#just take my hand and imagine this with me

[kamitv]

▷ Premature

Sypnosis . How they react to getting caught jerking off/How they jerk off when you’re not around. / Pairings . (Separate) Toji Fushiguro x f!reader, Geto Suguru x f!reader, Gojo Satoru x f!reader, & Nanami Kento x f!reader / Content . afab!reader, masturbation, pervertedness, praise, needy men, filth, dirty talk, non-curse au, degrading, established relationships etc. / wc . 5.5k

A/N: not proofread in the slightest— I apologize in advance for the errors. This is a mix of two requests; one from my lovely 👍anon; If it's not too much trouble, would you take a request for how JJK men jack it to reader? To a picture, their thoughts, or maybe reader asks them perhaps? & jjk men getting caught jerking off [MDNI]

★ Toji Fushiguro

He’s the kinda guy that you could never be on the phone with past midnight. Why? Cause’ suddenly his voice is getting deeper, his comments are growing more suggestive, and he’s got a hand wrapped around his cock as he gets off to the sound of your voice.

What the hell are you even talking about? He’s got no idea, all he knows is that your soft tone, laced with such a faint sleepiness to it, has his cock aching within his hand.

You wouldn’t even notice he’s jerking off for a while either, not until he groans out your name.

The sound makes your entire body freeze and all you can do is stare at your phone, tipping your head to the side curiously before you tap on your phone to bring the ongoing phone call to the forefront of your screen.

You’d get quiet and he’d get louder, grunting out an all too deep, “Fuck,” That has you smiling to yourself a little. Especially when you hear him grunting as if he were trying to keep his sounds in.

But, your moment of confidence only lasts until the deep baritone of his voice snaps you out of it, “Keep fuckin’ talkin’, doll,” Toji orders and god does he sound sexy like this.

There’s the faintest hint of need in his voice that has you biting your lower lip to hold back the toothy smile trying to present itself on your face. Gulping, “Toji…” You murmur, and your ears don’t miss how he sighs heavily.

On his end, he’s got his legs sprawled out and his head tosses back at the sound of you calling his name, “What?” He’d huff, almost as if what he’s doing hasn’t become rather obvious to you.

Your voice is suddenly closer to the phone and it makes Toji grunt, “You okay over there? Y’sound… busy,” You utter teasingly.

“Mmmh… mhm, m’fine, jus’-, hahh, keep… keep talkin’,” His long pauses and heavy exhales were making you squirm on your end. You could only imagine how he looked right now— big hand wrapped around his cock as he gave himself quick tugs to the sound of your voice.

You start to shift around in your bed and almost forget to respond as you listen closely. Turning your volume up, you could hear almost everything. His sounds became vivid, a messy noise of spit heard as Toji wets his cock up in ways he’s known you to, his hand jerking his dick in quicker pulls due to the slickness of his saliva and precum mixing together.

“Hahhh, fuck,” Toji pants and starts slowing his hand down just so he can speak properly, “Why’d y’stop talkin’? Hm?”

“I uh… I thought I heard something, sorry,” You hum as you fake cluelessness. “Anywho, what was I saying again? Do you remember?”

Ah, you’d decided to test him thinking he wasn’t paying attention at all to what you were discussing earlier. Jokes on you, Toji knows how to multitask (sometimes), “Uh, you were tellin’ me about your day or somethin’,” He hums casually.

“Riight,” You chuckle. An idea pops into your mind and you decide to use his lack of full attention to what you were previously discussing to your advantage, “Well, me and my friends went to this new sweet spot today.”

“Yeah? ‘Nd what else, doll?” Toji sounded so clearly occupied but he was trying his best to just get you to keep talking. Every word that left your lips went straight to his cock.

You grin, “Well, it was pretty hot today so I got lucky they had popsicles! The one I got was suuper big, could’ hardly fit it in my mouth,” You explain.

Was this story true? Not exactly, but when else do you get the opportunity to tease your boyfriend like this?

Toji’s eyes flicker as he processes what the hell you just said to him, his cock twitching at the thought of your lips parting to take something large into your mouth— you knew what the hell you were doing to him and he was starting to pick up on it.

Swallowing thickly, Toji hums, “Oh yeah? Reminds me of a couple of other things that can’t really fit in your mouth…”

“Hm? Like what, Toji?” You murmur innocently.

Your voice had softened by a lot and it drove him crazy. Such a clear false innocence laced into your question had the man picturing your expression. The way you’re probably sitting there with your eyes all wide and curious, batting those pretty lashes of yours like you don’t know what the hell you’re asking him.

Scoffing, “Don’t play dumb, y’know what the hell m’talkin’ about.” Toji drawls out, voice a bit rougher with you.

You ignore his little attitude and let out a giggle, “Do I?”

“Yeah, y’do,” Your boyfriend huffs. His breathing is noticeably heavier and little did you know, he had his head resting back and his eyes on the ceiling as he fisted his cock rapidly, slick sounds masked by his voice every time he spoke.

As if to make his state worse, your voice dips into something more sultry, “I’m really not sure Toji… What else is too big to fit in my mouth? Hm?” You hum.

“Fuck-,” Toji lets out a slight gasp, his breath stuttering for a moment before he grunts, “My cock, baby. Y’know this.”

The way he gave up on getting you to say it first has you smiling, “Mmmh, I dunno Toji,” God you were saying his name too much and it was making his balls ache, “I had your cock down my throat perfectly fine the other day if I recall correctly.”

“Filthy fuckin’ girl,” Toji abruptly rasps out, making you gulp as you felt a throb in your core, “Where’d y’learn to talk like that, huh?”

You snicker, “From my boyfriend who enjoys jerking off to the sound of my voice.”

And just like that, Toji can feel his orgasm approaching— damn you and your slick remarks, you only ever acted like this over the phone. You knew better in person but, he didn’t mind right now.

“Hahh, fuck you,” Toji fires back.

“You want to right now, don’t you?” You were getting confident all of a sudden and he groans before shutting his mouth just to listen to you speak. “Wanna feel my tongue on your cock, huh?”

His hand squeezes onto his cock and a strangled grunt leaves the back of his throat, “Shit-,” Toji’s haw drops a little, “Don’t stop talkin’, m’close.”

“Yeah? Gonna cum thinkin’ about fuckin’ my throat, right?” You murmur.

And he definitely was, it’s all he could think about right now. Especially with how bold you were being, how could he not picture you on your knees and taking his cock down your throat as he face fucks you just to teach you a lesson about talking to him like this?

Then you just kept going, “…Or jus’ from me talking? Y’like my voice that much, Toji?” You ask.

He’s on his end just nodding as his brows furrow— when the hell was he this damn needy for you? “Yes, fuck… fuckin’ hell, yes, I fuckin’ love your voice baby,” Toji tells you.

God you wish you could see him right now. You just know he’s sweating, cockhead angry and leaking at your every word, big thighs parted yet jittery as he gets closer and closer.

“C’mon then big guy, cum f’me so you can come over,” Suddenly your tone is aroused and Toji’s squeezing his eyes shut in frustration.

“S’late, doll,” He argues.

You tut, “Yeah well listenin’ to you jerk off turned me on so now you’ve gotta come over ‘nd deal with it.”

Some nerve you had. As if you wouldn’t be the one all teary eyed and pouty after a few kisses from him…

Yet, Toji’s not thinking about that right now, mindlessly agreeing just because he needs you right now and his hand is starting not to cut it anymore, “Hahhh, alright-, shit. Whatever the fuck you want, doll. I’ll be over in ten.”

You snicker, “Make it five.”

He swears you’ll be the death of him.

Scoffing, “Needy ass girl… agh… can’t wait ten minutes?”

“You couldn’t wait til’ I got off the phone to jerk off?” You argue.

He’s smirking despite the slight irritation that creeps up on him due to how bratty you were being, “…Shut up.”

You smile, “Come shut me up.”

“Oh I’m about to.”

★ Geto Suguru

Moaning your name as if that’ll cause your hand to be wrapped around his cock instead of your panties— Suguru uses your clothes to get off when you’re not around.

He doesn’t bother to call you or text you. It’s usually late when he gets like this so he just uses the lace panties you “accidentally” left over at his place.

Sometimes he’s got the fabric wrapped around his cock as he jerks off and other times he’s got it pressed up to his nose, inhaling what little of your scent he could get as his hips fuck into the O-shape he’s created with his hand. If he inhales strong enough, he swears he can still smell your pussy and that alone makes his eyes roll to the back of his head.

“Fuuuck,” Geto moans unashamed into the air. What’s he gotta hold his voice back for? Even if you were to ever catch him like this, he knows you’re just as much of a perv as he is.

His hand has a strong grip on his base as he gets himself off with your panties. Just thinking about how the fabric clung to your cunt for hours on end has his cock dripping pre onto the floor.

“Fuckin’ miss you, agh,” Suguru would groan thoughtlessly into the air, recalling the last time he had your pussy on his tongue, how sweet how tasted, how addicting you are.

Within said imagination, he doesn’t even realize he’s moving your panties to his mouth, his tongue seeping out and pressing into the fabric as if that’ll give him a taste of you again. Is it the same as sucking on your cunt til’ your legs are shaking? No, of course not. Does it make Geto’s hand milk the fuck out of his cock? Well, yes.

Light and faint whines slip past his lips, “Ha-ahh… taste so fuckin’ good, baby,” Geto groans like you’re right there with him.

Shit, he wants you on his tongue again. He can never get enough of it— the way your pussy sloshes all over his mouth every time he eats you out, how you whine his name and beg him for a break, or even the way you get greedy as your orgasm nears and you start bucking your hips against him.

Either way, it’s all he can think about right now. And it doesn’t get any better when his eyes open and looks down at himself, your panties clung tightly in between his teeth as he envisions you below him with a mouth wide and ready for him.

Oh the way you always take his cock down your throat never fails to make his eyes cross. You’d suck on him like your life depended on it, moaning against his shaft whenever he started thrusting into your mouth or whining when he forces your head down some more.

And he’s so close as he thinks about it more— picturing your wet lips parted around his flushed tip, drool slipping out the corner of your mouth, and your tongue slipping against him languidly-

“Suguru?” The sound of your voice makes him moan in surprise before he’s turning his head to look at you.

Even caught in the act, he only gets turned on even more. His brows tense and he pants heavily as his eyes meet yours, quickly noticing the way your gaze dropped down to his achingly hard cock.

You were supposed to be asleep out on his living room couch where he’d left you moments ago but yet, here you were— standing with your eyes all wide and curious, taking careful steps toward the man as you cross your arms, and giving him this look that drives him crazy.

You gulp loudly as you look up to your boyfriend’s face, “Are those my panties in your mouth?”

“M-Mmhm,” Geto hums with an impatient nod of his head.

Your lashes bat at the man before you find yourself standing right in front of him, placing but a single hand on his chest before taking the other and removing the lace from the man’s mouth.

“That’s filthy Sugu,” You whisper carefully.

The way his lips part and how his eyes lower on you, a groan slipping from him due to how close your body was and the way you’d touched him so softly. “Uhuh, I know, baby,” His voice has the faintest shake to it as he mumbles out an answer.

Smiling slightly, you keep your eyes directly up on his despite his hand not stopping on his cock for even a second, “You could’ve woken me up if you needed me, Suguru.” You utter.

He cracks a lazy grin for a moment, “I jus’ needed your panties.”

You frown and your brows tense a bit, “…Pervert.” You whisper, watching how his body twitches in reaction before he’s leaning his face down and closer to yours.

“Mhm,” Geto hums, “Yeahhh, tha’s me, princess. Keep tellin’ me how fuckin’ nasty I am.” Your boyfriend purrs, earning a wide eyed look from you as you gaze up at him in surprise.

You comply, trailing a single finger down along his chest as you tip your head to the side and speak, “You’re filthy Sugu, gettin’ off with my panties… Bet you wanted to get caught like this too.”

“Maybe,” Geto tells you with that awfully cocky grin on his face, “But you’re not any better. I caught you fingerin’ yourself to my voice last week.”

You gulp, “T-That was…”

He’s leaning down past your face and you flinch as his lips make sudden contact with your neck, “Different, huh?” He rasps out, hot breath tickling the side of your neck.

Tense, your hand stops moving along his body and you angle yourself to look down at how aggressively he’s fisting his cock right now, “Yeah…” You murmur, completely distracted by the sight below you.

His hand got faster on his cock, quicker tugs made the longer you stared down at him and cum leaking from his tip as he grunted against your neck.

“Sure it was,” Geto whispers, but his voice is a lot lighter than you expected it to be. “Now are you gonna just stand here and watch me jerk off or are y’gonna get on your knees ‘nd take care of me?” He asks, lifting his face a little to kiss the space below your ear.

You unconsciously lick your lips the longer you stare down at his cock, watching him drip onto the floor and make the slightest mess before you chuckle, “That’s no way to ask, Sugu.”

He scoffs against you but you don’t miss the quietest whine leaving his throat before he speaks, “Funny cause I wasn’t fuckin’ askin’.”

“Oh?” You snicker at your boyfriend before turning your head to meet his gaze, “You’re mean when you get caught in the act…”

He stares you down and resists every neuron in his body that’s telling him to press his lips into yours, “Am I?”

“Mhm, as if you’re not embarrassed,” You tease. God you were driving him crazy— looking at him so longingly, your lips nearly on his, your body warm with how close you were to him and your hand low and near his cock.

Fuck, one more touch from you and he’d be cumming in seconds. “I’m not.” Geto replies to you.

You pull your lower lip into your mouth for a second and his gaze drops, “You sure? Y’know how long I was watchin’ you before I said something?”

“Fuck, how long baby?” He practically mumbles. He needed your touch so badly, you were too close to not be all over him right now and his restraint was waning by the second.

“A few minutes, saw you puttin’ my panties to your nose ‘nd everything,” As you speak, your hands are lifting and his eyes are widening.

Your arms wrap around his neck and he’s forced to stop his hand on his cock before he blows his load too soon, “Yeah?” He breathes.

You nod and inch closer, “Mhm.”

“Bet that got you all hot ‘nd bothered, huh?” Geto whispers, cocking his head to the side before placing a hand to your waist and holding you tenderly, “That’s why you said somethin’ right? Cause y’like watchin’ me like this?”

Your eyes were on his lips now and you’d half-heard everything he just said, shrugging out a little, “Maybe…” In response before your lips are finally on his.

Geto can’t even control the groan that pours out of him while his lips move over yours, tongue slotting into your mouth and hand squeezing onto your waist as if to tell you not to move.

The kiss doesn’t even last that long before he’s letting out a whine as his cockhead brushes against your body, “Fuck-, enough of this teasin’, I need you princess.”

★ Gojo Satoru

You were going to take it upon yourself to ask your husband how he jerks off when you’re not around but instead of answering your text with an explanation like a normal person— he sends you a video.

Unfiltered, less than a second after clicking on the video, you’re met with his glistening cock on your screen. Slicked with spit and precum trailing along his veins, a pretty pink tip twitching for some attention, and a bright flash from his cellphone giving you the perfect view of his lower half.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t squeeze your legs together as soon as you started the video. Then there’s his voice that you hear about five seconds in.

“Wanted to see how I jerk off, huh? Dirty girl,” Oh his tone was low with you, the sound filling your ears as you bat your lashes and gulped. Thank god for your headphones, despite being home alone, because you could hear every little sound. “You’re lucky I was already in the middle of it when you texted, y’know.”

Although he can’t hear you, you scoff, “Slut.”

“Got’ this hard thinkin’ about you,” Gojo whispers suddenly, his slender fingers wrapping around his cock carefully, “I miss you, pretty girl,” His words and the way he’s slowly touching himself for you has your body hot and it’s only been a few seconds.

Pulling your bottom lip in between your teeth, your eyes narrow on his hand— how tenderly it slides up and up until he reaches his tip, the way his thumb runs in between the slit of his cockhead and he lets out a hiss.

Then his hand lowers and the sound that follows is so wet, “Fuuck, I wish it was you touchin’ me right now. You always make me feel s’good,” Gojo pants unintentionally, “Miss your lips on me too. How long’s it been? A week? Fuckin’ hate leavin’ you for work…”

You chuckle lightly at his moment of rambling but the way his hand picks up in speed ever so slightly has your smile fading and your focus returning. Sometimes you wonder how he even fits inside you— his cock is so long and from his base to his tip, he looks like he’d split you open (he does).

Your thighs are squeezing together again and you’re starting to miss him the more you watch, the vivid and deep sound of Gojo humming your name causing a chill to slip down your spine.

And you swear you were about to get to the best part of the video he’s sent because his hand was moving at a quickened pace but you’re interrupted by an incoming video call from the man in question.

You practically jump out of your skin due to your ringtone before you scramble to answer it.

Batting your eyelashes as the call connects, you swallow hard, “H-Hello-“

“Knowin’ you’re watchin’ that video isn’t enough f’me,” Gojo huffs out— now he’s got the camera propped up for you and you can see most of his body.

His shirt is long gone, same with his sweats, his legs are spread far and wide, hard and throbbing cock standing straight up as his hand tugs at it in needy little pulls. Gojo’s got his head tossed back and you have the clearest view of his sweaty Adam’s apple, a slip of sweat sliding down along his chest.

He’s panting like crazy and his hand is fucking his cock much more aggressively than he was in that video you’d been watching, “Show me somethin’ baby, I fuckin’ need you,” Gojo huffs impatiently as he shifts his head back into place to meet your gaze on his screen.

You gulp, “S-Satoru, I-“

“Please?” He whines so suddenly and it has your pussy throbbing, especially with how he lifts his hips into his hand because of simply looking at your face, “Wanna see somethin’ pretty, show me your pussy, please?”

It's almost embarrassing how fast you move for your needy husband, going to prop your own phone up similar to how he’s done his and then discarding your clothes in a heartbeat.

“Spread yourself apart f’me, baby,” Gojo groans out his instructions and you’re following his every word— parting your legs wider and moving two finds to your cunt to spread your pussy apart for him.

“Mmh, like this, ‘Toru?” You utter with a slightly shaky hand and an embarrassed expression.

You see the way Gojo’s jaw sinks a little and how his brows furrow as he fists his cock faster, almost eagerly, “Juus’ like that, sweetheart-, fuck. I miss bein’ inside you,” Gojo says before tilting his head to really study your cunt, “Look how wet y’re f’me ‘nd I’m not even there, shit.”

You’ve got your pointer and ring finger holding your cunt open and you shift your middle finger to give yourself the slightest bit of relief, “It’s cause of your video..”

“Yeah?” Gojo smiles, “Y’liked watchin’ me jerk off?”

His hand slows, palm steadily traveling down along his shaft as a whine leaves him. Your pretty pussy on full display for him and making his balls twitch. He wanted to be fucking you full of him so badly.

“Uhuh,” Your softer tone hits his ears and Gojo grunts.

“Shiiit,” He breathes out before biting his bottom lip. He’d started to drool without even realizing it and his cock was dripping in cum already, “Look at that pussy leak f’me-, holy fuck.” Your husband moans, “My voice get you like this too?”

You’ve started to tease yourself with merely one finger and you can’t move your eyes away from his needy cock, “M-Mhm…” You hum.

“Aww, baby…” Gojo coos. Then you were slipping two fingers into yourself and trying your best to get off along with him, “Look at your fingers tryin’ t’please you like how I do,” He cracks a smile, “Doesn’t feel the same, does it?”

Shaking your head, “N-No, ‘Toru. I need you.”

“Hahh, need you too baby,” Gojo moans, hand picking back up. The faintest plp plp plp followed his movements as bits of cum dripped from his cockhead and onto the floor, “Look at how fuckin’ hard I am cause of you.” He huffs just before glancing down to himself.

Ah, he was making a mess but he was a bit too dazed with arousal to pay any mind to it right now.

You bite your lip and hum before tipping your head back and shutting your eyes, “Mmmh…”

“M’gonna get home and fuck you til’ we both pass out, I swear.” Gojo huffs. His voice is airy and his hand is getting a bit messy now.

Your lips part and you exhale heavily, “Can’t wait.”

“Yeah? Y’can’t wait huh?” Your husband grunts, practically fucking his cock up into his hand at this point, “Maybe I’ll get ya' pregnant so I have an excuse not t’leave you like this.”

Your legs start to close a little and you moan, “Satoru, m-mgh…”

“Fuck, m’gonna cum,” He groans pornographically into the air, “Wish I was cummin’ inside you, fuckin’ you nice ‘nd full, watchin’ you make a mess on me-, hahh… agh…” His lips quiver a bit as he gets close and he’s panting so hard that the camera is starting to fog up a little.

“T-Toru,” You whine for him— missing him oh so desperately now that you’re nearing your own orgasm.

“Yeah, mhm, m’here baby,” Gojo chants, breath heavy and hand jolting up and down his cock fervently, “C’mon, cum with me. You can do it f’me pretty girl.”

You’re nodding, he’s nodding— both of you are getting there together and whining each other’s names. Gojo’s veins are popping up on his hand with how tightly his gripping onto his cock and his mouth hangs open, eyelids heavy and vision blurring while he moans your name.

“Miss you so fuckin’ much,” Gojo groans finally before he glances to his phone to see you releasing all over your fingers— the sight leads him to cum right then and there with his kegs trembling slightly.

Fuck, he needed to get home soon.

★ Nanami Kento

You were surprised to walk in on your boss jerking off.

“Oh fuck,” Echoed into the air, his voice thick with lust as he hadn’t even noticed you’d entered his office yet.

With the way his desk was, you could see everything. His muscular thighs parted like a damn slut, cock barely tugged out of his slacks, big veiny hand working to bring himself to an orgasm.

Truth be told, it’s your fault he’s like this— his cute lil’ assistant, walking around in those tight ass skirts he’s asked you not to wear thousands of times over again. And yet you do it anyway. Maybe because you know where it gets you with your boss or maybe because you wanted a situation exactly like this.

Sure, he’s your boss but he’s also the same man that fucks you til’ you can’t walk straight whenever you request him to do so.

But this? Well, you’ve never been so aroused by walking in on a man pleasing himself before. It had to be his deep groans of your name or even the size of his cock and how it exceeded the size of his hand, how you could picture your own hands around it and how you know your hands would be so pale in comparison.

Nanami’s got his eyes shut and he’s huffing and puffing through his nose, chest rising and falling rapidly the more he stokes his cock. All he can think about is you and the way you bent over in front of him less than thirty minutes ago.

He had half a mind to call you into his office and tell you to bend over his desk the same way— thinking of fucking your tight cunt til’ you’re making too much noise and he has to shove two thick fingers in your mouth to shut you up.

“Fuuck,” It’s rare you even hear him curse so to hear his mouth so vulgar now has you swallowing hard before you lock his office door with a slight click following.

His eyes bat open and he doesn’t bother stopping because he already knew it was you who’d walked in, you’re the only one who does so without knocking.

“Sir?” You utter gently, making his face twist up in arousal.

“Here, now.” Is all he can grunt out to you.

You’re moving toward him obediently with your panties soaking the closer you get. “Mr.-“

“Kento,“ He utters, “Please, fuck-, just… hahh, say my name, sweetheart.”

“Kento,” You correct in a sultry tone, “I didn’t know you were… occupied in here. What if someone else walked in-“

Nanami rolls his eyes at you and then lets off a scoff, “No one but you would,” He huffs, “Now get on my desk.”

You freeze as you find yourself standing right beside his desk, “What?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself-, just…” He trails off a little once his eyes meet yours and you watch his lashes flutter while his brows pinch together, “Oh fuck, I need… hah, fuuck.”

You chew on your bottom lip before smirking and stepping past his desk, closer to him, “Need what, Ken? Get it out…” You whisper.

“Damn vixen,” Nanami groans as he tosses his head back.

Glancing down at his cock, you watch as his tip grows a bit white— cum peeping out from his fat cockhead and making you swallow thickly.

You then look back up to his face and start leaning down, placing your hands on the armrests of his chair to keep yourself up before uttering, “Do you want me to touch you?”

His response is instant, “God, yes.”

“How?” You murmur with a smirk, shifting your legs so that they straddle one of his, “How do you want me to touch you?”

Nanami opens his eyes and yet again and he grunts at how ridiculously close you are to him, “Anywhere.”

You tease, “Anywhere?”

“Yes, hurry up,” Nanami pleads. His voice nearly went desperate for you and you swore you heard something needy underlining in his tone.

Playing off of that, “Needy are we?” You comment before seating yourself on his thigh.

“Yes,” He gulps and begins to stammer while your arms wrap around his neck, “J-Just-“

Oh he can’t even finish his request before your lips are pressing into his neck and he’s groaning loudly. Cock aching for you whilst your lips move along his tensed skin. Each kiss from you earned groan after groan from him, the sound vibrating against his throat and his hand squeezing his cock tighter.

“Fuck,” Nanami curses yet again as you kiss below his sharp jawline.

“You’re one naughty man, y’know. Did you want me to catch you like this?” You murmur against his warm skin, feeling the way he tenses up to your voice.

Nodding and humming a carefully little, “Mhm,” In response, Nanami’s completely at your mercy now, silently begging for you to continue down the path you’re on.

You smile and glance down to his hand still working his cock, cunt clenching around nothing the longer you stare, “Ken…”

“Y-Yes?” He stutters a bit and mentally curses himself for it— he knows you’ll tease him more about it later.

Planting another kiss beneath his jaw, you chuckle, “You’re drippin’ onto the floor,” You utter so seductively that he just groans and throws his head back again. “Makin’ suuch a big mess all because of… what? Hm?”

“You,” He huffs, “You and that… that fucking skirt,” Nanami says through gritted teeth.

“Well,” You whisper with a slight smile still on your face, “If you have a problem with it you can always take it off of me.”

His free hand is gripping onto your waist faster than you have time to react and you let out a slight noise in surprise. Nanami’s lifting his head and angling himself to your neck, lips latching onto you as he lets out a groan like a man starved.

“Yeah?” He hushes out.

Then he’s pushing you back slightly and releasing his cock, both of you soon shoved to your feet with how quick and swift his movements are. He has you stumbling backwards until you bump into his desk and then there’s a hand grabbing at the side of your neck, tugging you into a deep kiss.

It’s hot and heavy, even as he pulls away from you and pants, lifting a thumb to drag your lower lip down, “Lay back and spread your legs for me then,” Nanami murmurs in that deep tone of his.

You gulp, “Sir, I-“

He cuts you off by slipping his thumb into your mouth, “You said I could get that skirt off of you. Don’t go back on your word and do as I said.”

Gazing at him for a singular moment longer, you lift yourself onto his desk and start parting your legs for the man. His thumb leaves your mouth and his finger is slightly wet as he places his palms to your thighs, slipping his grasp up to your hips and beneath that skirt of yours.

The fabric starts bundling up at you hips and you let out a sigh as you lean your upper half back.

Then, Nanami moves to tug at his tie and sends you a look of warning, “And don’t be too loud like last time… You don’t want others to hear how much of a slut you are behind closed doors, right?”

You release a scoff, “Says the man who was jerking off in his office.”

He freezes before smiling slightly, “Touché.”

#jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo x reader #toji x reader #nanami x reader #geto x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #nanami kento x reader #smut fic #jjk smut #gojo smut #geto smut #toji smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader smut #jjk x you smut #suguru x reader #suguru x reader smut #suguru x you #suguru x you smut #anime smut #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo saturo

[luveline]

I’m obsessed with the sister!hotch and Reid fics. I can’t stop imagining that scene where Rossi goes to Garcia’s house and she’s fresh from the shower with Kevin. But instead is Hotch at readers house and Spencer is there.

—you and Spencer are in the midst of a long weekend together when your brother shows up unannounced. fem, 1.3k

“You’re really handsome.” 

Spencer laughs as you drag your hands back over his ears and through his sopping wet hair. The shower water is blissfully warm and soaking your front as it rains down on his head. You shield his eyes but otherwise have your fun. His hair is softer than anything you’ve ever felt. 

He holds your hands flat to his head. “You’re handsomer.” 

“Am I supposed to take that in a good way or a bad way?” you ask. 

“A good way!” he says, forgetting your hands in favour of guiding you under the water. “Handsome has nearly always been used for men more than women, but it didn’t fall out of fashion for girls until the fifties.” He tilts your head upward and to one side as his own begins to fall the other way. “You’re beautiful.” His voice is warm on your lips, “you’re so–”

His kiss is ridiculous; he kisses like he’s starving. You didn’t realise men could actually kiss like this until you met him. It’s not just in the movies, it’s right now, his hand at the back of your neck, unbothered by your laughing or your hand slipping down his wet t-shirt. 

“This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done,” you say. 

“We were covered in mud.” 

“We should’ve just got naked.” 

“We’re taking things slow,” he says, laughing, “it’s fun. But what are we gonna do about our wet clothes?”

“You got the most of the mud on you,” you say. Spencer had performed a valiant rescue in that when you fell, he was straight down into the grass after you in an attempt to save your jeans. It didn’t work, obviously, but the thought was there, and he’s such a good kisser in the shower that you don’t mind the loss. “I’m gonna get out and get changed, you can have a real shower, okay? I’ll get you a towel and your pyjamas and stuff.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah, it’s fine. I think all the mud from my top half is gone.” 

Spencer takes your face into his hand. His thumb rubs a line along your jaw. “Now it’s gone.” 

You beam. Who knew Dr. Spencer Reid was such a tender guy? You could sort of guess from looking at him that he’d touch you like that, but it’s a contrast, too, to be kissed as though you’re some irresistible siren and to have your face held like fragile glass. 

You step out of the shower still sodden, clothes heavy, and close the frosted door between you and Spencer to strip down. Separated but still shy, you hurry out of your clothes and into a towel, wrapping yourself tightly to head into your bedroom. 

You put on blissfully dry underwear and blot your face. Next is loose pyjama pants and a big t-shirt: you’ve never worried about being sexy for Spencer and you’re not about to start. Your first date was a walk in the park, your second date at the bowling alley. He’s not concerned with that stuff. It’s why his frankness about wanting to take things slow isn’t scary, because when he holds your face and tells you you’re pretty, you believe it. 

“Y/N?” 

You flinch so hard your neck cracks. “Ow,” you whine. 

“What’s wrong?” 

You walk forward before Aaron can let himself into your bedroom. Sure enough, your older brother is in your apartment (as he’s allowed, given that he furnished the entire place and paid the security deposit, and, also, awfully, is a very nice big brother). He’s smiling, carrying two pizza boxes and a carton atop it that smells like French fries. “What have you done now?” he asks fondly. 

“I hurt my neck, you scared me.” 

“If you answered your phone, you’d know I was here.” 

“I was in the shower!” 

“I can see that. You’re getting slovenly, it’s almost midday.” 

You’re so genuinely happy to see him that you forget for a moment your predicament. “It’s the weekend, I can do what I want.” You’re gonna have to let him down, which won’t be easy. “I’m not feeling the best, actually.” 

Aaron lets the pizza boxes rest against his stomach. “How come?” 

“I don’t know, I just feel tired. Maybe we can do something tomorrow.” 

“Honey,” Aaron says, with all the cadence of someone who’s used to rubbing your back when you’re sick, “what’s wrong? Let’s go sit down, I can make you something less greasy.” 

“I think you should just go home, actually. I might be contagious.” 

He looks less concerned and more gutted. “What? I don’t care if you’re contagious. When has that stuff ever bothered me?” Aaron takes another step toward you, his gaze flitting past you toward your bathroom. “What’s really going on?” 

The age gap between you and Aaron is expansive. Your being adopted is another gap, and neither have ever bothered him. The moment you showed up in his life he gave you everything he could manage, which has manifested in long phone calls, in hugs, in homemade soup and delivery when he couldn’t be there. Asking him not to look after you is like telling him you don’t want him to, and it isn’t true. 

He means a lot more to you than whatever awkwardness your confession will inspire. 

“Aaron,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. “Spencer’s in the shower.” 

He squeezes his pizza boxes. “Sorry?” 

“We went to the park and I fell by the lake. He’s in the shower.” 

“But you were just in the shower,” Aaron says. 

“Well, we weren’t in there at the same time,” you drag. 

Your lie is obvious to him, not just as a profiler but as your brother. His brow pinches and his nose wrinkles, not disgusted with you or anything so cruelly stupid, but dissatisfied, at least. “Did you have to tell me that?” he asks, pained.

“I didn’t tell you that, you profiled that, and it’s sort of not what you think anyways! We didn’t do anything–”

“Honey.” 

“I’m really sorry, but it’s not what you think.” 

“Listen to me.” The shower turns off and Aaron’s cheek twitches. “You are a grown up. You can do what you like with who you like. It’s my fault for coming here unannounced, I keep thinking of you as younger than you are.” Says the adult. Then, the more friendly part of being a sibling emerges, “Could you send him home?” he whispers. “I got your favourite.” 

You laugh at his proposition. “That’s kinda rude, isn’t it? Can’t he stay? He’s cool.” 

“I’m having trouble coalescing the two of you as more than acquaintances in my mind,” he says, as though he has much more to say about it, even if he’s smiling. 

Spencer chooses that moment to walk from the en-suite bathroom and out of your room, a t-shirt stuck to his chest with damp, his own pyjama pants baggy at the ankles.

“Hey, are you okay?” Spencer grabs your hand impulsively, twining his fingers in yours. Then he sees Aaron and does a double take. “Hotch?”

You give Aaron a sorry smile. “Does that make it easier?” 

“I’ll wait in the kitchen.” 

You and Spencer watch Aaron retreat. His hand stays in yours, but he squeezes you too tightly. “Wait for what?” Spencer whispers fervently. 

You lean up on tiptoes to kiss his eyebrow. “You’re about to get the shovel talk, I think.” 

“Oh. Great.” He drops his forehead against your shoulder, wet hair dripping a path down your shirt. “This is really bad.” 

“He brought pizza.” 

“I don’t think that’s going to help me.” 

You crane your head and kiss-kiss-kiss the top of his ear. “You’re really pretty when your hair is wet.” 

Spencer murmurs to you reluctantly. “You’re really pretty all the time.” 

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

[reidmotif]

Dialing up for Trouble

Summary: Reader and Spencer were fuck-buddies, until Spencer cuts her off quite suddenly. A party and some risque images may be enough to get them back to their old routine.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: semi-public sex, sexting, mentions of nude images and descriptions of generic lingerie, masturbation (f!receiving), penetrative sex, semi-dom!spencer

Word Count: 3.5 k

Masterlist

Clichés bothered me. There was no other way to put it. I’d grown up hating the likes of love triangles, meet-cutes, chosen ones, and right now, I was being reminded more than ever of that hatred because, what the fuck? 

“Too much of a good thing” was the reasoning Spencer had cited when he proposed we stop sleeping together casually, and return to our previous relationship of  “just coworkers”. I’d let him know how ridiculous I found his sentiment, and attempted every possible method to continue our secret rendezvous, but he was absolutely dead-set on his decision, it seemed.

 No more sex. No more late-night calls. None of it. It was all over. All because of a cliche. 

We seemed to agree on one thing, and that was, yes. The sex was fantastic. It really was that good. While I’d never wish weariness on Spencer Reid, I couldn’t deny that in the aftermath of stress and frustration from whatever life had chosen for him, the way he’d deal with that was absolutely electrifying for me.

I’d find myself constantly breathless, pulled into hotel rooms, storage closets- anything resembling the barest hint of privacy, and allow him to use me as he saw fit. I gave him complete trust and control over my body, and in turn, he rewarded me with some incredibly life-changing orgasms. And for what it’s worth, he seemed to get an equal amount of satisfaction out of our hidden trysts, which only made his recent decision that more devastating.  

It’d been roughly a month since we’d had sex, or anything resembling the sort, and I found myself absolutely deprived. When the FBI gave out invitations to its semi-annual gala, I imagined the festivities would be enough to distract me, but I was completely in error for assuming so. Amidst drinks and conversations, there was the occasional lull where I couldn’t help but absentmindedly imagine the feel of his hands over my skin, squeezing the fat of my hips. His lips trailing up and down my neck, focusing on spots only he knew about. The way his hair would tickle against my thighs when he’d bury his head-

“Hey.” 

The voice breaks me out of my thoughts, and I have to remind myself not to choke on my beverage. There he was. The current subject of my thoughts, standing in front of me, live and in the flesh. Spencer Reid. 

“Hey.” I mirror back, taking a sip of my drink, acting as lax as I could, given the circumstances. “Enjoying yourself?” I ask, gesturing to the party in front of us, the general ambience. 

“You know me.” He replies, pausing for a second, keeping his gaze trained on mine. “Not my scene but.. doable.” 

I chuckle for a moment, understanding perfectly. Spencer wasn’t exactly the most social guy out there. I was honestly surprised he’d chosen to come to this thing at all in the first place. 

“You look nice.” He says, suddenly. “Your dress. It’s nice.” He rushes out the words, as if he’s scared to say them in the first place. 

I smooth down the fabric instinctively, nodding. I try not to let the compliment affect me so much, keeping my head down for a split second to hide the creeping heat emanating from my cheeks. 

 “Thank you. I appreciate it.” 

I surprise myself with my own answer. The silence for that tick is horrible. I appreciate it? Jesus. I couldn’t think of the right words anymore. The correct and witty response that would allow this conversation to flow smoothly. 

 I truly wanted to fuck this man so bad, it made me look stupid. 

And stupid I was, because yet again, I attempted to test the current parameters of our relationship he’d put us on. I swallow my pride, lifting my head to meet his eyes with mine. 

“If you like it so much, you could- you know. Take it off.” I say, biting my lip. There’s a light tease in my voice, but it’s obvious I’m being as forthcoming as I possibly could. No games. No jokes. I didn’t want to dance around it, and I hoped my boldness would reward me as it did previously in the past. 

But no, it seems that fortune does not favor the bold, because Spencer’s immediate response was to shake his head, lowering his voice. He pulled on my arm to decrease our proximity, to the point where it was ensured no passer-bys could possibly hear our conversation. 

“Come on.” He pleads, almost looking desperate.  “I told you we should stop- hasn’t that worked out? We can be coworkers. This works.”

I roll my eyes, letting my displeasure show plainly over my face. “This works?” I say, and the sarcasm is clear in my voice. “Sex worked too, you know.” 

“I know it did!” He says, in a hushed whisper. “But- we can’t. No. It’s not right. Too much of a-” 

“If you finish that sentence, I swear to god.” I say, my expression turning much more volatile. I forcibly shrug his arm off me. “This is stupid.” I continue, trying not to let my voice rise. “I see the way you look at me. I know it was good for both of us. I know you’re thinking about it just as much as I am, so why not!” There’s a hint of hurt in my voice as well. Underneath all the sex, I’d grown to miss the interactions after. The giggles under covers and the feel of his hair in my fingers. I missed him. All of him. 

There’s a miserable pause on his end, and I hold my breath waiting for his next words. Spencer sputters, looking absolutely defeated. “Because- because we just can’t, okay?” He replies, helplessly, stepping back from me, as I’d done with him. “Look. I’m just going to enjoy the rest of the party, okay? Take care of yourself, yeah?” 

Before I can get in another word, demanding a real explanation from the man, he leaves me alone, replaying the words of his confusing outburst in my mind. 

I take a short time to myself, electing to go use the restroom and take a breather from the party, a bit on edge after our exchange. Was it possible he was completely fine with what the loss of our arrangement had done to us? Was I the only one absolutely losing my mind? Any attempt to diverge my attention from the topic proved futile, and  I remained in the closed room, mindlessly adjusting myself in the mirror with no real rhyme or reason. There’s an eventual use of my phone, focusing the camera directly on my face to make sure nothing had smudged or looked off on my face in the time I’d last checked my makeup. In the use of the device, I remembered the pictures I’d taken before coming here. 

The pictures weren’t meant to serve any true purpose. I’d bought new lingerie for this dress, as my previous bras weren’t suited to the cut and shape of the specific piece of clothing, and decided to take a few pictures for myself. It was lacy, and pretty, but nothing truly special. The bra had a slight push-up effect, and the panties were a bit cheekier than my normal, day-to-day undergarments.  The actual lingerie was innocent- harmless, even. Looking at the images right now, though, a salacious idea creeped into my head. 

Under the right circumstances, these could be exactly the catalyst to finally receiving what I wanted. 

I open the messaging app on my phone, finding Spencer’s contact, and beginning to type out a simple message. 

hey. 

The response is immediate. 

What’s up? 

You good? 

Where’d you go? 

I laugh a little. I imagined him scanning the crowd for me, trying to figure out where I’d gone off to. 

all good, don’t worry

so we’re still sticking to the no sex thing? 

I see his typing bubble pop up, then pause. Then starts up again. 

Yes. 

Trust me, it’s for the better. 

I groan internally. Of course he thinks that. Always thinks he knows what’s good for everyone. 

trust me 

if you knew what i had planned for us

you wouldn’t say that

I feel my phone vibrate in my hand, indicating he was now calling me? I hadn’t planned for this. 

“Spencer?” I remark, waiting for his voice on the line. 

“What do you mean?” He says, quickly. I can no longer hear the bustle of the party in the background, so it’s only reasonable to assume he’s moved somewhere quieter. Still, I ask. 

“Are you around other people?” I murmur, keeping my voice low. 

“No. Alone. What did you mean by your last message?” He repeats, quickly. 

There’s my in. I respond, feigning an unmistakable innocence in my voice. “Mind if I show you?” 

“Show me?” The confusion in his voice is palpable. 

“Show you.” I reply, more definitively.  “Check your messages.” 

I bring my phone away from my ear, electing to send the first picture I saw in my camera roll,  which prominently featured my breasts- a feature of mine I knew Spencer was quite interested in. I return to the call, my heart pounding wildly. 

“Did you see?” I ask, hesitantly, when all I can hear is his breathing on the other line. 

The response is a choked out, breathy mess of a sentence. “Yeah- I did. Jesus.” 

“Want more?” I murmur, biting my lip as the realization dawned on me that this possibly had a chance of working. 

There’s a delay in his words on the line, before I finally hear:

“Yes. God, yes.” 

I grin ear-to-ear, beginning to send an assortment of pictures I’d taken previously in the day. Knowing this was having an effect on him, that somewhere in this party Spencer was sitting alone, his gaze trained on his phone intently, did something to me. He was behaving this way because of my body, because of what I could do to him. 

It was hard not to get wet at the thought. 

“You look so good.” He breathes out, and the desire in his voice is unmistakable. 

“Yeah?” I mumble to the speaker. “You think so?” 

“Mhm.” He murmurs. “You’re wearing this right now?” He asks, seemingly needing that confirmation at this moment.  

“In all its glory.” I try not to giggle before murmuring teasingly, “What, you wanna see?” 

“Where are you?” He asks, suddenly seeming very determined. I can hear the shuffling on the other line, indicating he was now starting to move from where he was currently situated. He was completely, and utterly serious about this. 

“Bathroom, on the left corridor of the entrance.” I say, feeling exhilarated at the thought of him meeting me here. This was happening. 

Finally. 

“Stay.” He replies, and the call cuts. 

There’s an impatient itch that creeps up on me during the two-minute wait for him, before I hear a solid knock on the door, and my name being whispered through the door, belonging to a voice I’d grown so accustomed to and fond of. 

My fingers undo the lock, opening it just enough so that he could squeeze through without drawing too much attention to ourselves right now. 

And as soon as he’s managed in, he’s practically on me, devouring me with a kiss with a passion I’d never felt from him before. My hands go to wrap around his neck, pressing our bodies flush against each other, every ragged breath of his shooting directly to my core, which was now throbbing with need. 

“Fuck. Missed this so much.” He breathes out, gasping for air in between our kisses. I couldn’t so much as get a whimper out, before he’d dive right in again. It’s like he wanted to eat me alive. 

And I’d let him. 

I moan softly into his mouth, starved for more contact between us. It’s as if he can read my mind, because in an instant,  he guides us from the center of the bathroom, towards a wall, slotting his thigh between my legs. He takes a momentary break from ravishing me with his lips, now adopting a slower, more sensual pace as he works down my neck, each soft kiss leaving me craving him even more.  

His hands drift down to my hips, keeping me pinned against the wall as he murmured soft praises. My legs felt wobbly, absolutely taken aback by how quickly I could go weak for this man. 

“You like this, mm?” He mumbles, letting his teeth nip over the lobe of my ear, before switching to a more neglected side of my neck. “Like me that much, mm?” 

I don’t care about the cockiness in his tone. I don’t care how smug I render him. I just need him to continue this, for as long as I can have him. 

“Yes.” I breathe out, my voice higher-pitched than it normally would be. “God. Love this so much.” 

There’s a flash of hesitance from him, as he pulls his face away from my neck, staring at my eyes with his own. I can’t dwell on the pause, because for once, I’m finally seeing him. His hair was absolutely ruined, sticking up wildly in different directions. His cheeks were a light pink, serving to make his features even prettier and doe-like than before. But what got me were his eyes. His pupils were blown out, the normal honey-hazel I’d seen on a daily basis replaced with an absolute abyss of black. The darkness served to cause a surge within me, practically launching forward to meet his lips with mine. 

There are no words required for what happens next, as I feel his hand creep up my back, pulling me away from the wall and towards the closest surface, which happened to be the sink. He guides me to bend over, and I do so with no resistance.

 He could have me, whichever way he wanted, whenever he wanted. All I needed was his touch. 

I can feel him crouch to his knees, slowly reaching under my dress to hook his fingers around my panties, slowly pulling them down. I can feel a string of my arousal clinging to the fabric, and it seems Spencer can too, because he practically moans as he drags the soiled piece of lingerie down my thighs. I step out of them quickly, and turn my head back, fast enough to see him stuff the proof of our debauchery down his suit pocket. 

“Eyes ahead.” He whispers, leaning down close to my ear to nip at the sensitive flesh again. 

“Okay.” I murmur, slipping into a more submissive version of myself that he seemed to bring out in me. There’s a sense of relaxation and excitement all at the same time, and I’m absolutely wracked with lust for him. 

His fingers stroke my clit for a moment, applying pressure in just the right way. The movements are practiced, precise and guaranteed to hurl me off the edge if he continues this way. 

“You’re soaked, sweetheart.” He murmurs, almost amazed,  letting his fingers slip away. “All this for me?” 

I can barely respond, whimpering and nodding. “Yes. Please- Spencer.” I beg, needily. 

“I know, I know.” He replies, and I can hear how pleased he is. There’s a certain delight he derives from my submission, and while in any other circumstance, the smugness he displays would turn me off, right now it only served to further my hunger. 

I can feel him start to work on his belt, sliding the coarse material of his dress pants just enough, so that his cock could spring free. I can’t see it, but I can feel it, his tip sliding through my folds, and I clench at the thought of him finally being inside of me. 

Just when I believed his teasing to be done, there’s a knock at the door, and we both freeze. Spencer swallows, and quickly raises his voice. “Occupied!” 

There’s silence, and that previous sense of lust and content drifts back into our bodies, Spencer’s fingers trace up to my face, and he lets his finger slip into my mouth. I can taste my arousal on his fingers, and there’s a genuine struggle on my end to stay upright. How could I, when the man behind me rendered me so indisposed? 

He draws his fingers out of my mouth. “Good girl.” He whispers.

It seems the universe has other plans though, because yet again- a knock sounds at the door. I can hear Spencer’s groan, and watch through the mirror as he attempts to come up with a response that would give us the seclusion we required. 

My patience however, had worn thin. His cock was right there, and I’d be damned if I was forced to wait any longer. I turn my head towards the door, complacency and submission gone from my voice. 

“Do you mind? I’m trying to fuck him in here!” I say, snarking out the words. 

There’s a silence, and a murmur of mortification on the other side of the door. Footsteps. And then at last, silence. 

Spencer quickly leans down to kiss my cheek, mumbling out an “I love you.” 

Before I can even comprehend the words, he’s guiding himself into me, sliding his cock through my walls, and I have to bite my lip to keep a scream in. He feels so fucking good inside of me, stretching me out in ways no man ever could. I can feel the underside of his cock hitting that spongy spot deep inside of me, and my breathing turns rapid in mere seconds. 

“There we go, relax for me baby, yeah?” He mumbles. “Nice and slow.” 

I moan out my affirmative, gripping onto the sink as I let my jaw drop, eyes squeezing in absolute ecstasy. “So good for me.” He murmurs. “So warm and wet, Jesus.” 

And with that, he starts a pace that works for both of us. It’s hard and fast, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. The feel of his cock gliding through my puffy walls is intoxicating, and I can only wonder how I went so long without feeling it. 

It seems Spencer’s having similar  thoughts, because through my moans and his occasional groans, I can feel his grip on my hips get more bruising by the second, marking me as his own. I can hear occasional fragments of words through his noises. 

“Never letting you go. Oh fuck. Fuck.” He mumbles, and despite the overwhelming amount of arousal shooting through me, my heart swells. 

“Me too.” I whimper out, gripping the sink even harder. I can feel my wetness seeping all around us, splashing against my thighs with every movement he drives into me. “Need you so badly.” 

“Rub your clit for me.” He demands, whispering out the words. “Need to see you come on my cock first, pretty girl.” The words are strained, and I can tell he’s doing everything to keep from spilling inside of me prematurely. 

There’s no reason to temporize, and my fingers make their way down to the sensitive bundle of nerves, and the effect is almost immediate. It takes roughly a minute of my incessant rubbing and the feel of him inside me before I’m coming with a soft shout, growing limp against the sink as my muscles twitch and fill me with a deep sense of relief and satisfaction. 

Spencer isn’t far behind me, humping into me a few more times before coming inside of me, the release signified with a loud moan and a sense of warmth flooding my deepest point. He slumps against my back, pressing a few, soft kisses to my neck. 

As we both come down from our highs, I recall the words Spencer mumbled in my ear previously. I let out a self-satisfied giggle, which Spencer smiles at. 

“Mm. What’s that about?” He murmurs. 

“You love me?” I ask, softly. 

A pause. 

“A little.” He responds, voice equally as soft. 

“Is that why you stopped having sex with me?” I mumble out, gently. 

He presses another kiss to the nape of my neck. “Mhm. Please don’t be mad.” 

I let out a soft chuckle. “Not mad. The opposite, really.” 

He pulls me up, causing us both to look at each other. “You feel the same way?” 

I nod, biting my lip. “We could try this out, I think. I want to, Spencer.” 

I stop, and decide I do need to tease him a bit, especially after the sex-less agony he put me through for a month. 

“Though, I do recall someone telling me too much of a good thing can go bad..” 

His lips part in confusion, before he picks up the teasing nature of my words and leans in for a soft, simple kiss. He keeps his forehead on mind, his eyes staring into mine with a gentle reverence. 

“Let’s indulge just this once.” 

holy shit has it been a long time since i've written a fic!! i'm so sorry?! i've been dealing with life and other assorted things and writing sort of took a backseat in that period of time <3 i hope this was okay. as usual any feedback, likes, comments, reblogs are so so greatly appreciated. i love writing for spencer, and i hope you guys like that writing too <3 i'm sorry that the two previous fics i promised seem to be delayed, i swear i'm gonna write those next, but inspiration sort of just struck on my end f or this, and i hope it was good <3 but yeah!! thank you so much for reading and interacting with this in any way you choose!! i appreciate it greatly!!

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid self insert #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds self insert #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fluff

[bucks-babe]

Plastic

Summary: Bucky using a fleshlight for the first time

Warnings: Smut, toys(fleshlight, vibrator), dirty talk, watching porn, overuse of the word fucking, anal?, cum eating, degradation, use of the word bitch, slut and whore, surprise guest at the end

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: I wrote this in like an hour so be warned. I’m kind of in the same headspace I was in when I wrote Be Mean to Me so this is quite dirty and a little mean. Anyway, you are responsible for your own media consumption. Any and all mistakes are my own. Huge thanks to the amazing @buckys-wintersoldier for beta reading; however any and all mistakes are again, my own. Bucky’s a loud, horny, little boy but he is so hot. THIS IS SOOOO HOT!🤭🤭

Bucky knows that he looks insane, standing by the door of his apartment with his ear pressed against it, listening for the footsteps of his delivery driver. He knows it’s coming soon, having his phone in his hand, obsessively checking the progress of his order. His cock, already hard and throbbing, twitches when he hears the elevator ding and he knows that it's his package. Bucky knows the sound of everyone’s steps on his floor.

As soon as the coast is clear, Bucky whips his door open and grabs his box, barely remembering to lock the door before sprinting up to his room, tearing the packaging open on the way. Flinging himself down on the bed, he moans at the sight of the fleshlight in his hand. “Oh, sweetheart, pussy’s so fucking pretty. Look at that pretty clit. Want me to rub it, huh? Make you cum around my cock?”

He tosses the toy to the side, quickly getting rid of all his clothes and grabbing the lube from his bedside stand along with the TV remote. Bucky silently thanks Sam for showing him how to use a smart TV. One of his favorite things about the 21st century had to be porn. He never had this type of porn back in his day. It would only be magazines of naked women, not that he was complaining, but watching people having sex was much hotter to him.

With the TV in his room and no one living with him, Bucky was able to watch porn in HD as loud as he wanted to, and fuck if he didn’t have the strongest orgasm of his life the first time. 

“That’s gonna be too bad, baby, because I’m fucking your ass today. Don’t give a shit if it hurts, you’re gonna take what I give you and let me fill that tight little hole up as much as I want.” He grabs the fleshlight again and pulls the silicon out, only to flip it to the other side where the fake asshole was before putting it back in its casing. 

Without thought he sticks his tongue in as far as he could, ignoring the plastic taste, and groaning at the tightness of it. “Fuck, you’re gonna choke my cock aren’t ya? Yeah, you are, bitch.” He grabs the remote and quickly gets to a porn website and logs in. “What should I watch, slut while I ruin your little ass?” He already knows exactly what video he was going to watch, there was no doubt about it. It’s the same video he’s been playing on repeat for weeks, never able to last the whole time.

The sight of the woman’s ass swallowing that huge cock sends him over the edge. Maybe it was because the man’s cock looked just like his, making it that much easier to imagine he was fucking her, making her hole gape. Her ass bouncing has him hypnotized, not able to comprehend how it was so perfect.

“Can’t wait to fuck that little hole. Leave you open and sore. Makes my dick so fucking hard.” Clicking the video and grabbing the lube, Bucky puts the tip of the bottle in the hole, squeezing until the slick was dripping out. He doesn’t wait for the intro to finish, quickly skipping past it and to his favorite part, moaning immediately when he clicks play and they’re fucking full force, both moaning, skin slapping, and ass jiggling. 

Bucky has to rewind the video to just before the man slides his cock in, wanting to imagine that he was the one fucking her. He spreads his legs out, feeling his sack hit the bed and another idea enters his brain. Rolling over he grabs the vibrator from the drawer before settling back into his spot, this time with the wand nestled under his balls. Turning it to high, Bucky grinds his sack down further, staring at the way they vibrate over the toy.

If he didn’t have as much control as he did, Bucky could have came just from that. He wants so bad to have her lay down on his bed while he straddles her face, smothering her with his sack, grinding and sliding his balls around face, listening to her choke on them, all while fucking into his toy, pounding, pouring load after load into it.

With that thought in his mind, Bucky lines the fake hole with his cock, the cold lube leaking onto his dick causes him to jerk, his tip grazing her hole. “Fuck, bitch, can’t even get the tip in. Don’t worry, I won’t stop. Don’t cry, you’ll get used to me fucking you whenever. Your little holes are gonna stretch and swallow my cock without problem eventually.”

He has to press to get his thick tip to pop it, and when it does Bucky loses his mind. “Ohhhh, fuccckkk. So fucking tight, shit, gonna make me nut already. So fucking wet, fucking made for me. Shitshitshit.” He has to use every bit of self control in his body to not shove the rest of his length inside, not wanting to blow just yet, not when he hasn’t even seen his girl swallow his dick in her ass while bouncing on his lap.

For just a moment, Bucky regrets placing the vibrator on his sack, but it feels too good to take off, now adding wiggles to his grind, moving the vibe all over his huge sack. “Ready for the rest of it, whore?  No? Well too fucking bad because I want it and I’ll fucking take it, bitch.” It takes him a minute to find the remote, pressing play and turning the volume up, fuck the neighbors. 

He groans in frustration when the people decide to take their good ol’ time getting to the fucking, but when he sees her squat over his lap Bucky feels his cock pulse in anticipation. Her perfect ass swallows his cock without hesitation, and Bucky follows. As soon as he gets past the tip, he slams the rest of his length in, frantically bucking his hips to meet the toy, head falling back and eyes shut.. The sound of his cries, the lube squelching and leaking down to his balls where they bounce between the base of the toy and the vibrator, all drown out the video playing.

“Ohfuckohfuck, so fucking good. Oh shit, ass so tight, cock fucking choking. Can’t. Shit, I, oh fuck.” Bucky’s mind becomes mush, only the carnal urge to fuck and fuck hard drive him. “Love this, love th, fuck! Bet it fucking hurts. Can’t do anything but get fucked. Does my big fat cock hurt? ‘S it tearing you open? Just meant to take this fat fucking dick. Don’t care, bitch. Don’t give a fuck that it hurts. Better get fucking used to it because I’m gonna keep you on my cock all the time.”

When he opens up his eyes, that’s when he truly starts to fuck. He’s almost positive that the bed is going to break any second, creaking and shaking with every thrust. He puts all of his strength into fucking up into the toy while both of his hands come down to help his brutal pounding. “Look at that fucking ass, oh my fuck. Take it, fucking take it. See, slut, told you. You fucking like that shit, fucking like being my cocksleave.”

His moans get higher in pitch, balls still slapping against the vibe with every thrust, practically being thrown around with the speed of his fucking. “‘M’gonna fucking nut. Gonna pour every fucking drop in you ass. Fuuuccckkk, wanna cum on it, watch it bounce while I keep fucking you. Gonna bust so fucking hard. When I’m fucking done you’re gonna be gaping so fucking much I’ll shove my sack inside. Uh, huh, you’ll fucking like that.”

He takes one hand off, searching for the remote that’s been bouncing all over the bed, and turns the volume up all the way, not able to hear over the cacophony of sound he was making. “Ohhhhh, shit, ready? Ready for this fucking nut? There’s so much fucking cum, oh fuck. So much, gonna blow. C’mon, keep bouncing that big ass on me. Don’t you fucking dare stop when I nut, you fucking hear me, bitch? You’re gonna milk every fucking drop from my sack. Gonna be more than one tonight. Have me so fucking horny.”

His thrusts become sloppy before he decides to just stop bucking and let his sack rest on the vibe and his hands take over the work. “Ohhhhh, fucking gonna blow, gonna nut. Ready, fucking ready? Bouncebouncebounce, just like that, just like that. FUCK, YES. GIVE ME IT. GIVE ME THAT FUCKING HOLE. TAKE THIS FUCKING NUT.”

The string of curses doesn’t slow down for minutes, his orgasm not abiding at all. “Fuck me! Leaking everywhere. All over the fucking bed. Cum’s filling you up so much can’t even handle it.” He keeps going until he’s almost too sensitive, pulling the fleshlight off wasting no time bringing it up to his mouth, swallowing mouthfulls of cum until it’s all gone. “So fucking good, but I’m not fucking done. Get over here, baby.”

Still laying on the bed, Bucky looks over to you, leaning against the doorframe. “I’m surprised you heard me over all that noise you were making.” Bucky just chuckles and lazily reaches an arm out for you, beckoning you over, which you happily do.

You take off all your clothes before joining him in bed, grabbing the fleshlight and licking the drops of cum he missed off, humming at the taste. “You know, you could have just called me over instead of watching our videos? I’m pretty sure we’re gonna get another noise complaint. The whole building probably heard you.”

Bucky rolls to his side. “Can’t help it, baby. You’re so fucking sexy and the way you take my cock. Can’t get off to anyone else, only my favorite pornstar.” He cuts himself off with a groan.

“I don’t know if it counts as being a pornstar if we only have sex with each other, Buck.”

“Of course it counts. Last time I checked, thousands of people come to watch us fuck each other dumb. Speaking of, we haven’t made a video in a while and I bet they would love to see you squirt on my dick, don’t you think?”

At your giggle, Bucky goes and sets the camera up, making sure not to show anything in the room that would give away who you both are, knowing that you would blur your faces when you go to edit. As much as he loved to hear how crazy men and women go over the two of you, Bucky didn’t want them to know your identities. 

“Sweetheart, you are so fucking beautiful, can’t even put it into words.”

“Don’t have to, show me, big guy because I’m dripping and I need a big cock to fill me up and my boyfriend's right here.” And Bucky’s going to do just that.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes smut #bucky x you #bucky imagine #bucky smut #sebastian stan x reader #james bucky buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes

[uranometrias]

nobody ever loved me like you do, spencer reid

just a little prompt i couldn't get out of my head. this is majority fluff, it got kind of heavy towards the end, but no smut because i'm a coward, reader is a university student, there's an age gap between reader + spencer, unspecified, but reader is over 22. based off of 'pov' by ariana grande.

this absolutely got long as shit, i don't know how to be normal. (5.6k wrds)

"what's on your mind?" you hadn't realized you'd gone quiet until you feel the dip of the couch. it takes a moment to snap out of the little moment you've dug yourself into, but when you do you're pleasantly surprised to see your boyfriend on the couch next to you. he grabs hold of the book you'd haphazardly discarded, and flips it over. you imagine internally he's tsking at you, he was always reminding you to be careful of the spine of the books you read, but you're happy he doesn't make a move to scold you about it now. instead, he closes it, and places it in his lap, letting his eyes trace all over your pretty face.

"is everything okay?" he prods, and in truth, you were fine. you didn't really know why you'd gotten so lost in your head, it just happened sometimes. domesticity was still fairly new, and despite the fact that your relationship with spencer had gotten to the point where you both were comfortable staying at each other's places for long periods of time, you still kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. spencer was the first guy you'd been with that was older, already established, had a 'big boy job' as you so eloquently labeled it. he had security.

not that you were some lazy, unprepared individual letting your life slip by, but you were still figuring things out. you were in university, and you had big dreams and hopes for your future, it just felt like it was taking forever to get there. to your future. everyone was always telling you not to wish away your youth, but by law you were no longer a child, you hadn't been for a while. your twenties were meant to be for 'figuring things out', finding yourself all over again, or that's what you were always hearing. over time it felt easier said than done.

the point was when you were still uncertain about what you wanted to spend the rest of your life doing, it was hard to feel grown up. especially when you had a boyfriend like spencer who was always doing something to raise the bar for humanity. he was a genius, he worked for one of the most prestigious units in the fbi, he was in the fbi... that in itself was an accomplishment. he had phds, bachelor degrees, and an extensive knowledge of literature in numerous languages and texts. to top it all off, he really was a great boyfriend.

you supposed it was just you feeling a bit insecure. you didn't believe that he expected too much of you, but that didn't stop you from putting unnecessary pressure on yourself. "everything's fine." you promise, and you tack on a warm smile to really sell it. the action triggers an involuntary smile from spencer, and you feel a bit faint, just because he's so pretty. "i was just watching you read." you admit, and it was true, you had gotten a bit lost in how quickly spencer was speeding through his own book. it didn't trigger insecurity, it just left you in awe at how absurdly lucky you were to have bagged spencer.

"yeah?" and he's got this edge to his voice that he usually gets when he's tired, sleepy, content. it was comforting, knowing that he was comfortable being here, like this with you. "are you sure that you're alright?" and he's leaning forward, hand cupping your cheek as he rubs his thumb over your jaw, and you lean into him. "you know you can talk to me about anything." he adds, and he's perceptive. you're certain that part of this has to do with his job, and the other part has a lot to do with the fact that he knows you so well.

"i know." you answer instantly, and you bring your hand up to hold over top his. "trust me, i know. that's why i like you so much." you beam brightly, and you lean in and press a quick kiss to his lips. it's a peck, and it sounds like one with the way that your lips smack together. you note his disappointment when you pull away just as he moved to kiss you a bit more fiercely. you find yourself giggling a bit as he pouts at you, and you lean in to offer him another kiss.

"like?" he asks, and you know he's fishing, but for what you're not sure. his eyes never look as bright as they do when he's sitting across from you. it offers you a bit of an ego boost to know that someone as handsome as your spencer consistently looks so enamored and enraptured with you. "i thought that we were a little past like..." he says, and your nose scrunches up at his big doe-eyed stare. "am i wrong about that?" and he holds his breath.

"no, you're right." you promise, and he relaxes. "we're past that." spencer looks relieved, and you wonder sometimes what's going on in his mind. he doesn't say anything for a while, he just looks at you, his thumb continues to draw soothing circles on your face, and you think you might be convinced to fall asleep if he keeps it up. "i'm sorry." you offer, and spencer's immediately shaking his head at you.

"don't apologize." he presses, and he's peeling his hand away from your face. now it's your turn to be disappointed. "and if you don't feel like we're past the 'i like yous'... that's okay too." and he looks sad now. it's your least favorite expression on him, and you wonder if you've done something wrong. "i don't want you to feel like you're rushing yourself, okay? or like you're forcing yourself to feel anything that you don't." he says, and your eyebrows furrow inward, face contorting.

"i don't feel that way." you deny sternly. spencer's head tips to the side, curls following along, and the urge to run your hands through his hair almost chokes you out. "spencer, i don't feel that way." you reiterate, and you hate that his expression doesn't change. you hate that he looks like he doesn't believe you. "i have too many feelings for you." you admit, and you shake your head. "all of the feelings." you insist, and the problem is that you haven't managed to fully verbalize what that means. spencer's told you that he loves you, often.

you haven't managed to say it back, but not because you don't believe it. it's more so out of worry that once you tell him, things will get too real. you'll grow too comfortable, and by-proximity expose parts of yourself that spencer might not be ready for. things that'll make him run for the hills, and take his sweet i love yous with him. "that's a lot of feelings." spencer replies, and he sighs deep, chest moving with the action. you smile, mostly to ward off the tension.

he doesn't return it, and you suddenly feel anxious. "do you want-" he trails off, and he looks conflicted. "if you wanted to break up..." and your heart sinks. "you would tell me, wouldn't you?" he asks, and you immediately reach out for him, his hands curling into yours as you interlock your fingers. you want to slam your head into a wall, mostly for worrying him in this way. The last thing you'd been thinking about was a breakup, in fact, you'd finally resided yourself to the fact that you were in this relationship as long as spencer wanted you.

"do you think that's what this is about?"

"isn't it?" his quick retort makes you frown, and now you're facing one another with matching pouts. "i just want you to trust me with your feelings... all of them." he explains. "even the ones i might not enjoy the most." he treads lightly, and you find that there's nobody in the world who could matter more to you. "and i'm sorry if i haven't been doing enough to let you know that." and you huff in annoyance, but not with him. never with him. with yourself for overthinking.

"you've got it all wrong." you tell him, and you hope your words sound as definitive as they feel. "a breakup is the farthest thing from my mind." you shuffle a bit on the couch, mostly to invade the space he just took. you don't stop moving until he's back in your orbit, your knees brushing against his leg. "i've never met anyone like you before." and it feels cliche, but you suppose you've earned the right to quote the words, because they're true. "i think as far as expectations for boyfriends go, you managed to smash through them all."

spencer finds himself nervous under the onslaught of kind words. he can't look away from you though, because it's so rare when you let him into your head. despite all his profiling skills, you were still almost completely a mystery. he understood your physical cues, but the emotional ones were still hard to pinpoint. "i think sometimes i still keep waiting for you to realize how amazing you are..." and he has that annoying feeling of giddiness in his stomach. it feels childish, but he adores the rush loving you continues to give him.

"i think i'm a little aware." he says, and you laugh. your hands reach out, and now you're the one holding his face. he thinks it's a comfort thing of yours, the way you like to hold onto him when you're talking. his apprehension towards touch was no match for the way your hands on his face brought him a feeling of comfort like nothing else.

"and you still want to be with me?" you ask, and you don't sound bashful, more confused than anything else. spencer's confusion soon matches your own, his eyebrows furrowing as he recites your words over and over in his head. what sort of question was that? "i just mean that there's so many types of women out there... you work with so many." and your mind drifts to his closeness with the girls he worked with in the fbi. namely jennifer jareau.

you'd only met her a few times, you knew she was married with sons, but you couldn't shake the thought that if she wanted him she could have him. she was older, more confident, disastrously pretty. "i just don't understand why someone like you would want to be with someone like me." you express, and spencer is flabbergasted. he forces you to peel your hands from his face, instead choosing to hold your hands and squeeze them gingerly.

"someone like you?" and he wants you to get it all out, every last bit of it, mostly so that he can correct every incorrect notion about yourself that you expose.

"someone who's immature, naive, inexperienced, uncertain about almost every major decision... you know? someone like me." you divulge, and he winces. "you've got so much going for you, i just don't want you to feel like i'm holding you back." you admit. "so when i saw you reading... i don't know-" you trail off, and spencer's eyes shoot across the room to his own discarded book. "i guess i just remembered how incredible you are, and how severely inadequate i must be in comparison." and your voice gets quieter as you finish.

"you could never hold me back." he states firmly. "and even more than that... i don't think it's actually possible for someone to really hold you back." he admits, and you feel him beginning to start on a tangent, though you don't mind. they were far and few in between these days. "to me it always seemed more like an excuse people use to place blame on someone else for their shortcomings." spencer's let go of your hands, and you watch them as he gestures boisterously. "for everything i'm good at, there's so many areas where i fall short."

you don't think you've ever loved him more.

"and who says phd's and fast reading skills are what make a person better suited or fit for anything?" and he knows that you want to rebuttal, so he continues so you don't get the chance to. "my skills help me with the job that i do... we can agree that's true, right?" he asks, and you nod your head. "right. but, you don't want to have my job, do you?" he asks, and your nose curls up. you thought that what spencer did was admirable, you loved celebrating the victories with him, you knew it was important, but you don't think you had it in you.

"no, i guess not." you disagree.

"and you don't need to be called 'doctor' or hold a gun, or kick down doors, in order to be... a suitable life partner."

"you're not kicking down any doors, spencer." you crack a joke, and you like that he laughs, it's the kind that morphs into a toothy smile.

"maybe not, i just mean that out of the two of us, you're not the one who needs to worry about not being adequate... i don't think there's anything in existence that would make me not want to be with you." and you feel bashful, but know full well that you can't pull your eyes away from him. "you're a lot to lose." he exhales, and you blink. "and you don't need doctorates or much of anything for that to be the case." spencer beams a little bit, "you captivate people without even realizing it sometimes." spencer's hand moves to rest on your thigh.

"you think so?"

"sometimes i try and figure out how i got so lucky, and i hope that i keep doing whatever it takes to make you stay." he admits. "does that make sense?" he asks, and you feel your heart wanting to burst out of your chest.

"it makes a lot of sense." you agree. "and i can guarantee that as long as you want me, you'll have me." you promise.

"and if i want you forever?" he asks, and you smile despite yourself.

"then i guess you're stuck with me forever, doctor reid." and he likes the thought a lot more than he anticipated. he thinks that's why he can't ignore the urge to kiss you. he leans forward, lips overtaking yours like a magnet being pulled towards a kindred force. you almost pounce, finding yourself rooted on top of his lap, fingers finally finding solace in his hair, as his hands scope out your waist and the curve of your hips.

you hum when his lips peel away from yours, landing on your neck as he peppered the space with kisses and small bites. kissing spencer was a surefire way to get you both started down a path of insatiability. it was dangerous, but you supposed with the conversation context in mind, it made perfect sense for this to be the end result. still, it feels like there's more to say, and you suppose that it's why you tighten your hold on his hair just slightly, craning your neck to give him all the access he needs. "spence?" you gasp.

he doesn't verbally acknowledge you, instead his arms loop around you, bringing you closer as he proceeds to leave hickeys in areas that would be much too difficult to hide. "spence..." you try again.

"i'm listening." he promises before he's placing a kiss just behind your ear. it makes you squirm, suddenly feeling lightheaded as his grip on your waist tightens slightly.

"can you tell me again?" you ask, and you don't want to ruin the moment, especially after he just sweetly poured his heart out to you. "tell me how you feel about me..." you instruct a bit more impatiently. spencer's more interested in leaving more marks on your skin, but he also enjoys the vulnerability that comes with expressing himself to you. he pulls away from your neck with one last peck, before his lust-filled gaze is locked on yours. you've taken to raking your nails through his hair, gently dragging against his scalp.

"you still don't know?" he asks, and part of you thinks he's doing this on purpose. it's not until you register the slight upturn of his lips that you recognize that he's teasing you.

"is it so bad that i want to hear it again?" you press, and you're feeling a bit impatient, mostly because you're itching to finally spit the three word phrase out, but you want him to say it first.

"no." he denies, head shaking. "it's not bad at all, and i don't mind telling you, but, can you ask me the right way?" and you feel the shift, the way his fingers finally slip under your shirt. it makes you jump, the way his fingertips trace over the skin of your lower back. "what are you fishing for, pretty girl?" you don't have the courage to stare at him anymore, instead you find your head glued to his chest, eyes squeezed shut, as your arms looped around him.

"i'm not fishing." you deny, and spencer presses a swift kiss to the top of your head. despite the desire to 'get to the good part' that you know you both feel, you still enjoy this part. the clinginess, the way he showered you in attention and affection that you had never believed yourself worthy of. he loved you so openly, so easily. it never felt like a burden, it never felt like something he had to try too hard at. you liked that, you liked that he made falling in love so easy.

"no?" he doesn't sound convinced. "what are you hoping i'll say then? i know you have an idea." he says and his chin is resting on the top of your head as he adjusts you on his lap. the tension still rests in the air, but he's holding you like he's comforting you almost, arms looped around you in an almost-hug that feels warm and comfortable and familiar. it's the kind that you could get lost in, fall asleep in. maybe you will, just as soon as you get through this last little emotional hoop.

"you don't know everything."

"did i say that?" he corrects you lowly, he's not impatient with you, and you wonder how long it took him to garner enough stamina to keep up with your sass.

"no." you deny, and he hums in agreement. you've taken to running your hands up and down his back, palms closing and opening as you try and quiet your anxiety. "i want to hear you say that you love me again." you admit, and it feels like a lump is forming in your throat. "i know that you do." you add a second after. "but sometimes i like to hear it anyway..." you clear your throat. "it makes me feel-" and you trail off, because you haven't really gotten over this hurdle.

spencer's smiling, and you know that he is, because as much as he knows you, you think you know him a little bit too. "how does it make you feel?" he asks, and you shake your head, eliciting an amused sort of exhale. "you can tell me anything." he reminds you, and of course you know that. "or we could move on... if it's too much to say right now." he offers you an out like the gentleman he always has been. "do you want to go back to before?" and you definitely want to kiss him.

maybe do a bit more than kiss.

"yes." you agree, but when it seems like he's about to move, you hold him even tighter to you. "wait, no." you deny, and he's exhaling through his nose. you cringe, because you know that sometimes you can be indecisive, but you think about what he'd told you earlier. you remind yourself that he wanted you, and you calm down. "i want to kiss you again." you start, and he doesn't say anything, because he knows you're not finished. "but i want to finish our conversation first." you huff, and he's surprised, in a pleasant sort of way.

"we can do that." he promises, "what do you want to tell me?"

"i like when you tell me that you love me." you admit, and you think it's good that you're not looking at him. you also like that he's still lightly dragging his fingers along your waist, it makes you shy, but you welcome it. "it's not something that you just tell everyone, so i like that you tell me, even though i haven't said it back." you feel like you're losing your breath as you rush to get it out. "and i like how what you said earlier makes me feel."

"how's that?" and spencer is spencer. he likes to drag things like this out, he likes for you to elaborate, to explain yourself. you suppose he likes to hear you just as much as you like to hear him.

"i don't know how to express it really, but it feels nice. 'cause you always sound like you mean it when you say it." you freeze when his fingers stop their slow journey, but you don't have time to focus on that right now. "not like butterflies, but it's like stabilizing." you shrug your shoulders. "and it's not the sort of thing that feels like it comes with some sort of price. like i don't hear it, and think 'oh he's only saying this because he wants to sleep with me', it doesn't-" you inhale. "it doesn't make me anxious or anything."

spencer's disappointed that his memory mostly works for things he's seen rather than heard, because he wants to relive this conversation for the rest of his life. it's a bit unheard of, especially in his lifetime. he's seen people in love, he's witnessed incredible relationships, but nothing he's seen has ever compared to the way that you manage to make him feel. he's had girlfriends, one-night-stands, experimentations, and things in between that felt like they could be the real thing, eventually. being with you though feels easy.

even when things go wrong, when you're too stubborn to communicate, and he's too tired to fight for you to, it still feels easy. like the struggles that come with your relationship are struggles he's willing to deal with. you're someone he's willing to deal with.

"it makes me want to stay." you offer, and it's scary, mostly because you've got the world's worst habit of running away when things get too real. you packed your bags at the first inconvenience, it was who you were, who you had been before spencer. you didn't stick around to fight for your relationships, you didn't let anyone fight for you either. "like... like even if things go horribly wrong, it'll still be okay as long as you still sound like you mean it when you say i love you."

you don't think you'll cry, but you do think once you're all finished, you'll want to stay wrapped up in him like this.

"i've just never met anyone that makes life make so much sense." and your leg is slightly shaking, and you're burrowing even deeper into his chest, holding him just a bit tighter. "so please... can you tell me again?" you ask, and your hands have taken fistfuls of his shirt, curling just slightly as you try and will your heartbeat to slow.

"you all done?" he asks, and you nod your head, all done with talking for now. "i'm so proud of you." and your confusion is back, as well as your ability to talk.

"what for?" you inquire, and he unloops his arms from around you. you don't want to move, but you know where this is going. still, you decide you'll wait until he asks you.

"can you look at me, please?" he asks quietly, and you're immediately pulling back, hands in your lap as you take in all the emotions resting on your boyfriend's face.

"oh, spence!" and you hope he's not about to cry. you've never been privy to it, but you can imagine what it'll do to you in your emotionally high state. "i know that was a lot, i'm sorry." you apologize despite the fact that you've done nothing wrong, a bad habit.

"please don't ever apologize for something like that." he corrects you gently. "i'm proud, because i can imagine how hard that likely was, but you did it anyway, so thank you for sharing how you're feeling with me." you look away just for a second, the moment feeling too heavy for you to manage. you're looking back at him just a moment after, his stare something you've always been terrible at ignoring and avoiding. "would it be a let down if i told you that i feel the same way about you?" he asks, and you wonder if this phase ever ends.

you don't want to wake up one day and find that your smile no longer reaches your eyes when you look at him, or hear his voice.

"no." you answer quietly. "i like when you agree with me, especially about your feelings for me." and it's a small joke, one you partially mean. "but, you still haven't told me that you love me, yet." you remind him a bit more sternly than you have been.

"i know." he retorts, and he looks a bit smug. you want to say that you hate when he gets like this, but you know you're lying. "i'm waiting to see how long it'll take you to crack." he admits, and your nose curls. he beams at you, and you want to glare, just for the fun of it. "why are you determined not to say it first?" he asks, and you cross your arms over your chest, busted.

"you don't know what's in my head." you instead argue, and his eyes roll, but he still seems amused. "i can say it first if i very well wish." you add, and his eyebrows raise, a challenge. unlucky for you, because you had a problem with being challenged. you would always walk right into his trap like a fool.

"so then say it." he taunts, and you realize pride is one hell of a killer.

"fine, i will." you retort, voice laced in mock-aggravation. "i love you." you deadpan, you say it like it's a bother. "happy now?"

"not with that attitude. can you try again? say it like you mean it?" he presses, and you're weaker in the knees than you initially believed. all your bravado goes right out the window, and you're suddenly anxious again, with no bite to curb your words, you're certain he'll hear every ounce of emotion you feel towards him if you say it again.

"spence." you exclaim, and he's not moved. you think you hate him just a little. "it's not fair, you're being mean." you express, looking down at your lap, and you know that you're only behaving this way because you're overwhelmed.

"i'm not." he promises, and he ducks just a little so that you're looking directly at him again. "i wouldn't be, especially not about this." he adds. "i just want you to say it again for me, can you do that? please?" he asks, and you hate how absurdly handsome he is sitting across from you. he's got this way of looking innocent even when he's baiting you, and he's always got this intensity in his stare that's enough to knock the wind out of you. it's kryptonite, and precisely why you concede.

"spencer, i love you." he groans, quietly, but you hear him all the same. he's kissing you before you can react, and it's easy getting lost in moments like these. he always kisses you like he's trying to swallow you whole, too handsy for his own good. his kisses are desperate, tongue swiping out just slightly, likely to test the waters. you match his ferocity, and let your own tongue drag over his bottom lip before you press a bit more forcibly, hurriedly, desperately.

"i love you." you don't know why you're saying it again, but it's not as hard as the first time. you kiss him again, grumbling when he's quick to lean out of reach. you shoot him a sour glance, and he's not moved.

"hey, i love you too." he echoes you in the most love sick sort of way. it feels precisely as you had described it earlier, and that makes you happier. the fact that the feelings didn't change, didn't disappear all because you'd said the three words back. you hum contentedly, and then your head is back on his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat. "does it still sound like i mean it?" he asks, he questions you softly, like he's trying to preserve the moment.

"mhm." you answer quietly, and you strain to kiss his throat once, before your back to resting against him. "did it sound like i meant it?" you mimic his line of questioning, and you're happy when his arms are back around you. he's a lot more respectable this time around, but before long, his hands are finding their chosen place back under your shirt, exploring your waist and hips as you try not to squirm.

"yes." he replies, and you're glad to hear it. "can you say it again?" you suppose in the grand scheme, you do have lots to make up for. he'd probably want you to say it over and over again.

"i love you." it's instantaneous, as is the way spencer's hold on you grows more firm. you hadn't wanted to mention it, the way sitting here like this with him had you itching for more, but it seemed you weren't the only one in that headspace. "spence?" you question, and he's dragging his hand up and down your back, legs starting to bounce just slightly.

"yeah?"

"can we go back to before now?" you ask, and you expect him to be a tease. he could never just give you what you wanted, he always had to drag it out, and make you nervous.

"back to before?" he pries, and he's leading. you huff audibly, and you adjust yourself on his lap, trying to control the way the pit in your stomach seemed to grow warm, heating you up from the inside. "you'll have to be a bit more specific than that, love." he tsks, and you hate him.

"i just-" you frown, hating this part. "i want you." you deadpan. "and you know that, so i don't know why you're being like this." except you do, because it's amusing to spencer to watch you get all flustered and nervous. you don't know why, but it's how he is. you think that one day you'll try your hand at flustering him back, just to see what all the hype is about. "i want you to-" and you're not sure exactly what counts for too blunt with a boyfriend like spencer. "let's f-fuck, okay?" and spencer's got that stupid amused look on his face again.

god, you hate him.

"that wasn't too hard was it?" he questions, and you cut your eyes. you're certain he'll make you pay for the looks, and the smart mouth down the line, but you can't care right now.

"it was excruciating." you correct haughtily. "you should be ashamed of yourself for treating the girl that you love this way." you add, and spencer's got his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he takes you in. you gulp, shuffling just slightly as you realize precisely the predicament you've gotten yourself into.

"do you want me to make it up to you?" he asks, and he sounds breathier than before, which only serves to make you more of a hot-and-bothered mess.

"i-" you blink owlishly, unsure of his intentions.

"yes or no?" he presses, and you think either way this goes, your done for. "you've just got to say the word."

"yes." head nodding, eyes blown to hell, it's easy enough. "you should. you definitely should." you respond, and then he's kissing you again. he's much more intense this time, stealing all of the air out of your lungs as his nails scratch against your skin, you hands moving to cup his face, you hope to keep him anchored to you this way. when he breaks from the kiss again, you're ready to lay into him, only to squeak when he scoops you up, standing up from the chair.

your legs immediately lock around his hips, and you're panting already, he seemed to have that constant effect. all it took was a little kissing, and you were already a mess. "i love you." he says this like it's a reminder, and you are quick to chase his mouth with your own. you could say you were a bit obsessed with the act.

"i know." you reply, and his eyes roll at you, but he still looks as love sick as you feel.

"good. i'm going to need you to remember that, because when we get to the bed, i'm going to do a lot of things that might make you think the opposite." he says this like a definitive promise, and you gasp. "do you understand?" he asks, and you're shivering, the anticipation already managing to strike you down.

"yeah-yes!" you stutter. "i understand, it's okay." you add. spencer's already got this look of pride residing in his eyes, and you know that you're in for it, silly you for thinking love confessions would be enough to get you out of all the backtalk and clear attitude. "i'm ready!" you insist like the eager girl you are.

"we'll see." he retorts.

god, you love him.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid angst #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fic #spencer reid f #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid fic #mgg imagine #mgg #matthew gray gubler imagine #matthew gray gubler

[adriennebarnes]

Book Boyfriend Challenge

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Hispanic/Latina! Reader

Summary: where Y/N records her fiancé reciting lines from her 3 book boyfriends.

Warning: 18+ lines used, spelling and grammatical errors

A/N: I’m also working on an alternative version where Y/N has no idea Charles has read her books and decides to recite the same lines to see how she reacts, let me know of you want that posted. This takes place in the same universe as The Drive Thru Test

Y/N has seen TikToks of couples doing this challenge so he has picked out three books, Throttled by Lauren Asher, Eleven Eleven by Micaela Smeltzer, and Camera Shy by Kay Cove.

“Charles, muñeco, Can you come here for a second?” Y/N called from their living room, the books lined up on the coffee table. Charles comes in from the kitchen.

“Yes, Mon ange?” Charles asked.

“I have another TikTok challenge for us to try.” Y/N said. Charles playfully rolled his eyes and sat besides her on the couch.

“What is the challenge, Mon ange?” Charles asked. Y/N smiled.

“Okay so I have 3 books here, they are my favorite book boyfriends, there’s Noah Slade, Finn Harvey, and Reid Astor Crawford, I personally love these books, but I want you to choose whatever lines from these 3 books and recite them.” Y/N asked. Charles picked up the Throttled book.

“You’ve read an F1 romance book?” Charles asked, flipping through the pages. “Is bandini supposed to be Ferrari? Have you read this thinking about me?” Charles kept asking questions.

“Okay so I’m not the only one who fan casts you as Noah Slade, I’ve seen people make TikToks casting you as Noah, Lewis Hamilton is Jax, Carlos Sainz is Santiago, I’ve seen very mixed opinions about Liam, sometimes is Sebastian Vettel, others it’s Max Verstappen…” Y/N was explaining but Charles cut her off.

“You actually like this Noah guy?!? He’s such an asshole in the beginning.” Charles said as he was reading the first few pages of the book. “I can’t believe people imagine me as Noah.” Charles mumbled. “I’m a nice guy!”

“Muñeco, just pick a line, I’ll let you read the book after we’re done.” Y/N said,

“Fine.” Charles said. It took Charles a few seconds to pick a perfect line. “Okay, I got it.” Charles cleared his throat. “I’m not like any of the guys you’ve been with before. I May not be your first fuck, but I might as well be.” Charles said and Y/N started giggling. “What’s so funny, ma Belle?”

“Nothing, it’s just you’re so cute, I can’t imagine you saying this. But I must admit, your accent makes it hot.” Y/N confessed, kissing Charles. They broke away and Charles said the other line he has chosen.

“You’re a naughty little thing.” Charles tried to say in a seductive matter and Y/N covered her face with her hands.

“Okay that was hot.” Y/N confessed and now it was Charles’s turn to giggle.

“Okay this line is so stupid. ‘But I fuck like an A-list porno.’ I don’t know what more shocking, that the author thought it was a good line, or that you actually like that, I see you blushing, Mon ange.” Charles said and Y/N just shook her head.

“I like the book! Also, lines like this work because it is fictional, if a real man tried to say this to me, I would laugh in their face. But again, I think your accent makes it acceptable.” Y/N said and Charles kissed her.

“Okay I’m keeping this book, I need to know what people imagine me act like.” Charles said, getting off the couch to place Throttled in their bedroom on his side of the dresser. He came back, sitting next to Y/N, and chose the next book, Eleven Eleven. He was skimming until… “HE JUST TURNED 21?!?” Charles asked yelling. “She’s 32, that feels illegal, Mon ange, come on.”

“If you forget about the age, the way he is considerate, sweet, yet kinda cocky is such a turn on for me.” Y/N said.

“Am I competing with your book boyfriends?” Charles asked,

“If you really had to ask…” Y/N muttered. Charles found the line he wanted to refute but first he wanted to have a heavy make out session so Y/N would have full effect of the line. He leaned in to kiss her, he slightly bites her lower lip to insert his tongue in her mouth, both tongues fighting for dominance, Y/N had her hands in his hair but Charles was the one to light pull on her hair, making her moan. They pulled away and Y/N was panting/breathing heavily. Charles had his hand on Y/N’s inner thigh, rubbing lightly.

“Don’t get shy on me now, not when my tongue has been all over this sweet pussy.” Charles said and Y/N just stared at him incredulously.

“I can’t believe you got me hot and bothered just to say that line.” Y/N pouted and Charles laughed. “But that line worked on me, can’t lie.” Charles then cupped Y/N’s face in his hands.

“No man is ever going to make you feel this good. Not the way I can.” Charles said, ending the sentence in a cute little smirk.

“I thought I was going to cringe at some of the lines, but so far so good. You’re doing great, mi vida.” Y/N said, giving Charles a quick peck before he picks up the last book. “I know a lot of people on GoodReads are not a fan but I really liked it, I related to Avery so much.” Y/N said with a pout and Charles faintly smiled while reading the first few pages.

“This Mason guy is an asshole.” Charles said.

“I know! Like who dumps someone in their birthday?” Y/N said. Charles nods in agreement and starts skimming a few pages.

“He’s a boudoir photographer?” Charles asked and Y/N nodded. “You wanna do a photo shoot like that for me?” Charles asked suggestively.

“Sure thing, muñeco, but you’re buying what you want me to wear for this photo shoot.” Y/N said and Charles kissed her temple, still skimming until he found the line.

“Okay, this is kinda long.” Charles cleared his throat and tried to make his voice sound a little deeper and raspy, and looks into Y/N’s eyes. “You’re not going to speak. I’m going to talk to you. I’m going to strip you down and point out all the things I love about your body. For 5 minutes, Lu are going to enjoy a man who you think fucks like a porn star, worshipping you.” Charles recited, not breaking eye contact. Y/N blushed and looked away.

“How the hell did Avery not melt at that. It is official, you can make all these book lines sexy as fuck.” Y/N said and Charles chuckled.

“Well I’m glad this is turning you one, Mon ange.” Charles said, he skimmed until he found another one. “I’m going to make you vocal during sex, I’m going to have you screaming when you come, trust me.” He recited.

“Mm, not as hot.” Y/N said.

“Yeah, I agree, you’re already vocal during sex.” Charles commented and Y/N swatted his shoulder. “What? You’re acting as if that’s not the truth.”

“Just pick the next line, muñeco.” Y/N said.

“I bet you’re so fucking wet for me right now my tongue could go swimming, sweet girl.” Charles said in a raspy voice and Y/N covered her face.

“You did not pick that.” Y/N said.

“But I did. Mon ange, do you real,y enjoy ready these smutty books?” Charles asked.

“Yes I do, I like a modern romance, the smut is a bonus. I find them entertaining though.” Y/N said.

“Mm, should I buy you more books like this then?” Charles asked, pulling Y/N onto his lap so she’s straddling him.

“If you want to, of course.” Y/N said. Charles smiled before kissing her.

“I’m going to read Throttled when I’m on the plane for my next race.” Charles said.

“Okay, let me know what you think.” Y/N said.

Liked by pierregasly and 3,562,924 others

charlesleclerc I discovered that Throttled by Lauren Asher is one of my fiancé’s favorite books so I’ve been reading it and I have a few questions. 1, if I’m Noah Slade despite actually being monegasque, does that mean Y/N is Maya even if she’s Latina and not a Spaniard 🤔? 2, I know I am flirty but I am definitely not as flirty, forward, and cocky as Noah. And 3, I’m a nice guys, a relationship guy, and a family guy, Noah was nothing like that in the beginning! Anyway, not finished yet but so far so good!

View all 10,352 comments

user29 OMG HE’S READING IT!!!!!

user31 Y/N is my favorite WAG and now I have another reason

yourusername muñeco, you were supposed to call me with your thoughts on the book,

charlesleclerc well I’m currently thinking we should recreate that scene in Milano, you want me to choose the restaurant.

yourusername 😳🫣

user35 LORD PERCEVAL!

pierregasly I think you broke the internet, mate

use56 PETITION TO CAST CHARLES AND Y/N AS NOAH AND MAYA FOR A THROTTLE MOVIE!

user23 yes!! They’re perfect

lewishamilton am i supposed to be this Jax guy?

carlossainz55 and me Santiago?

yourusername yes and yes, that’s what TikTok says 🤭

#hispanic reader #latina #hispanic #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc

[sunkissed-zegras]

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐍 ─ PB⁵ ft. UCONN WBB MANAGER

౨ৎ ─ summary | request -> "Okay the fic Idea I was talking about is, Paige scrolling through your phone gallery and seeing the pics you didn’t send her. “Why didn’t you send me this?” and even sending herself some of the photos to her own phone. BUT then, Ms.reader over here didn’t private certain…. provocative and Lewd photos and forgot about them and Paige sees them (her gf just likes taking pictures of her own body🤷🏽 cuz why not)." for my lovely hamster nonnie

─ word count | 1.2k

─ warnings | NSFW under the cut, read at your own discretion. very fluffy and cute, nothing too rough just some good ol' love making. oral (r receiving), praise, nothing else?? enjoy!!!!

─ ev's notes | ok so this also can be read as a standalone buttt this is part of my uconn wbb manager series!

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my wcbb masterlist!

YOU WERE SITTING on your girlfriend's bed, glasses sitting on the bridge of your nose as you tried to finish up some homework.

Paige had your phone in her hand as she scrolled through your camera roll, looking through all the photos you two had taken together over the past few months. Every now and then, she would let out a soft chuckle or an aww as she stumbled upon a particularly sweet or funny photo. You glanced up from your homework every so often, smiling at her reactions.

"Why didn't you send me this?" Paige asked, showing you a selfie of yourself after the gym yesterday. "You looked sexy, wow."

You chuckled, feeling a bit embarrassed but also pleased by her compliment. "I don't know, I guess I forgot to send it," you replied, reaching out to take a closer look at the photo.

Paige laughed, leaning into you as she continued to scroll through the photos. "I'm sending it to myself, that's my new lockscreen."

You rolled your eyes as you chuckled, turning your attention back to your homework. A few seconds later however, you somehow sensed a shift in the atmosphere as you glanced to see what Paige was looking at, only to be faced with a very incriminating photo of yourself wearing practically nothing.

Heat rushed to your cheeks, and you quickly reached out to grab the phone from her hand, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and panic only for her to pull the phone out of your grasp. "I forgot to delete that, sorry-"

"Delete it? Why didn't you send it to me?" Her tone was unusually serious as she glanced up to meet your gaze. "Shit, I mean that was hot."

You wanted to laugh, if this were any situation you'd want to laugh. However, as you met her now very clouded gaze, you felt your stomach flutter in confusion and maybe something... more?

This wasn't the reaction you expected. You were prepared for embarrassment, maybe even some teasing, but not this. Paige's eyes held a seriousness that seemed out of place in the moment.

"Wait, really?" you stammered, trying to gauge her sincerity. "I thought you'd find it weird or something."

Paige leaned back, a small smirk playing on her lips as she studied your reaction. "Weird? No, of course not baby. You look pretty damn good," she took another moment to study the picture as she wet her lips.

You couldn't help but feel a rush of warmth spread through you at Paige's words, her unexpected compliment sending a thrill down your spine. "You think so?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, unsure whether to feel flattered or apprehensive about her sudden change in tone.

Paige's smirk widened into a mischievous grin. "Oh, I know so," she replied, her gaze lingering on the photo before finally meeting yours. "In fact, I think you're hiding a lot more than just this one picture."

Your cheeks flushed even hotter at the implication of her words. You had never imagined Paige seeing you in such a revealing light, let alone expressing such bold admiration. She'd always teased you, you'd been in this relationship (of some sorts) for long enough for this to be normal.

Somehow, this time it felt more personal.

"You really want to see more?" you asked, your voice betraying a mix of nerves and excitement.

"Don't act so shy now, princess. I mean you took these photos and kept them to yourself. You knew exactly what you were doing," Paige teased, her voice laced with amusement as she leaned in closer, her breath grazing your ear.

Her playful tone sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of arousal coursing through you. Despite your initial hesitations, there was something undeniably exhilarating about the prospect of sharing more with Paige.

Before you could even process it, her lips were on yours in a bruising kiss. You let out a soft moan in surprise but slowly melted into the kiss, losing yourself in the heat of the moment. As her hands roamed over your body, you felt a rush of desire coursing through your veins, your senses overwhelmed by the intoxicating sensation of her touch.

Your homework and laptop were long forgotten as she pulled you into her lap. Her lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of bruises in their wake. You let out a soft gasp, your fingers tangling in her hair as you arched into her touch, craving more of her intoxicating touch.

"Paige, please," you whined as she hummed in response. You began to grind yourself against her sweats, your whole body shaking in pure need.

She pulled back slightly, her eyes dark with desire as she met your gaze. "Yes, princess? Please what?" she teased, her voice husky with need.

"I want you," you breathed, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. In that moment, there was no room for doubt or hesitation. All you knew was that you needed her to absolutely ruin you.

With a hungry smirk, Paige captured your lips in another searing kiss, her hands roaming over your body with a possessive urgency that left you breathless. Suddenly, she pushed you back against the bed as you whimpered with need.

Paige found herself in between your legs as she pulled off your silk pajama shorts and then your underwear. You moaned at the sight, your head falling back as she pulled your legs on her shoulders and quickly got to work.

As soon as her tongue met your wet folds, you were already ruined. You moaned at the sensation as your eyes shut, gripping the sheets beneath you. Paige kept gripped your thighs as her tongue delved into your cunt, your whole body seizing up in utter pleasure.

"Fuck," she mumbled into your pussy, sending vibrations throughout your body. You finally met her gaze as you moaned, her hand finding yours, interlacing your fingers with hers.

Paige took her time, slowly licking up and down you as if you were most delicate thing in the world (and you were ─ at least, in her world).

You arched into her mouth as you felt yourself draw closer and closer to an orgasm, your eyes shutting once again. Paige's tongue began to flick against your clit as you let out a shocked moan, your other hand finding her hair.

"Please, please don't stop. Fuck, P," you babbled on as her tongue began moving faster and faster. "I'm gonna cum, please,"

"Cum on my tongue, princess, let it out," she murmured into your pussy as the knot in your stomach snapped. "Good girl, fuck,"

Paige watched you hungrily as you moaned, your legs wrapped around her head as you came. She closed her eyes as she helped you ride out your high, her hands gripping your hips as you caught your breath.

Paige got out from between your legs and pulled you into a bruising kiss. Your hands found her hair in a lazy attempt to keep her close, your lips moving in sync with hers as the intensity of the kiss deepened. The world around you faded into oblivion as you lost yourself in the heat of the moment, consumed by the passion that pulsed between you.

"Mm, I love you," you mumbled into the kiss as she let out a small laugh. She pulled away to really take in your fucked-out state; your messy hair, your half-lidded eyes, your bruised lips. God, she was so whipped.

"I love you too, sweet girl," Paige whispered, her voice filled with adoration as she caressed your cheek, her thumb tracing the curve of your lips.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#paige bueckers x reader #paige buckets #paige bueckers #paige bueckers fanfiction #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers headcannons #paige bueckers fic #uconn huskies #uconn #uconn wbb #uconn wbb x reader #uconn women’s basketball #ncaa wbb #ncaa women’s basketball #uconn women's basketball #women's college basketball #paige bueckers fluff #uconn wbb fic #wcbb #wcbb x reader #wbb x reader #wnba basketball #ncaaw #uconn wbb manager ★

[captainreecejames]

Pick Me Up?

Charles Leclerc imagine

summary : the four times Charles picks you up and the one time you pick him up.

pairing : Charles leclerc x fem!reader

I believe there is no mention of YN, but I'm not 100% sure.

word count : 3.5 k

warnings : none that I can think of

note : I only read over this once so if there's spelling errors or other mistakes that's what happened. Next up should either be Logan Sargeant my ex is a footballer or the social media accompanying fic. Anyways, enjoy and me if you like it!!

1. Charles picks you up from a bad date

The date had started fine.

Actually more than fine. He showed up on time, was pleasant to the waitress, and had good manners. Really, he would have even gotten a second date, if he hadn’t brought up Formula 1.

It’s a topic you tend to avoid when meeting new people, as they either tend to know a lot already and want to use you to get to Charles or they don’t know anything and assume that you are using Charles, when they know nothing about your relationship. It was a hassle you learned to shut down before it even began.

But back at the date with Vince, he had brought it up and that’s when things started to go down hill. 

Despite your best efforts, when people brought up Formula 1, you grew taller and more focused on the conversation, it’s like a switch flipped. While Charles driving for the best known team certainly helped your interest, everything about the sport was fascinating for you and you couldn’t help but geek out when the topic came up. 

Vince noticed your reaction and his casual demeanor turned critical. “You only know about it because you think the drivers are hot.” That had made your smile drop instantly, brows furrowing as you tried to respond. “Probably can’t even name all the teams.” He thinks that stumps you, but you’ve dealt with enough shitty men in this sport, you’re not taking anything more from this wanna-be investor.

“I don’t have to prove my knowledge of F1 to you,” you state, deciding that this dinner is now over.

“Oh, now I know you can’t even name five drivers.” Your frown deepens, picking up your napkin and placing it on the table next to your plate. It had gone down hill so fast, how disappointing.

“Your attempt at insulting me into submission is falling flat.” His eyes are wide at your comment, and he must not have expected you realize his move. You flag the waitress over and she walks quickly back to your table, noticing how you’re not smiling anymore. Seems like this date is a bust, so another twenty note must be added to the jar of bets amongst the staff of this restaurant.

(You and Charles visit the place often as it was the sight of your first job, but also the food and people were lovely, and bringing a first date here was the safest option.)

(So they all knew you and were betting on when the dam breaks and you two admit your feelings for each other.)

You hand Lucille enough money to cover both yours and Vince’s meals, not bothering with the change. Your goal now is to get as far away from Vince as soon as possible. He  opens his mouth to say something again, but you are already out of your seat and walking towards the front door, phone calling Charles to pick you up.

He answers on the first ring, always on alert when you go on dates.

(Not because he’s jealous or anything, but because he’s worried about you and needs to make sure that you stay safe. He’s been tempted to bribe the staff of your little restaurant for information during dates after a particularly bad one, but his mom talked him out of it.)

“Ma cherie, is everything alright?” You roll your eyes at his question, just knowing that there’s a smirk on his face right now. He didn’t have a great feeling about Vince, but he wouldn’t say I told you so.

“Can you pick me up please?” You barely need to finish your question before he answers with an ‘of course, I’m already on my way.’

“Need me to stay on the phone?” You glance back at the restaurant, looking in the window to find Vince scrolling away on his phone, oblivious to the movement around him.

“No, focus on the streets. I’ll be fine.” Charles hums his answer and hangs up, leaving you to look busy on the streets of Monte Carlo.

He pulls up not even two minutes later, stopping the car haphazardly in a tow-away zone. You rush to the side, opening the door and shimmying in as fast as you can because even though this is Charles Leclerc’s very recognizable Pista, you don’t want to risk any tickets. While he pulls away you realize how fast he showed up and a question forms on your lips, but he speaks before you have the chance to ask.

“I was only down the road at the marina.” He seems sheepish, like the answer is rehearsed, but you don’t push it because you’re still grateful that he showed up. What would you do without him to pick up after a bad date?

2. Charles picks you cause your car breaks down

This time when you call him should feel less embarrassing than other times, but really it only feels worse. How are you going to admit to him that the car you’ve been saving up for and desperately wanting since you were 7 just crapped out on you before you could even get out of the parking garage? Especially when he advised you against such car. It would be humiliating. 

Alas, you made the call, practicing in your mind what you would say to him. 

Again, he picks up on the first ring, though this time you’re not sure as to why he answered so fast.

“Is everything alright, ma cherie?” You blush, grateful he can’t see your face.

“I’m stuck,” you exhale, ready to face what ever he has in store for you.

“Stuck?”

“My car won’t start and I’m still at work, everyone else has left and I’m in need of a ride.”

“Okay,” he answers, relief filling you. “I’m leaving the gym with Andrea, I should be there in 15 minutes. Don’t talk to any strangers.”

“Love you too, Charles.” You roll your eyes, hanging up on him and sitting in the drivers seat of your beloved, but broken, car. That’s some good money about to go down the drain for the tow and mechanic fees. As you debate calling your dad to help you out with diagnosing what’s wrong with the car, a familiar rumble enters the garage, and you see the ever famous Pista pulling up next to you, a smirking Charles in the driver’s seat.

“Someone call for a pick up?” You want to roll your eyes at him, but the smile on his face makes the irritation melt away. After a long day at work, made even longer because your stupid car that you really wanted wouldn’t start, all you feel is relief and affection for the man in front of you, and it’s a little too overwhelming.

Tears pool in your eyes and Charles frowns, cutting the engine and climbing out so he can hug you. He only admits it to his mother, but holding you is just as good a driving when he’s driving on the track with a car that responds to his every command.

(And what he won’t admit to anyone is that if holding you feels like that, then kissing you must feel like he’s just won a world championship.)

“Ma cherie,” he whispers, pulling your body into his own and stroking your hair to soothe you. He doesn’t ask any questions, which you’re grateful for, you don’t actually know what’s wrong other than everything is just too much and him showing up makes you feel safe enough to let it all out.

When you’ve finally slowed your breathing and made yourself relax he pulls away, looking at you with so much love in his eyes that you’re not sure if you’re dreaming. “Now you know what it felt like to drive under Binnotto.”

The comment is a shock and it makes you snort, which is what Charles was going for. Your laugh that he thinks could make him smile even in the darkest moods. “You can’t say that Mr. Ferrari.” You smack his chest while shaking your head, but the rueful smile on your face tells him that you still haven’t gotten over the team principle screwing him over.

Then the smile eases into something much more natural, and he knows the tense moment has passed. “Takeout?” he suggests, ushering you to the passenger side of his car. You nod at him and he’s pretty sure that he would do anything to make you smile.

3. Charles picks you up for a spontaneous lunch date

The next day it’s he who calls you, but you still an answer on the first ring.

(You’ve dedicated a Måneskin song as his ringtone so you always know when he’s calling)

(He made your ringtone a Mika song after you dragged him to a concert)

“Charles,” you answer, confusion in your tone.

“Ma cherie!” he sounds excited and you can’t help but want to follow him anywhere he goes when he sounds like that.

“Is everything alright?” You ask it this time, because shouldn’t he be packing for a race now?

“I’m outside, we’re going to spend the day on the water.” After leaving your home last night, Charles decided that you needed a pick me up, and what better way but to spend a few hours lounging around on his yacht, soaking up the sun and enjoying each other’s company.

(No one else would be there, but this wasn’t a date.)

(Seriously Arthur, it wasn’t a date.)

You spare a glance around your room, laundry begging to be done and dishes waiting to be washed. Yeah, you could use a day away from chores.

“Let me grab a bag,” you tell him, already throwing more clothes around the room in search of your favorite bathing suit. He hums through the speaker and you put your phone down to keep searching for the bathing suit. It was your favorite red crossover one piece and you be damned if you didn’t wear it today, anything to manifest a Ferrari win.

When you finally manage to find it, in the pile of clean but not put away laundry, you pick your phone back up and tell Charles you’ll be right down.

In two minutes you’re out the door of apartment, eyes landing on Charles leaning against his car. He looks so handsome with the windswept hair and Ray-bans on, you really have to wonder why he’s spending the afternoon with you and not some model he met in a garage.

(He’d say it’s because it’s the weekend before a race and this is a tradition, spending the afternoon with you before he leaves is the only way to ward off bad luck.)

(Seriously, before the Netherlands race last year you'd been unable to make it because of a bad cold and he had to retire the car that race, so safe to say you were forced to the boat, or his apartment, or he came over before the plane every time after that.)

Maybe the question is what would he do without you?

4. Charles picks you up from a girl’s night

This time Charles doesn’t pick up on the first ring, in fact, he barely makes it to the phone in time to answer. That’s because it’s not you who is calling, but rather a friend.

You and few girl friends had decided on a girls night out for one of them going through a bad break up, but after a few pregame shots and then drinks at this club, you were pretty intoxicated.

Looking for your group after coming back from the bathroom and the bar, you had spotted Lando and Max across the room, which made you think about Charles.

(Not that he ever really left your mind.)

And when you think about Charles, you wonder where he is, so you went to your friends. Both their faces lit up when they saw you, indicating that they were also not sober. After a quick hug for both of them you turn to survey the rest of the bar, looking for your Monagasque. 

“He’s not here!” shouts Max, trying to be heard over the noise. Your shoulders drop, turning back to the two racers with a pout on your lips.

“Where is he?” you ask, trying to seem nonchalant, but drunk you can’t hide her feelings as easily as sober you.

(Many would argue that sober you can’t hide her feelings easily either, but all that matters is that Charles doesn’t find out. And since he’s too occupied in hiding his also obvious feelings, you’re both oblivious to the other’s pining.)

Lando says that Charles stayed at home, something about playing the piano and having an early night was more tempting than drinks. The real reason being that if Charles went out he would not have been able to stop thinking about you and your potential suitors, which would lead to him drinking to forget. He was not up for another heartbreak hangover.

Your eyes light up at the mention of Charles playing the piano, sitting down in the booth with them. “Oh! I bet it’s going to sound wonderful!” Both drivers roll their eyes, and to their disappointment, you’re not drunk enough to miss it. “You don’t like his music?” The accusation in your tone makes them readjust their face. It’s not that they don’t like his compositions, it’s just that when Charles explains them, it’s almost always about how you looked on a certain day and he just was so inspired he had to put something down. They’re really tired of the back and forth between you too.

You begin your speech on how talented Charles is at the piano, which then morphs into how talented he is as a driver, and then as a person. It all turns into a ramble about how proud you are of him, something they’ve all heard before.

When you’ve somehow made it to Leo and how Charles chose the perfect puppy, the man himself shows up.

“Ma cherie,” he interjects, placing a hand on your shoulder to get your attention. You turn towards him, and Max swears that there should be cartoon hearts in your eyes.

“Charles!” you yell, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. “What are you doing here?” You’re slightly too loud for being in his arms, but he doesn’t care if you yell his ear off, it’s still you.

“Max said you were ready to come home.” Your brows furrow at that, because you don’t remember ever saying that, or even Max disappearing to call Charles, but you can’t be mad at him showing up.

“One more drink?” you ask, eyes pleading with him. Charles shakes his head, he can feel how much he’s supporting your weight even while sitting and knows that any more alcohol will likely end with you tripping over yourself.

“Water,” he answers and you’ve agreed to the words coming out of his mouth because it’s Charles, and he’ll never steer you wrong.

Charles heads to the bar to grab a water, running into your group of friends there. He tells them your status and that’ll he’ll be taking you home after this drink. They all nod along, most of them predicting that the night would end like this: Charles showing up and driving you home.

When it’s finally time to leave and Charles has ushered you out of the packed club into his Pista, you remember that you came here with a completely different group. “The girls!”

“Don’t worry, ma cherie, I saw them before we left and told them I’d take you home.” The gentle smile on his face is enough to put one on yours. Where would you be without him, indeed.

+ 1. You pick Charles up from the airport

You’ve got a new car now, thanks to Charles, and since he needs to be picked up from the airport, you’ve decided to take it for a nice spin. The roads are relatively clear for the drive, and you’re there in the usual 30 minutes. That makes you early for Charles, but you take the time to work out what you’re going to say to him.

Before you get out of the car you text him your location, so that he can head right out and find you, rather than you going into the terminal to look for him. He always was better at finding you.

The last night out had not only ended with Charles taking you home, but with a revelation. You couldn’t keep living like this. Loving him so much and not telling him was suffocating. It made you feel like you were on the edge of a cliff with nothing to keep you safe, and you were tired of it. So the question was, how did you tell him.

“Charles, I’ve been in love with you for ages,” you said, but shook your head. That didn’t sound right.

“Charles, I have to tell you something really important. I think I’m in love with you.” No, you shook your head again and groaned. “I don’t think I’m in love with him, I know I am.”

“Charles, you’re the most important person in my life, I don’t know what I’d do with out you.” Okay, solid start, you might have something with that.

“Charles light of my life.” No. “That’s too cheesy.”

“God, I wish I could put into words how much you mean to me. I love you so much I don’t know what to do with myself most of the time. It’s like I need to feel you to be able to breathe properly. All I really ever need is for you to look and smile at me and I’ll know that everything will be alright. I can get through anything with you there. If you love someone else it would break my heart, but knowing that you’re happy is all I need to be okay. I’d live with the thought of you loving someone else, because if they made you as happy and good as I feel, then there’s nothing more I could ask for.” Yeah, that sounded-

“Well it’s a good thing I love you too.”

You screamed, turning around to see Charles behind you in all his glory. Black sweatshirt and baggy jeans, hair messy like he ran his hand through it multiple times.

“How long have you been there?” you asked, face turning red enough to rival Ferrari.

“At Charles, light of my life.” He shrugged, like you hadn’t just bared your soul out to him. “Though, I disagree, it’s not too cheesy.” Could you get any redder? Feels like this is as red as a human being could get before self-combusting.

He’s just standing there, with a dopey smile on his face that you want to kiss, but you can’t. Something is holding you to the spot. You force yourself to say something. “Can you say something else?”

“Like what?”

“Anything else, I feel like I’m going to explode if you don’t say something.”

“Thanks for coming to pick me up.” He adds a shrug to the end and you narrow your eyes.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“Oh, you want me to say that I love you too.”

“I don’t want you to say it if you don’t mean it.” If you were a kid you’d add a stomp to the end, as if you were throwing a temper tantrum. He furrows his brow like he’s confused and still you want to kiss him senseless.

“Well, I mean it.”

Now you’re the one confused. “What?”

“I love you too, and I don’t think I’d be okay if you loved someone else as much as I love you. Because I’m selfish and a terrible man and I want you all to myself.” He shakes his head. “I need you all to myself,” he corrects. “You’re the love of my life and if I wasn’t yours then I don’t think I could go on. But you said you do love me, so everything is so much easier now.” Each sentence is punctuated with a step closer, until he’s just a few inches from you, like he needs you to take the last step. You do, without hesitation, because you really would do anything for him.

Eyes glancing at his lips and back, you catch him doing the same thing. “I love you more than anything in this world. I’d give up racing if you asked, I do anything for you.”

Another glance at his lips. “I’d never ask that of you, Charles. But, I love you too, and I’d do anything for you.” His smile at those words would normally catch you off guard, like you’d stop breathing at it, but somehow it just makes everything easier right now. So you kiss him.

Leaning forward those last few inches to grab his shoulders and pull him down so you can kiss him with as much love as you can muster. If words can’t explain how much you love him then maybe kissing him will convey it. That you love him more than words, actions and thoughts can combine. You love him.

(And he loves you.)

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #Charles leclerc x fem!reader #Charles leclerc smau #formula 1 #formula 1 smau #formula 1 imagine #my stories #read #my writings

[kaizynofsickness]

Perv!Choso roommate Headcanons brain rot

A/N: I know that this is done a lot, but when I say perv I mean PERV

Perv!Choso who does the classic perverted things. He swears he just loves you so much he needs to see you naked whenever he gets the chance to, walking in when you're showering or getting dressed just to get a flashed image in his mind to jerk off to.

Perv!Choso who walks in your room while you're sleeping, your lips parting with every deep breath and you just look so kissable. He was originally there to snatch your panties, but you look so good like that. He starts to pump his fat cock into his fist right there in front of your sleeping figure. He won't touch you, not without permission, but he'll image all he wants.

Perv!Choso watches you play with yourself. The doors just cracked open, and he makes sure to have his eyes on that wet pussy. You looked so needy for something large inside that cunt, and that dildo didn't look that satisfying...

Perv!Choso takes your vibrator and rubs it on his tip, thinking of your pussy. You had this in between your folds, probably inside that wet core, and now it's touching his dick. He can cum from the thought alone.

Perv!Choso who watches you ride your pillows with a toy on your clit, hips rocking against it. Next thing you know your pillow is gone. Little did you know, he's in his room, rutting against the fabric where your pussy was. He's such a a fucking filthy pervert, but it's only for you. He'll never want another one as bad as he does you.

Perv!Choso he won't ever touch you without permission. But when you have on a thin shirt, no bra, and the cold air conditioner makes you nipples hard and poke through, he's fighting the urge to suck and twist them. You can ask to turn the AC down if it's cold, and he'll turn it up and say "I got confused, sorry" when he just wanted your nipples to be a sight he can rub his cock to.

Perv!Choso who watches you intensely as you talk about something. You're so pretty and your voice is dreamy—he can already imagine you moaning for him. Little do you know how hard he's rubbing his palm on his cock under the table. When you start to laugh, the breathy sighs leaving your lips, he begins to take his cock out and stroke it right then and there.

Perv!Choso gags himself with your panties all the time while beating it. Just licking the fabric where you soft pussy should be resting makes his cock leak a pool of precum.

Perv!Choso who comes back into your room to switch out your panties that he soiled, only to see you sleeping naked, curled up in a little ball with your back to him. If he lowers his head enough, he could see your pussy... Glistening. Fuck, where's the blankets? He could care less. He won't touch you, no, no, but he'll get close enough he could feel the heat of your cunt over his tip.

Perv!Choso who stays in your room to cum in his hands. While he's beating it, he's whispering naughty words in your ears to make your dream lewd. And specifically lewd dreams of him.

"Do you feel me inside that creamy cunt, baby?"

"squirt all on me, pretty girl."

"i gotchu, princess, keep riding my face."

"aw, did you just moan my name? Is the dream that good?"

Perv!Choso who hears you desperately thrusting a dildo into your cunt, crying his name after that dream. He knew you would need him after all that teasing he did to your last night, making you cum on your sheets while sleep.

Perv!Choso but, no. He won't come in and help you just yet. After all the teasing you did, he hopes you'll need him as much as he needs you before he is balls deep inside that pretty pussy.

Credits to @bunnysrph for the heart divider and @benkeibear for the MDNI banner

Finally some Choso ones to add...

˚꩜⋆.°⭑Do not copy, translate, or steal in any way, reblogs are appreciated and allowed.

#choso kamo #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #choso x reader #choso smut #kamo x reader #kamo choso #jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #jjk choso

[strawberrystepmom]

“you only like me for my body.”

the comment is tongue in cheek, delivered with a grin by the man whose lap you straddle, his starlight locks falling across your patterned bedsheets. satoru always jokes like this. half truths hidden behind the smile that nearly puts all of the lights in shinjuku to shame.

“no,” you answer back quickly, sliding your hands up his torso and gently grabbing the sides of his head. your fingers reflexively weave through his hair, nails gently massaging his scalp just the way he likes. his mouth parts slightly and you lean downward to kiss him, pressing your chest against him.

“i love this.” you gently shake his head in your grasp. he smiles softly up at you, large hands finding the small of your back to rest there. “your mind. your imagination.”

chuckling, he rubs slow circles into your skin with his thumbs. you’re in such an intimate and compromising position he could easily do what he always does, dissuade you from discussing the things you really love about him using his fingers and tongue and the bulge your ass is cradling.

maybe he doesn’t want your gentle reassurances. maybe all he wants to be good for is his body, his power, his looks. maybe he decided a long time ago he didn’t desire to seek more than pleasure and polite distance but that was before he realized his life loses color when you aren’t around.

before you began dragging one of your hands away from his head, leaving one there to massage and care for him, pressing the flat of your palm against his chest.

“i love this too. your heart.” you smile but don’t meet his eyes, staring instead at the back of your hand. “how you pretend you don’t care but really care more than anyone i’ve ever met. about the kids, the future.”

his skin warms and his chest turns a shade of pink that matches the dusting across his cheeks and nose thanks to your affirming words. you finally look up at him, half smiling.

“about me.”

how can he deny that? satoru squeezes you in his palms and you lean forward, nuzzling into his neck.

“i love you, satoru gojo.” you kiss his jaw, fingers still massaging his scalp, one hand pressed against his rapidly beating heart. “the body is just a bonus.”

before you can take a full breath, your positions have switched and he now hovers above of you. your arm is stretched, fingers still wound through his hair, and his arms still cradle your lower back. entangled, his body and yours, merely the current vessels for two souls that were meant to spend all of space and time together.

“thanks, i like you too.”

you giggle and he lowers himself to trap you against his chest, kissing your lips with a laugh of his own.

maybe the whole vulnerability thing needs some work in this lifetime but thankfully, you both have a while to figure it out.

#kendall writes #not to be a gojo fan but I am in my feelings about it #hope that’s okay 😞 #jjk manga spoilers #satoken #gojo x reader

[cupid-styles]

I don't know if the requests are still open but I'd love a check up on tattoo artist harry cause I just love them so much 🥰🥰

proud (tattoorry/plugrry)

this was originally a patreon exclusive but I've had it in my drafts for months bc I really wanted to share it here!! so here it is! a little wholesome check-in with our cutie pie couple

word count: 2.4k

content warnings: minor mentions of mental health conditions including anxiety, depression, and trauma

only angel (tattoorry/plugrry) masterlist

main masterlist | talk to me

. . .

“Harry?”

Y/N’s gnawing on the skin of her bottom lip as she wrings her hands in her lap, nervousness apparent on her facial features. Harry glances up from his phone — he’s been mindlessly scrolling through cat videos on Instagram for the past half an hour or so, Friends on in the background as he and Y/N sit snuggled up in cozy throw blankets. 

She’d been working up the courage to say something for nearly two hours now, but everytime she went to part her lips and force the words out of her throat, she clammed up.

She couldn’t help the anxiety that crept through her bones, especially because she was used to constantly being looked down on. She knows Harry would never make her feel bad for any choice she made for herself, but what if he thought she was crazy? What if her trauma was too much to deal with? These were the worries that circulated her brain for days, ever since deciding that she wanted to seek out professional mental health help a few weeks ago.

“Hm?” he puts his phone down, locking the screen, “What’s up, dovie?”

Fidgeting with the skin surrounding her chipped nail polish, she swallows tightly. His eyes are analyzing her body language and she suddenly feels small and foolish beneath his gaze, solely because of the trauma from her parents.

They always treated her like she was less than, to the point where she wholeheartedly, truly believed it. In the few months that Y/N’s been on her own and officially dating Harry, he’s been helping her in ways she could have never imagined, but she didn’t want all of her issues to fall on him. It’s the main reason why she decided to find a therapist. 

“I’ve been thinking,” she rasps out, her voice cracking. “I think I’m going to start seeing a counselor. To deal with my, um… parents.”

Harry’s posture straightens and his eyebrows furrow, a concerned wrinkle forming between them. (It always showed up when Y/N mentioned anything relating to her family.) 

“What do you mean?” 

Rolling her lips into her mouth, she prepares the speech she’s been practicing in her head for days. 

“I just know I have a lot of trauma from them and I don’t want you to feel responsible for helping me through it all the time,” she says, reciting the explanation word-for-word, “It’s important for me to figure this out on my own and I want it to come from a mental health professional.”

Harry's look of worry almost instantly morphs into a gentle smile. He reaches out to intertwine their fingers together and gives her hand a small squeeze, much to Y/N’s relief. She was terrified he’d take it the wrong way, but the proud expression on his face says different. 

“That’s incredible, dovie. I’m so proud of you.” 

He leans forward to press a kiss to her forehead, the showcase of love instantly slowing her heartbeat. 

“You’re not mad?” she asks, peering up at him through thick eyelashes. 

“Of course not,” he shakes his head. “I could never be mad at you for wanting to work on yourself. I think it’ll be really helpful for you. Have you found someone yet?”

“No. I wanted to run it past you before looking.”

His heart cracks a bit but he tries not to let it show on his face. “You never have to do that, okay? You’re your own person, baby, and I have no right to tell you what to do with your life. Alright?”

It’s a strange way to look at life after having every decision of her life planned out for her since birth. She’s still adjusting — that much is obvious, but it isn’t her fault, and Harry works regularly to help her realize that in small doses. 

“Would you maybe help me find a person?” Y/N peeps out, playing with his fingers in her lap. Her eyes are set on their hands, still too nervous to look at him face-to-face. Harry, though he has no experience looking for therapists himself, still nods enthusiastically, willing to help her take whatever steps she needs. 

“Why don’t you grab your laptop?” he suggests. She reaches forward to pull it off the coffee table before Harry wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her into his side. She makes a soft ah!, surprised by his sudden movements, which of course results in a small, snarky smile on his end. 

Shuffling so the laptop is in his lap now, he opens it, has her put her password in, and searches up “therapists near me.” His eyes float to the nervous girl beside him, who’s taken up gnawing on her fingernails as he clicks on the first result. It’s a directory of mental health professionals close to them where you can filter by specialities, insurance, and other preferences. 

“Okay, dovie,” he croons gently, “What are you looking for in particular? Someone to help with stress?” 

She shrugs. “Um, maybe something a bit more. Maybe… anxiety? A-and family stuff?”

“That’s a good starting point,” he encourages, clicking on the appropriate filters. Immediately, a number of therapists that originally showed up disappear, but it still leaves them with a decent amount to scroll through. “Anything else? Do you have a preference on gender or how far they are from us?”

“I think I want a woman,” she says before glancing up at him with worried eyes, “Is that okay?”

“Of course it is.”

He clicks the “female” preference, resulting in around 15 options for them to look at. She continues biting her nail as Harry scrolls down. He periodically hovers over someone, asking her if she’d like to look at them more. She’ll either nod or shake her head, but in the event of the former, he’ll open their profile in a separate tab. 

Eventually, they narrow it down to three but one isn’t actively taking new clients, so it’s between Leanna, who looks to be around Harry’s mom’s age and is located 20 minutes from Y/N’s apartment, and Madeline, a younger woman with experience in a myriad of mental health concerns. 

Quietly, Y/N alternates between the two tabs, contemplating and comparing their experiences. He can tell that she’s having difficulty picking, but he doesn’t want to say anything to sway her in one direction over the other — he wants this to fully be her choice. 

“I think I like Madeline.” she says, looking up at her boyfriend. Her eyes are slightly rounded, lips parted as if she’s waiting for approval from Harry. 

“Sounds like a good choice, dove. How’d you settle on her?”

Y/N shrugs her shoulders, scrolling down on her profile page. “Well, she has experience with anxiety, depression, and trauma… and I’ve been reading a bit online, and I think I do have some trauma from my parents, so…”

Harry nods, smoothing her hair comfortingly. 

“And I like that she seems like she’s closer in age to us… it might make me feel more comfortable, like I’m talking to a friend,” she explains. He hums in agreement. “She also has a cat at her office, which I really like, too.”

He chuckles and leans over to nose at her hair, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. 

“I think those are all great reasons,” he murmurs.

He won’t admit it tonight because he doesn’t want her to get too nervous, especially if she ultimately decides she’s too scared to go, but he’s infinitely proud of her right now. He’s contemplated bringing up therapy to her for the past few months, particularly right after he helped her move out of her parents’ home.

The fact that she came to that decision herself is enough for him to feel over the moon, his chest swelling with pride. Even if she backs out at the last minute, at the very least, he knows she’s trying her best, and that’s all he could ever ask of her. 

“Why don’t you email her and send your information?” Harry suggests lightly, breaking Y/N out of her own trance of thinking. With a swallow, she nods, clicking on the little mail symbol next to Madeline’s name. 

He watches as she composes an email, her fingers stuttering over the keys every few minutes. He can tell that she’s over-thinking on what to say, but she eventually settles on a short, to-the-point message: Hi Madeline, my name is Y/N and I was interested in seeing you for therapy. Are you taking on new clients at the moment?

“Great,” Harry blurts out once she presses ‘send’. She looks up at him. “You did great.” he amends, a light blush flowering over his cheeks. 

All she does is smile and bury herself into his chest. 

. . .

“Here, why don’t you wear this to your appointment?”

Y/N thinks that Harry may be even more nervous for her first therapy session than she is. 

Although she’s busying around her apartment, getting her things together in preparation for her 11 am appointment, Harry’s movements are just as jerky and anxious. She’s currently looking for her favorite comfy sweatshirt when he suddenly peels off the fuzzy cardigan he’s wearing, handing it to her. It’s the one he bought on sale at Urban Outfitters a few weeks back when they had some time off from work and school. They’d been traipsing through the shops nearby with no intention of actually buying something, but Harry had said that he liked how it felt like a teddy bear. 

“Oh, but you’re already wearing that,” Y/N says with a pout, shaking her head. “It’s okay, I’ll find something else—”

“No, I want you to wear it,” he insists. “Maybe it’ll help make you feel more comfortable? Having something of mine?”

She blinks, slowly reaching out to accept it from his grasp. “What will you wear though?”

“I think I’ve left a few sweatshirts here,” he says, popping up from his seat on the edge of her bed. “Don’t you have that little drawer with all my stuff?”

She nods. It hadn’t really been an intentional thing, but when she told Lucy about it, she explained to her that it was kind of a big deal. Apparently, having a drawer at your significant other’s apartment meant that you were moving in the direction of living together, but Y/N didn’t see it that way. It was more for the sake of convenience, especially if Harry came over after work and decided to stay over instead of heading back to his place.

She walks over to her dresser and yanks open the top drawer. It’s filled to the brim with tee-shirts, sweatshirts, and two pairs of sweatpants, all of which belong to Harry. She glances over at him, embarrassed, and he laughs. 

“Geez, dovie, think you’re a bit obsessed with me,” he teases, grabbing one of the hoodies. She rolls her eyes. 

“You’re the one that leaves this stuff here all the time!” 

“Yeah, but it looks like you’re building some kind of shrine—”

“Oh, shush!” she says, pulling his cardigan on. She’ll admit, the fabric is heavenly, and the fact that it smells like Harry is a massive added bonus. “Are you still fine to drive me?”

He nods quickly once he has his sweatshirt on, grabbing his car keys. “Ready when you are, baby.”

He makes her take a granola bar and a water bottle on her way out, both of them bidding Lucy a goodbye when they exit the apartment. Y/N has a bad habit of not wanting to eat when she’s nervous, but Harry can guarantee that her stomach will start rumbling as soon as she’s done with today’s session. 

They climb into the familiarity of Harry’s car, Y/N taking her usual seat on the passenger’s side. She hasn’t driven much since cutting off communication with her parents. Obviously, she left the car they bought her, and she doesn’t have enough money in her savings to buy another one, even if it’s used or a lease.

Since she didn’t get the job at the bookstore, she’s been looking for other part-time opportunities on campus but nothing’s come up yet. Harry offered to get her some work at the shop, but she felt too weird about having her boyfriend pay her for silly tasks like cleaning up and scheduling appointments. 

Madeline’s office isn’t too far away, and Harry took the morning off to take her. He said — quote — “I’m clearing my schedule, dovie — no appointments, meetings, and certainly no drug deals!”. (That had made Y/N snort over the Chinese food they shared for dinner a few nights ago.) 

The drive is mainly quiet, save for Harry’s quiet music playing in the background. She’s nervous and fidgety in her seat so he reaches over to intertwine their fingers together, giving her hand a small squeeze in her lap. It makes her feel a little bit better, but she wishes Harry could go to her appointment with her. 

When they arrive, Harry pulls into a parking space just outside the door. They have 10 minutes before her session officially starts, but Madeline had asked if she could get there a bit early to fill out some paperwork. 

“Feel okay?” Harry asks, pushing his sunglasses up to his hair. She nods, even though her heart is hammering in her ribs. “You’re gonna do great, dovie. I’ll be here as soon as you’re done.”

“Okay,” she breathes, watching as the clock ticks one minute closer to 11. She swallows harshly and unbuckles her seatbelt, grabbing her bag from the floor of Harry’s car. “I'll be done by 11:45, right?”

“11:45, baby. I’ll be right here.”

“Okay. Alright.” 

He leans over to smear a quick kiss to her cheek and she smiles gently, though it doesn’t completely reach her eyes. She gets out of the car and straightens her posture, pulling Harry's cardigan tighter over her form, and winds around the front to walk in the direction of the front door. 

It’s only then that Harry rolls down his window, despite the wet, dewy chill of the morning. 

“Wait, Y/N!”

She turns around, an expression of confusion painting her features. 

“I’m so proud of you!” he exclaims. He can see her blush from his spot in the car, a wide, toothy grin appearing on her face. “I’m so proud of you, and I love you so much.”

She mouths it back — I love you too — this time with a smile that lights up her entire face. She waves her fingers with one more goodbye before taking a deep breath and walking into the office building. 

Harry can’t stop grinning to himself.

#bestie asks #writing #tattoo artist h #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles blurb #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles one direction #one direction #harry styles fic rec #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfic rec #fine line #harry's house #hs4 #harry's house album

[thegnomelord]

me very patiently waiting for that mothussy :3

oh and here’s another wittle thing i thought…i tend to hc price as a bear hybrid or other so i think he would go into hibernations,, since hes still on duty he wouldnt go into a long-term one like other bears, but simply sleep a LOT of the day…i would wanna cuddle big bear price so bad awaawaewfgwh 🥺 hes really hairy but instead of it being coarse hair, its more fluffy cause its the winter!! so his facial hair puffs up a bit…and his chest hair…and the happy trail…you get the idea :3 idk i just like bear price i want him to pound me into the mattress and suck my cock until it falls off hug me!!

-❀

Give me like a couple more days lol, I got ghost and soap more or less done in a rough draft format, just need to write out price and gaz then a quick rewrite to clean up the draft. Cause rn all mini drafts are about 1k and very rough so when I clean it up they're probs gonna be bumped up to like 2k? Just knowing me and how my drafts end up doubling in size lol.

Also duuude you are a treasure trove of ideas lol. I want bear price now and now I'm horny so here's a bunch of bear price

Help a Bear Out

CW:NSFW, MDNI, daddy kink, dom/sub, oral, somno, edging, foodplay, cockwarming. Bear Price x Top Male reader Ao3

Imagine Bear Price who is by no means a small man any time of the year, bear genetics + having to be physically fit to take down terrorists leads to him having a very strong and imposing build befitting a Kodiak bear. The fur only adds to the striking image, making him look larger and his arms appear thicker, letting him scare many young boars from trying to tussle with him lest he crack their skulls.

But he turns massive in winter.

He can't help it; There's no escaping the iron clad control nature has over his body as his dark fur thickens and gains a fluffy golden color. No evading the instinct telling him to eat and rest and grow fat for winter until his hard earned muscles disappear beneath the cloak of fat. No ignoring sweet lull of sleep's song when he's yawning every five minutes and the words on the report swim in his blurry eyes.

Imagine Bear Price who, in his younger days, used to be self conscious about the changes his body went through. Growing up surrounded by humans was tough, dread would start building in his heart the moment the first leaf from the trees would fall. He's lost count how many times the kids would laugh at him when he'd show up to school after winter break with a chubby face and barely able to run a lap with how tired he was.

As he grew and started being curious about sex, it only got worse. He'd snatch the porn mags his sisters would buy behind their parents back, spending hours looking in the mirror and comparing his pudgy belly and fat thighs to the chiseled abs and lean muscles of the models. He'd spend hours exercising and trying to loose the weight he'd gain, but it would be all for naught.

And it didn't stop when he graduated and went into the military. His superiors may have tolerated the extra sleep and rations Price needed because he was a monster on the field, but they by no means were happy about it. He'd end up with thrice the amount of work and run ragged in training until he returned to his pre-winter weight.

Imagine Bear Price who doesn't give a shit about how he looks like now. Why would he, when he sees how you look at him? How you touch him? How you worship him?

Your hands wind around his waist and the groan you let out when you realize the space between your fingertips has gotten bigger is hungry. Your face burrows into his chest, his soft fluffy fur tickling your face as you nuzzle his pecks. The way his pudgy belly and love handles jiggle under your wandering hands makes you wish you had more arms so you could feel every part of him.

A content growl rumbles from the bottom of his chest, eyelids open just enough to watch you. "My boy's forgotten his manners." He chuckles, but there's no way to hide the wagging of his little bear tail. The reverent way you touch him makes him feel like a king.

"Sorry sir." There's absolutely no shame in your voice or your actions, not when your mind is held captive by the soft fluffy fur and the warmth of his skin. Without thinking you slide your hands up to grope his chest and you groan — the squishy fat covering his muscles and makes his pecs so large they don't fit in your hands anymore, fat plumping up between your fingers and his flesh jiggling as you press his pecs against your head and motorboat him.

The surprised laugh you earn is like ambrosia to sweeten the heaven you're drowning in.

Imagine Bear Price who gets so sleepy as the nights get longer and colder. While he still gets the work done, and for the most part doesn't mind the 'old man' jokes his boys make, it's obvious how irritated he gets when he's forced to stay awake longer than he needs to; each extra second spent explaining to a muppet how to do his job makes his eyes darker and voice rougher until he's passively growling like a construction engine.

Luckily you're there to calm down the beast.

Groping his ass or scratching the base of his tail to distract him so you can kiss along his jaw and rub your cheek against his beard. "You're doing it again sir." You mutter, voice smooth and low enough to soothe his prickled mind. Kissing him sweet and slow so you can tug his lazy body back into his room, into his den, where you can give him what his mind and body craves the most — sweet sweet sleep. . . and you.

Imagine Bear Price who's chest rumbles with a purr without stopping the second you settle into his den, his clawed fingers sliding over and groping your naked skin with just as much love and adoration as you show him.

Wrapped in so many layers of blankets and furs, engulfed by his bulk and his own fur, you are so so warm that neither one of you need clothes. Price's favorite position is to hug you like a Teddy bear. Despite the irony, it lets him wrap his body around you so you're safe and protected, practically suffocating in his fur. Not that you mind, especially when Price can nuzzle his nose into your hair or skin, to breathe in your scent to his heart's content and purr low praises into your ear: "Good boy,"

And, if you're especially good, he lets you use his ass as a pillow. He'll growl and grumble about not being able to scent you or hold you, but he'll soon be sleeping peacefully with you slumbering on his large ass.

Imagine Bear Price who, between the long stretches of sleep, get's horny. It's a natural reaction from sleeping next to his naked mate, wanting to feel you and hear your moans, but he doesn't have the energy to actually fuck. His lethargy turns the feeling of languid arousal into Hell.

Both of you try to initiate a couple of times; fumbling beneath the sheets, wandering hands roaming and groping as far as they can reach, his teeth nibbling on your neck and your hungry lips laying hickeys on his thick neck. Not wanting to undo the tangle of limbs you two end up grinding against each other, breathing the same air between kisses as sweet pleasure burns in your belies.

Then you stop just long enough to grab the lube, and Price's mind, still half way in lala land, only needs a couple of seconds of inaction to pull him back into deep sleep. By the time you return to him he's already snoring, limbs reaching out to grip you tightly and pull you close, but all thoughts of sex are forgotten.

And Price is so, so, angry with himself when he wakes up and realizes he left you high and dry again, shame eating away at his stomach because what kind of bear leaves his mate unsatisfied? The unworthy kind.

Imagine Bear Price who's mind is blown when you suggest cockwarming. Hibernation is about sleeping and relaxing, not strenuous sex, so the thought of being able to feel you while still fulfilling his body's need to rest? Oh it gets him hard.

It takes a while to figure out the perfect position, Price is too big and heavy to lay on top of you without crushing you, and his fingers earn to grip and hold you close so spooning him viable either.

Finally you end up with him laying on his back, legs spread with you laying on top of him and oh, it's perfect. You can feel him purr as you slide inside his blistering hot hole, his strong arms wrapping around you and claws scrapping along your spine. "That's my boy, perfect f' daddy." He mumbles through the fog of sleep, throwing one heavy leg over yours to keep you close.

You can't help the shudder that races down your spine, his musky earthy scent curling in your nose and making your cock throb inside him. You only stretching him long enough to be able to take you without tearing something, and Price relishes the slight sting of pain nibbling on his nerves when your cock hardens.

You don't try to fuck him, by the time you're fully settled inside him he's already snoozing. A slow roll of your hips and the resulting tightening of his hole is enough to sate your lust when it arises, enough to keep you half hard and stretching him out. His pecs make such a good pillow, thick fluffy fur and chest hair tickling your skin, the slow and calm beating of his heart lulling you to sleep before you know it.

Imagine Bear Price who gets an insatiable sweet tooth. There’s not a single secret stash in his room that doesn’t have his favorite bottle of honey in it. Hell, there’s more honey hidden in his room than cigars.

And his lazy mind decides to combine his hunger with honey with his hunger for you.

"Hold still for daddy, baby boy." Price mumbles against your abdomen, big hand gripping your hip to keep you still so not a drop of the honey he drizzles on your cock goes to waste. "Good." He purrs, wide tongue lolling out of his mouth to lap at your tip, claws massaging the skin beneath them.

He can spend hours laying between your legs, lazily lavishing your cock with attention while satisfying his craving for sweets. Whine and moan as much as you want, uselessly buck your hips as best you can against his unfair strength, nothing will make him rush — with his energy drained he'll spend meticulous minutes following every vein on your cock with his tongue before he even thinks of gently suckling on your tip. "Relax my boy, just enjoy this." He mutters, lips pressed against the sticky flesh of your shaft.

And when he does take you into his mouth, it's just as slow. His mouth hangs open so you can see your tip resting on his tongue before he laps at your slit, drool and honey running down his chin and sticking the strands of his beard together. When all the honey is in his stomach he just drizzles more, nibbling on your thighs or stomach to keep his mouth and mind occupied with you before starting the torturous process all over again.

The slow torturous pleasure is easy to endure just so you can see his eyes light up when you start leaking precum.

Imagine Bear Price absolutely loves loves loves the salty tang your cum adds to the sweet honey, the delicate combination of flavor dancing on tongue and only fueling his gluttonous mind to demand more.

The distinct taste is the only way to cut through the fog of lazy pleasure in his mind, turning him greedy. Price mumbles and growls incoherent words around your cock as he swallows you down to the root, swallowing around you and holding you down when you try to buck up. "My boy tastes so good." He mumbles as he rises up, nuzzling his cheek against your weeping tip, looking up at you with hungry blue eyes. "Just for daddy, yeah?"

"Ye-yes sir." You whimper through your clenched teeth, your head lolling back against the pillows when he swallows you whole again, your tip bumping against the back of his throat. "Just fo- fuck, fuck,- just for you." You don't know how he doesn't choke on you but you don't have the mental faculties to even think about that when your brains are leaking through your cock.

Price smiles around your cock, the purr rattling his chest and making his throat vibrate around you. "Smart boy," He praises after he pulls off, precum and honey swirling on his tongue as he takes the moment to savor the taste. He knows how close you are, he can feel the cum churning your balls when he rolls them in his rough palm. "You can give daddy a bit more, can't you?"

You honestly don't know how long you will last.

Imagine Bear Price who can get so insatiable he growls like a tractor when you try to weakly push him off your cock, so aroused that you think even the slightest gust of wind will make you pop.

Price bites your thigh enough to hurt and only his hand squeezing down on the base of your cock keeps you from cumming. "And where do you think you're going boy?" He demands, claws digging into your skin to pull your hips closer, little kitten licks of his tongue driving you to the brink of madness.

"S-Sir!" You moan before you can stop yourself, your hips twitching uselessly against his hands, thighs shaking. "'m sorry, I'm fuck, I'm so close." You whimper, fat tears rolling down your cheeks. Every nerve in your system is on fire, pleasure so strong it's turned to pain along your body.

Price huffs, but his tight hold lessens. "It's alright sweet boy," He hums, placing a sweet kiss on your cock head. "I know how you can make it up to daddy."

Imagine Bear Price who's only placated when you slide your cock back inside him. Your muscles ache from the strength it takes you to hoist his heavy legs over your shoulders and keep them there, but your rewarded with the tightening of his sweet hole, a pleased rumble leaving his throat.

“G-good boy-.” He growls, long claws scratching down your back as you pound into him. Your thrusts are slow but deep, making his toes curl every time you bottom out, tip scraping his prostate and making his cock spurt a dollop of precum with every thrust. “Fucking daddy so deep. I taught you well, yeah?”

"Yes, yes, yes!" You agree to everything he says without hearing any of his words, your body moving automatically to bully your dick into him. Every thrust is heaven and every second spent pulling out from his tight heat is hell, the sensitive veins of your cock scraping against his walls.

He moans when you manage to clip his prostate with your thrusts, one clawed hand sliding down to grip your hip hard enough to bruise. "Harder boy," He demands, rolling his hips to meet you half way, other hand raising up to scruff you. "You can go har-hm!- harder. . . don't you wan- fuck, want to make daddy feel good?"

Clenching your eyes shut you slam into him as hard as you can, feeling the fat widening his frame jiggle with every hard thrust. Without thinking Price pulls your head down to smother you in his pecs, soft fluffy fur tickling your face as the ample flesh suffocates you. The sweet scent of honey mixed with his musk erases any vestiges of sentient thought in your head, leaving your animal brain to pick up the pieces — Pin him down harder and mate him, rut into him until he's roaring with his full chest, his hard cock slapping against your stomach.

Price reacts to the change in your behavior by pressing your face even harder against his chest, his walls clenching around your cock like a vice so you have to try harder to push into him. Price’s lips brush against your ear, voice low and rumbly. “My boy, come in daddy.” He urges you on, both legs now tightly wound around your waist so you can only hump your aching cock into him. “Co-mh!- cum, cum in me son, you want to be good for daddy right?”

That's all it takes to drive you over the edge, mind going black like a piece of paper as your orgasm rocks through you with the intensity of lighting. The sensation of your hot cum spilling into his hole triggers his own orgasm and he cums with a thunderous roar, sticky seed shooting across your abdomen.

You collapse on top of him, his legs keeping your softening cock inside him, not that you have even a single functioning muscle to try to pull out. His big hand cradles your skull, honey flavored lips placing soothing kisses on your temple. "That's my boy." Price murmurs, his chest rumbling with a soft purr. "Did so well for me." He yawns, eyelids fluttering as that fog of lethargy settles over both of you. "Now rest," The order is spoken in the softest voice he's ever used, and it works like a horse tranquilizer on you.

As you drift off to sleep, you feel his hole clench around your soft cock, the cum inside him squelching as his body unconsciously tries to persuade yours into filling him up just a bit more.

It's gonna be a long winter.

#gnome correspondence #cod mw2 #x reader #male reader #top male reader #captain john price #captain price x male reader #captain john price x reader #captain john price x male reader #gay #bear price #❀anon #centerpieces of the hoard #call of duty mw3 #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty x male reader #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty x reader #cod mlm #mlm smut #mlm #call of duty #cod modern warfare #bottom cod x male reader #cod x reader #price x male reader #x male reader #x top male reader

[lev1hei1chou]

Physics Class

Dad!Gojo x reader Genre: Fluff Synopsis: Gojo teaches physics to his child, and it doesn't go the way they want it to. Masterlist

It was a typical evening in the Gojo household, or so it seemed. Satoru Gojo was seated at the dining table with his teenage child and a pile of physics textbooks. His usual demeanor was replaced with a look of sheer desperation as he attempted to explain the intricacies of quantum mechanics.

"Okay, so imagine this," Gojo began, summoning his Infinity to illustrate his point. "You have a particle, and it can be in multiple places at once..."

Haru, stared blankly at his father, eyes glazed over with confusion. "But Dad, I still don't get it. How can something be in two places at the same time?"

Gojo rubbed his temples, mentally cursing the day he decided to take on the role of tutor. "Well, you see, it's like... umm... Hollow Purple!" With a flourish of his hand, he conjured the swirling vortex of energy, hoping it would somehow make the concept clearer.

Haru's expression didn't change. "It just looks like purple fog to me, Dad."

Gojo sighed dramatically. "This is harder than fighting curses," he muttered under his breath.

Suddenly, a light bulb seemed to go off in Gojo's head. "I know! Let's try a practical demonstration." Within seconds, he summoned a small rubber ball and a series of miniature black holes using his powers.

Haru's eyes widened in alarm. "Dad, are you sure this is safe?"

But before he could protest further, Gojo released the ball into the gravitational field of the black holes. Chaos ensued as the ball disappeared and reappeared in seemingly random locations.

"Dad, I think you just broke the laws of physics," Haru exclaimed, a mix of awe and terror in his voice.

Gojo chuckled nervously. "Well, umm... let's just say it's a... creative interpretation."

Despite the chaotic lesson, Haru couldn't help but smile at their father's antics. "Thanks, Dad. I still don't understand quantum mechanics, but at least I had fun trying."

Gojo grinned proudly, tousling his hair affectionately. "That's my kid. Now, let's tackle the next chapter: Kinetic Energy!"

As Gojo delved deeper into the world of teaching normal subjects, he realized that traditional methods simply weren't cutting it. So, he decided to incorporate his sorcery skills into the curriculum, much to the dismay of his teenager.

Satoru decided to demonstrate the concept of kinetic energy using his Infinity. He summoned a couple of marbles and set them rolling on the table, intending to show how their speed affected their energy.

"See, Haru, the faster the marble moves, the more energy it has," Gojo explained, trying to sound as convincing as possible.

His son nodded along, trying to follow his father's logic. But when Gojo decided to ramp up the demonstration by using his powers to increase the speed of the marbles to near-supersonic levels, chaos ensued.

The marbles careened off the table, ricocheting around the room like tiny bullets. Furniture was overturned, vases shattered, and Gojo found himself ducking for cover behind the sofa.

"Dad, I think we should stick to the textbook," Haru yelled over the chaos, dodging a marble that whizzed past his head.

Gojo emerged from his hiding spot, looking sheepish. "Right, maybe that was a bit much."

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the Gojo household. The door swung open, and you walked in. You were greeted not by the usual calm ambiance of home, but by a scene of utter chaos.

"Baby, what on earth happened here?" you exclaimed, taking in the overturned furniture, cracked decorations and the faint scent of burnt rubber lingering in the air.

Your husband looked up from his haphazard pile of textbooks, relief washing over his exhausted features at the sight of his wife. "Oh, thank goodness you're here. We've had a bit of a... situation."

Your son sat at the table with tears glistening in his eyes, surrounded by scattered papers and half-hearted attempts at calculations. He looked up at his mother with a mixture of frustration and defeat.

"Mom, I just don't understand any of this. We tried so much and nothing worked," he confessed, his voice trembling with emotion.

Your heart broke at the sight of your son's distress. You crossed the room in a few quick strides, wrapping him in a comforting hug. "It's okay, sweetheart. We'll figure this out together."

Turning to Gojo, you found her husband in a state of near-panic, his usual smirk replaced by a look of sheer desperation. "Love, what's going on? Why is everything in shambles?"

Gojo ran a hand through his disheveled hair, his frustration palpable. "I've been trying to help Haru study for his physics exam, but nothing seems to be sinking in. I've tried every trick in the book, and then some my personal tricks. It didn't do much though."

You couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of your usually unflappable husband on the brink of a meltdown. "Well, why don't we take a break, and then try some different approach?."

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #gojo #satoru gojo #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #jjk gojo x reader #jjk satoru #gojo fluff #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo fluff #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru fanfic #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader

[solarmorrigan]

54 + 12 for steddie!

Okay, I know the prompt list says I'm supposed to describe how I'd use the tropes in the same story, but I got.... carried away. I just really love outsider POV

Fanfiction Trope Mashup prompts: 54. Secret relationship + 12. Roommate AU

cw: allusions to period-typical homophobia

-

Gladys hadn’t been sure what to make of her new neighbors at first.

She didn’t like the idea of them, to be certain: two young men living in the apartment across the way, who would probably come and go at all hours, noisy and inconsiderate as anything – especially the long-haired one she’d spotted carrying a guitar case.

A month in, however, her initial assessment doesn’t seem to have proven true; she does see them come and go at all hours, but they aren’t noisy about it, and she hasn’t heard any kind of raucous guitar playing. They seem to keep to themselves, and that suits Gladys just fine.

And then grocery day comes, and Gladys is trying to jog from the front door to the elevator before it closes, both arms loaded with bags. She spots her long-haired neighbor already in the elevator, and he spots her, and he holds the door for her before she can even call and ask him to.

He then offers to help with the bags, and Gladys unloads both of the heavy paper sacks on him with a relieved sigh; she tries to keep in shape, but she doesn’t have the strength she did when she was younger, and her joints sometimes ache like mad.

“I’m Eddie, by the way,” the man says into the silence of the elevator as they ride up to the fourth floor. “I don’t think we really introduced ourselves when we moved in, but I live across the hall from you.”

“I recognize you,” Gladys says. Then adds, “Gladys Gaines.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you officially, Miss Gladys,” Eddie says with a grin. “I’d offer to shake, but my hands are otherwise occupied.”

He shifts the grocery bags demonstratively, pretends for a moment that they’re weighing him down, though he’d been having no trouble with them until then, and Gladys finds herself smiling. “Never mind that,” she says. “And it’s nice to meet you, too.”

Eddie helps her put the groceries away, and she finds him to be charming, in an animated sort of way, bursting with energy and humor.

The sink gives him pause, though, after he ducks beneath it to put away a bottle of dish detergent as directed. He watches it drip for several consecutive seconds before asking, “Is the faucet giving you trouble?”

“It’s been driving me up the wall for weeks,” Gladys huffs as she stashes a loaf of bread in the breadbox. “But of course maintenance is taking their sweet time to get to it.”

“Huh. Y’know, Steve—my, uh, roommate—he’s pretty good at home repair stuff like this. I could get him to come take a look at it, if you want,” Eddie offers.

“If he can get that awful drip to stop, I’ll be in your debt,” Gladys says.

Eddie wiggles his eyebrows at her. “Madam, that’s a dangerous thing to declare.”

“Oh, hush.” Gladys slaps at him with a dish towel, and the boy pretends to be mortally wounded.

Laughing, Gladys finds that she quite likes Eddie.

She likes Steve, too, when he shows up at her door the next afternoon with a bag of tools and a little wave ‘hello.’

“Eddie said your faucet was leaking?” he offers. “Oh– I’m Steve. From across the way.”

“I recognize you,” Gladys says, and she shows him to the kitchen.

Steve is a solid, steady presence that Gladys can imagine compliments Eddie’s high energy well; he’s boyish and sweet, but there’s something sharper underneath that reminds Gladys of her own Avery’s cutting wit.

Gladys finds out from Steve that he and Eddie are from a tiny, rural town; they’re new to city life, but they’re enjoying it even in their adjustment period. Eddie works full time while Steve works part-time and attends classes – he’s hoping to become a guidance counselor.

“That’s an unusual arrangement for roommates,” Gladys comments. “Eddie doesn’t mind taking on most of the bills?”

It’s a bit of a prying question—rude, some might say, but Gladys doesn’t see the point in getting old if you’re not allowed to be blunt—but Steve only ducks his head and smiles.

“No, Eddie’s– he’s a great guy. Helping me out like this,” he says before turning back to the sink. “Here, try it now.”

Gladys turns the faucet on, then turns it back off, watching as the flow of water comes to a complete stop, not a drip to be seen.

“Dear, you’re a miracle worker,” Gladys declares.

“It was nothing,” Steve says.

He turns away to pack up his tools, but not quite quickly enough to hide the smile on his face – pleased but a little bashful, like he isn’t used to being complimented like this. It’s a nice smile, Gladys thinks, and both Steve and Eddie are nice boys. She decides that yes, she really does like them.

Offering to pay Steve for his services seems a little tawdry, so Gladys invites the boys over for dinner, instead. They end up staying well into the evening, talking and laughing with her. Steve eats up all the gossip about the other building tenants that Gladys can dish out, and Eddie eggs them on.

When they say that they’ll have to have her over for dinner next, Gladys braces herself for the worst: the apartment of two busy young bachelors, Lord have mercy.

She’s pleasantly surprised to find, then, that it isn’t so bad at all. It’s a bit cluttered—particularly the desk shoved into the corner covered in graph paper and what appear to be tiny plastic figurines—but it’s quite clean.

After she’s offered to help with dinner and been politely denied, Gladys spends time looking at the photos they have pinned up on the wall. There are over a dozen, a collage of smiles and laugher featuring the same cast of teenagers in varying stages of growth, often posing with Steve or Eddie. There are quite a few of just Steve and Eddie together mixed in, and Gladys is warmed to see two such good friends.

Steve does most of the cooking that evening, but Eddie is a capable sous chef, anticipating Steve’s every request before he can even voice what he needs.

“Hey, can you hand me the, uh–” Steve snaps his fingers, searching for the word, and Eddie opens a drawer and presses a slotted spoon into Steve’s hand. “Yeah, that.”

Eddie grins and goes back to cutting vegetables.

Dinner is nice.

It goes on like this – trading favors here and there, dinners at one apartment or the other, evenings spent talking and laughing. Gladys finds that Eddie is an excellent opponent when playing cards, and Steve shares her fondness for Murder She Wrote.

Gladys and Avery never did get around to having children. At first, they hadn’t had the money, then they hadn’t had the time, and eventually – well, it had been too late. She’s never really regretted it—her maternal instinct isn’t a strong one—but she does find herself starting to think of these boys as hers. She even starts in on knitting some sweaters; the weather it’s getting cold, after all, and it’s the sort of thing you do when you want the people you care about to be protected from it.

It does strike Gladys as a little odd that she only ever sees them with each other; they’re both attractive young men, after all, and she can’t imagine why they don’t seem to go on dates. She’s never seen two friends as content in each other’s company as they are, but she supposes that’s really all that matters – that they’re content.

Things become clearer, however, one sleepless night months after the boys move in.

Insomnia isn’t new to Gladys; she’s dealt with it since she was young, and it seems like age has only increased the frequency of those nights she lies awake, staring at her bedroom ceiling.

She’s found her own ways of coping, over the years; she’ll fill the time with a good book or do some word puzzles or get some knitting in. If she’s feeling particularly restless, she might clean the apartment or even bake something.

She’s just considering whether or not the boys would appreciate some cinnamon rolls come morning (and whether or not it would top that loaf of cinnamon raisin bread Steve had made last week, not that Gladys is keeping track) when she hears the very subject of her thoughts come giggling down the hall.

The boys aren’t being loud, precisely, but they aren’t quiet, either, and there are fewer sounds in the night to swallow up their noise.

They sound happy – they must have had a late night out, coming home a little goofy and tipsy, talking and laughing and then shushing each other as they come to a halt, sounding close enough that they must be outside their own door, just across and to the left of Gladys’.

There’s a moment of indecision, and then Gladys is rising from her chair and crossing to the door. She feels a little silly, but the sight of a friendly face on a sleepless night can sometimes do wonders to soothe her nerves.

She’ll just pop out and say hello, a fellow after-midnighter, and then let them go.

She’s barely opened her door, however, just catching a glimpse of the boys, when something– unexpected happens.

Eddie is fumbling with his keys as Steve leans further and further into his space, and Gladys wonders if he’s drunker than he sounds, but then–

“Hey,” Steve murmurs, waiting for Eddie to look up, and it’s all the warning Eddie gets before Steve is kissing him full on the mouth.

Eddie drops his keys entirely, but it isn’t in shock so much as it is his apparent eagerness to get his hands on Steve, cupping his cheek in one and grabbing his hip with the other, pulling him closer.

This isn’t drunken fumbling – it isn’t even something new, Gladys realizes. The kiss is slow and gentle and lingering, the love in it so evident that for a moment an ache of longing, of missing Avery, rises up in Gladys’ chest.

Then, though he’d been the one to encourage the kiss, Eddie is the one to break it, and when he speaks, he’s properly quiet this time. Gladys can just barely hear him.

“Someone’s gonna see, baby.”

“Let ‘em,” Steve says, just as soft.

“Steve…”

Steve sighs, pressing his forehead to Eddie’s. “I wish I could show you off. Tell everyone how much I love you.”

Eddie in spite of his own warning, holds Steve close for a moment longer, swaying him gently. “No one else matters. I know you love me,” he says. “Come inside and show me how much?”

Glady’s can’t see Steve’s grin from this angle, but she can hear it when he says, “Yeah. I can do that.”

Then Eddie gathers his keys from the floor and actually manages to get the door open, pulling Steve in and shutting it after them and–

Well.

Gladys stands alone now, her door still cracked open, showing her the empty hallway, and–

Well.

Actually– well, actually, certain things make quite a bit more sense now.

“My, uh, roommate,” indeed.

Gladys closes her door, wandering back towards her easy chair as she thinks.

The only thing that doesn’t make sense is the two of them having the idea that they have to keep this from her. Utter nonsense.

Gladys will show them, though; her boys—and their secret—will always be safe with her.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #eddiesteve #if I had a nickle for every time I wrote about a mlm ship from the perspective of an older widow I'd have two nickles #which isn't a lot but it's weird that I've done it twice #solar wrote #answers from solar #anonymous

[jujutsusimp]

So I finally could look at the actual panels of chapter 261 (still lying on my own pool of tears don't mind me).

Yuta holding all of this on his shoulders just crushed my soul even more, even if I knew what was going to happen, seeing it was clearly something else.

A couple things on my mind:

1) YUTA'S BODY

I FEEL SO SICK HE LOST AN ARM SO HE IS APOLOGIZING TO RIKA BECAUSE ENGAGEMENT RING ARE TRADITIONALLY ON LEFT HAND AND NOT ON RIGHT HAND

OH GEGE, IF I CATCH YOU GEGE 😰

Also seeing the sorry state of Yuta's body, can he ever get back into it??? Like I imagine he can take it back if he uses Kenjaku techniques on himself (and it's a one time activation) but would the body be in a good enough state to be used............. I feel like Yuta is either doomed to die if Kenjaku is not a one time activation, or to be trapped in Gojo's body (or another dead body which is not his.) In any case it's going to be horrible and I am already suffering, Yuta clearly didn't deserve such a gruesome fate...

2) THE GRUESOME ROOM

I was wondering wtf this room was at first, it took me some time (and the English translation because the French one was weird) to understand it was the room where the higher ups are.

So............. Gojo's students were just standing behind the door while he was wiping them out to make sure they wouldn't try to come after them if he died like they did in Shibuya... I am so sick... (Also still surprised at how Gojo manages to trust Gakuganji so much after he killed Yaga...)

3) Gojo didn't want his body to be used

He didn't say yes. He didn't say no either.. He dismissed it saying it was impossible for him to lose (while he was on his way making sure that if he did they wouldn't get into trouble... So the possibility he lost really was in his mind at this moment.). Of course he would never say no, if it's the only way to save the world and his students how could he say no... but yeah, it fucks me up so much that he didn't agree to this. Like it makes the profanation even worse somehow... (This is not to blame Yuta at all, Yuta is the one suffering the most from all of this and has valid reasons too, it's just another layer of fucking tragedy.)

IN CONCLUSION

Any spark of joy has now left my body, I think I will take a SMAU break next week because I can't see myself doing fluff right now. I will just eat ice cream and watches the most heartwarming animes known to mankind (please send recs) to recover.

#jjk 261 #jjk theory #gojo satoru #yuta okkotsu #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #manga spoilers #jjk gojo

[daydreaming-nerd]

The Prophecy (Lucien Vanserra x Rhys! Sister)/(Azriel x Rhys! Sister) Part 3 (Azriel's Version)

Part One , Part 2

AN: "Majesty, Palo is exhausted. Because Majesty only Palo can take this (angst) and this (groveling) and give you...a masterpiece."

No fr guys I put my whole puss into this plz tell me if you liked it

check out my masterlist

Summary: The only thing worse than having Azriel not know about the bond is watching him and Elain carry on like she doesn’t have a mate as well. Lucien and you have been long time friends but things change after one fateful starfall celebration. It’s not wrong if both of your mates don’t want you right? 

Warnings: angst, fluff like so much fluff, no editing (I'm so tired omg)

Word count: 9,370

We arrived in the house in silence, the only thing to fill the void was the crackling of the enchanted fire that always sprang to life whenever I walked through the door. My eyes were fixed on the floorboards, studying every grain of wood as I put together what had just happened. 

I had told Azriel about the bond, and I did it in anger. I had imagined telling him a million different ways over the past 400 years but never did imagine doing it out of spite. I was just so angry with Elain and her insufferable entitlement that had me seeing red. If anyone should act in such a manner, it should be me, I was a princess after all. 

I was furious with Elain there was no doubt about that, but the voice that kept echoing in my mind was Azriel’s. How he yelled at me. I had known him my whole life and I had never once been afraid of him, until today. 

As if he was tired of the silence, Lucien brushed his hand under my chin bringing my gaze to his, it wasn’t until then that I realized I was crying. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, brows furrowing at my tear stained cheeks. 

“Yeah,” I laughed him off, wiping the water from my face. 

“I’m sorry I interfered like that, I wasn’t sure if you wanted to speak to him or if you wanted me to kick his ass. But he seemed mad and I wouldn’t stand for him yelling at you.” Lucien apologized leaning against the back of the couch a good three feet away sensing I needed some space. 

“I suppose that I wasn’t sure what I wanted either,” I sigh leaning against the doorframe. “Thank you for stepping in. I think it was for the best.” 

“Of course, I’ll always be there for you,” Lucien nods before resuming his staredown with the floor, probably trying to make sense of everything just like I was. “Az seemed…concerned for you. I think the bond snapped for him.” 

“It did,” I say, running my hand over my chest, as if I could touch the faint glow of the bond that now sat in my chest. “It clicked the moment he saw us in the kitchen.”

“Are you happy it clicked?” he asked, once again asking all the questions I truly didn’t have an answer for, at least not yet. 

“I-I’m not sure.” I say honestly, knowing I didn’t need to hide my true feelings from Lu. “I’ve pictured him finding out a million ways, but over the last couple years I’ve kind of given up on the whole endeavor. I felt like I made it clear that I liked him, and he only met me with complaints about other women. First Mor and then Elain.” 

“Maybe he’s changed,” Lucien pointed out. 

“Even if he had it’s not because he loves me.” I murmured sadly. “You heard him in there. He only wants me because he feels entitled to me. He never once acted like he cared about me beyond being his best friend's little sister.” 

“I suppose you’re right, it’s hard to forgive 400 years of cruel behavior,” Lucien muttered, still staring at that little spot on the floor. 

I strode across the room and leaned against the couch with him. I wanted to say something, anything to break the silence. But it was as if all the air had been sucked from the room in one foul swoop. I had just let out a 400 year old secret and for the first time ever, our mates seemed to give a damn about us. I look to Lucien who is still processing everything and I recall how Elain was so upset to see her mate with another female.

“Elain…” I started, wanting to tread carefully. “She seemed pretty upset,” I said, only stating the obvious. 

Lucien chuckled, “Yeah, I think that’s the first time she’s ever called me her mate.” 

“And how do you feel about that?” I ask wanting to give him the same room to speak that he gave me. I knew if he didn’t feel like sharing he wouldn’t, Lucien was no pushover. 

“I feel strangely happy,” he says and for the first time since we got back his lip curls into a half smile. “I think that she might be willing to give me a chance.” 

My heart warms at the idea of Lucien finally getting to have a chance with his true mate, “I’m really happy for you Lu,” I smile, patting his hand that sat on the back of the couch. 

He snaps out of his trance, “that’s not to say that you’re not- you’re a wonderful woman y/n-” he rambles. 

“Hey, HEY!” I shout getting his attention. “I’m happy for you Lucien. You deserve this,” I laugh at his attempt to not hurt my feelings. 

“Thank you y/n,” he smiles, grabbing my hands and squeezing them. 

“What do we do now though,” I sigh looking at his family ring on my finger. 

His eyes flit to the ring as well as his thumb brushes over it, “We continue on as normal, we can push back the wedding. I’m not confident in what Elain wants from me at this point and you clearly are at odds with Azriel. If things don’t work out…” he trails off thinking about hsi next words. “If things don’t work out I would still be honored to have you as my wife. I still feel like we could make eachother happy.” he says earnestly. 

I look into his eyes of russet and gold and see that he truly means every word, “Okay,” I nod my voice barely above a whisper. 

“Okay,” he agrees, keeping his voice down as well. “Shall we head to bed?” he asks. 

“We shall,” I laugh, following him up the stairs. 

That night we didn’t make love, we cuddled as normal though, but somehow even that felt wrong, now that the bond I prayed over for so long hummed within my chest.

 While the little High Lord in training was typically quite docile, he had just learned to crawl and had begun flapping his little wings, which meant trouble was becoming the new normal. Which is exactly what had happened today…

“Nyx no!” I shouted as he reached for a heavy book on one of the bookshelves, his tiny wings helping him to gain the extra inch or two of ground he needed. 

I grabbed him from underneath his shoulders and brought him into my arms, bouncing him on my hip as his eyes caught the shiny necklace I was wearing. His little hands grabbed at it and I figured it was better than a vase or another heavy book. 

“Just wait till he can actually fly,” Lucien chuckled, coming up behind me.

“That won’t be for quite a while thankfully,” I laugh, bouncing the babe up and down.

“Are you so sure about that? Cassian seems to already be giving him lessons.” he points out. 

“I don’t even want to think about a flying toddler,” I scoff and Lucien chuckles behind me. 

 He pressed a kiss to the top of my head and I could feel his lips curling into a smile.“You’re going to be a great mother one day” he admitted. 

“I’ve always wanted children,” I said and a beat of silence passed until I decided to be bold. “Lu, do you think we could ever have children?” I ask, afraid to turn around and possibly see a wary look on his face.

I felt Lucien’s chuckle reverberate behind me, “Of course, I’ve always been fond of children myself,” he laughed. 

I whipped around with Nyx to search his eyes for a hint of uncertainty, but he seemed happy about the idea, “Really?” I asked in disbelief. 

“Of course,” he assured me. 

“I want a million just like little Nyx here,” I smile looking at the babe in my arms. 

“Minus the wings of course,” Lucien laughs behind me and I pause. 

My entire life I had always pictured my children with wings. Small, delicate little things that I would ‘ooo’ and ‘ahhh’ over.  I remembered seeing the Illyrian children in Windhaven growing up, I was always so happy when mothers would let me hold their babies, their wings so adorably small. I looked forward to having winged children of my own, I always pictured them scaling Azriel when they were little like Nyx, and as they got older I would watch as Az taught them to fly.

“What is it my dear?” Lucien asked, breaking me out of my trance. 

“Oh it’s nothing, it’s just that when I pictured my children I always figured they would have wings,” I say, pressing a kiss to Nyx’s temple. 

As if summoned, Azriel walked in, Rhys and Feyre in tow, signaling that their meeting was over. His eyes flitted to me, no doubt having heard what I had said. Lucien’s hand tightened on my hip.

Feyre’s eyes sparkled at the sight of her son and Rhys eyes sparkled at the sight of Feyre taking their babe from my arms. I reluctantly gave Nyx back, already missing being able to pretend he was my own. 

“He was a little angel,” I report to Feyre.

“If by angel you mean hellion,” Lucien chuckles behind me. 

“I would expect nothing less from a child raised by this family,” Rhys laughed, wrapping one arm around Feyre and brushing a hand against his son’s cherub cheeks. 

A silence rolled over the room as we all watched the little family reunite. I couldn’t help but flit my eyes to Azriel, who looked at them with a grin and a longing in his eyes. His eyes find me and I don’t dare look away. 

“Can we talk?” Azriel asked timidly, taking a step away from the doorway he leaned against. Feyre and Rhys take out of the room, no doubt feeling the change in the atmosphere.  

I searched his eyes for a hint of aggression but all I found was remorse, “Yes we may,” I say quietly.

Lucien releases his grip on my hip as I follow Azriel into Rhysand’s study and close the door behind me with a resolute click signaling that I was locked in here with him. Az takes up residence by Rhys’ desk, leaning against it like some sort of tortured man. I couldn’t help but notice he was still in his fighting leathers, his wings tucked in tight and his knuckles perched over his lips, like he was contemplating what to say. Even now, when he was at his most vulnerable, he was so beautiful. 

“I’m sorry for the way I acted last night. I yelled at you and I shouldn’t have,” he says fidgeting a bit. “Its just… it’s just that I was so pissed when I found him with his hands all over you and you just seemed so happy.” 

He sighs running a hand through his hair staring at the ground, still unable to meet my eyes. 

“I think that’s what bothered me the most,” he continues. “You seemed…happy.”

“You were upset because I was happy?” I scoff furrowing my brows at him, the fucking gall of this male. 

“No, no! Gods y/n,” he corrects me, running his hands down his face clearly upset with himself. “I think I was upset because I wasn’t the one making you happy.” he finally says and I can hear the vulnerability in his voice. 

I’m completely taken back by his words, at the fact that he admitted that he wanted to be the one to make me happy like that. The way Lucien did. It didn’t make any sense, given the fact that he never showed me in the last 400 years. 

“That’s funny coming from a male who’s been complaining to me about the females he’s been in love with for the past 400 years.” I deadpan, crossing my arms. 

“Is that how long you’ve known? 400 years?” he asked me, voice rising a bit. 

I nod, “I knew the night you danced with me on solistance in the Hewn City all those years ago,” I confess. 

“Fuck y/n,” he groans running his hands down his face. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Because you started panting after Mor and the second you gave up on her in walked Elain!” I shouted, it was the most obvious thing ever as to why I didn’t tell him. 

“You had to know that you were first,” he says, snapping his head up to meet mine, pleading in those hazel eyes. 

I gave him a blank stare not knowing what he was talking about. 

“Please tell me you know you were the first, before Mor, before Elain, I was practically on my knees for you,” he confessed. 

Once again I’m left speechless. Could it be true? That he had wanted me before I even knew about the bond? 

I shook my head, even if it was true he was speaking in past tense. I didn’t want him to be my mate because he felt like he had to be, I wanted him to love me, truly love me. I wanted him to choose me.

“I had no idea,” I admit feeling a bit of shame. “But that doesn’t matter anymore, it’s all in the past. I’m not mad at you Azriel.” 

“Thank the cauldron,” he breathes, crossing the room to cup my face.

I place my  hands on his wrists and pull them away from me, “Az I think that you should be with Elain,” I say, stepping back from him. 

“What? No.” he shakes his head and I take another step back.

“You clearly love her and she loves you, the cauldron made a mistake by making us mates, it's as simple as that,” I say trying to hide my tears.

I loved Az, a part of me always would, but I wouldn’t be his consolation prize just because the cauldron fucked up and made me his mate instead of Elain. I couldn’t live with that. 

“No don’t say that, please don’t say that,” Az pleads, his voice softening. 

“I’m sorry Azriel but I won’t be your consolation prize,” I say before grabbing the door handle and walking out into the living room where Lucien was. 

Azriel goes to say more until he hears the hitch in my breath. There, before me, Lucien is tucking a stray hair out of Elain’s face and placing a kiss on her knuckles. A sweet gesture, one I’ve probably read about a thousand times in my romance novels. Lucien’s eyes flit to mine, and I can honestly say I’ve never seen him so happy. 

“We’re going to give it a shot,” he smiles happily, putting an arm around Elain. 

“Really?” I ask looking to Elain who smiles brightly. 

“Yeah we are,” she says smiling up at Lucien. 

“Oh I’m so happy for you two,” I cheer before engulfing them both in a hug. 

“Congrats you guys,” Azriel mutters from behind me, seemingly abandoning whatever he was going to say to me in favor of praising his friends. 

Lucien chuckles at my excitement, “Don’t get too excited, we’re going to have to move my stuff out of your place today, I think it’s time I move back into the townhouse,” he smiled. 

“Well what are we waiting for? Let’s get started!” I cheer, grabbing his hands to winnow us away. 

In reality I wasn’t excited about the idea of moving, and much less excited about the idea of my little townhouse being empty again. But I needed to get away from Azriel. 

One week later:

After the all day affair of moving Lucien’s accumulated stuff out of my house and in the townhouse I was back to loving alone. Which at first wasn’t terrible. I was content to read my book and cook for myself when necessary. But after about a week I began to miss the food Lucien would make, or having someone to lie next to. It was a strange feeling, it felt like a breakup, but I wasn’t sad. I missed having another heartbeat in the house, not Lucien himself. 

After a week of getting my affairs in order my brother finally asked me for some help and I was thankful for the distraction. All week I had been in my own head about all that had happened, with Lu and Elain, with me and Az. I needed a break to think of something else. 

That’s how I found myself slipping on an old day court dress and getting ready to winnow to see Helion, an old friend of mine. I was leaving the house and locking the door when I ran smack into a large chest I screamed being taken off guard. 

“Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you,” a familiar voice apologized, I turn to find Azriel standing before me. 

“It’s okay, I should’ve been paying more attention,” I chuckle awkwardly. I hadn’t heard from the spymaster in a week, why would he come to talk to me now?    

Azriel’s eyes furrow from where they tower over me, “Why are you dressed for the Day Court?” he inquires. 

“Oh well,” I look down at the swaths of white fabric that cascaded down my body, suddenly feeling a bit exposed from off the shoulder dress. “Rhys wants me to go and schmooze Helion a little bit. Something about wanting to get him to agree to better trade deals.” I laugh remembering how my brother agonized over it the other day. 

“So he wants you to go and flirt with Helion?” Az cocks an eyebrow at me. 

“Well Helion and I go way back, and he’s always been…well keen on me.” I say honestly and I watch as Az bristles just a bit. I can’t even count the number of times the High Lord as tired to get Cassian and I in his bed

“I’ll give Rhys one thing he sure is ruthless,” Azriel chuckles trying to play off his nerves. 

“Is there something I can do for you?” I ask, still wondering why he’s here, at my doorstep. 

“Oh uh, no,” Azriel stutters. “Well actually I was walking by and I saw this and I thought of you.” he says pulling out a white rose. It looked like he had plucked it right off the bush down the street. “I thought you should have it.” he finished. 

I take the rose from his hand and notice that the thorns have all been cut off. I eye Truth Teller strapped at his side and the lingering thorn that was still stuck on its sharp blade. 

“That was very thoughtful of you Az thank you,” I tell him sweetly, taken back by his gesture. 

“You’re welcome,” he says, seemingly relaxing at my acceptance of his gift. 

I check my watch, “Well I really do have to go, Helion is waiting for me,” I wince moving past him on the stairs so I can get past the words my brother has on my place. 

“Yes of course,” Az says following me down the steps and out the wrought iron fence. “Do you need a ride?” 

“I’m okay, I can winnow,” I chuckle, closing the gate behind me. 

“Well I guess I’ll see you later then,” Azriel voices with a hint of a sigh. 

“Yeah I’m sure you will,” I reply before winnowing into Helion’s mansion. 

How could Az be so calm about all this? It was like he was trying to force himself to have feelings for me, figuring he better learn to love me now that he’s shackled to me for eternity. Part of me wondered if Rhys had given him a firm talking to and convinced him to attempt to like me.

“There she is,” Helion mused from the top of the stairs coming down the stairs dressed in his usual attire. Part of me hated that I found him attractive, in another life, if he wasn’t so promiscuous, I might’ve seen myself standing by his side. 

“Helion,” I smile, pulling him in for a hug. 

When we pull away his hands linger at my waist and his eyes look at the rose in my hand. “What’s this?” he asks plucking the rose from my hand. 

I think about the encounter with Azriel, how forced it all felt.

“It’s nothing,” I replied, shrugging my shoulders. 

Helion tosses the flower aside before throwing his arm over my shoulder and leading me inside, “So, your brother has sent you to convince me to agree to his new trade agreements.” he smirks.

“He’s done nothing of the sort, I came to visit an old friend of my own accord,” I tease, knowing Helion isn’t as daft as Rhys makes him out to be. 

“We’ll see about that new treaty after some wine, and tell your brother that next time he wants to use you against me as leverage he should just send you naked,” Helion chuckles. 

I erupt in laughter, slapping his arm as he leads us to a white couch with a bottle of wine sitting on the coffee table. 

Three days later after successfully getting Helion to agree to a new trade treaty I found myself sitting in my living room with a glass of wine enjoying the fruits of my labors. As soon as I told Rhys about the High Lord of Day’s cooperation he sent me one of his finest bottles of wine as a thank you. Not that I required any thanks, I enjoyed spending time with Helion. 

My silence was interrupted by my door opening and closing. I just about jumped out of my skin, the only one who had the key to the place was Lucien and he had given it back a long time ago. My heart pounded as I stood from the couch in my nightgown and robe. I had turned in for the night and certainly wasn’t expecting visitors. I lift my romance novel over my head and step around he couch ready to swing when I see Azriel locking the door behind him quietly. 

“Azriel you scared the hell out of me,” I sigh, lowering the book. 

He turns from the door looking me up and down taking in my casual attire hungrily. “I’m sorry I guess I’m just used to walking right in, I wanted to give you these,” he says holding out a large bouquet of white roses, exactly like the kind he gave me the other day.”

“Thank you Az, they’re beautiful,” I say wearily, taking them from his scarred hands. “I’ll uh- I’ll just put them in water,” I tell him, padding into the kitchen to grab a vase and fill it. 

“I thought since you liked the other one I gave you that you might like those ones too,” he says walking into the kitchen and leaning in my doorway. 

I place the two dozen roses in a vase,“Well I appreciate them, it’s been a while since I’ve had fresh flowers in the house,” I divulge to him, remembering how Lucien used to bring them home all the time. He would always ask for Elain to make him a bouquet, his little way of speaking to her in a way that didn’t make her uncomfortable. The thought had me thinking of how Lucien and Elain were probably sitting at a nice dinner right now, had me questioning why the fuck Azriel was here. 

A silence fills the room as Azriel sits admiring either me or the flowers, from where I’m standing it could be either or. I walk around the kitchen island to test the theory and sure enough his eyes follow me as I lean my back against the side closer to him.  A wave of embarrassment slips over me. Did Rhys ask him to bring more flowers again? Was I really that pathetic? 

“Az why are you doing this?” I ask, gesturing to the flowers behind me. 

Azriel straightens taking a tentative step towards me, “Because I want what Elain and Lucien have. I want you to give me a chance to be a good mate,” he says softly. 

I look to the wooden floors below me, my bare feet messing with a loose floorboard, “You don’t have to do this Azriel. If Rhys sent you I’ll just cover for you and say you came.” I say not daring to look at him. 

“I’m not here because of Rhys, I’m here because I want to see you,” he implored and I heard his feet shuffle closer. 

“I’m still not your consolation prize just because Lucien and Elain are doing well. I won’t do that to myself,” I say, continuing to mess with the loose floorboard. 

“You’re not my consolation prize y/n, you’re my mate.” Azriel states, his voice becoming more urgent causing me to tighten my arms around myself ever so slightly. 

His boots come into my line of sight and suddenly he’s titling my chin up to meet his pleading gaze. I’m suddenly all too aware of how underdressed I was. There was a time when I would’ve killed for this. But now? I won’t let myself be hurt again.

“Y/n please-” 

“Azriel I’m at peace,” I snap, cutting him off and looking down at our feet once again even though his hand still rested under my chin. “For the first time in 400 years I’m at peace. I have loved, and pined, and thrown myself at your feet for 400 years, and I am finally happy in my exile. So forgive me if I’m hesitant to give that up so quickly because you all of the sudden want a mate.” I bit out.

His shadows dance around my hands and I move my fingers out of their grasp, like their cold kiss was burning me.I wait for him to say something back, for him to breathe wrong, yell at me or leave but he doesn’t move. I let my eyes flit up to his, and I find him staring down at me, like he’s been waiting for me to look at him this whole time. 

“I’m not going to give up,” he states, if he was sad or upset by my previous words he doesn’t show it. 

I sigh, tossing my head back, “Az please,” I beg. 

“No I’m serious, I’m not giving up on you, on us,” he maintained steadfastly, his hands not leaving my cheek as he steps even closer to me and my back hits the cool granite behind me. 

“Azriel I think you should go,” I grit out, the second my body stiffens under his he steps back giving me my space. 

“Alright I’ll go,” he says, taking a step back.

I follow him to the door and hold it open as he steps out into the cool night air that has me wrapping my silk robe around me tighter, as if it was helping anything anyways. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he assures me before shooting off into the sky. 

“I really wish you wouldn’t!” I shout into the air after him before slamming the door and locking it. 

I take a deep breath once I’m seated on my couch again, trying to salvage any sort of peace I might still have. But that tranquility was disappearing in my hands the more I chased it. 

The following day I head to Rhys’ house to talk over the new adjustments in the Day Court trade agreements. It was supposed to be easy enough, but as things got more and more complex it ended up being an all day thing. By the time I walked up the steps to my own townhouse I was exhausted and starving. I wasn’t looking forward to bread for dinner as I had no time to go to the market today. 

I kicked open the door and locked it behind me, the smell of fresh tomatoes and basil wafted through the air causing me to pause in my tracks. Was Lucien here? Had him and Elain gotten in a fight or something?

“Ah shit!” I heard a male cuss followed by the searing of liquid on a burner. 

I curiously walk around the corner of the kitchen where I’m greeted with the sight of Azriel, standing in my apron, reading my cookbook and stirring some sort of sauce. His shadows were helping him turn the pages of the book. I see the spilled sauce on the burner that was the cause of his profanity just moments ago. 

“There you are,” he smirked, his eyes flitting up to mine before reading the book again. 

“Az what are you doing here?” I ask, setting my bag down on the table. 

“Making you dinner,” he said, gesturing to the numerous used pans and utensils lying around my once clean kitchen. 

I walk over to inspect what he’s cooking. Fresh herb crusted chicken cooks in the pan next to him while he stirs a red sauce. In the sink is cooked pasta sitting next to freshly sauteed green beans. I inhale the smell of the food deeply and I can’t help but feel myself salivate a little, it smells delicious. 

“You always dog ear the recipes you want to try but you never make them for fear of not liking them,” he says nonchalantly as he prods at the chicken. 

I look down at the cookbook he’s reading, sure enough the recipe he’s making has a bent corner. I had been itching to try it but had never found the time. 

“If you end up not liking it there’s take out from Rita’s in the ice box,” he said using the spoon to point to the ice box in the corner of the room.

I look up to fully inspect him. This all feels like a ridiculous practical joke. If someone had told me that my spymaster would be cooking me dinner I would’ve laughed in their face. Upon further inspection I realize he’s shirtless, save for my apron he’s wearing. 

“Was the half nudity necessary?” I cock an eyebrow leaning against the counter. 

Azriel barked out a laugh, “It took me a while to find the apron, I had gotten tomato juice on my shirt when I started chopping them up for the sauce so I took it off and washed it,” he explained the corner of his mouth turning up in a smirk. “Plus I figured the whole shirtless bit might win me more brownie points with you.” 

I rolled my eyes at his cockiness, I didn’t dare let him know how right he was. 

He laughed at my reaction, “Why don’t you go sit down, dinner’s almost ready.” he said gesturing to the couch. 

I shrugged my shoulders and padded my way over to my favorite reading spot. The one he found me in yesterday. I plop down on the velvet sofa and there in front of me on the coffee table, my book has been left open to the place I bookmarked and a glass of wine sits for me. I raise an eyebrow but decide to just roll with it, I pick up the book and sip on the wine, becoming engrossed with the story.

A few minutes later I feel the cold begin to bite at my toes. I look around for a blanket and see that the nearest one is across the room. I curse at the idea of having to move, but before I can even set my book down one of Azriel’s shadows is scurrying across the room to retrieve the knitted blanket for me. The wisp of darkness arranges the blanket neatly over my legs, tucking me in like a mother would her child.  I can’t help but laugh at the care the little thing is putting into the job. 

Azriel’s shadows looking out for me was nothing new, the second the bond clicked for me they tended to stay near me. Picking up pens and silverware I dropped on the floor and always twirling around my hair and wrists. There were even times they would try to drag Az near me, like on starfall and solstice, nights I looked especially beautiful. But he would always curse and wave them off until they left him alone. 

The little shadow perched itself on my shoulder as if it too wanted to read my book. I could sense it was trying to anticipate any other small need I might have. 

“You know he might be insufferable but you guys are pretty great,” I laugh looking at the curious being. 

In response the shadow boops itself on my nose as if it was giving me a kiss. 

“Don’t tell them that or they’ll get a big head,” Azriel murmurs behind me where he’s leaning against the doorway between the living room and the kitchen, still shirtless and wearing that damned apron.

“In that case I’ll be sure to praise them more often, they’re little angels,” I smile as the tendril of darkness dances around my collar. 

Azriel lets out a small chuckle behind me, “Dinner is ready,” he tells me before disappearing into the kitchen once more. 

I follow him as the small shadow frantically pulls at my wrist towards the table, as if it’s eager for me to see what it helped its master cook. When I walk into the darkened kitchen and find that Az has set the table not only with our dinner but with candles and another bouquet. This time it’s an arrangement of jasmine, no doubt from the florist down the street. 

I sit down and inhale the heavenly scent of the white flowers and hum in delight. Azriel comes in with a bottle of wine and two glasses, pouring us each a bit. He sees me admiring the flowers and smiles. 

“Jasmine, like your perfume,” he says, putting down the bottle and taking his seat next to me. 

I smile and look down at the plate before me. It looks delicious, the pasta is fragrant with basil, the chicken is cooked to perfection and the green beans are vibrant and green. I lift my fork and dig into the past first. The moment it hits my tongue the flavor melts in my mouth, rich, bold and oh so savory. I let out a moan as my eyes flit to Azriel who is watching me expectantly wondering if I’m going to like it or not. 

“This is incredible,” I say, covering my mouth with my hand so he doesn’t see me chewing. 

“Thank the cauldron I thought I put too much red pepper in,” he breathes out, seemingly relaxing before digging into his own plate. 

“No it’s perfect, thank you really,” I say earnestly. 

“You’re welcome,” he smiled, taking a bite of chicken.

We sit and eat our meals in silence simply enjoying the good food. A little shadow flitted up in front of my face to gauge my reaction to the bite of chicken I was chewing. I couldn’t help but laugh as it shifted like it was cocking its head at me. 

“Yes it’s very good, you did a wonderful job,” I laugh at the little fella. 

My giggle brings Azriel’s attention to me once again and before I know it he’s waving his hand at the little tendril like he’s swatting a fly. 

“Hey go away let her eat for the love of god,” he chastises as the shadow slinks back behind him. 

“Don’t worry it wasn’t bothering me,” I laugh taking another bite of green beans. 

“Yeah well they haven’t been listening lately,” he says looking back at the little shadow that had slinked behind his shoulder like a reprimanded child. 

I shake my head at the two of them interacting and take another sip of wine. To be honest I wasn;t really sure what to say to Azriel. Despite his valiant efforts to win me I still wasn’t ready to abandon the peace I had grown so fond of. 

“You know it’s funny,” he tells me, playing with the food on his plate. “I feel like my shadows have always liked you. It was like they knew before I did,” he laughed nervously at his confession. 

“Maybe so,” I shrug, not wanting to broach the subject, the friendlier we could make this the better.

“I can remember times when they would drag me into any room that had you in it. Most of the time I control them, but when it comes to you? They control me.” he laughs while taking a sip of his wine. 

“Thank you again for dinner,” I say, forcibly changing the topic of conversation. “It’s been a while since I had a home cooked meal. I think the local restaurants have my to-go orders memorized now.” I laugh. 

“Lucein used to cook for you didn’t he?” Azriel asks, and I can feel his eyes burning into the side of my head as I play with the pasta on my plate. 

“Yeah he did, he was a surprisingly good cook too,” I say, recalling the traditional Autumn Court meals he would cook all the time. They were mostly for him, for when he was feeling nostalgic, but he always left some for me as well. 

Azriel sits for a moment as if debating whether or not to say something for a moment. “Did you love him?” he asks. 

My fork clatters to the plate at the abrupt question and I’ve never felt so put on the spot. It was never something I had thought about in regards to the autumn court male. Love seemed like an emotion  that would be reserved for Azriel and Azriel alone, until one day it wasn’t. I didn’t love Lucien, but I certainly stopped loving Az in that way, or at least I think I did.

“No I didn’t” I say honestly turning to meet the shadowsingers gaze. “Lucien and I… it was never like that. We both knew what we needed for each other, it started as just sex. But then he would stay the night, and then we started going to breakfast. His shirts started showing up in the laundry hamper, his books on the coffee table. Eventually I just gave him a key, it seemed like the logical thing to do. We didn’t even label our relationship until he asked me to marry him.” 

“I wasn’t sure,” Azriel said, going back to shyly staring down at the table. “I overheard your conversation that one day. When you asked him about the possibility of having children. You said that you always pictured your children having wings, was that true?” he inquired. 

I nod shallowly, unable to trust my own words in such a raw moment. 

If Az had any other questions he didn’t ask them or press me to talk about the two of us, it was as if he was happy with the answers I did give him. He was perfectly content to let me finish eating my meal in comfortable silence. When I was finished he cleared the table and didn’t let me lift a finger to help clean. Instead those pesky shadows cornered me into reading my book once more. 

It wasn’t until a few minutes later that he came in, dressed in his shirt once more to bid me goodnight. He insisted that I stay in my comfortable spot by the couch as he walked himself out locking the door behind him. As the comfortable silence, which I had grown so used to, ensued, I found myself silently wishing he had stayed just a little longer.

The following weeks were spent with little visits from shadows and shadowsingers. Sometimes it would be Azriel showing up at my door with coffee or gifts. Other times, when Rhys had Azriel on missions he would find ways to leave things at my doorstep. The first time it was another bouquet of flowers and then chocolates. 

My favorite gift from Azriel had been the books. The first set he got me was the second and third book in my series. They appeared at my door the morning after he made me dinner with a note that read…

I noticed that you were almost done with your book last night so I went out to get you the second book. I noticed it was a short book so I got you the third in case you finished it in one day like you no doubt will. 

-Azriel

Of course he was right and I finished the second book by the end of the day. When I opened the third, and much longer book, to begin reading it a bookmark fell out and another note. 

I figured you might need a bookmark for this one.

-Azriel

He was right about that as well. 

The next book to be delivered was a classic romance with certain pages, and quotes underlined. His notes scribbled in the margins. Clearly he had taken the time to read the novel himself. When I saw the first annotation I expected his further notes to be corny or cheesy, but each one was well thought out. 

The most recent literally delivery was a small and short book about different types of flowers. Between each of the pages sat a live flower that corresponded with the page. It was possibly the most vibrant and beautiful bouquet I had ever seen and by far my favorite floral gift I had received. 

This week though things had been different. As the colder months were drifting in I started spending more time inside, reading by the fire. But not once had Azriel stopped by. Not a present, not a note to be found. When I subtly asked Rhys were the shadowsinger was he told me he was in the isle of Hybern. 

A week had come and gone without so much as a tendril of a shadow to be seen. I sat infront of my roaring fire with a book in hand trying to escape the bitter cold. Outside the first snowfall of the year had taken the form of a blizzard. I pitied the shopkeepers that would have to walk home in it. 

Around midnight I heard the scraping of metal against stone from outside my house. I jumped out of my skin and quickly looked at the clock noting the late hour. I set down my novel to wrap myself in a blanket and pad over to the front door. I could already hear the winds outside and feel the cold air seeping in through the cracks in the door. 

I open the door to investigate the strange sound and I nearly gasp when I find Azriel outside my house shoveling my walkway with a small shovel from my garden. One meant for digging out plants and trees, not snow. 

“Az what are you doing?” I ask, making the spymaster jump a bit. 

“I’m shoveling your walkway. I didn’t want you to slip tomorrow morning or hurt your back trying to shovel it yourself,” he said, digging into the snow again with the little metal shovel. 

“Oh Az you don’t have to do that,” I coo walking out into the cold pulling my blanket tighter. 

“I don’t have to but I want to,” he said shoveling more snow. “It wouldn’t take so long if I had a bigger shovel.” he grunts, frustrated.

“Well why didn’t you take Rhys’ shovel?” I laughed watching as the overgrown Illyrain tried to mangle the tiny thing. 

“Well I just got back from Hybern, I saw it had snowed and I came here first.” he explained and my heart swelled. He had come to my place first before he even went home. “I figured if I didn’t do it you would fall and break your head open.” 

“Azriel, really you don’t have to do this, I can handle it,” I plead with him feeling bad that he’s subjected himself to the weather. 

He stops his shoveling and turns to look at me, “y/n I want to do this. Don’t worry about it.” he says before looking me up in down seeing that I’m in nothing but a short nightgown and a blanket. “Now go inside before you catch a cold.” 

“Me? What about you?” I laugh looking around at the snow falling around us. 

“I’m Illyrian the snow doesn’t bother me,” he retorts and I can tell that he’s lying by the pink in his cheeks from the cold.

“Well I’m half Illyrian,” I counter, swinging back and forth on my heels. 

“Then I’m sure half of you is really cold,” he rebuttals. “Now go back inside and get warm before I carry you inside myself.” he smirks before shoveling up another heap of snow. 

I just shake my head and retreat to the warm fireplace awaiting me. 

I waltz into the House of Wind  where the Solstice party is in full swing. Lords from neighboring courts are chatting and drinking all around and from the corner of the room I can hear Cassian’s booming laugher as he doubles over at something Helion has said. 

Like almost every solstice party I arrive fashionably late. I truly never mean to be the last to arrive, but it feels like the whole guest list decides to arrive early just to spite me. I make my way around the area where couples and children are dancing to a small quartet and head toward the bar. My dress billows behind me like liquid starlight. Just like every solstice party before this one, I will get by with copious amounts of wine. 

I lean against the bar and watch as Elain and Lucien laugh and giggle across the room. I smile as Elain pops a pastry into Lu’s mouth and I can’t help but feel a warmness in my chest at the two of them. Lucien was finally happy with his mate, and if there was ever someone who deserved such happiness it was him. 

My thoughts are interrupted by a shadowy friend making its presence known. Flying up by my face to say hello and then rushing behind me as if it was called. I turn to see Azriel dressed immaculately staring at me. His eyes flit up and down my body taking in every detail of me.

“You look…” He trails off, shaking his head, as if the words he was going to say wouldn’t be the right ones. “There are no words. Even the poets would get it wrong.”

I can’t help but blush at his choice of words, taking a step toward him as the shadows behind me are pushing me to do so. 

“You clean up pretty good yourself, spymaster,” I chuckle giving him a once over.

He blushes and then speaks again, “I mean it, you look beautiful tonight y/n.” 

I blush again and turn my head to avoid his gaze, like that shade of hazel might burn me from the inside out if I look too long.

“You must allow me to dance with you,” he says, taking both our drinks and placing them on the bar. “Not having you out on that dance floor would be a disservice to everyone here.”

I laugh taking his outstretched hand and allowing him to lead me to the dancefloor, “Alright Az you’ve convinced me, but only because I know you won’t step on my feet,” 

We fall into a comfortable motion, swaying back and forth to the slow tempoed song the quartet is playing. The couples around us filter around us, some lost in deep conversation, some embraced closely swaying to the song. I keep my eyes on them, knowing that Azriel’s gaze is on me. 

Memories of a solstice much like this one float through my mind. The way my feet ached before Azriel saved me, sweeping me up into a dance. The way the bond felt when it snapped into place for me. I had pulled on it so desperately hoping he might feel it too. I thought of all the years of agony that followed that night. Watching Az fall for Mor and later on Elain. Hearing my brother and Cassian talking about Azriel’s exploits in bedding local women. All of it tore me apart and it took over 200 years to rebuild the part of me that I had lost. I wondered if I would ever be whole like that again. 

I hear Elain and Lucien’s laughter once more, the sound breaking me from my thoughts as Azriel and I continue to sway to the music. 

“They make a great couple,” Azriel’s deep voice rumbles through me. 

I smile watching Lucine place a kiss to his mates lips, “They really do,” I say with a lightness to my voice. 

“Do you think we’ll ever be like that?” He asks tentatively and my world comes crashing down. 

“Az,” I say and his face falls at the dismissal in my tone. 

“Why not y/n? Why can’t we have a shot like they can?” Azriel says starting to get upset.

As if on queue the song that the quartet is playing ends and I hear the musicians flipping through their sheet music to find the next song. I pull my hands out of Azriel’s and take a few steps back.

“I think it’s time for me to go,” I say calmly, trying not to let the damn of tears break. I swiftly move past him towards the door. 

“Y/n wait!” I hear him call out behind me but I’m already out the door, my tears falling down my face as I make my way back to that empty townhouse in the middle of the city. 

The rain outside my house slams into the window violently. Spring has come early in Velaris and I wasn’t exactly upset about it. At least I wasn’t until this torrential downpour blew into town. I hadn’t seen rain like this in the Night Court for at least a hundred years now.

It’s been weeks since solstice and it seems that Azriel has finally taken the hint and left me alone. I hadn’t heard a peep from him since that dance. Not a flower, chocolate or shadow to be seen and while I should be happy about it I had never been sadder. After all the walls I put up trying to keep my peace it seemed that he had succeeded in breaking them down again. 

I sat by the fire staring down at the dancing flames, no book, not even a glass of wine or tea. Just me and my all consuming thoughts. Each one of them led back to hazel eyes and blue siphons. 

I jump at the sound of a fist pounding on my door. Pulling my sweater tighter to cover up my nightgown I walk over to investigate who would have the guts to stand out in this monsoon at this hour. When I open the door I find Azriel bracing his arms against the doorframe, out of breath like he ran here. His hair soaking wet and sticking to his brow as the rain pelted him. 

“Az?” I shout over the sound of rain. 

“I can’t go on like this any longer y/n, I won’t do it!” he shouts over the storm. 

“Az it’s pouring what are you-” 

“I love you y/n!” he shouts stopping me mid sentence. “From the moment I met you I knew. I wanted so badly to put my hands around your waist and kiss you. And if you’re wondering why that seems like such an adolescent dream it’s because that’s what we both were. I was 117 years old and  you were 115 and that’s all I wanted. I knew little of love, even less of lust. All I knew was that I wanted to kiss you,” he hollers over the sound of rain wiping the water from his eyes.

“I’ve made mistakes, and I’ve hurt you, but I swear to you I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you, because I love you. And I don’t care that you don’t love me too, because I love you y/n. I choose to love you!” he finishes and I can’t tell if it's rain falling from his eyes or tears that match my own. 

I choose to love you.

I take a shaky breath and take in the sheer desperation on his face, “I love you too Azriel,” I laugh feeling another tear slip down my cheek. 

He doesn’t waste a moment, stepping through my threshold and cupping my cheek to place a searing kiss on my lips. I melt into him, feeling his clothes soaking my own as my nightgown clings to my skin. His hands are on my waist, scarred and cold from the elements but still so intoxicating. My arms wrap around him pulling him further into the entryway. I hear him slam the door shut with his boot drowning out the sound of rain leaving only the music of our ragged breaths as he kisses me deeper. 

He pulls away to press his forehead to mine, his wet hair and skin causing drops of water to cascade down my own face. 

“I love you so much,” he breathes cupping my cheek to press a chaste kiss to my lips. “My mate.”

I pull him in deeper at the utterance of those two little words. I had waited 400 years for this male to kiss me, and this kiss right here? Well it made everything all the more worth it. 

Epilogue: 5 years later

I stand outside on the lawn of the townhouse. My arms clutching around the sweater I’m wearing as the fresh spring air blows over my skin. My hands drift lower to the small bump of my stomach. 

I was only a few months pregnant and barely starting to show. Elain had told me that it would be a girl claiming she had seen it in a vision. I couldn’t have been more excited for Azriel to be a girl dad. 

“You’re doing it son!” I hear my mate call from the sky where he teaches our son to fly. 

“Dad, I'm flying!” the onyx haired child shouted as he flapped his wings to pick up some speed.

At first I was apprehensive of him learning to fly so early, even though it had always been a dream of mine to watch my children learn to fly. But Azriel had assured me that the youngster was more than ready, and after a few weeks of lessons here he was taking to the air like a natural. 

I look around at the townhouse behind me. It had seen some significant changes since the night Azriel stood in the rain and told me he loved me. The front yard was littered with toy swords and shields, and the outside had a fresh coat of paint. The inside had a room addition, a room for our son, Kai, and now we're adding another room for our daughter. All paid for by Rhys of course who was more than happy to give his nephew and niece everything under the sun.

My thoughts are interrupted by Azriel slamming into the ground before me. I turn to see him walking over to me with a smile on his face. 

“Az shouldn’t you be up there with him?!” I fuss looking to where our son swoops and dives through the air. 

Azriel laughs and picks me up bridal style, pressing a kiss to my lips. 

“It didn’t feel right being up there without my girls,” he smiled nodding to my bump. 

Without warning he took off into the sky meeting Kai up there. We must’ve spent hours flying around the city, stopping by every uncle and aunt's house to show them Kai’s new skill. Everything was perfect, and for the first time in my whole life, I finally knew peace.

(Do you guys want a smutty bonus chapter of what they did after he confessed his love???)

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