. “You might wanna sit down as well,” You informed your husband, who raised an eyebrow.

Without question, he’d approached the table before sitting himself down. “Are we in trouble?” He teased, making you roll your eyes fondly.

“No. I just have something I need to tell you both.” You hummed, grabbing the wrapped box from the counter before placing it on the table. “I found this in the closet. It was addressed to you two, I think we forgot it around Christmas.”

“Forgot it? Mama, we never forget presents.” Matilda spoke around a mouthful of apple slices, although her curiosity was piqued as she leaned against the table. “Open it, daddy!” She urged.

As the colorful wrapping paper was peeled away, the male was opening the box. He knew what it was, however he wanted Matilda to have the first big reaction. The minute that the stick was on the table, you could practically see Matilda’s eyes pop out of their sockets from surprise. “Does that say pregnant?!” She asked, looking at her mother with a wide smile. “There’s a baby?!”

Her excitement made you want to cry your eyes out. “There’s a baby!” You gushed happily. “Now, I still have to go to the doctor because I don’t have specifics just yet,” You began, although your daughter was all too happy to quickly run into your body, arms wrapped around your torso.

“We are gonna have a baby!!!!”

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