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#requests are open if you want something in particular
finniestoncrane · 2 days
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Pleaseeeee can I have a softer Cooper who worries a lot about his girlfriend having to deal with people looking at them weird all the time, but who would be happy to yell "THIS IS MY MAN!" to anyone who would listen?
Willingly
Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 1.5k i am already on the soft cooper train oh no lmaooooo just a little bit of soft boyfriend cooper, or as soft as i imagine he can get, being defended by his partner 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: guns, blood, violence, good old fashioned trope fic!
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Cooper struggled against your gently grip, his gloved hand pulling away from yours, fingers no longer entwined with yours. You looked to him, noticing he was avoiding your inquisitive gaze, and then noticed the crudely painted sign on the wall ahead of you. The gates to the nearest settlement were just ahead of you. Your last stop before you headed on to the next job.
“What? Are you embarrassed to walk in here holding my hand, Coop?”
His easy, charming smile seemed a little off as he spoke to you, still looking straight ahead.
“You kiddin’? Darlin’, this is for your benefit. Not many settlements are alright with folks like me at the best of times, but with you on my arm? We’d both be in danger, and I can’t keep spendin’ all my time savin’ you.”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes.
“I can hold my own. You know that.”
There was no response, but you knew better than to keep fighting your corner in this particular arena. So instead, you sighed, placing your hands which now felt so incredibly cold and empty, back into your pockets to keep them from mindedly grabbing Cooper’s hands again. You couldn’t be too annoyed. For someone as stoic and cold as he could be, the fact he tolerated holding your hand at all was a pleasant enough gesture. But his willingness to offer up any form of physical affection dwindled completed when there was a risk of running into people. He became reserved, quiet, well-behaved almost. It was something you hadn’t expected from him, to be shy or to allow someone else’s opinions to hold him back. And admittedly, a lot of the time, you had worried that it was because he didn’t want to be seen with you. But you knew it was the other way around in his mind. He was afraid of how people would look at you.
As though he could hear your thoughts, knowing you well enough after all this time together, Cooper spoke finally as you sidled up to the gates.
“You wake up to this face smiling. You call me handsome. You say I’m charming. Good lookin’ I might be in your books, but there ain’t a lot of charm left in these old bones, sweetheart. I couldn’t talk my way out of an argument, and since you keep remindin’ me that I’m not allowed to cause problems everywhere we go…”
He tapped his thumb against the barrel of his holstered gun.
“… Then I just better not give anyone any more reason not to like me.”
“Well, I like you, Coop.”
“And I will forever question your judgement on that, kid.”
Smiling, you both passed through the open gate of the settlement and separated with a nod to get the supplies you needed. Quicker, and safer, to go separately. But still, you kept your head down, Cooper with his ragged mask up and his hat brim tipped to cover as much of his face as possible. Quiet, subtle, nondescript.
It didn’t stop them though, three of them. Pointing towards you, setting their beer bottles down on the stained and rusting bar top as they rushed to follow you.
“Hey! Hello there, pretty lady! You all alone?”
Turning, you spotted the colour of the uniform first, immediately recognising that you had made a mistake in even acknowledging them. That telltale burnt orange jumpsuit. The arrogance in their smug smiles. The Brother of Steel.
“No. I’m not alone.”
“Sure looks like you are… you know, maybe you could come on over and we’ll by you a cola?”
They laughed amongst themselves as you walked on. That one answer and a quick disappearing act was all you were willing to give them, turning quickly back and trying to lose them in the crowd as they slapped each other’s backs and spat to the ground.
And you thought you had been successful. You found a trader with everything you needed on your list before you returned to wait just beyond the gate for Cooper, no further interruptions to your day from the louts at the bar. But the entire interaction had out you on edge, so much so that when Cooper appeared behind you, leaning in without you noticing to whisper in your ear, you jumped out of your skin. Luckily, he was quick, and managed to grab your wrist before your fist struck the side of his face.
“Jumpy, aren’t you? Maybe you don’t think I’m so handsome after all.”
His wink made you blush, it always did, and you bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from grinning like a fool.
“You surprised me is all, smartass.”
Cooper smiled, tightening the grip on your wrist and pulling you closer to him. You feigned some resistance, pretending to put up a fight against his grin, his charms, his strength. But you were following his pull, your lips almost touching his before the blow was landed.
Cooper’s body was knocked completely off balance, his body falling to the ground in a cloud of dust. Turning in the direction he was hit from, you found yourself staring down the three members of the Brotherhood from the market. Holding back some of the choice words you had for them, you managed to narrow it down to one question simple enough for even them to answer.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
Shocked by your ungrateful attitude, one of the men, the largest of the three, stepped forward and pushing your shoulder with his finger.
“We’re saving you from assault, lady! This monster had its hands all over you, but don’t worry, we’ll take care of it. And you’re welcome.”
You scoffed, face going red with rage as you knelt to help Cooper up.
“You’re not saving me, asshole! You’re ruining the fucking vibe, you dweebs.”
Again, a far more polite term than you had wanted to use, but that didn’t seem to make the men any less aggressive towards either Cooper or now you. The largest of the men grabbed your arm, pulling you back up and away from the hand that Cooper had held out to you.
“Oh… you’re one of those freaks! No wonder you turned down some good old-fashioned heroes like us then.”
One of the others nudged you to the side, the other pushing Cooper back down to the ground with a kick, turning around as all of them converged on you until your back was against the wall. Nowhere to go. Trapped by them as they made their disgusting comments.
“Why would you waste your time on some abomination like that, huh? You into freaky stuff? Cos I could sure show you a thing or two. What’s he got? Like two cocks or something weird like that?”
You spat out your retort, well aware of the repercussions, but not caring.
“He could be feral and I’d still let him touch me before I even thought about letting any of you near me.”
Bracing for impact, you squeezed your eyelids shut, opening them again moments later when you realised you hadn’t been hit yet. Instead, all three of the Knights were on the ground, Cooper kneeling over them as he tightened the lasso and added the long length around their wrists for measure.
“Oughta keep ‘em long enough for us to make our escape, hm?”
You nodded, smiling, surprised still at how effective he was at handling anything the Wasteland threw at him.
“And I did it all without too much violence and noise, like you asked.”
“My hero.”
You swooned playfully, watching him as he made his way to stand beside you, both of you looking down without an ounce of pity at the men who writhed before you in the dirt.
“And look at you, shouting all those kind words about me for anyone to hear.”
“I keep telling you, Coop. I can hold my own, and I don’t care what people think.”
“You sure about that, darlin’? The likes of these fellas don’t put you off none?”
His eyes darted towards the Knights, now trussed up and struggling against each other on the ground, straining their necks to move their heads out of the line of Cooper’s gun.
“What? You think I’m put off by the Brotherhood? Yeah… and the rads put me off stuffing tin after tin of delicious cram down my throat.”
Cooper grabbed your hand in his, initiating the contact for the first time, and pulled you away back onto the cracked road. He knew he’d let go before you hit the next settlement, but he felt a little bit better about the risks associated. Especially since he had to admit, you could hold your own. And you were determined to do so when it came to him. It was nice to feel like he could let the affection be reciprocated.
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foreingersgod · 17 hours
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So so you wanted a small town reader request so I thought of this one. She she’s from a southern small town and plays basketball for the SEC team of her state, she really made a name for herself there, but wants to broaden her horizons so she enters the transfer portal and somehow ends up in Iowa where meet Kate who is OBSESSED with her southern accent. Then it’s just Kate trying to show her interest bc reader is totally oblivious until one of their teammates says something
Southern Charm . KM
pairing: kate martin x reader
synopsis: after transferring to iowa’s basketball team to broaden your horizons, you end up meeting someone who changes your life
A/N: i got a request to do another country fic like this one with kate, so expect one with ‘country kate’ here soon!
also, i’m not very proud of this one so i’m sorry if it’s genuinely shitty lol :’)
NOT PROOF READ
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ever since you were little, maybe 7 or 8, you were fascinated with basketball. growing up in texas you were exposed to a large following of sports and hard core fans. your family was always repping the pro and college teams of your state with pride, attending several games throughout your childhood. basketball in particular held a special place in your heart. you remember watching the university of texas’ basketball games with your dad, absolutely enthralled by the game. it didn’t take long for your parents to get you involved in the sport. you played in small teams as a kid then on your schools girls basketball teams in middle and high school. and with a lot of hard work and determination, you got into the university of texas to play on their women’s team.
while playing for the university, you made quite the impression on basketball fans. you were quick, had unbelievable stats, and extremely adaptable. you were a pretty valuable player in most eyes. but after two years at the school, you started to feel restricted. there wasn’t a whole lot for you to improve on your skills so you made a drastic decision to enter the transfer portal.
it was an emotional decision. realizing you would be leaving teammates behind as well as your home state was hard, but you longed for something greater. not long after entering the portal, you had transferred to the university of Iowa. you were ecstatic despite having to move away. it was time to broaden your horizons and hopefully expand upon your skill set.
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗
you had arrived in iowa around a week ago and you were still adjusting. figuring out where all of the buildings were, where the dining halls were located, was a lot for you to handle. hell you could barely remember how to get to your dorm at this point.
you haven’t even met your new teammates, practices not starting up for a couple of days. the anticipation had you extremely nervous.
what if they didn’t like you?
what if they thought you sucked?
the days leading up to your first practice were consumed with these uncontrollable thoughts. but as you laced up your shoes and grabbed your duffel bag, heading out the door, you felt those nagging thoughts dissipate.
when you arrived for practice, opening the large metal doors to the gym, it almost felt like you were right back at home. you wandered over to where the team was warming up, hearing the squeak of the polished floors. quickly, looking up from her clipboard, bluder spotted you a few feet ahead. she met you on the sidelines to officially greet you for your first day.
“ah, YN!” she announced, grabbing the attention of the other girls “nice to see you again, glad you could join us. let’s get you introduced and settled in”
her smile was welcoming as she motioned for the girls to huddle up. everyone gathered around, you being the center of attention as you looked around awkwardly.
“team, i’m sure you’re all aware of our newest member, YN” lisa said “let’s be kind and supportive and help her get settled in on her first day alight?”
everyone nodded “great. YN, would you like to introduce yourself?”
you took a deep breathe as you studied their faces timidly, fidgeting with your fingers and trying to think of something to say.
“um, yea” you managed, hoping you sounded confident “i’m YN, i just transferred from the university of texas..and i’m-uh-really excited to get to know you guys”
the team offered their hello’s, walking up to you one by one to shake your hand politely and introduce themselves. they were all incredibly sweet right away, telling you you’d fit right in and complimenting your skills. you went down the line, excited to get acquitted with the team.
then, at the end of the line, stood kate martin. you had seen her play and you thought she was amazing so you were excited to finally meet her. she approached you with the most genuine smile, eyes lit with zeal.
“hey,” she spoke up, offering her hand to you “i’m kate, it’s nice to meet you YN”
you smiled back at her “it’s nice to meet you too! you’re a fantastic player, i’d be lyin’ if i said i hadn’t been excited to meet you!”
“i’m flattered, really, thank you” you could feel her hand linger on yours as she pulled away from the handshake “so texas, huh? i caught onto the accent!”
you both laughed “yea, i’m from a small town not too far from campus, so i got that signature dialect”
“i think it’s really cute,” she looked down, avoiding your gaze “think it suits you”
“thanks, kate” you blushed, smiling at her once more before bluder summoned everyone to resume warmups.
what a sweetheart.
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗
it had been quite sometime since you had finally settled into your new team. there was a lot of awkwardness and uncertainty, but you had started to feel like this is where you were meant to be. and like you had hoped, there was so much more room for you to improve rather than back in texas. you were playing amazing games, beating your own records and personal highs on a regular basis. going to iowa was truly the best thing for your career.
you had also grown really close to the girls since arriving. kate, especially, was like your best friend. she had always been so kind and sweet to you. at some point in your friendship, you started to develop a decent crush on the girl, but you had always assumed that she didn’t feel that way about you. so you stayed quiet as to not distrust your connection.
but recently, things have been a little off with kate. she often avoided you during practices and didn’t stay to say goodbye when you left. both things she did on a normal basis and now she just stopped doing it all together. she didn’t even bother to text you or ask about your day, nor did she laugh when you said things funny (she’s always giggled to herself when your accent was thick). you were beginning to wonder if you did something wrong.
it had been weeks of her dismissive behavior and you were starting to miss your best friend. your heart ached at the thought of her not liking you anymore. so you devised a plan to meet her during her extra early practice one morning and confront her, hoping to figure out why she wasn’t giving you the time of day.
it was about 7:00 in the morning, much too early for your liking. you’d never understood why kate, amongst others, wanted to be at practice an hour earlier. but you had managed to get out of bed at 6, suiting up and sneakily heading to the gym. you hoped you could catch her off guard, maybe surprise her so she’d have no choice but to deal with your confrontation head on. you were approaching the doors of the locker room, about to open the door, when you heard kate’s voice echo from inside. freezing in your spot, you shamefully eavesdropped to see what she was talking about.
“no! i’m not going to do that!” she exclaimed.
“why not?” you heard another voice, from the sounds of it, it must’ve been gabbie. “you’re like obsessed with her, just go for it!”
“i’m not obsessed, ok? there’s just something about YN that drives me crazy and i like her so so much, but i’m sure as hell not going say that right to her face!”
you went numb hearing your name fall from kate’s mouth. you tried to move closer to the door, wanting to hear what she was saying a little bit better, but you tripped over your own foot causing you to lunge forward. the doors to the locker on went flying open, your stiff figure busting through the entrance as you immediately gave yourself away.
you stood, completely unable to move as you looking up into the vastness of the locker room. sure enough, there were gabbie and kate, sitting in front of you. their eyes were wide seeing you burst through those doors, realizing they had just been caught talking about you. and it was no secret that you had heard almost everything they were saying.
“i’m so sorry!” you rambled an apology “i was just about to come and talk to kate, but then i heard my name, and i really didn’t mean to intrude like this i’m so embarrassed”
kate sat, also embarrassed as gabbie spoke up.
“i’m going to give you guys some privacy” she said “i think there’s a lot that kate needs to say”
and with that, she walked out of the locker room, leaving you and kate in awkward silence. you walked over to where she sat on the bench to take the seat next to her. she looked at you, hardly able to make eye contact.
“i’m sorry”
“for what?” you asked
“i shouldn’t have been talking about you behind your back. i had no idea you were gonna be here, not that that makes it ok-”
“kate, it’s ok” you placed a hand on her shoulder “i was here early cause i needed to talk to you, but i shouldn’t have stuck around to eaves drop”
“what did you need to talk to me about?”
you sighed, suddenly wishing you didn’t have to bring it up in the first place “it’s just that i’ve felt like you’ve been avoiding me and purposely not talking to me so i wanted to ask why…but i think i already kind of know why…”
“yea” she replied, voice cracking “you weren’t supposed to find out like that”
“if it’s any consolation…i feel the same way” you removed your hand from her shoulder, taking her hand in yours. gentle fingers ran over hers soothingly.
“you-you do?”
“mhm” you grinned “i’ve been too afraid to say anything cause i didn’t know if you felt the same and i didn’t want to ruin our friendship”
she didn’t say anything, just sat looking into your eyes. there were no tears, no anger in her eyes, just a certain longing that only you could recognize.
“i think im in love with you”
“you don’t have to say-”
“no i mean it” she continued “everything about you, from the moment i met you, i’ve been in love with. you’re perfect and funny and gentle, you have the cutest accent i’ve ever heard, and i don’t think i can handle being just friends”
“kate i think i’m in love with you too” happy tears welled in your eyes as you inched closer to her, feeling her breathe on your skin.
“can i kiss you?” she asked, but she didn’t even need to, you would’ve done it anyways.
“please”
and finally, your lips met in the most gentle yet passionate kiss. teeth clashing at the urgency of it, both of you so eager from waiting so long for this moment. you wished you could’ve stayed like that forever. nonetheless, she pulled away breathlessly, forehead resting against yours as you smiled at each other.
“it’s that southern charm” she joked, large hand resting against your cheek “you’re irresistible”
you laughed, pulling her into another kiss, trying to savor this moment for as long as you could.
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What I'd Do For You - LN
Summary: Y/n has got into the habit of helping Lando shave. Then he makes a very weird request to return the favour.
I have Lando brain rot after watching a bunch of his vlogs so...lol.
Themes: Lando being a little weirdo
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Y/n bites her lip in focus sitting on the bathroom counter, carefully move the razor while Lando watches her trying not to smirk. He's been told off one too many times for moving when she's got a blade to his face.
He's actually in the process of mentally building up the courage after y/n earlier stated she was due for a full body shower and that he couldn't join her because there is nothing sexy about it and she doesn't not need an audience.
"Ok, mr clean-shave is back." Y/n smiles before kissing him softly as she gently whips his face clean. "I'm getting pretty good at this. Think that's the cleanest shave I've done for you."
"Thank you, baby." Lando grins, flashing his dimples before going full attack in giving her a million and ten kisses, all over her face.
"Alright, you go keep yourself-"
"I want to shave something for you." Lando rushes out, actually so quickly that even he isn't sure if he really formed proper words.
"You what?" Y/n frowns making him grin at her.
"Can I shave something for you?"
Y/n pulls a face seeming to know exactly what her boyfriend is asking and is not eager to say yes about it. No doubt in her mind, he's not about to ask to shave her legs.
"You want to shave my vagina, don't you?" Y/n sighs in defeat while Lando perks up in excitement. Apparently not reading her tone of voice at all. "Lando...why?"
"Because I want to try."
"It's not as simple as shaving your face, you realise that right?"
"Please, baby? If I cut you I promise you can slap me."
Y/n groans a little not at all looking forward to this experience.
"Nothing I haven't seen before."
"Yeah, um giving head is a little different to taking a sharp blade down there."
"You can say no."
Y/n looks at him for a moment hesitant in her decision.
"But please?" Lando smiles with a quick pout stealing a kiss.
"This stays between us."
"I promise." Lando nods looking so excited that she can't help but smile at him for a it. "Ok, good."
Y/n puffs out a breath trying to figure out how she's meant to talk him through shaving, it's not something someone taught her. She just did it one day and thankfully hasn't taken any permanent chunks out of her flesh.
"Wait-" Y/n panics grabbing his wrist when he just picks up the razor, not even bringing it close to her. "Ok, wait. I just...I want to make sure it's a good position for you but also so I can just see what you're doing."
"Baby, you can trust me. I know this particular part of your body probably better than you do by this point." Lando states earning a deadpanned expression from the young woman. "Do you trust me?"
"Yes, but that is...a very precious body part and easily damaged."
Lando smirks at that before nodding then kissing her softly. After a few huffs and puffs, managing the initial bikini line, he shakes his head.
"Can we lie you down? I don't trust myself at this angle." Lando states earning a look making him manage a reassuring smile. "I haven't cut you so far."
"I know." Y/n murmurs as she shifts to lie down on the counter. "This just feels so weird."
"On the bright side you know if you ever can't do it, like if you get surgery or pregnant. I can do it for you." Lando grins making her lean up onto her elbows looking at him. "Lie down and trust me."
"So easy for you to say that skin is fragile." Y/n pouts as she obediently lies back down.
It takes every ounce of self-control she has to not twitch and flinch away from every glide of the blade. If she moves there's no doubt Lando will slide her open. Or at least that's her fear right now and she feels like it's fairly valid fear to have given her position.
"You need to stop stressing out, baby." Lando laughs while she grumbles at him. "I'm done."
"You're done."
"Yeah, haven't missed a spot. Probably the cleanest shave of your live because I can actually see what I'm doing-and more importantly no blood." Lando grins proudly though she feels him poke around seemingly checking that he didn't miss any stray patches that he might've been more careful with. "You're like a hairless cat."
"A hairless cat?" Y/n frowns while sitting up.
"A bald pussy." Lando grins, laughing when she scoffs nudging him away and trying to hide her own amusement over his joke. "Would you trust me to do it again?"
Y/n sits up and pauses looking at him for a moment.
"You would! I knew it. I knew you would." Lando smirks, cheering as he kisses her cheek. "I'm not saying every time."
"Just went you're feeling bored or adventurous?"
"Yeah maybe." Lando shrugs then rubbing her thighs. "Wasn't so bad, you have to admit."
"Ok, it wasn't so bad. But the only way you're doing it again is if I'm after surgery or during pregnancy." Y/n states earning a smile from her boyfriend who seems almost like an excited puppy about this. "Such a weirdo."
"I just like getting to do new things with you. This was fun."
"Sometimes you really make me wonder how you brain works."
"Come on, you need to get dressed. We're going to go out on a date." Lando grins making her hum before he kisses her softly.
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frenchkisstheabyss · 9 months
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♡ SKZ Members Who'd Love Sleeping On Your Belly ♡
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♡ All of the love to @skz-story-request-always-open for asking me to do this adorably fluffy request ♡
While I'm sure any of our OT8 cuties would love cuddling up to a soft belly, these are the four who I think would be in absolute heaven if you let them do it.
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♡ Felix ♡
You let him fall asleep on your belly once and he's refused to do anything else since. At this point, if you even joke about not letting him do it you'll break his heart
Seriously, you can offer him the fluffiest of pillows and he won't touch them because nothing's more comfy than dozing off on you with his favorite song or show in the background
It's never unexpected when he lays on you because he tends to come running at you full force with his arms open and his face lit up, making cute little noises that let you know it's time for cuddles
As much as he enjoys your softness, what really makes it special to him is the closeness and vulnerability he feels when he's curled up against you with your arm around his neck, fingers playing with his hair as sleep takes him
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♡ Bang Chan ♡
His reputation as someone who rarely sleeps is unshakable at this point, insomnia's basically a part of his lore, but he's out like a light the second his cheek meets your belly
Something that always gets him is when you come up beside him while he's working and stroke his cheek, letting him lean his head on you. As someone who's responsible for taking care of so many people, it's nice when it's his turn to be cared for
He can, will, and has fallen asleep in the sitting position because you're so comfy, and having you in his presence is incredibly peaceful for him, quieting the thoughts swirling around in his mind
Nothing's cuter than the look on his face when you wake him up enough to make it to the bed or couch where he can truly settle in, interlocking his body with yours so that you can't go anywhere
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♡ Binnie ♡
This man's obsession with sleeping on your belly is the precise reason why you wake up with random body aches some days
He doesn't care where you are, what you're doing, or what time of day it is. If he feels himself nodding off, he has to find a way to get you into any position necessary for him to get to it
Clearly, he's not particular about if you guys are bent sideways to make it happen but he does have preferences when it comes to what you wear. His favorite thing to see you in is a t-shirt because it means his hands get easier access to squishing your belly
There's nothing remotely sexual about his habit of slipping his hand under your shirt to play with your belly. It's relaxing for him. It also helps that you giggle when he does it a certain way. He could never get tired of that
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♡ Han ♡
He never gets a better night's rest than when he's using your belly as a pillow but going to sleep's rarely, if ever, what he had in mind when he first laid down
It's a good thing though because, with all of the energy he has, he can start to feel burnt out at times and he always knows he can come to you as a safe space to restore his energy since you don't really want anything from him other than, well, him
Even though it's technically your stomach he goes feral if anyone tries to peel him away from you. You're his baby and he's gonna cling to you for dear life for as long as he can
His belly might not be as soft as yours but he constantly insists that you lay on him too so that he can hold you and sing you to sleep, watching over you to make sure you sleep as peacefully as he does
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angelltheninth · 3 months
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Saw your inbox opened and I have never touched the ask button so fast in my life lol!
May I request smut scenario for Dick x fem!reader x Jason where the boys got hit by Ivy's sex pollen and fem!reader (also a hero) being a good friend *helped* them with their problems *cough* pls? And then, at the end, maybe confession of romantic feelings between them UwU? Your choice in choosing kinks!
Srroy if my English sounds weird. It's not my native language.
This reminded of of the Harley Quinn episode but more kinky.
Pairing: Dick Grayson x Fem!Reader x Jason Todd
Tags: nsfw, smut, friends to lovers, confession, threesome, sex pollen, double creampie, friendly competition, degradation, praise, dirty talk, neediness, grinding, clit stimulation
Word count: 1.1k
A/N: Definitely not something I would ever want to happen. Nope.
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All three of you have been warned about the pheromones and their effects. This mission should have been over and done with quickly, but your recklessness made it a bit more... hard. For Dick and Jason in particular. They took the hit for you, they were the ones who were keeping you sandwiched between their hard bodies and hard cocks, Dick kissing your lips, Jason behind you, both of them grinding their hard cocks against you.
"Careless." Dick mumbled against your lips, his hand shoved down your pants and rubbing your pussy over your panties. "I'm sorry."
"I'm not." Jason laughed behind you, his gloved hands on your hips, his hips unapologetically grinding against you, "You're too sweet for this. Helping us out and all. But fuck... I can't say that I'm sorry. Just keep between us. I don't wanna see Dick's dick."
"Go fuck yourself." You sucked on his middle finger as soon as he put it up to Jason.
"Nah. She's doing a great of job of that. Aren't you sweetheart?" You groaned when Jason slapped your ass playfully. "Fuck. That was a nice sound. Sorry but I'm not waiting anymore. Unlike rule boy over there, I ain't gonna pretend I don't wanna fuck you." Jason's hands pushed his pants and your leggings down, his cock rubbing, gathering wetness between your pussy lips and smearing it across his cock. "Wet little pussy, all ready for me."
You were looking forward, into Dick's beautiful blue eyes but your hips bucked down against Jason. You were conflicted between the two men, you always were. Being with them felt good, having their attention felt good, now it was your turn to make them feel just as good.
"I can help you both." You whimpered as you pressed your lips against Dick's. "I can take both your cocks." You weren't so sure, just Jason's felt so thick, but you'd make them fit. They were the ones suffering.
"You're welcome to try." Jason was always so cocky when talking to you. He wanted to fuck you way before this. Dick on the other hand was more reserved.
His face was pink with blush, his eyes almost guilty as they looked at you. He wanted you too, but was afraid to say anything.
"It's okay. You- ah!" Before you could tell him anything Jason decided to be a jerk and push his cock inside you. "Jason, you fucking idiot." He laughed at your insult. You could call him any name under the sun as long as you kept taking his cock like you did. The fast slapping noises made it hard to focus but you forced yourself to.
You grabbed Dick's cheeks and pulled him in for a rough kiss. "I-"
"Don't apologize. If... if Jason gets to fuck me, then you should too." You tried to convey to him how much you wanted him too.
"Yeah, Dick. Come on, are you really gonna make a lady beg? Look at her!" Jason's barking laughter echoed loudly in your ears as you felt his hands grab your thighs and pull you up, your back leaning against his chest. You almost screamed at how deep his cock was hitting at this changed angle, his balls slapping against you with every thrust. "Bet you anything she's thought about this. She's squeezing so much, like a fucking slut. But if you don't want her then I'll use her up all on my own."
His words definitely got under his frienemy's skin. Dick pressed to your front, his cock pulsing over your clit, his hands slipping to your ass. "I can't. Not unless I say this." He leaned forward and ghosted his lips against yours. "I love you. I've always loved you, ever since I first saw you I wanted you."
"I love you too." His blush spread further as he rolled the tip of his cock over your clit and then pushed it against your already full pussy. "It's okay. It's okay, I'm gonna be okay." You were reassuring the two of them as much as yourself.
Jason's lips found your neck, leaving hard little kiss marks on it. Suppose you shouldn't neglect the man who was currently making your mind go blank. He sighed into your kiss, tongue pushing into your mouth with clamming force. Those kisses weren't nearly as forgiving as Dick's, Jason demanded you pay attention to him.
"You should hear it too. Jason, I- oh my god, oh fuuuu-!" You couldn't get a word in when Dick started fucking you too, two hard cock filling you at once, fighting for your attention, the pulsing, clenching wetness of your cunt. So Dick could be petty too. "Love you."
"The feeling is mutual." Of course Jason wasn't the best with words, with feelings. But he claimed to be the best at this. "Are two cock's enough for you? Or are you greedy for more? I wonder how many you could take? One. In. Every. Hole."
"Stop talking to her like that. She's not just some bitch you get to fuck." Dick growled at him and pulled you more towards him. "Come on baby. Tell him."
You wished you could deny what Jason said. Because you didn't want any cocks that weren't theirs. That was the truth. But you couldn't catch enough of a break between one cock and the other fucking your pussy. So you couldn't deny it. Jason laughed while Dick started you wide eyed and with his mouth parted in shock. His cock twitched inside you, his hold getting more and more possessive.
"I won't let them. No one else will fuck you. No one." You rarely saw him snap like this.
"Seems like she likes it. Maybe we need to make her see who she belongs to." And naturally Jason was encouraging this. Both men started fucking you faster, harder, your pussy filled to the limit and more. Your arms wrapped around Dick's shoulders to keep yourself grounded but Jason's arms still held your legs open. "We can do it inside right pretty girl? You want our cum in your pussy?"
"Y... Yes. Yes! Anything for you." You moaned, your hips moving on their own, no control or care, your mind swimming with pleasure. "I want your cum."
"Both our cum. At once." Dick repeated against your lips as he pushed in one final time, Jason giving it a few more good pumps, in and out, Dick's cum dripping down and soon joined by his, a torrent of warmth flooding your abused hole. Your vision went white, body boneless against Dick's, legs limp in Jason's hands as you shook and twitched. "Shit. Are you okay?"
"Holy..." Jason chuckled, "She came so hard she passed out." You groaned weakly, not enough strength in you to tell him to shut the hell up. "You did good." His lips pressed one side of your neck, the action soon mirrored on the other side by Dick. They kept kissing you until you were strong enough to move, to talk, to tell them you loved them both so much.
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wongyuuu · 3 months
Text
back room | csc
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pairing: seungcheol x f!reader genre: smut word count: 2.3k summary: while seungcheol is on a meeting you decide that it's a great moment to send him nudes. warnings: minors do not interact, kissing, stimulation, swearing, petnames, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don't do this) a/n: this is part of 1k event, it was requested @xcynthiaaa. i hope you like it. prompts: "Feeling a bit possessive, aren't we?" + “Can you stop sending me nudes, I’m at work.” lower case was intentional, not proofread
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you anxiously watched the meeting room, you glanced at your phone every now and then to make sure that seungcheol had gotten your text. he was doing a good job of keeping a straight face, his eyes not even once going to his phone or to you, though you were sure that he knew that the new influx of texts was from you. 
without meaning to, your eyes went from him to the woman sitting right in front of him. since the beginning of the meeting she never stopped looking at seungcheol and if the nasty gossip that floated to your ears was any true, she had been hitting on him a long time before you showed up.
maybe you were feeling a little insecure about yourself, because the woman was stunning, with the kind of face and body one could easily find in a magazine, or maybe you just hated the fact that there was a woman throwing herself at your boyfriend. to his credit, seungcheol never looked at her, unless she directly called his name, and when she touched his leg with her pointy shoes he scooted his chair back.
you bit your lip, wanting to come up with an excuse to go into the meeting room and maybe end it. but you didn't have a good one and although if you did go in, no one would ever bat an eye, it just wasn't right. and, more than anything else, it could backfire and instead of being amused by your sudden jealousy, seungcheol would get angry because you could have potentially ruined an important moment for him. 
so you kept your butt on your chair, doing your very best to keep your focus on the work that needed to be done. it was pointless and you knew that. every couple of seconds your eyes moved to the meeting room. 
"who was the idiot that decided that a meeting room should have glass walls?" you asked no one in particular. 
"pretty sure it was the ceo" wonwoo said from the desk in front of you. 
it was a surprise that he even heard you in the first place. wonwoo was great at ignoring the people around him, you more than anyone else, and he usually had his earbuds in, blasting music loud enough that people near him could hear it too. you liked to pretend that he never answered because his hearing was getting progressively worse because of all the loud music. 
"almost certain your boyfriend agreed, saying it was a great idea," he said, not looking at you. 
you choked on your own saliva, eyes wide as you reached for the water bottle on your right. no one was supposed to know about your relationship with seungcheol, as it was against company rules. both of you thought that you had done a good job in hiding it, a fantastic one actually. 
you never arrived together, never left together, barely talked of things that weren't specific about work, and if there was a company dinner you never sat close to each other, always choosing opposite sides, but careful enough not to be facing each other. 
you were always careful, to the point most people thought you didn't like each other. 
"he's not..."
"you don't have to lie" he waved a hand in your direction, "i'm the only one who knows. and i only know because i saw you together a couple of weeks ago at a restaurant" 
you opened your mouth to say something when your phone suddenly lit up with an incoming text. it was pathetic how quickly you grabbed your phone, to the point wonwoo laughed at you. 
cheol feeling a bit possessive, aren't we?
you bit your lip trying to hide your smile but it was almost impossible. when you looked at the meeting room, seungcheol's eyes were focused on you. 
to the average person, he looked displeased, angry even. but you knew that the glint in his eyes was for a different reason.
you moved your attention back to your phone.
you just wanted to remind you that you have a girlfriend
you went through your gallery again, clicking on the picture you took a few days before and pressing send. seungcheol had to be away for a few days because of work and because you weren't part of his team, there was no reason for you to tag along. you had been feeling hornier than usual, needy even. so you decided that if you were missing your boyfriend to the point where your fingers could do nothing but make you even needier, he too could miss you a little bit. 
so you took pictures of yourself sprawled in his bed, wearing the red lingerie you knew he liked the most, and sent it to him. it took him a couple of hours to see it and it was so long that you started to think that maybe it had been a bad idea and that though he was someone who enjoyed foreplay there were things that he wasn't willing to do. 
to your surprise and delight, he was more into it than you expected. 
after that, if you were feeling pretty enough, you'd take pictures and randomly send them to him. 
cheol you know i love it but, can you stop sending me nudes? i'm at work  we're at work
you okay ;)
you send him a different picture, this time one he had taken the night before, of your reflection in the mirror while you rode him. 
you smiled at your phone before setting it down, happy with yourself. seungcheol looked almost pained as he turned his attention back to the meeting, nodding his head every now and then, but his eyes continued to move back to his phone. 
he couldn't really believe what you had done, though you weren't the shiest woman he had ever met, for you there had always been certain boundaries you refused to cross. he couldn't help but wonder if you had gotten jealous enough to do that, send him pictures while he was in a room filled with people. had the client had gone a little further you would have barged into the room ready for a fight? 
his hard on was a little uncomfortable, and yes he crossed his legs in order to hide it, but it was extremely hard to keep the smile away from his face.
"i'm sure we can make the adjustments for next week, can't we seungcheol?" his boss suddenly said.
seungcheol cleared his throat and adjusted himself on the chair. 
"yes, i can finish it by friday next week
"great!" the woman said in her high pitched tone. 
seungcheol took a discreet deep breath to keep himself from rolling his eyes. 
he didn't know how you even thought that he could be interested in her, or if anything at all even went through your brain. the client was objectively pretty but everything else about her didn't do much for him. and she crossed one too many lines during the meeting. seungcheol made it a point to keep quiet for the day but there was no way he would stand another meeting with the woman. he would still work on the project but the ceo could handle her by himself, something told him he would be happy to.
"i was thinking that maybe we could all go for lunch," she started.
seungcheol stood up, shaking his head. he pulled the folder from the desk and held it in front of himself. the sight was ridiculous and he could picture you laughing in his head.
"i have a lot of work to catch up on, i'll have to pass on it"
the polite thing to do would be to shake her hand but seungcheol wanted to get away as fast as possible so once the ceo nodded at him, he turned on his heels and left the meeting room. 
he went straight to your desk. you smiled while looking down and at the mere sight of you, his cock twitched like he was a fucking teenager that had never seen a woman before. 
"yn, i need you at the archive room. now"
at the sound of his voice, you looked up. your smile melted away and you wore the usual serious face whenever seungcheol was around. 
he hated it, the fact that you had to hide your relationship. he wanted everyone to know that you were his, and then maybe all the stupid men in the office would stop trying to ask you out. 
"why?" you asked, your tone bored. 
"because you were the last one to go through the files and i need help" he matched your bored tone. 
wonwoo laughed, making seungcheol turn to him. he raised his eyebrows, a silent question thrown at the man sitting in front of you. wonwwo just shook his head, his smile suddenly gone. he turned to you, eyebrows still raised. 
you sighed and followed him. your heels clicking on the floor while you followed him three steps behind. 
was the archive room always that far away?
"what do you need?" you asked, tone still bored, when the room came into view. 
seungcheol opened the door for you and followed you inside, locking the door behind him. 
when you turned to look at him you smiled at him, your arms crossed over your chest. he threw the folder he used to cover himself to the side and put his hands on his waist. you watched in complete amazement and laughed when you noticed the bulge in his pants. 
"awn, did you like the pictures that much?" your voice was taunting. 
seungcheol took three steps closer to you and pulled your hand, putting it over his cock. just that was almost enough to get a moan out of him. 
the second he saw the picture of you over him, his dick deep inside your pussy, it was all he could think about. having you again, as fast as possible was his only concern. 
"there are cameras in here," you said, your eyes wide while you looked around, lightly pulling your hand away from his grasp. 
"there isn't"  
at his words, you opened the zipper of his pants just enough to push your hands into his boxers. you wrapped your hand around his cock and ran your thumbs over his tip, pumping him a couple of times. you smiled when a quick shudder ran over him. 
seungcheol grabbed your face and pulled you to him, his lips crashing over yours. he pushed his tongue through your lips, taking control. his hands moved down to your neck, squeezing it softly. 
"my little menace," he said "what did you think was going to happen, hm?"
he pulled your skirt up until it was pooled around your waist and pushed you until your back was pressed against the wall.
"you wanted me to walk out of that room and fuck you, over your desk?"
you moaned at the thought, though in your ideal world, none of your coworkers would be around to witness it. seungcheol turned you around and forced your legs apart with his feet while holding one of your arms behind your back. you used your free hand to steady yourself on the wall. 
"if you don't ask, i'm not going to fuck you, baby" 
it was something seungcheol often relished on, the fact that he could make you beg. you were so quiet, so shy, but he always made you say it, implore for it. 
"you're the one with a hard on, sweetheart" you teased. if he thought that you were going to beg this time too, he was wrong "i can go back to work as if nothing happened"
you really couldn't. if you did it was going to be the worst work day for you because the only thing you could possibly think about was the fact that your boyfriend had a hard on because of you and you said no when he wanted to fuck you. 
seungcheol shoved your panties aside and pushed himself into you. he groaned as your walls sucked him in. you moaned at the feeling of being full, at being stretched out to fit him. he moved relentlessly, his pace almost cruel as he searched for his release. 
"jesus, cheol..." a loud moan left your lips as you were suddenly pressed on the wall. 
"you have to be quiet, baby" you could feel his smirk on your neck "everyone will hear you"
seungcheol snaked his arm around your waist, and his fingers worked your clit with the same drive as his hips moved. he was a madman and you loved every single piece of him. you covered your mouth with your hand, your eyes shut close, in a pathetic attempt to be quiet. even if your moans couldn't be heard, there was no way people wouldn't hear the sound of his hips on your yours. 
"you’re going to be filled with cum" he whispered, his free hand grabbing your neck, tilting your head back "running down your thighs the entire day"
seungcheol pinched your clit and it was enough to throw you over the edge. this time you were able to swallow your moan. you pressed your hands on the wall, trying to steady yourself, as your legs shook. seungcheol was quick to follow, your walls clenching around him like a vice as he pounded into you again and again. 
he used your shoulder to quiet his own moan and heavy breath.
"just so you know, this wasn't my intention," you said once you were able to breathe again.
seungcheol laughed and took a step back as he adjusted his shirt and pants.
"no?"
you rolled your eyes and leaned on the wall.
"maybe later, at your place" you gave in
he laughed and pulled your skirt down while you buttoned his shirt. 
"well, it's only noon"
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gubsbuubs · 3 months
Text
Friendly Cupid
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~ 5K
Warnings/Tags: Fluff, slow burn? smut, creampie.
Summary: Despite their closeness, Y/N and Spencer's relationship always stayed within the bounds of friendship. That's until a very fateful Valentine's Day, when a friend decided to play cupid.
A/N: Hi my loves! The "Friends to Lovers" trope won the poll, thanks to your votes. Any thoughts or suggestions for what's next? I hope you all enjoy it, and any and all comments are appreciated 🍒
My requests are open!
English is not my first language.
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The team basked in a mix of exhaustion and accomplishment as we settled into our seats on the jet, heading back home after successfully closing another case. The subtle hum of the engines seemed to echo the collective satisfaction that enveloped us.
We had just finished a case where the unsub targeted individuals with a deep passion for books. Each victim was chosen based on their preference for a particular literary work. The killer orchestrated scenarios inspired by famous novels, challenging us to decipher the connections between the crime scenes and the literary references.
From my seat across from his, at the meeting table in the Nevada police department's, I observed Spencer in awe. His deep concentration, the way his fingers danced over the pages, and the thoughtful furrow of his brow—he looked so handsome, absorbed in the task of perusing a pile of books that would have taken me at least two years to read.
I cherished watching Spencer at work; his intellect, passion, and dedication were captivating. There was an undeniable admiration that had grown within me as we spent countless hours in shared pursuit of justice.
I vividly recall the first time our connection became something more. After a grueling case left him drained, slowly succumbing to fatigue, his head found refuge on my shoulder during the flight back. It was an unexpectedly intimate encounter—his tousled hair brushing against my neck and the faint scent of lemon shampoo lingering close to my nose. Though innocent, the closeness left an indelible mark, and often I think about the weight of his head resting against me.
Fast forward to another sweet moment; it was forever engraved in my mind when I first noticed that he cared for me. Spencer and I were staked out in a park that an unsub used to frequent in Boston. The autumn winds whispered through the colorful foliage, and the chilling breeze made my arms shiver. It was getting cold, and I scolded myself for not bringing my jacket. Spencer, ever observant, noticed how I hugged myself for warmth and asked, "Hey, are you cold?"
"What? No, it's just a bit chilly, but I can take it," I chuckled, my teeth almost clacking against each other as I shivered.
"I can clearly see you're cold, Y/N."
"Okay, fine. I may be a little bit cold; we left in a hurry, and I forgot my jacket," I admitted.
Without hesitation, he took off his FBI jacket and handed it to me. "No, Spencer, I can't accept this. If it's cold for me, it will be cold for you too," I protested.
"Compared to men, women have less muscle, which is a natural heat producer. They also have 6 to 11 percent more body fat than men, which keeps the inner organs toasty but blocks the flow of blood carrying heat to the skin and extremities." He started to ramble while holding the jacket in front of me.
So I gave up, not wanting to hear him talk about this for the rest of the night, and accepted his offer. As the jacket touched my body, I could still feel his warmth, and the scent of his perfume enveloped me. His tall stature made the jacket too big for me, and I struggled with the oversized jacket's zipper. Looking down as I tried to zip it, I felt his hand on mine. "Hey, come here! Let me help you." I looked up to meet his beautiful brown eyes as he held his gaze on mine. His gentle hands zipped up the jacket. "There you go; now you'll feel warm," he added with a sweet smile.
We had a connection—an undeniable force drawing us together. For example, with Spencer and I, the casual "sorry, Y/n, passing through" was never just a phrase; it accompanied the gentle press of his hand on my side.
When shared laughter ensued, it almost always led to a playful nudge against my shoulder, a light and affectionate gesture.
And there were times when Spencer would reach out with a reassuring touch on my arm during tense discussions or a challenging moment. His fingertips, feather-light yet grounding, conveyed a silent reassurance that we were in this together.
I’d like to think that our connection extended beyond the realm of solving cases and catching serial killers, finding roots in those quiet spaces between words, because unspoken sentiments resonated louder than any conversation we had.
These simple and innocent touches left me curious, especially considering Spencer's general aversion to physical contact, often sidestepping handshakes. Each touch, though understated, carried a significance that lingered, prompting me to ponder the depths of our friendship.
Yet, somehow, we were never more than friends. Perhaps because of the lingering fear of disrupting the delicate balance we had, I hesitated to act upon the emotions that quietly blossomed within.
So, Spencer and I stayed comfortably within the boundaries of friendship, keeping the unexplored depths of our connection confined to the realm of what-ifs and maybes.
Rather than risking it all, I chose the simplicity of silent observation and opted for the quiet intimacy of just watching him while he worked. There was an unspoken fascination with witnessing Spencer's mind at play.
The breakthrough came when Spencer uncovered a pattern in the victims' book preferences, his face lighting up at the realization. The Unsub, it seemed, orchestrated his killings based on the ominous narratives found within these chosen novels. Each victim unwittingly acquired a literary prelude to their tragic end as the killer turned the pages of their lives into a haunting script of their own demise.
With this knowledge, we were able to predict the next target and swoop in just in time to prevent another tragedy. The final confrontation took place in an abandoned library, where the unsub attempted to stage his twisted interpretation of a tragic love story. With swift and coordinated action, we thwarted his plans and brought justice to the victims.
So, with the unsub's twisted plans foiled, we found solace in the fact that we had saved the couple from his dark intentions.
Amidst the chatter on the jet, the mood shifted to a more relaxed and celebratory tone. The weight of the case had dissipated, replaced by a comforting conversation and shared laughter.
"Hey, Prentiss, any hot plans for Valentine's Day? Morgan teased, giving Emily a mischievous grin.
"Valentine's Day? Seriously, Morgan? After all the chaos of this week, I just want a quiet night with a good bottle of wine," Emily responded, leaning further into her seat.
"Valentine's Day is this weekend, and I completely forgot! Will and I will have to just stay at home," JJ confessed, sounding a bit bummed.
"Well, Beth and I will be taking Jack to the cinema to watch a movie. Would you like us to also take Henry so you and Will can have a date?" Hotch offered.
"Oh, Hotch, that’s very sweet. If you don't mind, yes! We would really appreciate it," JJ replied gratefully.
"What about you, pretty boy? Got any plans?" Morgan playfully mussed up Spencer's hair.
"Well… I…” He cleared his throat. "I, um… I actually do have a date," Spencer stammered, his face immediately turning a bright shade of red.
"A date, Reid? Come on, spill the details. What's her name?" Morgan proceeded to probe.
“It's a blind date, so I'd rather not jinx it by talking about it.” Spencer spoke with a faint smile.
As I learned about Spencer's date, I couldn't help but laugh to myself at the sheer coincidence—both of us had blind dates on Valentine's Day. What were the odds?
Then it hit me, and as much as I tried to dismiss it, there was a subtle pang of envy that Spencer also had a date. I understood the irony of feeling jealous while I was also going on a blind date this weekend.
Earlier that week, my friend from the previous division I worked in—International Affairs and Counterterrorism—set me up with a guy. According to him, this guy was perfect for me—smart, kind, and seemingly attuned to my taste. So, I've decided to give it a shot and go on this date. It was Valentine's Day after all. So yes, I was also going on a date, and I acknowledged how contradictory it sounded to feel envious of Spencer's date. Nevertheless, a twinge of jealousy lingered.
Yet, in the grand scheme, I genuinely wished for Spencer to have a fantastic time this weekend. After all, we were nothing more than friends, and his happiness was something I truly valued.
Morgan, with a playful glint in his eye, turned his attention to me and chimed, "Alright, Reid's stepping into the world of romance, so what's the deal, Y/N? Any Valentine's plans on your agenda?"
"No, I don't really have plans. It'll be a normal weekend for me." I spoke with a smile, gently sidestepping Morgan's inquiry. I preferred to keep certain aspects of my life private, especially when it came to matters of the heart.
Saturday night came around pretty quickly.
I chose a simple red dress and black stilettos for the occasion—it was Valentine's Day, after all, and opportunities for dates were not a frequent occurrence for me. Since joining the FBI, I haven't had many opportunities to look like this. Typically reserved for pantsuits and white shirts, it was refreshing to see myself look so put-together.
What awaited me on this evening could be a mistake or, just maybe, the start of something unexpectedly wonderful. Despite the flutter of reservations in my stomach, I resolved to push through the uncertainty.
Before stepping inside, I paused at the entrance, reminding myself to take a deep breath; it was just a date after all—no need to be nervous. The restaurant, my absolute favorite, bore the name "Bella Luna," renowned for its delectable pastas. It had become my go-to spot for a delightful meal, offering a perfect blend of cozy ambiance and culinary excellence.
My friend, the mastermind behind this blind date, had given the gentleman a specific directive: reserve the table with a view of the river—my favorite spot in the house. This strategic move not only catered to my preferences but also had the practical benefit of simplifying the identification of my date.
As I stood by the entrance, lost in my thoughts, I almost jumped, caught by surprise, as someone bumped into me. "Hey, where were you goi..."
“Y/N! Hi!” His eyes were widening with surprise as he recognized me.
“Spencer! Hi! I didn't expect to see you here.”
“I could say the same thing. Didn’t you say you didn’t have plans?” He asked in an inquisitive tone.
"Yeah!" I laughed nervously, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "I, uh, decided to give in to the Valentine's Day spirit, I suppose." Spencer chuckled softly, his warm demeanor putting me at ease.
"How are you anyway, feeling good about your blind date?" I inquired, genuinely curious about his well-being.
"To be honest," he admitted, "I'm actually kind of nervous."
"What? Why?"
He hesitated before sharing, "What if she doesn't like me?"
"Why wouldn't she like you?" The words left my mouth so fast, a testament to my incomprehension of how someone could not like the guy standing before me.
"Because I'm weird. I slouch; my hair's too long; my tie's perpetually crooked." His words were almost a whisper, revealing a vulnerability I hadn't seen before.
I smiled softly, reaching  my hands to fix his crooked tie. "Here, your tie is now straight. And Spencer, you're not weird; you look really good tonight. I think you'll do very well."
He smiled softly, thanking me, and said, "Well, you do too! You look very beautiful tonight, Y/N.” My heart skipped a beat at the unexpected compliment. He blushed slightly before adding, “I should really get going. I don't want to be late for my date.”
“Go get him, tiger,” I encouraged with a smile as I stayed behind, watching him leave.
Fuck, he looked so good; his dark blue suit fit him in all the right places. Though not a radical departure from his usual attire, the effort put into his appearance fueled my jealousy. The realization that he was heading on a date with someone else lingered in my thoughts, intensifying the sting.
To make matters worse, we´re at the same restaurant, and I would have to endure the evening watching him, attempting to engage in my own date while inwardly yearning for his company.
The challenge would be to keep my eyes from straying towards him, wishing the girl by his side was me.
Shaking my head to dispel thoughts of Spencer, I took a deep breath before entering the restaurant. I traversed the restaurant, consciously keeping my head down until I arrived at the table with the view of the river, and it was only then that I allowed myself to look around.
To my surprise, when I looked at the table, I found Spencer sitting there.
Confusion clouded my mind as I stood there, staring at Spencer, seated at the table, facing away from me. Disbelief hung in the air like a heavy fog. This had to be a misunderstanding; it couldn't be Spencer. My friend John specifically directed the blind date; he arranged for me to sit at this table, but Spencer was here.
The possibilities raced through my mind like a whirlwind of uncertainty. Did the receptionist make an error? Could there be another table with a view of the river where they seated my actual blind date? Could this guy look a lot like Spencer from behind? My thoughts spiraled into a maze of questions, each more perplexing than the last. I was caught in a web of doubt, trying to grasp the reality of the situation.
Could Spencer and John know each other? How would they even know each other? Although we all work at the FBI, they work in totally different divisions.
As I approached the table, just a few feet away, I confirmed my suspicion: it was him—Spencer. Even though he wasn't facing me, I recognized his curls, almost catching a whiff of his distinctive perfume. It was undeniably him. How did this happen?
My heels clacked on the ground, a sound that drew Spencer's attention. His gaze shifted, expecting another woman, preparing for a polite greeting. "Hi, nice to meet y…” His words now caught in his throat.
As I pulled the chair and sat down in front of him, he halted his movements, confusion etched on his face. It seemed like he was ready to stand up, perhaps shake hands, and greet another person. But as he realized it was me, his expression transformed into one of utter bewilderment.
"Y/N, what is going on?" Spencer asked, his face a mix of confusion and concern as he settled back into his chair.
I leaned forward, my elbows resting on the table. "How do you know John Watters, Jonathan Watters?" I questioned, peering at him with an intense gaze.
"What? What do you mean, Y/N?" Spencer replied, clearly confused by the sudden turn of events.
"Spencer, how do you know John?" I repeated, my eyes locked onto his, seeking an explanation for the unexpected twist in our supposed blind date.
"John Watters and I play chess in the park. We met a couple of months ago, and now we play together regularly," Spencer explained, his confusion still evident in his expression. “Y/N, what is going on?” he added, his brow furrowing in concern.
“Spencer…” I began, a faint smile creeping onto my face as it reddened, my hands immediately meeting my face. It dawned on me; John had set us both up, and it seemed he might not have known Spencer and I already knew each other.
I could see the wheels turning in his head, his eyes widening. He seemed to have a eureka moment. "Do you know him?" he asked, his tone still a little unsure. I only nodded, my faint smile hidden behind my fingers, covering how embarrassed I was.
Then Spencer fired questions left and right. "What? How do you know John?” He set you up with me. Like… did you know? You wanted to have a date with me and asked him to do it? I mean, I have talked…." He was blushing like crazy, so I decided to interrupt.
"No, No... I mean, yes, but..." I stumbled on my words as I tried to answer. "I do know John, yes, but I didn't know he set us up... But yes, I wouldn't... I wouldn’t mind a date with you." The last part slipped my tongue way too quickly, the confession escaping my lips.
"Are you serious? A date with me?" He sounded excited but mostly surprised.
"I mean, we're already here, so we might as well do it. He clearly thought we were a good pair," I offered, keeping my head down. My face felt hot, and I was smiling like a stupid little kid.
“I can't believe this; I can't believe this is happening. You don't know how long I've been trying to gather the courage to ask you out, and now this is happening." His head fell back as he inhaled deeply. “Is this real? Can you pinch me, Y/N? You look so pretty, so beautiful. I can't believe this is actually happening. I must be dreaming." His excitement was palpable, and his gaze was fixed on me with a mix of joy and disbelief.
“You're definitely awake; this is real!” I reached out my hand to him and held his hand. “See, this is real—a very strange coincidence, but undeniably real.”
The evening unfolded gracefully. Spencer took my recommendation, and we ordered the Carbonara, complemented by a shared bottle of Cabernet. I couldn't help but savor the moments when our laughter harmonized, creating a melody of shared joy. A subtle warmth spread across our faces, not just from the ambiance but also from the wine. Our laughter became a touch more carefree, perhaps a little tipsy, adding an extra layer of delight to the evening. The restaurant seemed to fade into the background as we continued to enjoy each other’s company.
As the plates were cleared away and the restaurant emptied out, Spencer's gaze remained locked on mine. We sat in silence for a little bit as a warm feeling settled, enjoying the lingering aura of the evening. Spencer smiled softly, leaning closer to me and taking my hands in his. "Let me walk you home," he suggests. "It's a beautiful night, and I'd love to spend more time with you."
As we stepped out into the crisp night air, the city lights played on the surface of the river, casting a gentle glow on our path. Spencer and I began to stroll along the riverbank towards my apartment. The soft murmur of the water provided a soothing background to our conversation, and amidst our banter, our attention was drawn to an old lady with a basket of roses.
"Hello there," the old lady said, greeting Spencer with a twinkle in her eye. "Would you like to buy a rose for your beautiful girlfriend?"
"Oh, but I'm not his girlf..." Before I could clarify, Spencer, wearing a confident smile, chimed in, "Yet..." He told the sweet lady "So yes, I would love to buy her a rose." He turned to me with a playful glint in his eyes.
The old lady chuckled warmly. "Here you go, young man, a rose for your not-yet-girlfriend. May your love bloom as beautifully as this rose," she said, handing the vibrant flower to Spencer.
I thanked him as he handed me the rose, appreciating the beautiful gesture. We then continued our walk, the soft glow of the city lights guiding our way.
"So, a rose for the 'not-yet-girlfriend'," I teased, a playful smile on my lips.
"Well," he began, "I thought a rose might be a good start, but who's to say what the future holds?"
"Fair enough," I replied, a teasing glint in my eye. "A rose is a good start but what's your plan for the rest of our 'not-yet' journey?"
"Well, I've had a lot of time to think about this," he began, a sly grin playing on his lips. "I won't disappoint you, that's for sure."
I felt a subtle warmth spread—a mixture of curiosity and excitement. "Is that so?" I replied with a playful glint in my eye. "I guess I'll have to wait and see what surprises you have in store.”
As we continued our walk to my apartment and reached my doorstep, the night seemed to invite us to linger a little longer.
"I had a lot of fun, Y/N. I regretted every moment we weren't doing this sooner," Spencer confessed.
"I loved this night too, Spencer," I began, a genuine warmth in my voice. "This is not how I imagined my night ending at all; I definitely never expected you to be my blind date."
"I just can't believe this happened. Who would have thought you would go on a date with me?" His soft hand reached for mine; his touch was warm and inviting.
"Well, Jonathan apparently did," I laughed, the surreal nature of the evening sinking in.
"Of course, he thinks I want to date you. I talk about you all the time..." Spencer shyly admitted, his gaze avoiding mine.
"Wait! You talk about me?" My voice lifted with happiness.
"Well, I just tell him about my day... and how I love being by your side. You're so understanding, always listening to me. Your attentive gaze makes my heart skip a beat, and your eyes, Y/N, they sparkle so beautifully. And your smile—oh, it's the prettiest I've ever seen." His words were tender, and his brown eyes never left mine. "Jonathan never told me he knew you; I guess he sensed I was too scared to act upon my feelings and took matters in to his own hands." He chuckled. "And now you're here, and we went on this date—a wonderful date, may I add—and you look absolutely stunning."
As Spencer's words lingered in the quiet night, I felt a soft warmth enveloping us and an unspoken connection deepening.
"I would really to kiss you." He whisperd. His gaze held a mixture of anticipation and vulnerability, mirroring the sentiments that resonated within me.
"You know what, Spence?" I began, a gentle smile playing on my lips. "I'd really like that too."
His eyes brightened with joy, and as if a shared understanding passed between us, he leaned in slowly. His hands cradled my face, creating an intimate connection as he closed the remaining space between us. The world around us faded into a soft blur as our lips finally met.
The kiss was tender, his lips warm and inviting, and the sensation sent a pleasant shiver down my spine.
As we pulled away, a shared smile painted across our faces, our foreheads pressed together in a moment of quiet closeness.
"Wow," Spencer whispered.
"Wow indeed," I replied, my heart echoing the sentiment.
"I've been waiting so long to do this," he said, kissing me again, this time with more force and desire.
The kiss deepened, his lips pressing against mine with a newfound intensity, fueled by the longing we had both harbored for so long. It was a fusion of heat and tenderness, with each movement deliberate and purposeful.
His hands, which had cradled my face so gently before, now moved with a purpose, exploring the contours of my back and waist. The taste of him was intoxicating—a blend of warmth and desire that left me breathless.
"Spencer," I began, feeling our breaths mingle. "Would you like to come in?
Spencer's eyes darkened in response, his nod signaling his agreement.
As the door shut behind us, I carefully placed the rose he gave me on a small side table by the entrance, wanting to preserve the sweet gesture. Spencer, without saying a word, pulled me against him again.
I guided us through the familiar space of my home with an urgency that spoke of unspoken desires. As we reached the bedroom, our bodies entwined again.
I laid back on the bed, letting my body sink into the softness of the mattress. Spencer's body was right above mine, and our lips met in a hot, messy kiss. It was like everything else melted away, and all that was left was us in this moment. I could feel the heat of his body on top of mine, and the rush of intimacy was palpable. I wanted this moment to last forever, clinging tight to his every touch.
Spencer's hands glided along the curves of my body, caressing me with an intimacy that left me wanting more. His lips left mine to roam lower, descending slowly towards my breasts. A shiver of anticipation ran down my spine, and my breath caught in my chest.
Spencer's voice broke through the intensity. "Are you sure?"
A smile played on my lips as I whispered, "Yes, please Spence."
The sudden touch of his finger on my skin sent a shiver down my spine as his hand slowly drifted down my shoulder and pulled the strap of my dress down. As my nipple became exposed, he kissed it gently, sending a wave of arousal through my body.
He looked so pretty like this; his smooth hand cradled my breast as his lips left soft kisses. His slow hums of satisfaction were accompanied by the thrusts of his hips against my clothed core.
Sensing the escalating desire between us, Spencer then took the initiative, smoothly pulling my dress off. I felt exposed as his hands traveled down my body, lowering himself and planting soft kisses on my stomach.
"You look so beautiful and you smell so good." His whispers of admiration filled the air. "I bet you taste even better." He placed a soft kiss where I wanted him the most. I moaned at his words, not expecting them.
He then proceeded to slide my panties to the side, slowly licking a long stripe. The warmth of his tongue against my skin sent shivers through my body, and the anticipation built with every teasing touch.
“Fuck, it's even better than I imagined." His words were muffled as he spoke from between my legs, looking into my eyes. My moans filled the room, joined by the sound of his mouth devouring my wetness. My hands met his hair as I pulled him closer by his curls.
"Spencer..." My voice caught in my throat.
"What, baby?" The enduring name leaving his lips made my heart flutter.
"I need you," I pleaded.
"Need me to what, baby?" His middle finger breached my entrance. "Use your words," he said, caressing my opening. The sensation of his finger chills of pleasure down my spine. The anticipation was almost too much to bear, and I could feel a rush of arousal building inside me. "I need you inside, please," I begged, moving my body against his.
Sensing my urge, he stood, undressing me and then himself. "Since you asked so nicely," he lined up and slowly sank in, his head resting on my shoulder, and his soft moan muffled on my neck.
Our kisses were slow and passionate, our lips brushing against each other with every movement of our bodies. His hands caressed my body, sending a wave of pleasure through me that only increased with every thrust.
Each rhythmic movement brought us closer to the edge, the intensity growing with each caress and whispered word. "You feel so good, Y/N; it’s like you were made for me." Spencer's voice was laden with desire as I moaned into his lips.
The intensity grew with each passionate thrust, and we were both lost in a world of pleasure. Our bodies were tightly intertwined, pressed up against each other as we let our emotions take over. Our moans filled the room, and our breathing became shallow and fast. We both wanted this moment to last forever, clinging to each other with all the strength we could muster.
"Spencer, I can't,” I cried out.
"Can you hold it for me, just a little, pretty girl?" he said, looking into my eyes. My eyes fluttered, closing at the words.
"No, no, no, keep your eyes on me," he said. "Yes, just like that." He kept thrusting with force, and I couldn't take it anymore. “I want to see your pretty face as you cum, baby.”
"Spence... please inside." I begged him, and that was all it took. I didn't have to wait any longer. The tension in the room reached its peak, and I could feel him release, his climax echoing mine.
Our bodies trembled together in the aftermath, the shared intensity of the moment lingering in the air. The room was filled with the sounds of our rapid breaths and the soft rustle of sheets as we came down from the euphoric high.
As we lay there, a playful smile crossed Spencer's lips. "So, about that 'not-yet-girlfriend' situation..." he teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
I chuckled, tracing circles on his chest. "Well, it looks like we just fast-tracked that process."
Spencer grinned. "Guess we skipped a few steps."
I gave him a playful look. "Steps? Who needs steps when you have Jonathan playing cupid?”.
Spencer gave a playful shrug. "Well, I'll be sure to thank the man.”
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viviennevermillion · 8 months
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When they want attention
✧ ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ: spontaneous idea. gonna get to my request once i'm done with the 7k words jing yuan commission i received so look forward to that, the jing yuan stans are getting fed. dan heng has his dragon form in this one.
✧ ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: still into you — paramore
✧ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ: blade, dan heng, sampo, yaoshi
✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: none
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The former Xianzhou craftsman was mysterious in many different ways but one thing you knew for sure was that he was way too scarred and emotionally stunted to just go ahead and ask you for your attention and love. He does sometimes but it's only on days when he's been doing particularly bad and his mara-struck self has been coming through more and he feels like your touch is the only thing keeping him grounded. He'd sneak up to you and quietly ask whether you'd mind to just hold him for a while. You never mind. But on regular days?
When Blade is just touch-starved and wants attention, he doesn't even initiate it. The only reason you notice is because he doesn't leave your side even though you're busy and working. He just keeps sitting close to you and staring at you from the side as if he wants something but when you ask him if he needs anything, he shakes his head and says it's important that you focus on your work.
It takes you a while to realize what's up with him. But when you eventually put your work aside for a moment to open your arms to him, he melts into your embrace and you can hear him let out a relieved sigh once he feels your warmth and gentle touch.
Sometimes you dare tease him about it. "Seems you just wanted my love. You know you can have that whenever you want, right?", you chuckle and kiss his temple. Blade chooses not to comment on it and to just keep enjoying your affection.
Kafka can also always tell when he's needy for attention and feels free to inform you when that's the case. She'll stand in the door to your room and gently knocks on the door frame. You look up to her with a questioning look. "Your boyfriend is cranky again. Do something about it", she says with a slight smile on her face. Blade readily accepts your affection when you seek him out after that, melting into your kiss and smiling against your lips. Just don't tell him Kafka sent you.
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Honestly Dan Heng's sudden transformation was a lot to get used to for everyone on the Astral Express but you in particular now had to deal with his dragon instincts when he wanted your affection. Usually he suppresses them but when he's tired he doesn't always stop himself from getting a little clingy.
You had to admit that this new side to him was quite amusing. Sometimes you'd be working until late at night and Dan Heng would just gently bonk you with his head from the side to get your affection.
Oftentimes he'd wrap his arms around you from behind and nuzzles your neck for a while. Usually when he's very, very sleep-deprived. You'll feel his breath on your neck and his lips leaving quick pecks on your skin repeatedly. Sometimes you'll lightly feel his tongue against your neck too when he kisses you there. He has his face buried in your neck now and it doesn't look like he's leaving anytime soon.
He purrs now. The first time you hear this your eyes widen and you slow-blink for a bit, having to do a double take that you're not imagining this. You don't even dare point it out to him. Not when he's being this cute. So you just accept it and kiss his lips first before pressing them to each of his horns, resulting in Dan Heng trying to snuggle even closer. You suppress a chuckle and start gently caressing the tail he apparently slapped into your lap for you to play with.
He apologizes later for getting a little too clingy there but he smiles when you shake your head and reassure him you quite enjoyed him being this affectionate. He might do this more often now, seeing how much it makes you swoon and how happy it seems to make you.
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Unlike Dan Heng and Blade, Sampo shamelessly asks for your attention everytime he craves it. He's very overdramatic about it too. He wraps his arms around your shoulders from behind while you're working and kisses your cheek repeatedly to ease you into the idea of leaving your work just standing around and tending to your touch-starved boyfriend. "Honey...", he coos and kisses the spot below your ear repeatedly, "you see, Sampo Koski has had a very rough day. First I had to run from the Silvermane Guards again, then my bag broke and all my relics fell into the dirt and then it started to rain and a client threw a fish at me and told me to die." You roll your eyes, your eyes falling on his bag, standing perfectly fine in the corner of the room.
"What I really mean to say is I could really use some love right now", he looks down with an obviously fake sad expression and wipes a non-existent tear from the corner of his eye, "my heart is broken and I'm not sure it will ever recover."
If you indulge him, he'll happily take up all the space in your arms and just lets you pamper him for a while. If you push him away and insist that you need to focus here, he starts kicking the sob story up a notch. "Pretty please", he whines and takes your hands into his, "you see, as a child my parents never told me they loved me-" "Ugh, Sampo", you let out a frustrated sigh. If you look into his eyes and tell him in all seriousness that you'd really like to finish your work first, he concedes but usually you're too amused with him to not at least give in a little.
"Okay fine, you get 10 minutes but then I really need to continue my work", you open your arms for him and 10 minutes quickly turn into 20 or 30. You muse that you can still do your work tomorrow.
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If you're not a clingy person, I advise you to not indulge Yaoshi and reciprocate their feelings because while they respect the things you care about and are passionate about and would never want to make you angry at them, they're very high-maintenance when it comes to receiving affection. Yaoshi always backs off when you tell them to but internally they also want affection constantly.
If you thought Sampo was overly clingy, Yaoshi is a whole new brand of desperate. I mean, they could have shaken our hand or patted us on the head upon meeting us, but no, they chose to go straight for the lips and this is a pattern that carries through even after getting together with you.
Yaoshi won't just ask if you have some time to spare for them, Yaoshi will straight up plant themselves onto your lap and attempt to make out with you. Sometimes they're successful, sometimes they aren't.
In general the fact that there is a time and place for passionate kissing is something that Yaoshi needs to learn. You'll be in public and they'll try this and you tell them that you can do this later. Yaoshi waits until you're in a different public location and then asks again whether this is now a suitable place to kiss you. Don't even give them one kiss in public. Don't give them an inch, they'll attempt to take a mile. They listen when you tell them this isn't the time or place for kisses but if you give them a quick peck to the lips, in their mind, which is very much not adjusted to societal norms, this means "okay so now is the time for kisses" so they'll try to give you more kisses.
When you tell them you have work to do, Yaoshi asks you when they can expect you to be done with your work. "About 2-3 hours", you tell them and pat their head gently. Yaoshi nods and disappears. A couple of minutes later you can smell something burnt from the other room. "Yaoshi?", you call out worried, checking up on them.
You find them holding your burning alarm clock in both of their hands. "My dearest, I was trying to 'set an alarm' as you always do", they have a sad expression on their face and a tear runs down their cheek, "it seems I have accidentally vanquished your strange little nightingale. I hope you can forgive me one day."
"What were you even trying to set an alarm for?" Yaoshi looks up at you. "You said you'd be done in 2-3 hours."
You let out a sigh and caress their cheek gently. "We can buy a new one and I'll show you how to use it", you shake your head, wondering what you expected from dating a literal god who usually spends their time on a different plane of existence, "but we should probably get rid of this one."
Yaoshi obliges and the alarm clock is gone in an instant. "It is in a better place now", they explain. You decide you don't have the mental energy right now for the discussion that would result from asking what exactly 'a better place' is. For now you let Yaoshi sit or lay down on your lap while you do the rest of your work, your fingertips gently drawing circles onto their shoulders.
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solaireverie · 6 months
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cl16 | are we out of the woods yet?
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summary: [ charles leclerc x f!driver!reader — social media au / fic ] after you get into a rough crash, charles is faced with difficult decisions
request: can i get a female driver reader injury/crash angst with daniel, seb or charles pls love your fics!
warnings: crashes and injuries, general medical stuff, unspecified mentions of death (implied to be jules and hervé), open/unclear ending
author’s note: hihi lovely!! tysm for requesting <3 hope this is enough angst for you ;) also i have no clue how to write injuries soooooo just roll with it
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5,891 likes
ynupdates y/n has been taken to the medical center following her crash in the #brazilgp. no further news has been released yet. we're all behind you, y/n! 🤞
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user did anyone see if she was able to get out of the car by herself?
↪ user no, i think she had to be extracted by the medical crew 😬
user i hope she's okay...
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Charles' phone is halfway out of his pocket when it starts ringing. Glancing at the screen, he swipes to accept the call when he sees that it's from your mother. He had called her a few minutes ago, when the sight of your crash had first appeared on the screens in the Ferrari paddock, but she hadn’t picked up. Her voice filters through the speakers of his phone, worry tinging her tone. 
“Do you have news yet?” she asks.
“Don’t know,” Charles replies, “I’m on my way to see her now. It… might be good to book a flight — and soon.” He doesn’t want to alarm your mom but it seems inevitable and he knows that you would want her next to you. 
“Okay,” she breathes shakily, “and Charles?”
“Yeah?”
“She better be okay when I get there.”
Charles winces. Of all the people in the world, he knows all too well why you can never make any promises, especially in Formula 1. 
“I’ll do my best,” he says and ends the call.
There’s a marshal waiting for him in the tiny waiting area in the medical center. He’s pacing nervously and immediately strides towards Charles as soon as he sees him. 
“Mr. Leclerc,” he begins, “the doctors wanted to see you before they take any further action. You have medical power of attorney for Ms. L/N in case of emergency, correct?” 
Charles nods numbly. It had been a precaution at the time because you had insisted that out of everyone in the paddock, you trusted him the most. He had accepted it without thinking twice but now the weight of the responsibility settles heavily over his shoulders. He follows the marshal past empty treatment rooms until they reach one with its door thrown open. 
Charles feels his lunch crawling back up his throat as he stares at your figure. You’re laid out on a stretcher and you’d almost look peaceful if not for the numerous medical apparatuses connected to you and the thin trickle of dried blood on your temple. He somehow finds his voice again.
“What happened?” he asks, almost afraid to hear the answer.
A paramedic steps forward. “Ms. L/N took quite a knock in her crash, I’m afraid,” she explains gently. “Something came loose in the cockpit and hit her head. We’re not sure if there’s any further internal injuries, but our professional opinion is that she should be moved as soon as possible to a hospital for further testing.”
Charles swallows around a lump in his throat. “Is there any particular risk with transporting her in this state?” 
The paramedic shakes her head. “No more than the usual, which is relatively low compared to the risk that we run by keeping her here without knowing if there’s anything else wrong.” 
Charles follows your ambulance all the way into the hospital in a haze. He barely registers the press grouped outside the entrance, pushing through them, always keeping you in his sights. He waits outside of the examination room they bring you into and follows as they wheel you around, receiving god knows how many tests. 
After a while members of your team start showing up, although they keep a respectful distance from Charles. He’s glad. He knows, rationally, that you were just unlucky, but the irrational and protective side of him is screaming at him to place the blame at someone’s feet. He knows you wouldn’t appreciate him blowing up at your team, though, so he doesn’t say anything to them and keeps vigil by your side as the doctors poke and prod.
Eventually you’re carefully placed in a hospital bed and Charles is pulled aside by what seems to be the main doctor assigned to you.
“Unfortunately, it seems as if we will have to operate on Ms. L/N,” he says gently. “Someone else will go over the details with you, but long story short she’s bleeding internally and it’s imperative that we get to it as soon as possible. Of course, any operation of this size could potentially be dangerous, but I strongly recommend taking action sooner rather than later.”
Charles shakes his head, the words not yet registering in his scattered mind. “Is she going to be okay?” he mumbles, not meeting the doctor’s eyes.
He can feel the doctor’s pitying gaze on him and Charles doesn’t have it in him to tell him that he’s been here before — not this specific hospital, no, but he’s been on this side of the conversation that they’re having already, and it tears his heart up just as much as the first time. The only difference this time is that he’s the one who has to make the choice, not anyone else.
“We can’t make any guarantees,” the doctor cautions, “but it would significantly raise her chances of survival if we act now.”
Charles winces at the doctor’s words. Survival. Drive to survive, surviving to drive, the irony of the situation isn’t lost on him. He uncurls his fingers gingerly from where he had been unconsciously gripping his pants. 
He wants to avoid the decisions he knows he will have to make in the next twenty-four hours. He wants to pretend that nothing happened, that you’re still on the track, passing everyone in your way. He wants to go back to this morning, when he had kissed you goodbye before jogging off to get ready for the race. He wishes he had taken time to do more than peck you and throw a “love you!” over his shoulder. Charles wants to hide from the cold, stark reality he’s faced with. Your life lies in his hands and Charles is so, so tired of bleak hospital hallways.
He wants to scream at the heavens. He’s suffered and given so much already. Is one shred of happiness too much to ask? Charles had known the risks going in when he started dating you — one Formula 1 driver was usually more than enough jeopardy in a relationship, let alone two — but he’d never really thought that the day would arrive where he would have to make decisions about you, without you. 
Charles stares at your face through the window to your room, tracing the curves and slopes with his eyes. It’s the face he wakes up next to almost every day and he curses himself for not cherishing the time he’s already had with you more. His brain is moving a mile a minute, running through all the possible outcomes. At the end of the day, though, he’s only got one choice.
Charles Leclerc has always been selfish and he’ll be damned if he lets another person he loves slip through his fingers.
“Where do I sign?”
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likes and reblogs are appreciated!
masterlist | taglist: @boiohboii @vellicora
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coeurify · 5 months
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ok but what do you think about making a sex tape with ellie 🧍‍♀️
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an: this has been reworked over and over since this request came in in march… so enjoy! its very lovey dovey and sm plot sorry :3
warnings: 18+. filming. jackson!ellie. fingering and oral!r receiving. mostly lovey but some teasing and rough language :3 ellie is obsessed and lovesick and so is reader soooo they make a sex tape. unedited gimme time.
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When Ellie first brought up the idea, you had recoiled into her old beat up couch, scoffing as she waved the old camcorder around, a shiteating grin on her face.
“I doubt that thing even works El,” you shrugged your shoulders under the blanket you had stolen off her bed. It wasn't unusual for you to hole up in her small homey garage while she was on patrol.. but what *was* odd was her little.. Souvenir from this particular trip.
“C’mon babe,” Ellie pouted, “Let me try on you..” she wiggled the little camcorder, slipping her hand into the attached grip, flipping open the small screen. Despite your complaints that there was no way it worked, Ellie just could never be wrong. Of course she knew you would fight back, and so she had made sure she fished some batteries too. Of course they came from Maria, the cost three days of stable duty.. But it was worth it for the immune woman, who ducked her nose down and watched the screen flicker to a slow start.
The quality was no better than that of what you could expect from a decades old camera, the film grainy and muffled, each corner covered by symbols Ellie didn’t really understand. But it was no roadblock in the trek of her wants. She smiled when your hands immediately came to slap over your face, voice serious behind your palms as you spoke, “put that down.”
Eventually however, you got a little used to Ellie’s newest fixation. The little hums she made were always a dead give away that she was filming you. During a video game tournament against Dina and Jesse, squished so closely to the two on the floor of the garage that you literally bruised the taller man during a particularly aggressive round of a fighting game. When you were trying your best to compete against your girlfriend’s art skills, tongue poking out the corner of your lips as you worked on a very detailed stick figure that dawned pointed down eyebrows, a large frown and red pencil hair. Even just when you were organizing Ellie’s closet for her, sorting through the tens of sweatshirts with a judging pout on your lips at the mess.
Each time you heard the distinctive sound of El’s attempt at holding back laughs, a small little choked up ‘hmm’ sound. You usually turned your head, quick to flip off your girlfriend-turned-filmmaker. But by the fifth time of catching her smiling behind the little object, you just let her. Whenever you could see her a little less tense, you took it.
Even if that meant starring in all of her little five second shitty clips. Her excuse always, “Just something to look at when I miss you.”
In some ways it made you feel weak legged, slightly lovesick by the thought of Ellie loving you so dearly she just had to steal little memories of you. Every small grin that broke onto freckled cheeks wherever she filmed coaxed you into the haze built up by her new hobby. You became so covered in adoration soon that you resorted to tiny only half mad eye roll when the click of the camera sounded.
Small clips turned into Ellie’s free hand wrapping around your bare waist as you looked in the mirror of her bathroom, the camcorder pressed near your cheek, the auburnette on the other side. You wiped the condensation from the glass, the room still slightly foggy from your shower. “You are not filming me out of the shower,” you huffed. Ellie didn’t answer, the familiar sounding hum stopped only when she pressed a kiss to the base of your neck, lips pulling up into a smile against the skin. “Won’t point too low..” she promised. “You just look so pretty..”
That time, the camera had been closed and discarded on a random bedside table as the two of you stumbled across her floor, giggling as Ellie cursed, stubbing her toe on the corner of the bed she tried to press you down into.
It continued like that, the limits of what you allowed Ellie to film seemed to blur further with every day.. Every curl of her fingers around the object that had become so central to this small haven of her home. Your own neck hot for reasons very different from embarrassment each time the filming light blinked a little too long. The line that you and Ellie had drawn in the sand of your mind was looking a lot less precise with every new memory saved into the device.
Even further along into the passing weeks, you had settled comfortably into yet another night spent at Ellie’s. Your own bedroom had remained untouched for nearly a week this time, bed spread likely just as cold as the air outside. But the garage was warm. The air inside thick as you pressed two fingers against your lips to keep a laugh from spilling out. Glasses of half empty wine, stolen from Tommy and Maria’s cupboard, balanced on the table that sat directly in front of the couch you were cuddled into.
The feeling of wine drunkenness always made you giggly, but your girlfriend parading around her small living space with her camcorder, well, that made you even more prone to bursts of laughs. She had gone from filming and rambling on about what wine you were drinking to zooming into your face, chuckling with breath that smelt like red wine. “See how pretty?” Ellie gaped to no one, stepping closer to you on the couch. The whole garage was painted a light orange from the setting sun outside, but it didn’t stop Ellie.
“El, you’re being a dork,” you chide, shaking your head as more compliments spilt from her. She shoos off the bitten remark with a sound that boarders on a coo, leaning over you as the lens of the camcorder sat close enough to pick up the smaller details of your face the grainy film usually could not.
“I’m just showin’ how perfect you are..” Ellie explains, a softer tone edging into her lungs as she presses her thumb to your cheek, drawing a new heat under the digit. “Perfect cheeks…” her finger traces over your jawline next, and then your chin. Each new landmark of your face that Ellie doted on swept closer and closer to your soft lips. You were no idiot, you saw how the green of her eyes fell to the fat, watched as you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth and then out again. You made no move to stop what came next.
That next move was your girlfriend’s finger following like a moth to a flame to the one spot that teetered on that blurry line again, thumb pressing softly around the curve of your lips.
“Perfect lips,” Ellie continued, eyes flicking back and forth from the camera screen to you. Soon the pad of her finger is right against your bottom lip, and the room seems to slow.
The both of you hold bated breaths as you mull over your options. But this mulling is no longer than a few seconds, feeling overwriting the more logical side of your brain with a gushy type of tightness in your chest.
Your lips part, eyes meeting the lense as you suck the tip of Ellie’s thumb into your mouth. Lips wrap around the soft skin, salty and cold, and Ellie has little to say other than a slow and breathy, “Fuck..”
Your tongue peaks out just for a moment, lavishing over the wet skin, but Ellie is quick to pull away, leaving your shining lips parted in confusion. The camera falls to her side as her free fingers wrap around your wrist. Just like last time, the little red light twists away from your face. Ellie’s toes step backwards from that oh so mysterious line you two made.
“You know what you do to me, hm?” Ellie questioned as she hauled you up by your arm, a sharp giggle following as she stomped to the bed. The camera is discarded on the table near her pillows as you are thrown back on it.
“No,” you tease, your next giggle cut off by a thump noise that was Ellie pushing you back against grey sheets, you make a sound that almost sounds like “oof” as you try to readjust. Ellie clambers on top of your squirming frame as another sputtered laugh escapes at the messy, and not very seductive, way you two found contact against the creaking mattress.
“Tell me,” you prompt, meeting Ellie’s narrowed green eyes. “Why should I? You’re laughin’ at me.”
Your eyes roll as Ellie’s lips fall into a pout that you want to kiss clean off. “Stop being a baby,” you mutter before letting your impulse win, your hands cupping the freckles cheeks of your girlfriend and pulling her down for a soft kiss. Her pouted lips quickly shape to your own, and you sigh in approval as the hand not holding herself up traces down to your waist.
“I’m not a baby,” your girlfriend complains when your lips part from each other, and you nearly pinch her cheeks from just how lovely you find the whiny drawl in her voice, instead you just shrug, biting back another half bubbled up laugh, “mhm, prove it.”
Ellie does just that. One tug on your hips has you flatter against the bed, one poke at your side has a squeal leaving your mouth. You see how Ellie’s lips quirk up, but before you can admire the sight, she kisses you again.
“So,” Ellie punctuates the word with a kiss, the sort that makes a loud and annoying smacking noise, before trailing her lips to your cheek. “Fuckin” Ellie’s lips find home on your jawline next, and act that has a simmering heat grow between your legs. “Perfect.” Ellie finishes the repeat of what her fingers had done earlier by nudging your head back, lips pressing softer kisses to the flesh of your neck.
Your eyes flicked to the side table, pupils finding the little camcorder as the auburn haired girl bit at your neck, your attention pulled away as your eyes flutter closed at the feeling. “El,” you breathe out, a hand finding her messy hair, nails scraping at her scalp as she bit harsher at the column of your throat. You aren’t sure why her name had been your first thought to say after seeing the camcorder, swallowing as your fingers itched to reach toward the side table.
“Hm? Tell me,” Ellie taunts, words muffled as her next target becomes your collarbone. Your own words biting at you again as your eyebrows furrowed together, watching as your girlfriend’s fingertips find the edge of your shirt, pushing it up as your hand falls from her hair to help take it off.
You pull her back for another kiss before you can even think to answer her question, one you weren’t even sure you could explain. Ellie’s needy fingers come into contact with the fat of your tits, tweaking at the perked nipples, nails pressing in just a little too hard, earning a mewl directly against the spit slick kiss. As Ellie kissed you, you tried your best to focus on the feeling, and not how you were acutely aware of the camera beside you.
Her tongue swiped at your bottom lip, warm against your parting lips as she searched to deepen the kiss, messy sounds of half breaths and kissing all sounded through the small area, your hips rolling up as her knee slotted itself between your trembling thighs.
You can’t help but wonder what this may look like on camera, and as Ellie pulls back, you notice the green of her eyes had dimmed, pupils blown as the pretty eyelashes fanned lightly. The freckles splattered over the apples of her cheeks were particularly prominent tonight, and you suspected it had something to do with the blood that rushed there, rosy and all around causing that same lovesick feeling to creep up your weakened bones.
You wonder if she would look as pretty on that grainy screen too.
Before your mind can even form another thought, Ellie is pulling away from your lips, a small whine the response she received. You can’t complain for long as she moves down, wet lips trailing sloppy kisses to your soft stomach, planting the ember of a growing fire in your groin, causing your hand to flex. Your eyes are pulled by an invisible string to the side of you again, the black material of the camcorder your gaze’s target. Ellie grumbles in response, and a small pinch on your hip has you yelping.
“What’re you looking at? Look at me.”
“Ellie,” you try again, lip quivering nervously as she ushers you to lift your hips, tugging off the bottoms you wore. “Fuckkkk,” she drawls, lost in her own little world as a large hand presses your thighs open. “You see that?” she marvels, a finger pressing against the wet spot on your panties. When she presses, you can feel the fabric stick to you, nearing translucent as she teases, your lips hugging the now soaked panties. It has your hips stirring in their spot, the flame in your stomach burning your liquid feeling stomach. “Ellie,” you sigh again.
Finally her gaze looks up, “Yea?” she asks, her voice softening. You can see the flash of confusion, her hand falling from your thigh as she searched for any apprehension. “You ok?”
“I can’t—“ your voice comes out whinier than you would like to admit, harsh against your ears with a feeling of embarrassment. “Can’t say it,” you finish, eyes moving to the camera sitting on the small wooden table beside you for the umpteenth time.
Ellie follows your eyes, and when you look back to her, there’s a flash of surprise in the shade of green you loved so much. It was replaced quickly, her eyelids drooping as her chin tilted up. “Hm. Don’t know what you mean,” she shrugs, fingers going back to teasing your panty line.
Her tone is laced with sarcasm, the teasing tilt to it is a voice you had heard many times before, many times in this exact position. Ellie liked to make you say things, liked to watch you squirm. You were convinced at this point she got off on your embarrassment, and she probably wouldn’t even deny that.
“Gonna have to spell it out for me, babe,” Ellie added, dipping down to place soft kisses at your hip-bone, pink muscle licking over a mark there.
A low and annoyed sound escapes your throat, and your girlfriend chuckles against your flesh, one finger curling around the fabric of your panties, tugging it down a little ungracefully, your shaking thighs to thank for that.
“Barely even touched you yet and you’re shakin,” Ellie teases again, whispering softly, “Such a pretty pussy..” as the sight of your weepy folds meet her eyes. “This all for me, baby? Or somethin’ else on your mind?”
Your eyes squeeze shut again, hoping to rid your mind of the film reel like thoughts of the camera pressed in Ellie’s hand as she did this. They played over and over behind the black of your eyes, and another frustrated sound fills the garage.
“Not gonna answer?” Ellie was quieter now, repositioning herself, parting your thighs even more. A finger ghosted over your dripping cunt, a hum following the action. “Can’t make you feel better if you don’t use your words, y’know?”
The warm air hit your folds as Ellie exposed you more, thighs burning from the stretch, from the tight grip of one of her hands, fingers digging into and squeezing the fatty flesh.
The blanket beneath your bare ass is no comfort as you move around, and Ellie’s nose bumps against the softness of your thigh. So close, so fucking close to giving exactly what you were searching for, so close to your aching center that your resolve cracks lightly, head tilted back and against the pillow.
“The camera,” you croak, your mouth dry as your lips part, refusing to look at the other girl.
“What about the camera? Look at me and tell me what you want.”
The crease between your eyebrows likely was gaining small droplets of sweat just from how hard you were attempting to avoid this entire fucking conversation, but Ellie kept pressing you further, and who were you to deny her?
“Wanna film this,” you eventually admit, head dipping down to meet her darkened eyes.
“Yea baby? Wanna see what a mess I can make you?” Ellie’s words start to blur together, the idea surely muddling any coherent thoughts together in her mind, licking her lips as she awaits your response.
“Fuck— mmph, yes El. Please.*”
Ellie’s lips curl into a smile that’s more wicked than loving, “Red button starts it, you can hold it.” She instructed, and you scramble to reach your arm out, grasping at the little hand strap connected to the camcorder.
“There you go babe,” she nods, “give it a go, let me see what you’ve got.”
Your fingers are shaking so badly it takes a moment for your thumb to hit the button, to see the soft little red light noting the start of the film.
The grainy screen doesn’t pick up on all the freckles adorning Ellie’s face. The ones that made you feel all gooey, that you wanted to kiss until her face was a pretty shade of red. But it did capture her parted lips, the expanse of your thighs, and your shaky grip tilted the camera down as Ellie’s head dipped between your thighs.
Her mouth latched to your achy cunt, tongue licking up the drops of arousal that covered your slit, pearling on the petal like lips that she spreads with her fingers.
Your arms almost immediately gave out.
Clearly, you were not as skilled in the art of film making as Ellie had been, the camera dropping almost completely to your tummy as Ellie sucked at your cunt. Her eyes flicked up, and she unlatched from the saccharine slick that pooled on her tongue.
“You keep that camera steady,” she muttered, thumb rubbing tiny, tight circles on your throbbing clit. “Or I stop, yea?”
You nod quickly, hips grinding into the slow and steady motion of her thumb, wet with your sticky . You would have agreed to anything she demanded of you right now anyway. Too needy, too desperate to feel her lips on you again.
“ ‘M counting on you to make a pretty movie for me.”
The sentence tapers off as she disappears to the space between your thighs again, and you nearly and truly sob as her nose bumps your clit, her tongue poking experimentally against your hole, feeling as it clenches against nothing.
You know your whimpers and quick little puffs of air are being picked up by the camera, but you’re too focused on keeping the lense directly focused on the auburn tendrils of hair, on where her face was covered by your thighs caging her cheeks in, keeping her in the place she most needed to be, drinking down every single single drop you gave her.
“Ellie,” you whine, toes curling when she presses away from your clit, two long fingers coming to part your folds, admiring the sticky sight.
“Shhh,” Ellie coos, eyes glancing up at the camera again, the burning sight of her fern colored gaze through the tiny screen has your stomach clenching even harsher, hands trembling lightly.
The air on your exposed center lasts no longer than a few seconds, Ellie’s head dipping down as the warm, wet feeling of a glob of her spit trails down your clit, finding your pulsing hole. Her tongue swipes it quickly after, suckling gently at the shiny bubbles. The sound that follows, the loud wet squelch of your wetness mixing with her spit is enough to make you want to cover the speaker of the camcorder, fingers gripping tightly at the little contraption. She focuses on licking at your sopping cunt, her head moving slightly, moaning against your folds.
“Oh—nnh—El!” you cry, your chin trembling in tandem with the hand you try desperately to keep still. Your hips rut up, and Ellie’s face moves up with you, an arm detaching from its place on your squishy thigh to instead wrap around your waist, pulling you closer. Impossibly closer.
You can feel yourself closer, closer to that delicious peak, Ellie’s nose bumping your clit, tongue working mind numbing ministrations on you.
Then she pulls back.
“Fuckin made for me,” Ellie groans, taking a deep breath as she unlatched from your pussy, her fingers sweeping through your puffy lips. “Was fuckin’ made to let me taste you.” Her eyes flick to the camera, her tone louder than usual— a little less breathy. She wanted the microphone to hear.
You cry pathetically at the loss of her tongue, lip quivering.
“Tell me,” she demands, voice overpowering the slick noises of her now shiny fingers rubbing between your folds, the tips pausing at your pulsing hole, dipping only a little in, teasing. “Tell me this pretty pussy was made for me.”
And then Ellie is reaching forward, letting go of her grip on your hips to grab harshly at the camera, maneuvering it to show your trembling body, her fingers pressing open your lips, giving the camera a pretty close up of your soaked cunt. She croons at the sight, her fingers pressing together to land a short and sharp slap against the swollen lips. “S’pretty.”
“Ellie,” you choke, chest heaving up and down as the embarrassment creeps up, making that coil in your tummy even tighter.
“Tell me,” she says again, smoothly.
Desperate to have her fingers opening you up, to have her filling you and breaking that tightly wrapped tension in your groin, you break.
“I’m yours el. ‘m all yours, was made for you,” your voice is restrained, quiet as you chew at your lips, stirring in your spot as she continues the teasing.
“What else? Tell me more, baby,” she insists, one long finger sinking into you, hissing at the feeling of your cunt molding to her, perfect for her as you clench.
“A—ah!” your voice is a sweet little cry. You grind down into the feeling, searching for more. “It’s yours El,” you babble— louder now, head thrown back. Ellie captured the moment with a quick tilt up of the camera. “M-my pussy s’all yours.”
“Fuck,” Ellie breathes, her own, usually steady camera hand, wavering as you speak. She grants you with another finger as she thrusts harshly into you, a shriek pulled from your open mouth.
“So—s-so fucking perfect,” she grunts, curling her fingers gently, hitting that squishy spot in your walls that has you keening, eyes rolling back. “Love this pussy so much, shit—shit, love you so much.”
“Love you too El,” you blubber, your chin tilting down to stare directly at the camera for a second. That awkwardness, the fear from the early days of when she’d film you completely gone as you moan pathetically, eyes shiny with complete and utter adoration.
She only pistons her fingers into you harder, faster, relishing in how you moan, how your toes curl and your chin wobbles. You’re the prettiest fucking thing she’s ever seen.
The camera points down to where she’s thrusting into you, watching through the screen as you meet her thrusts, your hips moving against the grey sheets, your thighs squeezing her hand in between them as you sob out.
Ellie meets your eyes, stealing your attention from the camera she keeps focused on your squirming frame, pounding her fingers into your cunt. “Cum for me, you can do it baby, go on. Give me a pretty show.”
And you do. Your sweaty back lifts off the bed with a sharp sob as the cord in your tummy snaps, gushing around Ellie’s fingers, pulsing around her as she thrusts shallowly, riding you through it.
Your vision goes black for a second as you heave, hands shaking as you reach out for Ellie, fingers looking to curl around her warm skin.
You don’t even notice the off click of the camera, of how she lets it softly drop to the side as she climbs up your shaky form, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek.
“So pretty,” Ellie hums, “Prettiest movie star ever,” she mumbled, and you pour your lips— getting another soft kiss as she continues to plant tiny loving pecks around your face.
“Never should’ve let you keep that camera,” you whisper gently, smiling right when she does against the corner of your mouth that she pecks at.
“Yea fuckin’ right, we just made the movie of the year babe.”
3K notes · View notes
c0eu4 · 5 months
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LN4 | Tits
Request: inspi ration (he said tits in the blurry part)
Summary: Lando meets Y/n at a club and she asks him to sign her tits. A few days later, Lando is looking for her and they become friends. So she surprises him by coming to see him in Las Vegas.
Warning: Lando signing tits? Lando jerking off himself, needy Lando but no smut
A/N: I'm so so so so so sorry but I accidentally published the story when it wasn't finished and I had to delete and redo everything and I don't have the request!!
part one - part two - part three
MASTERLIST requests are opens
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His glass in his hand, he moves to the rhythm of the music. The lights of all colors blind him slightly and the music is so loud that he can't hear people talking around him. He takes the last sip of his drink, disappointed at having to move from the dancefloor to get a drink.
He warns Max (Fewtrell) and heads towards the bar in the center of the club. He doesn't take the time to sit down and walk next to a young woman, leaning against the counter.
He signals to the bartender and asks him for another drink. As he waited for his drink, the young lady next to him patted his shoulder, ''Uhm excuse me?''
He turns around, giving her a charming smile. He can't help but let his eyes slide down to her plunging neckline, waking up her chest. ''I can help you?''
The young lady blushed slightly, ''Uhm are you Lando Norris?'' He chuckled, ''Himself'' Her eyes widen softly, ''May I ask you an autograph?''
Lando can't help but smile even more. He doesn't know why, but he's not annoyed when she asks him that. Normally, he accepts like anyone else, even if it annoys him to be disturbed.
''Of course, do you want me to sign something in particular?'' She thinks, asks the bartender for a piece of paper, who tells her he doesn't have any. Then suddenly, an idea crossed her mind.
''Can you sign my tits?'' Lando's eyes widened, his cheeks getting slightly red. He chuckled as he took the pen the bartender offered him.
She pulls down her dress a little, revealing her breasts even more. ''Should I sign both?'' He can't take his eyes off of her breasts. He feels like he's a growing teenager again, filled with uncontrollable hormones.
''Yeah please.'' He uncaps the pen, puts a hand on her shoulder for support and tries to write but can't. He sighed, dreading his questions. ''Can I touch it? It would be easier.''
She chuckled, her now hugely revealed breasts moving slightly along with her little laugh. She still wonders if he isn't trying to touch them on purpose. But hey, after all, it's not every day you catch Lando Norris's eyes.
''If you want that much.'' He can't help but laugh, his warm breath tickling her bare collarbone. ''What's your name?'' He placed his hands on her right breast, ''Y/n.'' he tried to stretch the skin to allow the pen to work better. He signs it and adds 'for y/n, with love' He reproduces the gesture on her other breast, not hesitating to let his fingers slide a little lower.
His signature is perfect. As in the photos. ''Thank you'' He winks at her and she chuckled softly, probably nervously. He takes his drink and goes back to see Max who's now a bit away from the dancefloor and talking with some people.
Lando approached them and immediately, Max whispered something in his ear, ''Mate you're hard.'' Lando's head turns red as one of his hands slowly goes in front of his bulge, hiding it.
_ _ _
A few days later, Y/n is still in Lando's mind. He can't stop thinking of her. He even tried to search her on Instagram but it wasn't conclusive. He still sees her reddened cheeks, her nervous smile, her pink lips and her breasts.. oh my god. Just thinking about it makes his pants feel tight.
He readjust himself in the bed, his hand slipping under his boxers. He couldn't help it, she was so beautiful...and good. He imagines his cock between her breasts accelerating the movements of his hand. And it doesn't take long before he's cumming in his pants, imagining Y/n touching and licking him.
What a dirty boy he can be. Seriously, jerking off while thinking about a fan's tits.
He gets up after catching his breath and clean the mess he makes. His phone buzzed and he looked at Max's message.
''Mate you're not gonna believe me''
His text was accompanied with a picture.. of y/n, drinking a coffee, alone.
''Isn't that the girl you're looking for?''
''Where is she?''
''The cafe we usually went to'' ''You want me to do something?''
Lando doesn't answer, already putting on his shoes and jacket. He went outside, walking pretty fast to his car. His mother would kill him if she knew how speedy he drives.
He enters that café, his eyes wandering all the people in. His gaze freezes on her. She was as beautiful as he remembered. Her long brown hair cascaded over her shoulders and her black turtleneck hid her collarbone, at the risk of disappointing Lando. Her laptop is open in front of her, next to two empty cafes.
He doesn't know what to do. Should he go see her? Or just observe her? He can also offer her a coffee and write his number on it, like in the movies.
He gathers his courage and orders two coffees. One for her and one for him. He decides to play it cool and sits across from her, putting the coffees on the table. She looks up from her computer and smiles nervously. ''Mister Norris. How can I help you?''
Her cheeks turn slightly red probably just like his. ''Maybe by giving me your number?'' He surprised himself with his overconfidence. She giggles, writes something in her notebook and gives the piece of paper to him.
Deep down, she knew that during that evening, something had happened between them. But she never thought he would look for her.
_ _ _
Since that day, they haven't stopped talking to each other.
Lando is an extrovert. Y/n is an introvert.
Lando likes to talk. Y/n likes to listen.
Lando doesn't know how to hide his feelings. Y/n doesn’t know how to show them.
They complete each other. They are made for each other. Their discussions are natural, Lando loves talking to her, even until late at night. And he knows she will always be there to listen to him. Meeting her was the best thing that could have happened to him.
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Y/n feels bad to have to lie to him. She walks back into the airport, readjusting her sunglasses. She passes through the secure gate without any hassle and barely has time to land to wait for her plane that Oscar called her and she picked up the phone.
''What did you tell him?''
''That I can't come.''
''I heard him crying in his driver's room.''
Oscar had agreed to help her to make a surprise for Lando and come see him in Las Vegas. But knowing that Lando's cried for her makes her heart breaks.
''Aw I feel so bad.''
He chuckles.
''Don't worry, he'll be so happy. I'm sure he'll kiss you.'' Oscar always thought that one day or another, they would end up together. Not that it bothers Y/n, but Lando is her best friend and she's afraid of ruining their relationship.
''Stop saying silly things.'' Oscar laughed again, but more loudly this time.
''Yeah yeah.. ahhh.. we do like we say, huh?''
''Yep, I'm going to enter the plan in a few minutes, be sure to be there when I land.''
''No I should let you at the airport.''
''Funny but you'll have to support the upset of Lando during the whole week.''
''You win on this point.''
''I let you Ozzy, see you in LA.''
''Have a nice plane.''
She thanks him and hangs up. She gets on the plane and sits in her seat. During the twelve hours of flights, Y/n finds something to occupy herself by watching a trilogy, sleeping and reading.
Once arrived, all that remains is the most complicated part. She has to collect her suitcase, leave the airport and join Oscar without being recognized. She readjusts her sunglasses and the black mask that hides the lower part of her face. With her hood on her head, she walks with her head down and hurries to collect her suitcase.
She leaves the airport in less than thirty minutes and quickly finds Oscar's car. She puts her suitcase in the trunk and gets in the passenger seat.
''Hey, nobody saw you?'' He asked her as she took off her sunglasses, mask and hood. ''Hi, I don't think so.'' He doesn't wait any longer to start the car and drive straight to the hotel.
She preferred to surprise him by waiting for him in his hotel room rather than at the track.
''I got a copy of his room card.'' He gives her the card as she quickly puts on her makeup.
It doesn't take long for them to arrive at the hotel. He helps her with her things and they hurry to the hotel room. Due to traffic jams on the road, they lost time and Lando should arrive more soon than expected.
She places her things in a corner of the room and sits down on the bed that he didn't even take the time to make.
''Tell me if he kissed you.'' Said Oscar before leaving her alone. He didn't let her have the time to respond and she just scrolled on her phone to pass the time.
She looks in the mirror, checking that her outfit is okay. She made the effort to take a twelve-hour plane with a rather uncomfortable dress, even if she was wearing one of Lando's sweaters over it.
She readjusts her hair and receives a message from Oscar telling her that he ran into Lando in the hallway.
She sits on the edge of bed and stares at the front door. She hears a noise, then a 'beep' meaning the door is open.
Lando walks into the room, not even noticing her, too busy looking at his phone. He places his bag on the ground and finally looks up from his phone.
His eyes open wide and his mouth is parted, not knowing what to say.
''Happy birthday, Lando.'' She smiles at him getting up from the bed.
Lando doesn't know what's going through his head, but he walks towards her, places his hands on her cheeks and presses his lips to hers.
Shit. Oscar was right. But it doesn't stop her from kissing him back, moving her lips along with his. She wraps her arms around his waist to pull him even closer to her.
''What the hell are you doing here!?'' He finally breaks the kiss, still in shock.
''Don't you still know that I'm a very good liar?'' He kissed her cheeks, his hand slowing on her hips.
''Fuck I missed you so much.'' He kisses her neck, already nibbing on it.
''Wow wow wow Lan', slowly.'' He stops it and his lips go back to hers.
''I hate you.'' She arranges the strands of hair that fall in front of his eyes.
''No you don't.'' He kissed her again.
''Be my girlfriend.''
''Did I have the choice?''
''No.'' He doesn't give her time to respond as he kisses her again, addicted to her lips.
Lando will no longer need to imagine his cock between her breasts. He's already planning to experience it tonight.
2K notes · View notes
kisakis-boyfriend · 5 months
Note
hiii, I wanted to request male reader receiving Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet (separately) as a Christmas present? they’re naked, wrapped up in red ribbon, and presenting themselves on reader’s bed to be absolutely ravished. Please and thank you for your time!
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Pairings: Lyney, Lynette, Freminet x reader (separately)
Warnings: Male!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom characters, adult characters, light bondage, vibrator (Lyney), Lynette is called 'babygirl', slutty Freminet
Genre/Format: Smut; Scenarios
Author's Note: So erm, how can I get these cuties under my tree this year? 👉👈
Please check my blog title to verify whether requests are closed or not! Thank you!
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The dull buzzing reached your ears as soon as the door flung open. Your eyes focused on the part of the room that the buzzing was coming from; the side where your bed is located
A small gasp escapes you when you finally land on the little present left for you this year. None other than Lyney himself; tied up tightly with red ribbon, and a bullet vibe stuffed into his hole, hence the buzzing you heard earlier–
“Well, well. What's this now? A shiny, new toy for the holidays?” You began, making your way over to the bed and brushing your fingers against Lyney's knee. “Goodness, what did I do to deserve such a beautiful present?”
“L-like what you s-see? Ghn–! ” Lyney grit his teeth as a particular pulse from the toy occupying his hole hit him. Hours of being tied down with this thing endlessly massaging his guts had turned him into some oversensitive mess; reduced to a sweaty, flushed, orgasm-hungry man
The smirk on your lips made Lyney's hole twitch, aching for your touch already. “Oh, I like it alright. And just how did you get yourself into this configuration, darling?”
“A-a magician n-never reveals his s-s-secrets...Aaahh—!! ” Wanton moans fell from Lyney's lips easily. Bucking against nothing as his hard cock leaked onto his stomach, creating a pool of precum soaking into his happy trail
Curiously, you ghosted your fingers over his length, smirking at the gasps that it caused. Your fingers dipped inside of Lyney's cute hole and pressed the little vibe right up against his prostate, an action that had his small body writhing around in pleasure (and overstimulation)
Soon after that, he came. Intense enough to knock the wind right out of his lungs, Lyney moaned loudly as you ripped orgasm after orgasm from him — fingering his little hole, slapping his cock, stroking him in time with your thrusts. All without ever removing the vibe buried in his ass
-
“Mmm...mmph—!! Haa-aah—!! ” Muffled moans drew your attention to the closed door of your bedroom. Something — or rather, someone, was making a whole lot of noise inside...
Upon opening the door, your eyes were greeted with the intriguing and beautiful sight of Lynette; tied with a silky red ribbon that accentuated her curves nicely, ass up on the sheets and face buried in them
“Damn, Christmas isn't for another week, babe. What's all of this for?” You teased, strolling closer as the feline woman shivered. Placing a hand on the plump flesh of her ass has her arching into your touch, turning her head to face you with drool-stained lips and messy bangs
“M-merry Christmas, y-y/n~” Lynette breathed. “Do you– do you like y-your gift?”
How could you not? Your darling was kind enough to wrap herself in pretty ribbons and wait archons know how long for you to come home; presenting herself all for you. You could tell that she was excited too, in between Lynette's legs awaited a drooling, quivering pussy. Wet and ready for whatever you wanted to push inside
“Oh baby, it's the best present anyone's ever given to me. You're so thoughtful~” You said, swiftly plunging two fingers inside of her cunt, your dick twitched in your pants when you felt her insides. “Fuck...”
You wasted no time pulling out your cock and lubing it up with Lynette's juices, teasing the poor thing in the process. She involuntarily clenched around nothing; choking on a moan as you slapped her clit with your dick. When you finally pushed inside, she came immediately
Wet juices dripped down Lynette's thighs, falling onto the bedsheets in an obscene display. “Fuck– That was hot, babygirl. You must've been so desperate for so long, huh?”
The catgirl could only muster a whine as you began to thrust in and out, holding onto her hips and fucking her trembling body on your length. If she continues to squeeze your cock like this it will definitely be a white Christmas...
-
This was quite the surprise— Before you, laid bare except for the shiny red ribbon clinging to his body, was Freminet. Bound and gagged by that same ribbon, whimpering when your eyes met
“Shit. I don't even– Don't even know what to say.” Taking in the full picture in front of you had your dick growing harder and harder. Freminet's hole was wet and pulsating; his small cock hung over his stomach, stiff and dribbling onto the skin. Looks like he's just as desperate to be ravaged as you were to ravage him
You approached Freminet and stroked down his chest, admiring his beautiful skin. He was so flushed by this point, with red cheeks and shoulders, his little cock was red too. A sight that you so adored whenever you had the chance to see it
“Can I take this out? I wanna hear your pretty voice while I mess you up~” The blond nodded, allowing you to remove the gag
“Fuck me, y-y/n—!! Ple-ease...?” Oh, this was too cute. Freminet begging was such a weak point of yours. Without thinking, you freed your cock from its constraints and lined it up with your darling's pretty hole, pushing past that tight entrance and immediately feeling the warmth of his walls surround your dick
“Oooohh fuck yeah—!! Fuck...hhng–! ” You gasped, bottoming out right away as Freminet's walls sucked you in. Already about to cum just from this. The trembling boy beneath you was cockdrunk; his eyes had crossed and his lips parted in a pornographic display
“H-har-der...h-harder, please!! Oh fuck...” Freminet managed, consumed by the need to be your precious cumdump
“Yeah? You're spoiling me, baby boy. Fuck—!! ” Your thrusts sped up, now pounding into Freminet's tight ass with growing lust. You need to cum so badly, need to fill him up— and as long as Freminet moans the way he is now, you'll fill him up nice and full
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mistiell · 7 months
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Hello!! Since your requests are open and I absolutely love the way you write him (despite there only being one—), may I request some sort of angst to fluff for Astarion with a reader that accepts his advances but doesn’t seek him out because they know that he’s only doing so for protection/convenience?
Like; yes, the reader does care deeply for him. They could even say that they love him. But they don’t want him to do anything just because he feels as if he’ll be denied kindness and sustenance if he doesn’t. So they’re very reserved and keep to themselves, treating him very kindly when he propositions them, but doesn’t do anything more than what he asks.
Omg, thank you so much!! I worried I might have portrayed him in a way that was ooc but I'm glad to see people like the way I write him!! lol WC: 1.6k
---
Astarion has manipulated and romanced countless people over the centuries. He knows what he’s doing. The routine differs depending on the person, of course, but he has it down to a science.
You shouldn’t be any different.
Since the first time you let him feed on you, it’s become a sort of routine he regrettably relies on to stay satiated. It’s been nearly a month and a half of sneaking to and from your bedroll every few nights, and he’s begun to worry that you’ll tire of it – that you’ll get sick of the fatigue and the lingering ache in your shoulder that clings to you well into the morning after.
This particular morning, he sees it in your sluggish movements and absentmindedness. Karlach has to call your name thrice before you finally turn to her with a small, “Hm?”
“Gods, has the tadpole migrated and blocked your ears?” The tiefling chuckles, cuffing you on the shoulder on the same side Astarion had fed from the night before. With a pained grunt, you wince, brow scrunching in discomfort as you roll it out a little.
Karlach gasps, “Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“It’s alright.” You smile, but when Karlach leaves, it falls as you rub at the juncture between your neck and trap muscle. If he doesn’t find a way to keep you on the hook, there’s no chance you’ll let your late night meetings continue.
So, when the two of you are sitting by the fire after setting up camp for the night, he decides to offer up the only thing he can think of to keep you interested.
“Ugh, Gods. There is nothing to do around here.” He huffs, prodding for an opening.
You snort, taking a sip out of your water skin, “You can say that again.”
There it is.
“You know,” He leans just far enough into your space to make you fluster, smirking, “We could always make our own entertainment?”
Eyes darting away from him, your throat bobs, “What do you mean?”
He leans in a little more, making sure to glance at your lips as he purrs, “I think you know what I mean, darling.”
“I think—,” Your voice cracks up an octave and you clear your throat, embarrassed. It’s rather cute, “I think I do...?”
“You think so, hm? Tell me what I mean, then.” Your mouth opens and closes a few times, and he can hear your heart beating fast against your ribs. He chuckles coyly through his nose and leans forward to brush the tip of it along the apex of your cheekbone, lowering his voice to a seductive whisper, “Might it have something to do with,” His fingertips find the top of your hand where it rests on your knee, ghosting up under your sleeve and over your wrist as he breaths, “Touching, maybe?”
A shudder runs through you as you swallow hard, “May— Maybe...,” He’s not expecting it when you pull back and look at him apprehensively, “But... I mean, are you sure?”
The question takes him aback; throws him off balance. No one’s ever bothered to ask before. It makes him wonder if he’s off his game, if perhaps his act isn’t as convincing as it normally is.
He shakes it off, grinning at you coquettishly, “Of course, my dear. I wouldn’t have suggested it if I wasn’t.” It’s not the first white lie he’s told you, and it certainly won’t be the last.
You wet your lips, searching his expression for any sort of hesitance. He’s careful to make sure there’s none to find. When you’re satisfied, you smile shyly, “I’d like that” “That’s what I like to hear.” He hums, standing before offering his hands, “Shall we?”
You take them, and as he leads you somewhere more secluded, he counts it as a victory.
Weeks pass, and he’s sure to propose a little fun between feedings to keep in your good graces. One thing that he’s noticed is that you never really ask him to do anything more than what he’s suggested. He expected you to come to him every once in awhile after the first time he’d bedded you, maybe ask for a piece of him when you’re bored or in need of some stress relief, but... you haven’t.
He also expected you to have at least some demands, but aside from voicing your preferences in the heat of the moment, you haven’t asked him for a damn thing. For a moment, he wonders if he’s losing his touch, but he shakes the thought off as quick as it comes. The implications of it make his stomach churn.
If not his body, what else does he have to offer?
“Astarion?” You call as you approach him where he stands near his tent.
He startles, then clears his throat to play it off. “Yes, darling?”
You smile apologetically. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“No worries, my dear.” He doesn’t understand why you’d apologize for something so small, or why it makes his undead heart twist uncomfortably in his chest, “Did you need something?”
“Come with me?” You ask, offering a hand, “I have something I’d like to show you.”
This is it. You’ve finally come to offer yourself up instead of it being the other way around.
“Ooh, I like the sound of that.” He hums, taking your hand and allowing you to lead him into the forest. A rather odd location to lay, but he’s definitely worked with stranger.
Weaving through trees, you lead him to a small clearing with a blanket spread out over the grass in the center. You only let go of his hand when you reach the edge of it, toeing off your boots before carefully plopping yourself down on top of it.
“So this is what you had in mind, hm?” He grins, following suit after you pat the spot next to you, “A romantic romp under the stars?”
“Oh! Uhm, no.” You titter, and he frowns.
“Then what did you have in mind, pet?” He asks, watching you twiddle your fingers.
“I-.” You huff, rubbing at your mouth and glancing away, “There’s supposed to be a meteor shower tonight, and I thought we could watch it together.” You let out a small, embarrassed laugh, “It’s stupid. You don’t have to stay, obviously, but... I thought it could be nice.”
What the fuck.
“You... brought me all the way out here, just to watch the stars?” He asks, sounding bewildered even to his own ears.
You look back at him nervously, nodding, “I did.”
What the fuck.
He should say something, but for the first time in a long while, he’s completely lost for words. His brows draw together in confusion, and when he speaks, his voice comes out wrong; too soft, too shaky. “Why?”
You stare at him, worrying your lip for a moment before starting carefully, “You don’t need to sleep with me to buy my kindness, you know. I enjoy our nights together, of course, but I’d like you just as much without them.”
Now he’s really at a loss. His stomach lurches with the anxiety and embarrassment of being seen without meaning to be. He feels vulnerable; exposed.
“Of course I know that.” He scoffs, attempts a smug grin. His voice shakes as he says it, “What’s not to like?”
You huff a small, singular puff of laughter, “Right.”
Something flashes above, drawing both your attentions. Stars shoot across the blackened sky, streaking it with white and blue and purple. You gasp, eyes so wide, he could watch the whole spectacle through the reflection dancing over them.
You lay back, using your forearm as a pillow as you watch the sky intently. He follows soon after, a strange silence falling over the two of you.
He tries to focus on the sight above him, but your words have a hold on his mind like a vice grip. It’s been so long since anyone has shown him kindness without some sort of transaction involved. So long that he can’t even recall it ever happening.
He stares hard up at the sky, mouth twisting down in apprehension. He swallows thickly before murmuring, “Would you really?”
He sees you turn your head to look at him out of his peripherals, brows drawn together in confusion, “Would I really what?”
Embarrassment flares and writhes in his gut; his nose wrinkles at the feeling. He feels utterly ridiculous as he replies, “Still like me if I didn’t...”
He can’t find a word that sounds right. You understand anyway.
Some strange, melancholic sort of horror flashes over your face before you will it away, nodding resolutely.
“Absolutely.” You flip your hand so it lies palm up on the blanket. An invitation, not a demand, “You mean more to me than sex, Astarion. I don’t care what we do or don’t do, as long as I get to be with you. Whatever that entails.”
A lump forms in his throat and his eyes burn. He knows if he looks at you, he’s not going to be able to keep the tears at bay. He looks at your hand instead, staring for a moment before slotting his fingers between yours. Squeezing, he hopes you’ll take it as what it is, “Thank you. I don’t think I deserve this. I don’t know how to navigate this. I think I want to try.”
You squeeze back. He takes it as, “I’ll wait for you.”
2K notes · View notes
reiding-writing · 4 months
Note
Omg imagine Reid being incredibly touch starved and literally having this very primal craving for affection to the point it's all he can think about but he cannot for the life of him get over his fear of germs and it's just all this angst and ahh
deprivation [ s.r ]
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Summary:
Spencer needs support. He needs it. But he for the life of him just cannot reach out for it himself. And after one particular case, you make an effort to try and quell is emotional rampage.
WARNINGS: germophobia, self deprecation, touch deprivation, emotional breakdown
pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader
genre: ANGST, hurt/comfort
wc: 2.8k
masterlist!!
a/n: great minds must think alike because i was actually already working on this when the request came in😭
i made this less angsty than originally planned, but i hope it suffices nonetheless the less, thanks for the request! <33
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Spencer Reid was exhausted in every sense of the word.
His muscles ached, his head pounded, and he was so burnt out he didn’t even have any thing to say when JJ had incorrectly mentioned a ‘fact’ about a certain sub-species of butterfly that was supposedly native to Oregon.
His exhaustion only proved to get worse as the jet took off for Virginia, but the unfortunate rampaging of his own mind proved any chance of him sleeping on the flight home impossible.
“Hey… Are you okay?” Your voice seems to echo across the silence of the cabin despite you practically whispering to avoid waking your teammates, and Spencer’s eyes flicker up towards you, clearly not having expected you to be awake.
You stand up from your seat, walking down the aisle to take a seat on the sofa next to Spencer, his head resting in his hands as his eyes followed you. “You’ve been really quiet since the case ended,”
“I’m fine…” He said the words, but it wasn’t reflective of his tone of voice. There was something there. Something more, something beneath the words.
A sadness.
An uncertainty.
And if you listened to his voice, not just to his words, you’d hear a hint of pain, a deep seeded sense of misery that he was concealing beneath the usual layers of stoicism.
“Spencer you’re talking to a professional profiler, which I don’t even need to be to know that you’re not okay.” You can’t help the soft sigh that escapes your mouth, turning to sit sideways to face him properly.
"I'm fine," He said the words again, and this time they held a touch of force. But the words did not match his tone, still pained, wounded, and silently pleading with him to just be honest with you.
And as the words came out of his mouth, he took a deep breath, closing his eyes as if hoping that what he was feeling would be gone by the time he opened them again.
But when they fluttered open through his eyelashes he was still on the sofa of the jet and you were still sitting there and he still felt miserable.
“If you don’t want to talk about it then I won’t pressure you,” You dejectedly resign yourself at Spencer’s insistence, leaning your left side against the back of the sofa. “But just know i’m here for you if you ever want to get something off your chest okay?”
"It's just...It's just-" He paused, biting his lip as if unsure about what he was about to say. He knew it may be dangerous to let himself slip. So he considered his words carefully before he spoke again. "...it's just been hard...I’m so stressed and...I'm...feeling vulnerable. And I don't like it. I don't like it at all."
“Everyone’s gonna feel like that at some point Spence, especially in our line of work,” You tilt your head slightly at him, a soft expression painting your features that matches your tone.
"I know..." He said, " But...I don't like feeling like...like i can't cope. Like I'm scared. That's not who I am. I'm supposed to be the rational one. The smart one." Spencer dragged his palms up his face and back over his hair, leaning back against the sofa with his head leaned back against the wall.
“I don’t like being scared,”
And there, again, in that simple sentence was another hint of the hurt that his apprehension hadn’t managed to fully hide. “I’m meant to be better than that.”
“Spencer just because you are a functioning genius does not mean that you’re not allowed to be scared, that’s a part of what makes you human,” Your face furrows as you become increasingly concerned for Spencer and his mindset.
"I-...I know..." He said the words, but the underlying message was clear. He might know that he was supposed to have emotions and he might know that expressing them is healthy, but there was a part of him that was screaming at him to suppress them.
To bury his feelings and pretend to be the robot that his childhood (or lack thereof) had forced him to be.
He wasn't trying to be resistant, he was just...afraid.
“When was the last time you cried Spencer?” The question blurted it’s way out of your mouth as your concern for Spencer only continued to grow.
"Why would you ask me that?" His tone of voice was almost affronted by the question as if he were a little wounded that you had brought up something so sensitive.
He swallowed back the lump in his throat, and you swear that you could see his eyes glass over even in the dim lighting of the cabin. “Because i want to know exactly how much pent up emotion you’re dealing with right now,”
You make a conscious effort to relax your features as you look at him, sighing softly. “Please answer the question…”
Spencer took a second as he deliberated whether or not to answer your question, staring blankly across the cabin so he wouldn’t have to look at you.
"958 days ago."
He said the words coldly, but you could hear the emotion in the way he spoke them. This is the moment when he finally cracked. When he finally realised that hiding the way he felt wasn't a sustainable solution.
And its was also the point when he started to break down. The tears finally started to flow, and he couldn't stop them as much as he tried.
“Spence…” You reach out a hand towards him, but you barely get it up out of your lap before he firmly stops you.
"Don't..."
The words come out of him sharply, but there's something in his tone that saying the opposite. There’s a note of desperation in them. A plea. A cry for help. Because he wants you to touch him, he needs you to. But he's resistant to the idea, he keeps resisting it. “80% of communicable diseases are passed by physical contact. I don’t want to get sick.”
You curl up your hand into a ball as you let it fall back into your lap, pursing your lips as Spencer uses his statistical knowledge to stop you from touching him.
You knew he had an aversion to touch. That he was hyper aware of practically any illness that could possibly be transferred through human contact. You knew that he kept himself at a physical distance from everyone for a reason.
But you also knew that despite all of that he needed physical comfort. Words just weren’t going to cut it.
“It’s okay to need to be comforted…”
"I can get through this myself." He cuts you off harshly, and if you didn’t know that he was obviously mentally struggling his tone would’ve cut you deep.
He's in pain.
He's miserable.
And he's been alone for too long.
He needs emotional intimacy. He needs the affection and comfort of his friends.
He just can't bring himself to actually say that.
“Spencer, let me comfort you. please.” You bite the inside of your cheek as your eyes follow a tear that falls down his face, leaving a water streak in its wake.
“It’s not healthy for you to ball yourself up like this,” You plead desperately with him to let down his emotional barriers and just let you help him.
"There's nothing wrong with me." His words are still cold, but he's wavering now. His shoulders are lowering, his hands loosening from fists to lying flat on either side of him.
He wants you to touch him. He wants the affection that he's been deprived of for so long. But there's still that part in him that's resisting. The voice in his head telling him he can't.
“There doesn’t have to be anything wrong with you for you to need comfort Spencer,” You attempt again to hesitantly reach out a hand towards you, but your advances are again immediately shot down.
"Please.. Don't touch me." His words come out weakly. He's desperately resisting, but the tears are still flowing down his cheeks and you can tell that he’s trying not to completely break down.
“…Are you sure?” You hand retreats back to your side the second he denies you, but you both know he’s not entirely convinced of his own boundaries.
"I'm sure."
He's lying.
The tears were still streaming down his cheeks, and even one quick look at his eyes could tell you that he was desperate to be touched.
He was craving human interaction. But the words were still coming out of his mouth. He wasn't ready yet, not quite yet.
Your hand falls to the gap between the two of you on the sofa, a few inches left between his hand and yours as you suppress a sigh at the clear desperation coating his face despite his denial of your touch.
But you don’t want to overstep the boundary, even if he’s not 100% sure of it himself.
He stares back at you, still resisting the urge to reach out for your hand, even though he's not sure why. He knows that he would feel better if he could grab you and put his head on your shoulder, letting the weight of all of his problems wash away.
But there was still the little voice in his head shouting "Don't. Don't touch them. Don't." And he was struggling. Fighting with every inch of his being for self-control.
As the two of you fall into a slightly tense silence, you make a small movement to breaking Spencer’s self made barrier as you edge your pinky finger towards his own, just barely brushing his skin as you keep your eyes plastered on the opposite wall.
His eyes follow your fingers as they inch their way closer and closer to his. And when - at long last - you make contact, Spencer freezes. Time seems to just stand still as his eyes are transfixed on the single point of contact between your fingers and his.
He doesn't move, he doesn't speak. He just watches.
Over 200 breeds of bacteria are passed through people’s hands for every second they’re in contact.
But he can’t seem to pull himself away.
Because this is the connection he seeks. This is the release he needs. And finally, finally he gets it.
You continue to gently bridge the gap as your pinky finger links itself with Spencer’s, squeezing it with a gentle pressure as you try desperately to stop your eyes from averting back to him.
The second your finger links with his, a dam of emotions breaks. The tears flow faster and he lets out a whimper in the back of his throat.
As soon as you touch him, he leans into the feeling and turns his hand over, pressing his palm and his other fingers against your own, wanting more, needing more of this sensation that he's been starved of for so long.
You respond enthusiastically at his acceptance of the contact, interlacing your fingers together and giving his hand a soft squeeze as you finally bring your gaze back towards his face.
“You’re going to be alright Spencer…”
The moment your hand falls into his is a moment of sweet release. The flood gates have opened, the dam has broken, and there are no barriers between him and the overwhelming emotions he's been forced to bottle up.
And as the dam breaks so too does that small, insistent voice telling him to reject contact. That small voice that tells him he can't have physical affection.
Because that small voice is wrong.
And when you squeeze his hand he brings no hesitation into melting into you completely and burying his face into the crook of your neck.
You immediately shift to accommodate Spencer’s weight against your body, breaking the contact of your hands to pull him into a firm but comforting embrace, rubbing soft lines up and down his back as the other held his head against your shoulder.
With tears still flowing down his cheeks and his head buried in your neck, he lets out a soft, contented whimper.
His body relaxes in your embrace, and just lies there in your arms.
He's safe. He's finally safe, and it feels good. He no longer needs to hold himself together. And for the first time in years, he feels loved.
“I’ve got you…” You whisper the affirmation softly into Spencer’s hair as you rest your nose against the crown of his head.
He lets out more soft whimpers, his body relaxing as he leans into the comfort of your embrace, finally allowing himself to just let go.
He takes in big breaths, drinking in your scent as he tries to slow his breathing. He's still crying, but the tears aren't so severe anymore. He's finally started to calm down.
You lean backwards against the seat to support both of your weights comfortably as you focus on soothing Spencer through his emotions, running your fingers gently through his hair and massaging softly at his scalp.
The soft strokes against his head bring a wave of shivers, but they aren't like the shivers that he had felt when he'd been shaking so much.
These are better, these are warm and comforting, and it was like the tension was leaving his body from his head all the way down to his toes.
It feels good, it feels right.
Your touch was healing, and his whole body is relaxing in the gentle massage of your fingers.
“when was the last time you got a full night’s rest Spence..?” The question is soft against his ear as you continue to gently scratch and massage Spencer’s scalp, pulling him slightly towards you with your other arm to secure him safely in your lap.
“I… A while ago…” His words were hushed and sleepy, the exhaustion evident in the slight rasp that was present in his voice. He's been so caught up in the case and the work that he hasn't given a moment's thought to taking care of himself.
He's running on caffeine and willpower. He’s exhausted.
“You should get some sleep…” You carefully adjust the way yo two are sat until you are lying flat on your back with Spencer splayed out on top of you, burying himself in your presence at every point possible.
“I will…”
He's lying.
And based on the fact that his eyes are still squeezed tight against you and the way he's practically buried his body into yours it's clear that even he knows that he's lying.
There's no way that he can sleep right now. Not when he's finally feeling safe. When he's finally found comfort. He plans to bask in it for as long as possible.
“I’ll still be here when you wake up Spencer,” You know that he knows that you know he’s lying. “Get some rest,”
"But-"
He wants to hold this moment, to cling to this moment, trying to delay the passing of time just a little longer.
"I-“
He falters, realising that he's fighting against losing an argument that has already ended. He forces himself to breathe in and out in a slow and deliberate way as he resigns himself to the inevitability of falling asleep.
“…promise?”
He sounds less like a genius and more like a scared child when he says those words. A child who wants to be reassured. Who wants to be told that everything will be okay. That he'll be taken care of when he wakes up from his slumber.
“I promise.”
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moonstruckme · 3 months
Note
wearing spencers clothes🤯🤯 the boy would not be able to focus!!!! i love all of your work btw!! you're single handedly encouraging me back into my marauders phase❤️
Then my scheme is working ! Thanks for requesting babe :)
Spencer Reid x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words
Spencer has to force himself out of bed so you don’t wake up to him staring at you. Also, so he has time away from you to get himself together. 
He’s never felt so much like skipping before. As soon as he’s in the kitchen, full to bursting with the knowledge that you’re asleep one room over, his smile is unshakable. It’s embarrassing, honestly, he’s like a high schooler. You can’t see him like this. He starts going through the kitchen to see what’s not expired. Ketchup, hummus, bread, muffin mix (too risky), mattar paneer (not a very good breakfast), eggs. Spencer can work with eggs. He has to double-check that he has both salt and pepper, but he’s good to go.  
He pops bread in the toaster once he hears you moving around, a giddy flare of anticipation shooting up through his middle. You’ve never stayed over before, and Spencer didn’t have any time to prepare. He only has one hand towel, which you seem fine with sharing and he’s going to pop in the washing machine as soon as you leave, and only one toothbrush. He feels bad that you have to brush your teeth with your finger. If you deem him worthy of a next time, he tells himself, he’ll be ready then. 
He hears the quiet padding of your footsteps but forces himself not to turn around until you say, “Morning.” 
Your voice is still stretched with sleep, and when Spencer turns around he can see it still lingering in your face. Your eyelids are droopy, weighted down, and your hair looks like you’ve tried to run your fingers through it but couldn’t quite get it to behave, and you’re—that’s his sweater vest. You’re wearing his sweater vest. 
He must be staring, because you look down at it, your expression going sheepish. “Sorry, is this okay? I know you’re sort of particular about germs, but I didn’t want to just come out here naked, and I really didn’t feel like putting on my jeans…” 
Spencer shakes his head quickly. “No, it’s fine.” All the stuff you’d done last night, and you think he’s going to be fussy about your germs on his clothes? This is a completely different kind of upset. You’re—you look—well, you look like something Spencer dreamed up. You look like comfort and sweetness and Sunday morning. 
“Okay, thanks.” You smile. Spencer thinks that if he was hooked up to a transducer, you’d actually be able to see the rush of dopamine to his brain. “It’s lucky you’re so tall, this fits me like a dress.” 
A small dress, but sure. “I also have a disproportionately long torso,” he blurts. “My legs aren’t as long as they should be for my height, so my shirts and vests are longer than average.” 
You nod like everything he’s just said made perfect and socially acceptable sense. The toast pops up and Spencer jolts a little, remembering to push the eggs around in the pan a bit. 
A little smile tilts your lips, and you lean back against the counter behind him. “Are you making us breakfast?” 
“Mhm.” 
The smile spreads, your eyes going soft. “That’s so sweet of you,” you say warmly. “Thanks, Spence.” 
“I can’t really cook,” he warns you. “I mean, I can usually do eggs, but only scrambled and even then I might…don’t thank me yet.” 
A little laugh spurts out of you. It reminds Spencer of the fountain in front of his work, of water sparkling in the sun. “Okay,” you say, “do you want any help?”
“It’s probably best if whatever happens is undeniably my fault.”
You laugh again. He wonders what he can do to make that keep happening. 
“Fair enough.” You push off the counter, headed towards the door. “Do you get the paper?” 
For a second, Spencer’s too busy watching you go to remember if he does. “Y—yeah. It should be here by now,” he says. 
He hears the door open, and then, “Perfect.” You come back brandishing the rolled-up paper, discarding the rubber band in his trash bin. “Do you mind if we do your crossword? You seem like you’d be so good at that.” 
Spencer actually stopped doing the crossword years ago—the pop culture references he didn’t get, and the rest were too easy—but he’ll do it if it might impress you. 
“Sure, let’s try.” 
“Okay.” You grab a pen from the coffee table, spreading the paper open on the countertop. “Wyoming’s state sport, five—”
“Rodeo,” Spencer says. It takes him a beat to realize he cut you off. He turns, grimace in place and apology on his lips. “Sorry.” 
But you’re grinning. You shake your head a little bit, pride or admiration or a bit of both, and write it down. You push a piece of hair away from your face. Spencer’s eyes get caught on the wool of his sweater vest where it brushes your collarbone. 
“African river to the Mediterranean, four letters. That’s the Nile, right?” 
The garment seems to shift with every tiny movement. Sliding atop your shoulders, moving about your neckline, the soft material skimming your ribs. Under the counter, it has to be bunched underneath your thighs. 
“Spence?” 
“Hm?” He forces his gaze up. “Yeah, the Nile.” 
“Thanks.” Your eyes linger on him a second too long before you bend back over the paper, a knowing smile playing on the corner of your lips. “Okay, and eagle claw in five letters is talon, right? Oh, um, eggs.” 
Spencer’s brow wrinkles. “How many letters?” 
“No, Spence.” You laugh, sliding out of your seat. You tug his sweater down a bit as you walk over, the band at the bottom hugging your thighs. “The eggs. Your eggs.” 
He turns, registering the smell of smoke before the sight of the crispy, blackened eggs in his pan. “Oh.” 
You reach past him, elbow bumping his as you switch off the heat. Spencer moves the hot pan away from you quickly. He scrapes his sorry eggs into the trash bin, setting the pan in the sink. “Sorry, I got distracted by the crossword,” he tells you, and though he suspects you catch the lie you’re kind enough not to call him out on it. 
“It’s fine.” You shoot him another of those brilliant, beaming smiles, taking a piece of cold toast from the toaster. “I love toast. Do you have any butter or jam or anything?” 
Spencer winces. “Not really…” 
You laugh, giving his arm a reassuring pat. “No worries. I’m down for a trip to the store if you are.” He nods sheepishly, and you press your lips together, thoughtful. “I think I might change first, though.” 
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gelus-ugs · 1 year
Text
Xavier Thorpe x Fem! Reader
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Prompt: [Y/n] has always worn baggy clothing, even her uniform is a bit too big. Xavier thought nothing of it, figuring that it was just what she was comfortable with. Little did he know it was to hide something a big..bigger (no, not pregnancy)
Established Relationship
Update: I haven’t heard anything about the Percy Hynes White situation, so I’m opening back up requests for Xavier Thorpe!
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At the sound of reoccurring knocks from the other side of the door, Xavier stood from his bed and made his way to the door. He cracked opened the door, revealing his girlfriend in her oversized uniform.
“Hey!”
[Y/n] smiled up at Xavier, who opened the door wider to let her in. As [Y/n] entered his dorm, she took notice of the many sketches and drawings that were hung on the walls.
One in particular had caught [Y/n]’s eye. It was that of a lily, blooming amongst other flower buds. It was a simple drawing, yet she was entranced by it.
“Sorry my dorm’s a bit of a mess”
Xavier apologized as he began to move some things around as an attempt to tidy up a bit. Upon hearing no response, he looked up to see [Y/n] staring at one of his drawings.
Xavier walked behind [Y/n] and gently placed his hands on the side of her arms, caressing them as he leaned down to place a kiss on the top of her head.
“The lily, huh? Ironically, I was thinking of you while drawing that”
“It’s beautiful”
[Y/n] mumbled, admiring the drawing for a tad bit longer before turning around and smiling at Xavier. The male couldn’t help but return the smile as he placed a kiss on her cheek.
“The bathroom is over there if you want to change into something more comfortable”
[Y/n] nodded, grabbing her change of clothes from the bag she had brought with her before making her way to the bathroom. Xavier found himself on his bed, mindlessly scrolling through social media as he waited for his partner to finish changing.
“So, what movie should we watch?”
“It doesn’t matter to me. Whatever…”
Xavier answered with a shrug as he looked up from his phone, losing his train of thought once he laid eyes on [Y/n]. She was wearing a fitted tank top - which exaggerated her chest in comparison to her usual clothes that kept it hidden.
Xavier never thought much about what [Y/n]’s body was like under her baggy wear, the male never really caring to and figuring her body was as normal as anyone else’s.
Oh lord, was he wrong.
Nothing could’ve prepared Xavier for the sight of his girlfriend having large breasts - it was like a horny teen’s dream come true. Xavier couldn’t help but stare as her figure walked towards him, talking away as he paid little to no attention to what she was saying.
Once [Y/n] was close enough, Xavier pulled her onto the bed and immediately rolled on top of her, burying his face in between the flesh of his partner’s chest. [Y/n] let out a noise of confusion as she stared at her boyfriend,
“Xavi, love..what are you doing?”
Xavier only let out a hum in response, causing [Y/n] to chuckle. She began to run her fingers through Xavier’s hair, smiling down at him.
“Do what you want, Xavi”
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