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vanteguccir · 2 months

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Her exception | Chris Sturniolo

Chris Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where Y/N is shy and Chris loves to tease her for that.

Warning: None.

Requested?: Yes, by anon.

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

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Y/N walked down the stairs towards her shared room with Chris in slow steps, her mouth forming a pout after she checked the fridge and saw that her sweet was gone.

The girl stopped for a few seconds in front of the white door before knocking lightly twice with her closed fist, turning the handle and opening it.

Her eyes traveled around the room, noticing that the lights were off, the turned on computer serving as the only source of lighting. The loud sound of the video game Chris was playing escaped his headphones, echoing off the walls.

The boy was sitting in his gaming chair with his arms resting on the computer table and his hands working on the keyboard and mouse quickly, his brow furrowed and his tongue between his teeth in concentration.

The girl approached slowly, touching her fingers on his covered shoulder lightly, alerting him to her presence.

Chris looked up, pausing the game and lowering his headphones instantly when he realized it was his girl. A smile appeared on his face as his blue eyes traveled over her silhouette momentarily before focusing on her face.

"Hi baby! Wow, who gave you permission to look that good, huh?" The brunette flirted, a smirk stretching across his cheeks as his tongue escaped between his lips, wetting them quickly.

Y/N felt her blood rush to her cheeks instantly, a reddish hue covering her face and neck. She looked down in shyness, playing with the hem of Chris's t-shirt over her body. The reason why she went to him already forgotten.

"Stop it." Her voice was quieter than she expected, but loud enough for Chris to hear. A laugh escaped his throat as he lifted his own hands, encircling his girlfriend's waist and pulling her closer.

He rested his chin on Y/N's stomach so that his eyes focused on hers, exhaling the scent of her perfume that surrounded her.

"I'm just teasing you, baby. Even though you look more beautiful than ever today." Chris spoke, a smile resting on his lips.

"You always say that." Y/N whispered, bringing her hands to her boyfriend's soft hair and stroking it lightly, feeling her insides melt like ice cream in the summer.

"Because you always look so beautiful." The boy said one as if it were obvious, rolling his eyes playfully. "What did you want, pretty girl?"

"Can you walk me to the bakery down the street? I went to eat my apple pie from there, but it's gone." The girl asked slowly, biting her lower lip as she felt her cheeks burn from asking for the favor.

"Don't do that, sweetheart." Chris's thumb touched the lip trapped by his girlfriend's teeth, releasing it slightly. "'Gonna hurt your pretty lips like that."

Y/N felt her heart speed up at her boyfriend's touch and gentle words, combing his hair to try and hide her shaking fingers.

"Sorry." Her voice was almost null as she lowered her head, her eyes meeting the blue ones she loved so much, receiving a smile in response.

"No need to apologize, my love." He caressed his girl's warm cheek with the thumb he had just used. "Let's go to the bakery and buy an apple pie for the prettiest girl in the world."

He knew how much she hated going to establishments where she would need to talk to a stranger, so he always accompanied her with great pleasure.

Chris got up from the chair slowly so as not to hurt or push his girlfriend's body with his movements. He straightened his hoodie with his hands, smoothing out the small wrinkles from his previous position, before picking up his wallet that was on his computer desk, putting it in the pocket of his pants.

The boy lightly placed his hand on his girlfriend's back, guiding her through the room and up the stairs, even though she didn't need the support.

The gesture made Y/N's heart skip a beat, her hands clenching into fists from the way she felt her fingers shaking and her arms getting goosebumps, she pressed her lips into a thin line to keep from biting them, not wanting to disobey her boyfriend.

Chris always made her feel so loved and safe, and despite her shyness with his kindness, she didn't stop him. He was her exception.

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My asks are always open. Feel free to send requests or anything at all 🩷💋

And remember to treat people with kindness always!

~ taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd

(If you want to be added to the taglist, please comment here)

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eideticallys · 1 year

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You Think I'm Delicious?

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: all your dreams and hopes of getting cuddly with spencer were shattered when he uttered those six words.

“i don’t like your new perfume.”

genre: fluff & crack

word count: 1.9k

author's notes: here's a spencer reid fluff without plot, just crack (i tried so i hope you'll laugh while reading this). anyway, enjoy reading this one! also posted on ao3 (spencereids).

THE THING ABOUT DR. SPENCER REID IS THAT HE’S A VERY SENSITIVE PERSON. He's very particular about stuff like his dislikes for certain textures and not knowing about something—making him a good researcher by the way, because if he doesn't know something, you'll find him poring through books—and even certain smells aren't an exception. One might think that this is normal with his job because, of course, he does. He has probably smelled dead bodies more than he has smelled fresh flowers. Of course, he hates smells like rotten flesh. Disgusting, honestly. But, what can he do? That is part of his job.

So, when he suddenly tugged you to his side one day to hug you, you were excited for him to take note of your new perfume and love it. No, you were certain he’d love it just as much as you did when you first took a whiff at the store. You just had to buy it because you were sure he’d go crazy over your smell. He’d tuck his face into your neck and shower you with pecks. Because despite what everyone else thinks they know about Spencer having an aversion to touch, he was quite the cuddler when he was in love. And yes, you were the lucky recipient of his comforting hugs 24/7.

However, all your dreams and hopes of getting cuddly with Spencer were shattered when he uttered those six words.

“I don’t like your new perfume.”

Your jaw dropped as soon as he said that distressing sentence. Meanwhile, Spencer was quick to move away from you and continue what he was doing previously—playing chess by himself. Sometimes, if only you didn’t love your boyfriend and didn’t have to face charges, you would strangle him for a lot of things. One of which was being nonchalant after just dropping a bomb like that. What does he mean by you smell bad? You bought a citrus-scented perfume that hurt your pockets; you’ll have to give up your afternoon snacks at the cafe near the FBI headquarters. So, like any good partner out there, you just had to instigate a little argument over your new perfume.

“Excuse me?”

Your boyfriend looked up at your incredulous tone, merely raising a brow at you as if to ask, “What’s up?” This almost got your eye twitching, but you refrained. Taking a breath, you plastered a sickly sweet smile on your face and clarified your previous question.

“What do you mean you don’t like my new perfume?”

Spencer started reddening at your accusatory tone and shrugged halfheartedly, which made you raise one perfectly formed brow at your boyfriend. Now, you’re curious why your boyfriend blushed at your question.

He may be quite shy, but Spencer wasn’t the best when it came to social cues. He rarely gets embarrassed about something unless you blatantly point it out. You could probably count on one hand the number of times he flushed pink. A funny memory you have of him reddening like a tomato was when the BAU were out interviewing streetwalkers. Despite his social awkwardness, Spencer was propositioned by all the women he talked to. You could still remember the exact look he had on his face when he had to pull his tie away from the woman, who was busy rolling it on her fingers.

God, he’s so precious, you’d keep him in your pocket if you could. But right now, he isn’t your favorite person, and you’d love nothing more than to figure out why he was blushing. You were sure there was something behind all those burning cheeks.

“Spencer,” you slowly enunciated the syllables of his name, making him look at you once again. He tilted his head in question as you sighed dramatically, “Out with it.”

“What?”

“You’re flushed pink. You’re picking at your nails, and your right knee just started bouncing.” You pointed it out, and Spencer tried to remedy every single thing you mentioned. “Baby, for a profiler, you’re not doing great at hiding stuff. Tell me what’s going on.”

He scowled and crossed his arms like a petulant child, definitely wishing you weren’t a profiler, and a damn good one at that, like him. You merely chuckled at his antics and crossed your arms in retaliation. No, you weren’t backing away from this one. You spent money on perfume, hoping your boyfriend would love it. But no, he hated it, and now, you have to know why.

You could hear the ticking of the wall clock—if you focused hard enough—with the way not a single sound could be heard from the both of you waiting for the other to cave—not even a phone call from Garcia telling you that you have a case and, you have to be in the office in fifteen minutes could disrupt your focus right now. You could say the same about your boyfriend right now, who is intently staring at your phones on the table. He was probably hoping a work call would come through to save his ass from getting interrogated by you. It’s kind of sick that one would want to hear a new body was found, but at least you’d be out there catching another bad guy and locking them up, never to see the light of day until their last breath. He would rather have a face-off with a murderer than his girlfriend, whom he’s pretty sure is close to resorting to violence for borderline calling her stinky—not really, you’re just dramatic like that.

“Well, for starters, I think it’s strong like I’m drowning in it,” Spencer emphasized the word strong, making your brows furrow. He didn’t have that problem with your previous perfume, and it was stronger—he’s hiding something. You stared pointedly at your boyfriend now, who was fidgeting like crazy under your scrutiny.

“Are you sure that’s it? You didn’t have that problem with my previous perfume, which I’m pretty sure is much stronger than this one.” You clarified, tilting your head to the side as you explained further. “Garcia loved the smell of flowers, but she told me she sneezed every time I passed by. She had to ask me to change the scents immediately. And despite the complaints, you loved it so much that you would tuck your face into my neck.”

At this point, Spencer looked like he was about to burst from an aneurysm with how red he had gotten. You couldn’t help but feel a little bit sorry, but you also had to make him suffer.

“Tell me, Spencer. Or else, I might just have to resort to other tactics.” You almost cackled at the way your boyfriend looked like he’d rather start digging a hole for him to bury himself in. “And you know, I’m a great profiler. I always get what I want.”

However, as soon as you said those words, you noticed Spencer’s eyes drifting towards a half-full bottle sitting on his little desk filled with heaps of paperwork.

Oh. That’s the problem.

“Baby, I think I know what the problem is here.”

Spencer quickly leaped off your couch to avoid getting teased by you—which wasn’t your plan at all, by the way—and was about to run into your bedroom, but you were quick on your feet and were able to catch his arm and pull him towards you. Yep, unfortunately for your boyfriend, you were better when it came to physical activities.

Although you were better at that angle, you still weren’t able to properly estimate the way you pulled him into you because both of you ended up toppling over on your couch. Luckily, it was the couch, because you’re sure Hotch would have your heads served on a platter if both of his agents were injured and there was a sudden case.

You both landed unceremoniously, with Spencer squeaking as he ended up face-first into your chest, and you groaned as you cushioned his fall. Choosing to pause for a moment, you ran your hands through his brown curls as you both tried to catch your breath. Spencer seemed to agree with that idea as he started inhaling your scent, which made you smile a bit.

“You know, it’s not that I hate your perfume because it smells bad.” Spencer started explaining in a hushed tone, “I just liked it better when you smelled like me.”

Your eyes widened at his confession. This was the first time Spencer had ever said something possessive. Despite not being the usual alpha male girls go for, Spencer had enough confidence in himself that you chose him out of all the guys out there you could’ve gone for. At the start of your relationship, you made it clear to him that he was the one you wanted to be with. Not someone as domineering as Hotch or someone as bold as Morgan.

No, you wanted Spencer.

You wanted to be with Spencer.

So, you were shocked at your boyfriend’s display of possessiveness, but at the same time, you found it cute that he wanted you to smell like him. It wasn’t every day that he wanted to engage in a public display of affection. And just like any other girlfriend out there who enjoyed the attention you got from your boyfriend, you laughed as you tried to pull Spencer’s face towards yours.

“God, you’re so adorable, Dr. Reid,” you exclaimed as you peppered his face with pecks and pinched his cheeks as he tried to dodge, embarrassed after saying he wanted you to use his perfume, “I could eat your face!”

“We don’t want that." Spencer said, "The BAU would lose two of their best agents with me inside your gastrointestinal tract and you in jail for cannibalism.”

You rolled your eyes at him as he blinked at you innocently. Sometimes, you hate his brain.

“Stop taking things literally!" You exclaimed to your boyfriend, "You know what I’m talking about!”

“I don’t.” Spencer frowned. You could hear the cogs in his brain start working, meaning he was about to spew out some facts. “Actually, our senses of smell and taste are directly related. They both use the same types of receptors, so if you smell something that you think is delicious, this triggers the same area of the brain that activates our salivary glands. Wait, you think I’m delicious?”

You facepalmed yourself. For a guy with an IQ of 187, your boyfriend could be an idiot.

“You’re an idiot.”

“No, I’m not!” Spencer protested and explained some more, “Seeing an object, food, or even a person that is pleasing to the eye can cause people to salivate. Pleasant smells such as your favorite food, your partner’s natural scent, or smelling perfume on your partner can stimulate the production of saliva more than looking at that person. This process can initiate feelings of wanting to eat or bite.”

Despite his protests, you simply clucked and pinched his nose. Wanting to retaliate, Spencer continued spilling his tangents.

“Aha! You like me so much, my smell makes you want to bite me!”

“You know what, Spence?” You asked sweetly at your boyfriend, who was now listening intently to you. He’ll never know what hit him. “I love you so much, but I preferred it when you got embarrassed about wanting me to smell like you.”

By your admission, Spencer started blushing profusely again as he tried to bury his face in your neck.

“Shut up!”

“I love you too, Spence.”

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dirtytomatoedwrites · 6 months

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THE RESIGNATION

Summary: You can quit. It doesn't mean Rafe will let you.

Paring: CEO!Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

Strictly 18+ No Minors to Interact

Warnings: 18+ Smut. Oral (w receiving) Masturbation (w), Rough Sex, PIV, Creampie, Fluff, Romance with a dash of Angst. AgedUp!Rafe. Not Proof-Read. Enjoy.

Word Count: 2k words

Author's Note: Something a little shorter, lighter and sweet. Happy reading and much love to you all ❤️

Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Please don’t steal or copy bits of my writing or any writing from other writers cause karma will get ya.

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*Buzzzzzzzzz*

“Yes.”

“Y/N is here to see you.”

“Send her in.”

Rafe watches in fascination as you shuffle in, your face taut and serious. Your eyes cast downward, clutching a file. As you tuck an unruly strand of hair behind your ear, he realizes you're nervous. The tension, his silence, makes you even more anxious.

“Sit,” he instructs, motioning to the chair across his desk. Meanwhile, he keeps his gaze on his papers. He continues to read and leisurely sign forms. Yet, he can distinctly feel your eyes on him, both of you fully aware of the meeting's purpose.

For Rafe, the dynamics at play are exhilarating. After finishing his tasks, he lifts his eyes to find you focused on your file, seemingly avoiding his gaze.

He unbuttons his suit jacket and leans back, his fingers drum lightly on the fine-crafted letter in front of him. The paper carries a soft hint of perfume. It smells like you.

There's a part of him that wishes to be cruel, to use biting words he's often used with others in his employ. Yet something about you prevents him. The game of power was always in his favor, but with you, the boundaries become ambiguous, shifting in unexpected ways. With you, it's always been personal.

“Why didn't you tell me you were unhappy?” he asks. His tone is calm, yet probing. You seem taken aback, eyes widening as they search his face.

He decides to try another approach. “It's clear to me now,” he points to your letter of resignation. “You were unhappy at Cameron Enterprises. How long have you felt this way?”

Your surprise is palpable, and he watches you closely, enjoying the tapestry of emotions that flash across your face, each one more captivating than the last.

“Well?” he prods.

You shift, straightening your back. “I am grateful for my time at Cameron Enterprises. Truly I am. The team has been so kind to me, and I'll honestly cherish the friends I've made—”

“But?” he asks, cutting you off, eager to understand.

“But, I believe it's time for me to pursue other opportunities,” you admit, measuring your words. You slowly nod your head, as though you have thought this whole thing out, and now you are not only resolved with the thought but you truly believe it. It’s this sureness, this resolution, that truly makes Rafe react.

“I see,” Rafe says as he presses a button, making the office walls turn opaque. "So, you think you've outgrown us."

“No—”

"No?" he interrupts, rising from behind his desk and walking slowly toward you.

"No. I just- I feel it's time for me to try something... new.”

"Something new," he repeats, his gaze lowers to meet yours while you look up at him. His eyes scrutinize you carefully. “I respect that,” he nods, and as you avert your gaze, he gently hooks your chin with his fingers, prompting you to look him in the eye.

“No, really. I do. What's the point of life if not to grow, right? But let me be crystal clear: leaving here is not an option. So, here's what I'm willing to offer," his voice is as smooth as honey as his thumb strokes your jaw. "First, a five percent raise. But seeing as you’re already on one of the highest salaries here, I suspect that won't really sway you. You’ll also be given a new title.”

"Raf—"

"And to sweeten the deal," Rafe interrupts, "a vacation to any destination you want. You'll be whisked away on the company jet, stay at a five-star, luxury hotel—every need pampered and taken care of. I'll see to that, and we'll get to that, but here's the thing—" he whispers, his voice low and seductive.

"You embarrassed me today—ah, ah, I'm talking," he asserts, his eyes commanding yours into silence. "If it were anyone else, anyone else, no one would have noticed or given a flying fuck. But since it’s you, your little resignation created a lot of gossip. It made us look weak, hinted at instability, and in a Fortune 500 company, that's not going to work. Do you think the board cares about your need to ‘try something new'? Hm," his gaze is drawn to your mouth as you clamp it shut.

"So for those reasons, I'm going to punish you,”he says, while his thumb gently taps your chin. "But how to punish you...” he muses. “That’s the real question.”

Pulling away, he slides his hands into his pockets and, after taking a few steps back, leans against his desk.

"Rafe, you know I was just— I mean I wasn’t trying to—”

"Spare me, all right? I'm not interested in hearing what you have to say. Not right now. What I want..." he said slowly as he tapped a finger to his chest "What I want, is for you to open your legs, yeah? That's what I want."

You're shocked — he gathers as much from the way you gulp, and Rafe can't help but let a smirk of self-satisfaction curl his lips.

"Don't look so surprised. You knew what working for me entailed when you agreed to it. Now, spread your legs. Let me see what I'm shelling out nearly half a mil for."

"Rafe, I… I" you murmur.

Crossing his arms, his gaze locks onto yours signalling the end of the discussion. Hesitantly, and with much caution, you eventually slide your legs apart, your skirt riding up ever so slightly.

"Wider," Rafe commands, "Lean back and open them wider."

Breathing heavily, you do as he asks. Leaning back against the chair, you spread your legs open fully, causing your skirt to ride up to your waist, revealing your panty-covered sex. The damp patch, dark against the bright red fabric teases him.

"Pull your panties to the side. Let me see how wet you are.” he whispers silkily.

You turn your head away shyly but eventually you hook a finger into the fabric and pull it aside, exposing your slick wet folds to his ravenous gaze.

Rafe smiles in approval.

"That's good." he purrs, "Now, touch yourself. That pussy looks like it needs a good fingering " his voice rumbles with authority as his gaze flickers from your face to your exposed weeping slit. You hesitate, breathing heavily while trying to form a protest.

"I… I'm not—"

"Do it," he interrupts firmly.

You hesitate for a few moments, but eventually obey by pushing a finger into your dripping sex. A moan escapes your lips when Rafe lets out a deep groan as encouragement. Your hesitation seems to disappear and you push another finger in.

"Fuck," he hisses. "Add another. I know you can handle it."

You nod slowly and introduce a third, while the middle finger of your other hand gently rub your clit. Sinking into the sensation you open your legs wider for more access, your fingers moving hard and fast.

Rafe groans in protest. “Go slow...This isn’t for you. It’s about what I want, and what I want is for you to tease yourself. You're not allowed to cum. Not yet. Not until I say.”

You whimper but follow his command. You slow your speed til it's teasing almost leisurely and Rafe soaks it all in. The jolts of pleasure that have you mewling, the way your chest rises and fall, breathless, desperate. The way you curl your fingers just enough to make you gasp. It's incredible to watch and as your hips begin to buck against your massaging fingers, Rafe finds himself looming over you, taking in the sight of your ecstasy-filled face and finger-stuffed pussy.

He leans in and kisses you. His tongue lashes yours, tasting your moans and desperation. He pulls away, eyes back on your wet centre, focused on your fingers moving in and out, accompanied by the sweet wet sounds it makes and your hips rising from the chair.

"Go on, make that pussy cum." he orders. In no time, your orgasm washes over you. He can see it build from your core as you shudder and your thighs shake, your breath hitches fighting to stave it off and then it radiates out from the depths of your soul in a moan of pure ecstasy.

Before you can catch your breath, Rafe pushes your hand away and laps at your essence with his tongue. His hands on the back of your knees, push your legs right to your chest, keeping it wide open as he tongue fucks you.

Eating you out was always an appetizer he savored, making sure you had cum at least twice from his efforts, but right now, with his blood boiling with anger and frustration, he's famished and desperate for the main course.

Urgently, he undoes his slacks and lifts your legs even higher, pinning your ankles above your head with one hand. Without giving you time to adjust, he smears his cock with your slick and plunges deep into your tight heat, pressing you into the chair with his body weight as he begins to pound you.

It's a painful position, and he's acutely aware of that. It's deep and aggressively forceful, the type of position that should be approached with care, or ease you gently into it. But right now, it's not about you. Right now he's too riled up to care and so he fucks you without remorse or restraint, reducing you to nothing more than a fuck toy- his fuck toy spurred on by the delicious moans that escape your parted lips.

Your hands cling to the armrests for dear life as you desperately try to maintain your balance. Rafe continues to slam his hips against the back of your thighs, taking pleasure in your inability to move while he plows you deep. You whimper, desperate to escape his grip, but it does nothing to deter him. Instead, he revels in your struggle, knowing that your lack of control will only intensify his orgasm and your own.

"You want to quit..." Rafe sneers. He watches you whimper and feels your pussy tighten like a vice, while simultaneously soaking the front of his slacks. It makes him feral and he redoubles his efforts, fucking you into the chair until it starts to scrape against the cherry-oak floor.

"You want to quit on me?" he strains, while he observes ecstasy wash over your face, your eyes roll back in a pleasure-filled awe. With one hand, he gently taps your cheek to keep you focused.

"You wanna quit on me? Huh?” And he leans in further, his cock repeatedly hits a spot so deep you’re shaking, babbling and barely coherent.

“You're not going anywhere. Not now, not ever," he grunts, "Now fucking cum. Fucking cum.” His ruthless demand pushes you higher until all inhibitions are obliterated. You scream out in surrender, bucking up onto his plundering cock while Rafe releases a guttural moan, filling you with ribbon after ribbon of thick cum.

Several minutes have passed when his movements gradually stops, signaling the ebbing of his energy. He's exhausted, his fervor having reached its climatic end. He pulls out, his balance wavering slightly until his back meets the glass desk behind him. A contented exhale escapes his lips as he takes in the sight of you.

There you are, looking thoroughly fucked out. Your legs are splayed open, a sheen of sweat glistens on your skin, reflecting the aftermath of passion. His cum slowly leaks out of you and you wear it like a carnal badge of honor. Observing your state, he’s acutely aware that his own appearance mirrors yours—fucked out and messy. His clothes is in disarray, his cock is hanging out and physical exhaustion makes his body seek support against the table.

Despite the disheveled scene, a wave of affection swells within him, washing over any remnants of his earlier anger. His chest heaves as he gulps in air, attempting to control his breathing.

"You're lucky I love you," he manages to say, each word punctuated by his effort to recover. His gaze locks onto yours, intense yet softened by the rush of emotions. "No one else has this infuriating, intoxicating effect on me. You drive me to the brink and back," he adds, a playful seriousness lacing his tone as he licks his lips. "For that little stunt, I should fire you," he teases.

Your fingers glide through the cum dripping from your sex, and Rafe can't suppress a sense of pride. He always takes pride in the chaos he creates, especially when you revel in it.

"I've been trying to talk to you, but you've been so distracted lately, you haven't been listening" you sigh, as you try to catch your breath. "What else was I supposed to do to get your attention? Hand me some tissues, will you?"

He pauses, his eyes narrowing as he digests your words, then reaches with a trembling hand for the tissue box on his desk. "When? When did you try to talk to me and I wasn't listening?" he asks. He takes a clump of tissues and hands them to you.

"This morning at breakfast, and last night during dinner. I barely started speaking before you turned the conversation back to contractors and deadlines and even when I gave you a solution, not just one Rafe but two- two concrete solutions you ignored me. It was like I wasn't even there. It's not the first time." you explain, accepting the tissues from him.

"I didn't realize—"

"You did," you interrupt, ensuring your eyes stay fixed on his to underline your statement. "Why do you think I kept singing the song about wanting to make some changes, wanting to try something new. I've been saying it for weeks on and off because this is clearly not working."

“I thought you were talking about remodeling the offices, not resigning from the company. It's a family business—how would it look if my wife quits?" His voice carries a hint of concern, not just for the optics but for the unspoken bond that this business represents between the two of you.

A soft sigh escapes you as you lock eyes with him, a delicate blend of frustration and affection. "Rafe, I don't want to walk away from this," you admit "But I need more than just a title and a desk. I need to feel heard, to be part of this with you, not just in name because I'm married to a Cameron. I want to be a part of the decisions and changes we dare to dream up together."

Rafe's eyes hold yours, a moment of realization dawning upon him. "I see you," he says quietly, the weight of his oversight apparent in his tone. "I'm sorry I wasn't listening. Do you really want to leave? Is that what you truly want?"

His question, earnest and laced with vulnerability, hangs between you, but you shake your head gently. "No, I don't want to leave, Rafe. I just want... more. More involvement, more acknowledgment, and yes, maybe even a little more attention. But leaving? No. This place, with all its madness, is where I belong."

He exhales, the relief evident in the way his shoulders drop slightly, the rigid line of worry softening around his eyes. "Thank fuck for that," he says with a hushed intensity. "Because I can't imagine doing any of this without you. But let's agree on no more 'resignation stunts' in the future, yeah? It's bad press and only makes for bad business—besides, I doubt my heart can take it."

You nod, agreeing, a mischievous glint in your eye as if to say you’ll find another effective way to get right under his skin, because in the end you always do. “Fine. But for the record, I do have some ideas for my office too."

He laughed, the sound rich and warm, and he pulled you into a messy, loving kiss. "We'll discuss it at home, Mrs. Cameron. For now, let's get you cleaned up, yeah?"

"Speak for yourself. You're the one with your dick hanging out."

With a shared laugh and a sweaty kiss, you both begin the task of putting the office—and yourselves—back together, the line between professional and personal wonderfully blurred.

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A/N - See guys I can do sweet 😈 I tried to keep the reveal until the end shhhh 🤭 Thanks for reading x If you enjoyed it please reblog as it supports writers. Until next time ❤️

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caesium-55 · 2 months

Text

—seven days. [ ii ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

author's note: not beta-read. not edited. here's part 2 folks. part 3 is on the works now. did i write this fic instead of studying for my important quiz tomorrow? yes, yes i did. pls pray for my score.

masterlist.

For Christmas in 2019, Max has gotten you an apartment near his in Monaco. It is a loft apartment good for one on the 8th floor, a building away from where Daniel and Max lived. Originally, he wants to get you the unit a floor below his. You decline quickly, insisting that you are very fine with rooming with Julia and Kendall, who are both members of the Red Bull PR team whom you have gotten close with since your first year working with Red Bull. Max may have beef with the PR team for making him do a lot of embarrassing shit for the views but you're besties with most of them and actually thank them for making Max suffer through PR stuff because you cannot afford therapy and watching Max suffer through PR-related activities is a good form of free therapy. Also, Monaco apartments are fucking expensive. Red Bull might be paying you well but not well enough to afford an apartment in a country as expensive as Monaco.

“I want you close,” he tells you. If you did not know any better, you'd have butterflies fluttering in your intestines right about that moment. Sometimes, Max utter the most heart-fluttering of nonsense without meaning to. It causes your heart to stutter more times than you would like to admit.

“Well, I don't want you close.”

Max will never ever win an argument with you. He knows that. You know that. The best he can do is come to a compromise, a compromise that is usually tailored to suit whatever you want.

So you got that small loft apartment a building away, good for one person only. It's easy to clean and it's cheap, Max already said that, which makes you happy because you can set a payment plan for that. An apartment as a Christmas gift is already too much, borderline giving you a heart attack already. Rich people spending their money give you, a person of the middle class folks, heart attacks. Why can't Max be normal and give you a normal gift? A bracelet? A bag? You’ll even accept it if he gave you a slice of cheesecake. Not even your parents can buy you an apartment.

It has only been three years since the keys are passed on to your ownership and people say three years is enough time for a person to make a place home. But your apartment doesn't even feel like home, only a place you’ll sleep in if you happen to be in Monaco for the evening.

Home is that humble, two-storey house painted in red and yellow in Lynnwood Avenue, Vista Del Pueblo, Austin, a total picture of a picket fence dream. Home is Abuelo's old farmhouse in El Paso where you spent your childhood riding horses and driving ATVs across the dusty dry earth. Home is the retro milkshake place owned by the sweet old couple that has been in the neighborhood longer than your entire existence. Home is the tree-lined streets where you walked the family senior dog, Niko. Home is the Austin Fire House, your Dad’s workplace that you visited a handful of times back when you were a child to deliver cookies that your Abuela baked so your Dad could share it with his co-workers. Home is your mom’s clinic in the middle of downtown, always smelling like eugenol, disinfectant, formaldehyde, and her perfume. Home is not glitz and gold and glamor and cash cash cash. Home is not seeing wealthy people left and right. Home is not Monaco.

And it is not like you stayed long in your place either. You're always off traveling around the world with the Red Bull team and accompanying Max wherever he needs your presence. You don't even spend your breaks in that apartment because you immediately fly home to your family once a break is graciously given to you before flying off again to watch Max collect trophy after trophy.

Six days from now, you're going to be flying off to Texas. That means you have six days—less than six days actually—to pack all your crayons and go. Of course you're going to pack up the day before you leave. Doing shit last minute makes your life exciting, and it's not like you had a lot of shit to pack anyway. All your belongings can be tucked into a total of three suitcases. Three years worth of belongings in three suitcases.

you: you doin good there?

Max has been holing himself up in his penthouse since your arrival from Abu Dhabi, probably dealing with his breakup with Kelly. A shame, really. You thought the two looked good together. (Do they really? the asshole part of your brain thinks.)

And P. Thank God for that child’s existence. You hate children but P is an exception. P brings the best out of Max. Max has gotten the chance to act as the father he never had. It's heartwarming, to be honest.

him: not really no

him: can you bring me coffee

you: on it champ

Fifteen minutes later, you’re knocking on the gigantic double doors of his penthouse, a tall styro cup of espresso from that cute café two streets down and a slice of blueberry cheesecake because you’re thoughtful enough to buy him his favorite cake. You experienced a breakup before. A cake and an icecream work wonders when it came to healing broken hearts.

“You're fast,” he immediately says after opening the door. You kind of expect that he’d look worse, snotty and messy and looking like he ran from hell and back. But no, he looks……fine? His sweater and shorts look absolutely neat and comfortable and dry of snot. His hair is a little fluffy from lying on his bed but not too messy. He doesn't even look like he was crying. No red-rimmed eyes. No red nose.

You fake gasp, putting a hand on your chest for additional dramatic effect, “The fastest racer in F1 callin’ me fast. Truly honored.”

A smile plays on his lips, sidestepping and beckoning you in.

You frequently come by Max’s home, for work purposes of course, but you still cannot help but be amazed by the enormity of it every time you enter. Max’s penthouse is twenty times bigger than the apartment you currently live in. One man and a big house—it must be very lonely now that P and Kelly are no longer around. Now, you’re even more worried about what will happen the moment you go back to Texas.

Oh… You still haven't told him yet.

“Coffee,” you hand him the warm styro cup to which he accepts gratefully. He utters his thanks, taking a whiff before sipping, letting out a pleasured moan.

You make your way to his gigantic kitchen, navigating your way through his cabinets in search of a plate and a fork. You slide the cheesecake on the plate towards Max, who followed you to the kitchen and sat on the empty stool in the kitchen counter.

“Thank you,” he says, picking up the fork and taking a bite. He glances at your feet, eyes trained on your YSL. The obnoxious sound of the heels clicking against the floor as you walk probably is the one that caught his attention.

“You know, you've been wearing the same shoes since 2019.”

Points for Max for noticing. These YSL Opyum heels are the first luxury items you bought for yourself after saving for three years to buy one pair. You saw a rich international student wear it once back in university and you liked how sophisticated it looked compared to all the pairs of converse or platform boots you owned. So you made it your life’s goal to own one. In 2019, after doing tons of part time jobs in university and working with Red Bull for a whole year, you managed to buy yourself one on your birthday and you’d been wearing them to work ever since.

Your regular work uniform consists of a Red Bull polo shirt, a pencil or a slit skirt, and that specific pair of heels. Around 2021, you bought another pair to replace the old one because the old one broke. And 2022 again.

“What's wrong with ‘em?” you ask, brows furrowing as you followed his train of sight. Your heels might be a year old already but they still look fine.

Max blinks, “No, there's nothing wrong. Just…Do you think you would want to wear some other design?”

“No,” is your reply. “I like ‘em just the way they are.”

“Okay.”

Your conversation drifts into something else as Max finishes his coffee and cake. You spend the rest of the day in Max’s penthouse, lying on his plush couch while a slasher movie from the 2000s played on his wide TV. He has given you access on his Netflix account so you abused it to your heart’s content because you don't even have. a Netflix subscription. You can absolutely afford one, you just choose not to. You have opted in using your phone mid-movie because the movie is beginning to get real scary but you do not want Max to think you're a coward so you acted like you're disinterested instead.

“Oh look, Charles is also back in Monaco. Do you want to hang out together?” you nudge Max with your foot, who swats it away from him, face contorting in disgust. You show him the post on Charles private IG—yes, you were mutuals in each other's private IG because whoever is friends with Max was friends with you by extension—on your phone.

“Stop makin’ that face, my feet are nice.”

Your toenails are a glorious red now. Ferrari red actually and they suit you better than the Red Bull red. Huh, maybe you should have considered applying for Ferrari instead of Renault in 2018.

“No, it isn't.”

You roll your eyes, pulling it away from him and sitting up, “Do you want me to schedule you a dinner with Charles? You might need the bro time, you know? Dad said bro times are also important, but not as important as family time, of course. My bro broke up with his sweetheart back when I was still in uni and his best buds were the reason he was back up in tippy top shape by the end of the week.”

Max stares at you blankly, “I think I understand the words individually but not the sentence entirely. I don't know if it's the accent or you Americans just have a strange way of structuring your sentences.”

“Point is, hang out with a friend because a friend can help you move on from a pussy.”

Max hurls a throw pillow at your direction, which you luckily avoided thanks to your non-racer level but still considerably good reaction time, but unfortunately, this action causes your center of gravity to shift and before you know it, you're falling from the couch. Unconsciously, you grab Max but then Max doesn't expect that you’ll grab him so now, you’re both falling off the couch and onto the floor.

You groan.

“Fuckin’ ass, man. That was uncalled for.”

He flips you off.

Nevertheless, Max ends up following your advice though and calls Charles to hang out the next day. Lestappen fans should be thanking you on Twitter the next day for bringing those two together on an off-day in Monaco. Maybe they'll hang out and eat together in a restaurant? Maybe they'll go on a yacht picnic?

Except Max sends you a message at high noon.

him: sos

you: is your kitchen burning

him: no

him: but this is still an emergency and you need to come quick

him: he’s with his girlfriend and i don’t want to thirdwheel

you: succ it up

him: you can’t do this to me

him: i just got my heart broken in abu dhabi

you: where are you

him: home

him: i also need help in cooking

Charles is the one who answers the door when you knock. He looks genuinely surprised when he sees you and you deduce that Max hasn't told him that you're coming over.

“Babe, who’s that?” you hear Alex’s voice behind Charles and you light up immediately, quickly moving past Charles to throw your hands around the sweet young woman.

“Alex!” Alexandra laughs and hugs you back. The sound of her laughter is as pretty as she and God definitely has favorites because why did he sculpt this twenty-one year old like the daughter of the Aphrodite while you look like you were born from one of Hephaestus’ sperm that lost the gene pool contest? The world is unfair. You always get the short end of the stick, may it be career-wise or appearance-wise, and you can't even bring your personality to the table because normally, without the whole act of professionalism and sophistication you put on, you act like an extroverted American frat boy on a good day and a sassy drag queen slash war freak on a bad day so yeah, you guess that's the short end of the stick, too.

“Seriously?” you look up and saw Max holding a frying pan, staring at you unimpressed. You roll your eyes and slowly pull away from the hug, gaze returning to Alexandra.

“How’ve you been, sweetie? Been a while since I last saw you.”

You didn't get a chance to talk to her in Abu Dhabi and in Las Vegas.

“Good,” she replies, smiling sweetly and ugh, you want to pinch her cheeks so bad. But Charles is pulling you away from Alexandra before you can do so.

“No, no, she is mine, yours is right over there,” Charles says, pointing at Max, who's still standing there in the corner. “Go on. Shoo.”

You roll your eyes before walking up to Max, “‘Sup?”

Max raises a brow at you, “So Charles’ girlfriend gets a hug and I get a sup?”

“Well, she's Alexandra Saint Mleux and you’re just….” you look him up and down. “Nevermind, what you trynna cook?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“I thought you said you were cooking.”

“I said I needed help with cooking.”

Your eyes narrow into slits, “You’re going to let me do the cooking, aren't you?”

“You know that pasta you made in September that you said was your mother’s recipe?”

A sigh escapes your lips as you roll the sleeves of your button-up to your elbows and power-walked your way to the kitchen, the sound of your YSL heels clicking against the floor bouncing against the walls of Max’s kitchen.

Lunch goes great. Charles and Alexandra love your cooking. Max has even asked for seconds. Good to know that he's eating well. Somewhere down the line, champagne is served even though it’s mid-afternoon and the four of you're sitting in Max’s balcony, staring at Monaco scape below. Thankfully, it is a cloudy day in Monaco. The heat of the sun isn't too harsh on the skin. Despite that, you hand Max a sun screen.

“Sorry about Kelly, by the way,” Alexandra says. Your conversation has drifted towards Max’s failed relationship now.

“That is very nice of you to say,” replies Max, smiling slightly. “But I’m okay.”

You give him a look, clearly unconvinced. Admitting vulnerability gives him hives so he's definitely lying.

“You look too okay for a guy who ended a three-year relationship,” Charles muses and his words get you immediately thinking.

Oh? So they’ve been dating that long? You never noticed.

“Even [Name] looked worse when she broke up with that Williams mechanic two years ago and they dated for like what? Barely a year?”

“Unprovoked!” you exclaim. Alex and Max laugh.

But yeah, Charles is right. When you broke up with Leo in 2021, it was not the prettiest sight. He entered Williams mid-2020 as a mechanic and he immediately caught your attention. He's kind and handsome and a very sweet guy. You have similar interests—engineering—and a similar sense of humor and you just….work so well together, you know? You were sure he was your soulmate the moment he cracked up that Physics pickup line and you know it was the same with him. You swore to God that you’d run away from all the British charming assholes but Leo made you eat your own words and gave you a run for your money.

But alas, 2021 season came and Red Bull Racing became busier than ever because Max and Hamilton got crazily competitive and Max demanded your full attention, needing you as a support system to win.

And Leo. Well, he’s busy, too. Engineers are always busy. But he felt neglected because all your attention was on Max. He felt like he was competing with Max for your attention and it shouldn't even be a competition in the first because Leo was the boyfriend and Max was not. And you cannot even deny that you prioritized Max that year. You wanted Max to win. You needed Max to win, so he can finally ask Horner to move you to the engineering team.

Losing Leo is devastating but Max won the WDC title that year and while you spent nearly a month crying over Leo after the breakup, you're hoping that at least, in 2022, you’ll finally get that damned engineering position at the cost of losing your soulmate. That the tears you shed and the broken heart you carried inside your ribs will be worth it if it was in exchange for your dream. Then, it does not happen. The job isn't given to you and you spent the early months of the 2023 season wishing that you have chosen Leo instead of Max Verstappen.

“You’re still friends with him, right?” Charles turns to you.

“Of course,” you say honestly. You're still mutuals on IG and he still hearts your IG stories at times. You still talk, too, on the freer nights where there's a lot of time to waste. “We ended on good terms.”

“How about you, Max?”

“Can we not talk about this please?”

The four of you empty that bottle of champagne and once the sun has begun retiring for the night, Alex and Charles also left. You're soon to follow, fixing your tote bag and going through the mental checklist in your head so you will not forget anything and not waste energy returning here to pick it up.

“You can stay for dinner.”

Max’s offer surprises you.

“No.”

His face drops as quickly as your answer came.

“You're goin’ to let me cook again.”

“No, I’ll cook.”

You give him an unimpressed look. Clearly, you're not convinced.

“I swear, I’ll cook.”

“What if I get poisoned?”

“You won't get poisoned.”

When you continue staring at him, he sighs.

“Just stay please?”

Of course, you stayed. He asked after all.

You keep your eyes on him as he makes dinner with clumsy hands and a bit of unsureness behind his actions.

“You're goin’ to burn it, honey,” you point out.

“What honey? I didn't put any honey in it.”

You blink. He blinks back.

“You’re gonna give me aneurysm one day.”

Shaking your head, you walk into the bathroom at the end of the enormous hallway, lock the door behind you, lean your back against the door, and slowly slides down until your ass meets the cold bathroom floor. You slap a palm against your forehead and purse your lips to stop a scream from erupting.

God fucking dammit, Max is too adorable back there and this is not doing good things for your heart.

#max verstappen x you #max verstappen #max verstappen x reader #manager!reader #fluff #formula one #formula 1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagines #f1 fanfic #mv1 #mv1 x reader #mv33 #mv33 x reader

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lwwife · 3 months

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Hi!!! Request for Leah (smut), something based on the first time Leah can use the strap properly again after her ACL and she goes to town on reader with it after not being able to do that for so long. They’re still completely switch tho, so some bottom!Leah too.

I've missed having you like this

Smut: Leah and Reader!Switch, strap on, fluff

Word count: 1,870

Leah’s pov:

Y/n and I’s sex life since doing my ACL has been uneventful, to say the least. Y/n has been able to go down on me, but I’ve still had to keep cautious of the way I move my legs. I haven’t been able to touch Y/n properly in a long time. We found a compromise for her to sit on my face, but it rarely happens. I’ve finally hit my 9-month mark since surgery and am back playing almost full games. I have an appointment later this afternoon with the surgeon which should be one of my last. Y/n is going to tag along as she has for all of them. She wants to make sure she knows how to look after me perfectly and I recover well.

“Okay Leah, your scans show an almost perfect recovery, you’ve done incredibly well in rehab and I’m going to clear you for a full 90 minutes.” I grin excitedly and Y/n squeezes my hand.

“Congratulations baby!” she turns to me, “I’m so proud of you.”, I look at her lovingly.

“Yes, you’ve done very well Leah you should be very proud of yourself.” The doctor smiles and nods.

“Excuse me, I just need to pop to the loo” Y/n stands up and kisses my head on the way out. Once the door closes, I turn back to the doctor nervously.

“Is something wrong Leah?”

“No sir it’s just I um I’m not really sure how to ask this” I look down.

“Leah I’ve heard some wild things in my years, please go ahead” He smiles softly.

“Okay well, I um I was just kind of wondering if um I would be able to you know” I raise my eyebrows and he laughs.

“Have sex?”

“Yeah, yes um that” He laughs again.

“Yes, you can, you’re practically cleared for any form of physical activity, except I wouldn’t recommend getting back to your gym time backflips just yet” he grins, and I have to laugh.

“Thank you, sir,”.

Y/n’s pov:

“Darling! Dinner’s nearly ready” I call out to Leah, who’s God knows where doing God knows what. I haven’t seen her since we came home from the doctor, she disappeared upstairs almost immediately. “Leah! babe! Come on I’m serving it up” I shout again.

“Coming bub!” she shouts from the stairs. I turn around to place the food on the table when Leah comes around the corner, hair freshly washed, skin looking clean, and I can smell her perfume from here.

“Nice scrub?” I laugh at her.

“Shush you” She comes over to me and kisses me on the cheek before sitting down. “This looks lovely baby thank you for cooking”.

“You mean like I do every night?” I raise a brow and Leah rolls her eyes and giggles.

“Mmmh” Leah almost moans, “This is delicious y/n” She runs her foot up my bare calf. I raise my eyebrows and almost choke on my wine. She just continues to eat, ignoring my hard stare.

As I’m washing up the dishes Leah comes up behind me wrapping her arms around my waist, slowly leaving kisses along my neck and up to my ear. “What’s gotten into you tonight?” I question her.

“Am I not allowed to touch my beautiful girlfriend?” She takes her hands off me and brings them to her chest, acting offended. I simply roll my eyes and giggle as she walks off to the couch.

I’m lying in Leah’s arms, in between her legs, back against her chest watching our current obsession, Game of Thrones, when Leah begins to run her hand up my thigh. I look up at her, but she continues to look forward, raising her hand higher and higher. “Leah” I whisper.

“What?” she smiles,

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing, what are you doing?”, I cock an eyebrow at her childish response. “Ugh! You can’t take a hint can you?” She whines.

“What are you talking about baby?” I frown.

“I want to fuck you, babe! We haven’t had sex in ages, I’ve been trying to tease you all night! I just had the longest shower of my life, shaving every possible inch of me!”

“Leah, darling, I know I want to too, but you’re still recovering I don’t want to ruin your rehab baby.” I frown at her again, stroking my thumb over her cheek.

“The Doctor said it’s fine” she mumbles.

“What?”

“The Doctor! He said it was fine to have sex” She looks down, “I asked him” She keeps her head low but looks up at me with a pout and a small smile.

“You naughty girl” I whisper.

“Oh yes fuck! “, Leah moans and cums loudly as I suck hard on her clit. “Come here” she orders me, and kisses me hard, tongue diving straight into my mouth. “I want to make you feel good” she groans. “Stay here, I’ll be right back”. I smile, excited. Leah returns a minute later with our favourite strap attached to her.

“Oh shit” I mumble as I feel myself instantly drip.

“Turn around” She orders me, and I turn to get an all fours, just how I know she likes it. She moves me so I'm resting on my forearms instead of my hands, and my face is down into the pillow. She smacks my ass hard and I wince but moan at the feeling. “God I can’t wait to fuck you like this” she growls, spreading me open by the cheeks, moving forward a little more. She smacks my ass again and runs the strap over my clit and down, so it’s completely coated in my wetness. “Do you want me to fuck you baby?” she leans down to my ear, her front against my back.

“Yes please, I want you so bad baby please fuck me”, Leah smacks my ass one more time before she slowly thrusts the strap inside me. I moan loudly, instantly feeling the pleasure I’ve so badly craved. “Fuck! Yes, keep going” I pant, my entire body tingling. Leah's thrusts start to speed up and become more forceful.

“Yeah? You like that baby?” She growls into my ear.

“Yes! Yes! Fuck yes! Oh, you fuck me so good” I moan. Leah moves back so she’s no longer against my back and grabs at my hips roughly. She begins to slam into me, harder and harder. I moan so loud I begin to feel sorry for our neighbours. I scream and scream and scream while Leah continues to groan and tell me what a good girl I’m being. After one last hard thrust, I cum all over the strap and begin to drip down my thighs. I wince and groan at the feeling of Leah removing the strap from me.

“Shhhh it’s okay baby, I know” She hushes and turns me over so I’m on my back. She kisses my head softly and lays down next to me. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed that; I’ve been dying to fuck you like that for months.”

“Yeah, well you better not ever stop,” I whisper. “Take it off” I look down at the strap. Leah looks at me confused, as if she was waiting to go another round on me. “I’ll let you go again later you addict, let me have a turn”, I move closer to her and begin to undo the harness. I strip her of the strap and put it on myself. Leah lays, patiently, a small smile visible on her face, waiting for me to climb on top of her. I sit up and rest my back against the headboard. “Come sit” I demand. Leah almost jumps at the chance. Moving over she places herself onto my stomach, subtly grinding, her wetness coating my abdomen. I move my hands to run over her breast, we aren’t quite at eye level so she’s looking down at me, however, we both know I have all the power at this moment. I squeeze her breasts and she throws her head back. I pinch her nipples then move forward to kiss her chest. Her hands immediately find their way to my hair, pushing me in further. I lick and suck all over her chest, biting and pulling softly at her nipples. Leah’s grinding starts to get quicker, so I stop.

“Ride it,” I say simply. Leah doesn’t hesitate to move back, hovering herself over the strap, which is still wet from me. “Now sit,” I tell her. Leah slowly sits onto the strap, her mouth instantly opening, angelic noises escaping. Once she fills herself with the whole thing I grab onto her hips and begin to guide her up and down. As she moves faster her moans get louder, and her breasts jump in front of me. “Fuck you’re so good, taking it all for me” I growl at her.

“God, you feel so good, baby. Fuck!” She screams out and her motions quicken. She grabs onto my shoulder, scratching into my skin, “I’m going to cum, oh fuck!” She continues to scream, louder and louder until she finally collapses. Her body is exhausted and almost limp so I turn us over so she’s lying down, and I can pull out. She whines at the loss of contact and pants heavily. I remove the strap and quickly go to the bathroom, wash it and put it away. I return to Leah awaiting me, smiling. “I forgot how good it is when you fuck me” she grins.

“I won’t ever let you forget again” I whisper as we lean in for a sweet kiss. Hands wondering, eager for another round.

A/n: Hope this was okay and everyone enjoyed it! Feedback is welcome in my comments, messages, or asks! 😊

#leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #leah williamson imagine #wlw #awfc #woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso one shot #lionesses #leahwilliamsonsmut #wososmut

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inkdrinkerworld · 6 months

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sirius thought 4 u! he gives the best hickeys (I would know)!!!!!! he’s always gentle at first but eventually gets really rough (not that you mind) and ends up marking you up so vividly that his friends accuse him of attempted murder….. “sirius I know you’re half-dog mate but you didn’t have to maul her 🤨”

MAL YES!! cw: hickeys, heavy petting

You should’ve known that Sirius’ ‘just a kiss’ was a lie.

It’s always a lie. But a delicious one.

You’re positioned flat on your back, Sirius laying over you with his head buried in your neck.

He’d been on you from the moment you’d come home, something about, “Tha’ fucking perfume puppy,” and he’d only moved twice.

Once to take you from against the wall in the living room to the bedroom, and then to get your top off and across the room.

“Siri,” you pant, chin held up by one of his hands as he sucks and nips at your neck.

You’re sure the mole under your neck is surrounded by red bites, along with the column of your neck.

“Hm?” He doesn’t even lift his head, instead his mouth and tongue trail- a wet track left in its wake as he starts nipping at your collarbones.

“You’re marking too much,” your voice trails off in a pleased sigh as his tongue leaves over the stinging bite marks. “Of me.” You finish breathlessly and Sirius smiles against your skin.

“I hardly think I marked you, puppy.” He says, but there’s something devilish in that smirk on his face.

You look down at your chest, finding heart shaped bruises forming and glare at Sirius. “What do you call these then?”

You’re hardly upset, you just know they’re going to be a bitch to cover.

“Nibbles,” Sirius thinks himself a comedian the way his laughs shake his frame. “C’mon dolly, we gotta start getting ready.”

He doesn’t even let you get up, Sirius spends twenty minutes biting and sucking at your thighs before letting you get up.

Your skirt and top do nothing to hide the marks left by your boyfriend. Not that you mind.

“Oh my god,” Lily squeals as she sees you, hands reaching to touch your neck and collarbones. “Did he try eating you?”

Sirius looks ever so smug. Chin tipped up proudly. “It’s called showing affection, Evans. Don’t forget you had those not two weeks ago from your boyfriend.”

Everyone notices the marks and their stares and comments make you flush every time- much to Sirius’ amusement.

It’s Remus’ comment that has you hiding your face in Sirius’ neck though, “Good grief Pads, I know you call her puppy, but it seems more accurate to you though; doesn’t it?”

“I think you look good owned, puppy.” He whispers which makes you go hot under his chin.

#siriusblack #sirius black one shot #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black imagine #sirius black blurb #sirius black drabble #sirius black fluff #sirius black x black!reader #sirius black x yn #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #sirius black x reader #sirius black fic

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leesjuicycalves · 19 days

Text

*Pics from pinterest.

Even

Pairing:Idol Hyunjin x female reader

Hyunjin, after his busy evening remembers he has a score to settle with Minho and he won't let anything stop him. Especially not the excuse of being exhausted, he just has to get even with him.

Minors Do Not Interact

It was all another hustle when you guys landed. The media at the airport, the crazy fans, the checking in, all of it was stressful. Celebrities of all kinds were everywhere, you swore you had never been around that many famous people at one go. The hotel was booked to the max, being that it was fashion week in Paris. It seemed prestigious enough and it was hella busy when you guys arrived late in the afternoon. There was no time to waste, the fashion show would begin in the next four hours so that meant Hyunjin was out and about again. After a quick shower in his shared room with you, he proceeded to go for the fitting and preparation of his outfit while you stayed back in the room. The staff had already picked an outfit for you so you had time to rest before getting ready for the main event, you took a well-deserved nap and only woke up when you had received a call from Felix at around 5pm. His timing was perfect since it was almost time for you to start getting ready anyways. You had texted Hyunjin earlier to check up on him, but seeming that he hadn’t replied or called meant that he was truly very busy, “I’ll see him at the fashion show anyways.” You tell yourself as you make your way to the dressing room.

Three hours, three fucking hours of siting around, cameras flashing on his face, shaking hands, signing autographs, answering to interviews, smiling so much that he was sure his lips were stuck in a smiling form and he still had to attend an after party. Hyunjin was exhausted, he truly was. Yes it was his job but it got hectic and overwhelming sometimes. To make matters worse he hadn’t seen you the whole while, well he had from a distance, but to him that just wasn’t enough. He had spent the whole night surrounded by pretty superstars and models groping all over him yet you evidently took over his mind. The first time he saw you that night was when you were taking an autograph photo with Rosy Zhao and you looked absolutely stunning in that billowy dress that perfectly embraced your svelte figure, cinched at your slender waist. Your radiant skin peeking out of the thigh high slit on you right leg and your collar bone being accentuated by the diamond necklace around it. He wasn’t even sure he understood what Dua, was saying to him, if that was even her name. He didn’t quite get her name, too distracted by the sight of you. He hoped you’d come around at the after party, for him, even if you didn’t like being around that many people.

You on the other hand had decided to go back to the hotel after the show, too tired to interact with more people and too sore to walk around in your heels, parties weren’t your thing anyways so Hyunjin would understand if he wouldn’t see you there. Besides he’d be too busy signing more brand labels and deals with that pretty face of his. You settle on taking a long relaxing shower then maybe waiting for him, that is, if you don’t fall asleep. Hyunjin comes back at around 1am and luckily he finds you awake, just about ready to head to bed.

“Hey you,” you greet him with a smile as you sit upright on the edge of the bed.

“Missed you so fucking much,” he says as he makes his way towards you in between your legs.

You hug his waist chuckling and you can feel his hands in your hair scratching your scalp softly.

“But I was with you, for most of the night,” you say laying back into the mattress while pulling him to lay a top of you.

“Most of it. Not all of it. And technically you weren’t there there,” he whines burying his head in the crook of your neck making you inhale the sweet smell of his hair and perfume mixed with tints of alcohol most definitely from the party. You feel his lips on your neck pecking and smooching, you giggle and place your hand at the nape of his neck playing with the hairs there.

He then abruptly moves to prop himself up on his arms that now lay on each side of your head, looking down at you with lidded eyes. You assume he wants a kiss so you wrap your arms around his neck but he doesn’t come closer only staring at you like he’s seeing you for the very first time.

“Why’d you take it off?” he suddenly asks caressing your cheek.

“Mmmh?”

“The dress, you looked pretty tonight,” he says and finally reaches down to kiss at the side of your lips. You chuckle at his cute antics, he seems a little tipsy, but you go along with it anyway.

“I needed to shower Hyune,”

“You could have waited till I got back, so I can look at you properly then take it off myself.” His lips are still attached to your skin so his words come out all mumbled up but you understand him nonetheless. You try to get him off you but he only repositions himself back to your neck this time licking at it with his warm tongue.

“You should go wash up,” you tell him softly even though you’re also enjoying the proximity of him.

“Mm-mmh, am clean. Don’t need to,” he speaks against you’re neck and it kind of tickles resulting to more giggles coming out of you. You feel his hand snake into your rob and you’re glad he settles at just placing his hand on top of your breast. You both stay in silence for a while and you think he’s fallen asleep but he moves his long legs so he can lay comfortably on top of you and gives you’re breast a light squeeze and you know he’s awake.

“I talked to the guys earlier, they said you did good,” you begin in a whisper too scared to break the sweet comfortable silence you were in. Hyunjin does nothing but hum, an indication that he’s listening.

“Chan says you’re English has gotten a lot better and Felix also thinks the same thing. But Minnie said he could outdo you in an English test any day,” you chuckle remembering how Seungmin was adamant on proving his point earlier over the phone.

“Binnie, like the simp he is, said you looked like a prince. I.N said you could have chosen better jewelry,” this time he’s the one to chuckle amused by your tone when you go ahead and mention how Changbin didn’t even care to complement your look that evening.

“Han said you looked hot and pretty and he wasn’t wrong,” he squeezes the breast that has his hand over it and you wince, you can feel him smiling against your neck. You have no idea whether what he’s doing is intentional or it’s just the alcohol speaking to him but you don’t wanna entertain his antics further since you know he needs rest. Hyunjin is now lightly nibbling slightly at your neck, his thumb swiping over your now hardened nipple. You try not to have any reaction, focusing your thoughts back to what you were telling him earlier.

“Lee Know said….” You breathe in really harshly as he’s now groping at your breast and biting harder sure enough to leave a mark on your neck. “He said that he’ll hold back on your tissue diet this month since you did so great at the fashion show.” You end the sentence with a chuckle that comes out louder than intended, Hyunjin is now rutting on your lower abdomen and there’s no way you cannot make any sound.

“Hyune I don’t think we should do this, youre tired,” you say breathless as you try to get him off you. He lifts himself up and his demeanor has totally changed, eyes hooded with nothing but lust staring intently at you.

“Did I tell you I was tired?” he asks flatly and you shake your head.

“Good. Now kiss me,” he smashes your lips together rather harshly, sucking and biting. When you feel his teeth graze you’re lower lip your lips part in a muffled moan at which he takes his chance and prods his tongue into you exploring every bit of your mouth. You can now clearly taste the alcohol in his mouth a subtle nuance of ginger wine, probably from a Whisky Mac cocktail. You suck on his tongue to relish on the taste more. You feel him shift above you, lips moving lower to your chin then your collarbone, his hand that was previously fondling your breast moving alongside his other tracing the curves of your hips then moving to grab your arms laying by your sides.

You suddenly yelp when he tugs at them and traps them over your head with one arm, surprised and confused at his actions. His other hand hurriedly takes off his waist belt and he makes haste to tie your hand to the headboard.

“Hyunjin?” you hesitantly call him but he’s way too focused in rolling his tongue from your neck all the way down to your abdomen. Your thighs want to press against each other at the proximity of his face to your cunt but he pushes them open with a growl.

“Keep ‘em open,” he grumbles right in front of your sex and you whine inexplicably loud. Without warning, he pushes his tongue onto your clit, drawing mindless patterns in a somewhat harsh and rough pace.

Sucking and licking with all his might, you feel his front teeth graze over your nub and you try to wiggle back away from him but that seems to make him madder than he already his pulling you back flush against his face. You have no idea what's happened in that short amount of time you were laying together with him in peace, all you know now is that Hyunjin is definitely ticked off about something and you have no idea what it is. All you know is that he supposedly settled on taking it out on your cunt. His lips that would always softly and tenderly kiss at your folds, now harshly sucking like there’s no tomorrow. His warm tongue that would lazily yet so satisfyingly lick a long stripe up your cunt now pokes eagerly at your entrance and all you can do is writhe and mewl under his rushed intense touch.

You feel his movements abruptly stop and he comes into your view once again taking off the improvised restraints he had around your arms, you wince as he takes them off but it seemed that he could care less about that immediately flipping you over to lay on your stomach.

“Hyunjin, I….What’s gotten-”

He cuts you off by grabbing your hips and arching you so that your ass is in the air, he then proceeds to grabyour hands and holds them behind your back.

Hyunjin also didn’t quite understand what had gotten into him, the mere mention of Lee Know ticked him off immediately and he remembered that he had to prove a point. He wasn’t jealous that’s for sure, nor was he mad that you decided to let him play with you with during your flight when he was right there with you. He just didn’t see sense in getting off to Minho, who was probably a thousand feet and miles away by them, when he was right there, barely two meters apart. He wasn’t mad, he wasn’t jealous, he just had to prove a point since Minho was kind enough to rub it in his face that he had made you squirt and all while being so very far away.

“Mmmphh,” you bite back what seems to be a moan and a wail as Hyunjin thrusts his long thick cock inside your hole, not giving you time to adjust he begins moving back and forth clawing at your wrists with the hand that’s holding you back. You swear you can feel his tip poking at your cervix when his hips clash with yours, the sound of skin clapping against skin punctuating the room. You wanna hold on to something but you can’t, you wanna claw onto the sheets so bad but Hyunjn’s got your hands caged behind your back, you settle on digging your nails into your palms too taken aback by the pleasure Hyunjin is so aggressively unleashing on you. But you’re not complaining.

You feel his hips slow down and you reflexively whine at his actions, you feel his chest press against your back and you wonder what he’s gonna do next. Maybe, a little bit of most of you wants him to choke you. Your wish, sadly doesn’t come true as his hand moves past you to the dressing table beside your bed and he grabs his phone. You’re getting impatient now so you push your ass back and start fucking yourself on his dick hoping you’d get the kind of stimulation you so badly needed.

Hyunjin catches up to this and his grip tightens on your arms pressing them down on your back so that it arcs further. You hear the clicking sound of the phone’s camera and some sort of evil chuckle coming from Hyunjin then the phone lands beside your sideways pressed face on the bed and he’s back at it again, fucking into you like a mad man.

“Hy-Hyunjin….i-I’m gonna c-cum,” you announce as you squirm underneath him. Your arms are starting to hurt and you desperately need to grab something about now as you feel your walls tightening and clenching around his throbbing cock.

“Fucking hold still,” He grits through his teeth finally letting go of your wrists only to grab much tighter at your hips, fingertips digging deep into your skin. You feel his hips falter but you can’t hold it that long, you end up releasing just a minute before him with a loud shriek of his name as he also curses out in his release then immediately collapses at your side.

With the little strength you have left in you, you reach out for his phone that lays beside you.

‘Now were even Min-hoe😏💦,’ this is what is written right below a picture of your arced back and bound hands.

You tiredly turn to face him and he’s already grinning at you

“We keep going till you squirt.” He says and pulls your body closer to his caressing your slightly bruised wrists. You don’t know whether to thank Minho or scold him when you get back but you’re happy Hyunjin’s making up for him being busy lately.

#stray kids #hyunjin #skz x reader #hyunjin x reader #stray kids x you #skz imagines #hyunjin smut #hyunjin x y/n #indie thoughts #stray kids smuts #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x reader

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ultrone · 12 days

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𓂅 fucking needy step-sister!jackie late at night

tags no pronouns, cheating, fingering, vibrator use.

it was 2 in the morning, and you tiptoed down the hallway, taking care not to wake anyone else in the house. the faint sound of snoring echoed through the walls, indicating that your parents were fast asleep. you reached jackie’s room and opened the door slowly, finding her lying on her bed, her back facing you.

as quietly as you could be, you swiftly slid under her covers, settling comfortably close to her and hugging her tightly by the waist, pulling her flush against you.

jackie jolted awake when you slipped into bed behind her, a soft gasp escaping her lips as you started to slowly kiss her jawline. her hands gripped the sheets tightly as the warmth of your body pressed against her. “i missed you so much today,” she breathed, trying to contain her excitement.

"i missed you too, jax," you whispered, pulling her impossibly closer to you as your lips started to kiss the soft skin on her neck.

she squirmed under your embrace, attempting to slide your hand between her legs. you could feel how wet she was through her shorts.

"please?" jackie whined, her hands grasping at your wrists, tugging gently. "i've been thinking about this all day..."

you sighed softly, unable to resist the desperation in her voice. slowly, you slipped your hand beneath the waistband of her shorts, feeling the heat radiating from her core. your fingers brushed gently against her damp folds, making her moan. her hips bucked wildly into your touch, seeking more pressure. with each brush of your fingers, her breath hitched, and her nails dug deeper into your arms.

"please– harder," she begged, her voice shaking. you followed her request, pressing slightly firmer against her swollen folds. the smell of her arousal consumed the small space between you both, mixing with the scent of her shampoo and perfume.

her breathing became ragged, sweat forming on her forehead. she was trembling, every inch of her begging for relief. you leaned over her, whispering into her ear, "does jeff make you feel this good?"

jackie's eyes widened, her cheeks flushing red at the mention of his name. she quickly denied it, shaking her head vehemently. "no, no, he doesn't. no one makes me feel this way except you," she whispered hoarsely, arching into your touch. "it's just always so rushed, he always wants to do it his way, never takes time for what i want or need," she admitted with a deep sigh.

your thumb brushed against her clit, eliciting a sharp whine from her. her head threw back against the pillow, and a soft cry escaped her lips. you smirked, knowing you had full control over her pleasure then.

"tell me what feels good," you insisted, your warm breath against her ear as your finger circled her sensitive spot.

"mmh… inside," she panted, grinding herself against your hand. "put your fingers inside me," she pleaded, begging for the release she desperately craved.

slowly, you inserted a finger into her wet entrance, coating it in her slickness. she groaned softly, shivering under your light thrusts. you added another finger, feeling how she stretched around them, slightly wider than before. her nails raked down your forearm, digging into your skin to keep herself grounded in reality.

"is that better, baby?" you asked, leaning down to kiss her temple.

"yes, yes, keep going," she insisted. you complied, increasing your pace to match her urgency. she rocked her hips, meeting your thrusts with her own movements. soon enough, you felt her muscles tightening around your fingers, her breath hitching as she reached her climax. her words turned into gibberish, a mix of your names and nonsensical phrases causing your heart to race.

as jackie caught her breath, you reached over to the nightstand where her vibrator was discreetly stashed inside her first cabinet. picking it up, you turned it on and handed it to her. recognition flickered in her eyes, her hand trembling as she accepted it from you.

"use it, show me how you like it," you instructed, observing as her eyes widened in anticipation. she hesitated for a moment, shooting a nervous glance in your direction.

"do it," you urged, your tone firm.

reluctantly, she positioned herself on her back as you removed the covers from her body, ensuring they didn't obstruct your view. slowly, she began teasing her entrance with the toy before smoothly sliding it inside her.

she closed her eyes, her brows furrowing as you sensually massaged her lower abdomen with your wet fingers. "fuck, you have no idea how much i needed this," she mumbled, biting her lower lip. her thighs quivered, her entire body shaking as she chased another orgasm.

with a sly smirk, you sat up and took the vibrator away from her grasp. she weakly protested, but you disregarded her pleas. turning on the vibrator, you inserted it back into her pussy, positioning it precisely where she needed it most. you watched as her eyes rolled back, her body arching involuntarily. her nails lightly scratched at the sheets as you adjusted the settings, intensifying the sensation.

"oh, god..." jackie breathed, her voice laced with surprise and pleasure. she attempted to grab your wrist, but you skillfully evaded her grasp, controlling the pace at your own discretion. with each adjustment, she edged closer to another mind-blowing orgasm, while your thumb skillfully flicked over her now swollen clit.

"don’t stop! don’t stop," she begged, her legs trembling.

"shhh, be quiet. we don’t want our parents to wake up, do we?" you whispered against her lips as you continued to tease her, orchestrating her pleasure until she became a writhing mess beneath you. her breathing quickened, each gasp punctuating the silence of the room.

"come for me," you ordered, turning it up one final notch. she cried out, her body convulsing as the orgasm washed over her once more. this time, her eyes were open, locked onto yours as she rode the waves of ecstasy.

#𓏲 📂 ⋮ my works .ᐟ #꒰ smut ꒱ 🔞#jackie taylor x reader #jackie taylor x you #jackie taylor x y/n #jackie taylor smut #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you #yellowjackets x y/n #yellowjackets smut #minors dni

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mitsies · 1 year

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proposal ; satoru gojo

gojo satoru proposes quite often. each time, it all goes terribly wrong.

satoru gojo x gn reader, proposal, established relationship, parenthood (later!!), dad!gojo, 5+1 trope, so much fluff!!!

the first time gojo satoru asks you to marry him, he ends up nearly choking to death. he recalls it with a faux bitterness, and you with indignance and a tinge of amusement.

it was a fancy dinner restaurant, with low-hanging chandeliers and the aroma of obnoxious perfumes. people clothed in dressy designer gowns and suits flocked the bar and tables. you watched them as you sipped your drink, wondering what they were doing here tonight.

"that man with the red spotted tie? i bet the younger lady he's with is his mistress."

gojo's words made you choke back a laugh. his voice was low, to avoid anyone overhearing. he smiled at how your lips pursed to hide your smile.

this was your favorite game- you would find a person to observe, eyeing them, and gojo would follow your gaze. he'd then create a backstory for them- a game of fill-in-the-blank based on their actions and appearance.

the both of you would often go on fancy dinner dates (with gojo being vain and rich and enjoying dressing up, and with you benefitting from him being happy,) but today was a more momentous occasion. it was the two of you's 6th anniversary of dating.

you weren't expecting much, nor did you want a lot. just the regular flowers, sub-par wine, and overpriced food would do. you were content with his presence and no greater plans.

gojo, however, had other ideas for today. without your knowledge, he'd coordinated with the kitchen staff to create a secret proposal scheme- and he did a damn good job if he said so himself.

a large, gaudy, and expensive ring was stowed away inside a cupcake of your favorite flavor. there'd be two to share, and when you bit into it, you'd discover his proposal and say yes. that was gojo's plan, anyways.

when the plate of sweet treats were brought out, they just looked too good. gojo couldn't help but have his right away too- after all, it was best to avoid suspicion, right? so he popped the whole thing into his mouth like a pill.

and gagged. loudly.

a piece of fine silver, an immaculately cut and expensive diamond, and the tiny lapis lazuli studs in the form of a gaudy engagement ring was lodged in his throat.

at this point in the story, gojo typically pretends to forget what happened afterward. you would laugh and explain to the audience that he did, in fact, have to get heimlich-maneuvered by an elderly man. he ended up spitting out the ring and you never even knew it was there, assuming he was choking on his overly-chewy steak.

that date ended with an unpaid bill, apologetic staff, and an embarrassed couple. 'an ultimate success', gojo would chime into your story, since he 'got you in the end'.

you'd snort a laugh and push his shoulder playfully. 'more like an ultimate fuck-up', you'd smile. he would grin right back at you, brighter than a diamond.

the second time gojo satoru proposes, you get hit by a car.

it's a warm, sleepy day in thailand. gojo opted to take you with him as his plus one to some stuffy clan event being held there. instead of attending the event fully, though, the two of you decide to leave 10 minutes in to roam the unfamiliar streets.

the sun is about to set and it's held in the sky by the clouds, cradling it like a child. the world is alight with oranges and the streets are quiet. it's an abandoned little town, the one you end up in.

the buildings are dilapidated and birds nest in the rafters of old structures. graffiti decorates the walls and empty boxes line the streets. vines and flowers and grasses bloom and blossom through the cracks and creases of the decaying village, like nature was reaching back into the world to take what was hers.

your formal wear was itchy on your skin but you really didn't mind, as you laughed like a fool as satoru made stupid joke after stupid joke. his smile was enough to rival the setting sun as he beamed at you as if he'd never seen anything more beautiful.

gojo, who'd been a few paces ahead of you, falls into step next to you before grabbing your hand to get you to stop walking.

he says your name and it's more gently than usual. "look at the sky," he whispers, like it's a secret.

you look up to the expanse of tumbling clouds and the streaks of dusk and you're left breathless by the unusual serenity of it.

"it's not half as pretty as you." gojo is so quiet you almost can't hear him, but you smile a little. you turn, about to make fun of him for being cheesy and cliche, and then it's all a blur- you see satoru, on the floor for some reason? and you hear jingling and satoru shouts something and- 'bam!' gojo would pantomime, gesturing an explosion with his hands.

you'd roll your eyes before continuing the story. an elderly driver with a done-up and ancient, creaky, rickshaw had slammed you into the pavement and kept on driving.

you lay, dazed, back on the ground. gojo appeared in your vision, blurry and doubled. panic is prominent on his face, and you feel his hands on you.

for a few minutes, as gojo tries to manage both his own anger at the old driver and the fact that his partner just got hit by a rickshaw going at 100 miles per hour.

he helps you sit up, and you do so slowly. you're still seeing doubles of everything and the word is spinning and your head hurts like hell, but you don't think your bleeding, and gojo is slowly coming back into focus so you're probably, maybe okay.

'it was traumatizing,' gojo would narrate, 'blood everywhere, guts on the floor, everything.'

you'd smack gojo's shoulder and he'd cackle like a fool.

'it wasn't bad,' you would state, 'he's making it seem like i was on the verge of death. i was not.'

'i was not,' gojo mimicked. you'd shove your shoulder into him and he laughed, wrapping an arm around your waist.

this story ends with you in the hospital with a minor concussion and gojo stashing the engagement ring in his suit pocket and tucking it into the depths of his overly-stuffed suitcase.

'god, you getting hit by a car-'

'rickshaw,' you corrected, 'not a car.'

gojo side-eyed you. 'like i said, a car, was so inconvenient.'

you glare at him, and you hear your audience laugh. 'next time, the car is going to be hitting you. and it won't be just a concussion.'

attempt number 3 is less painful for you, but incredibly embarrassing for gojo.

it's snowing on the school campus. you and satoru observed as maki beat the shit out of yuta, as per usual. you wince as a particularly brutal blow strikes him.

"jesus, she's not holding back."

gojo smiles. "i wouldn't want her to. how else is he meant to learn?"

you raise an eyebrow. "i'm surprised you're allowed to be a teacher."

"me too!"

the silence pursuing your words is comfortable, the only thing breaking being the loud smacks coming from the field until gojo says:

"i'm sure they'll be fine. want to go for a walk?"

you tsk as he stands from the bench you are both sitting on. "now, what kind of teacher would that make you, satoru?"

"one with priorities."

you smile and take his extended hand. "damn right."

your walk is quiet. neither of you speaks much, and you're both happy that way. sometimes, silence is lovely.

gojo is not quiet around many. he is, by nature, loud, and that is something he hadn't grown out of. you feel a little blessed that he can find it in himself to be peaceful when you're around, though.

he's holding your gloved hand but you can still feel the cold emanating from his palm as he leads you through a grove of leafless trees, just behind the school campus.

"i love the snow," he says at some point.

you hum in agreement and steal a glance at him. satoru looks angelic in this scene, under a snow-filled tree, like a heavenly deity that you had the honor of encountering.

you turn your face so he doesn't see you staring. you've been together for years at this point, but you don't feel like embarrassing yourself at this moment.

when satoru lets go of your hand, though, you turn back around from your faux-examination of the winter scenery- just in time to see a big cloud of snow from the tree drop onto gojo's head.

he collapses from his place on the ground (why was he on the ground?), and he looks like a surprised deer. only his head peeks through the pile of white around him.

you stare for a beat before breaking out into laughter, so hard it makes your ribs hurt- and in the distance, you hear even more people laughing. you glance around to see the current 1st-years, yuta, maki, inumaki, and panda doubled over in laughter. panda had a phone out, presumably recording the whole scene.

'i should've killed him,' gojo grumbled, and you snort.

'too bad. he'd already sent the video to everyone, so that wouldn't really help your case.'

'maybe it's not too late.'

'i think it is. it's all okay though, right? because it all worked out in the end?'

you batted your lashes and gojo huffed at your blatant mockery of his previous words.

'well, i suppose you were worth it all. just barely, though.'

the final failed proposal was gojo's last ditch attempt at making it romantic.

it's your average day, about 6 months after the last mishap. spring flowers blossom all around your little picnic blanket as you smooth it over the grass. satoru places the basket over in the corner and began to unpack it.

it was one of the rare days when you both had a little time off, so in honor of the good weather, you and satoru opted to spend a while outside.

what you don't know is that satoru has a skywriter scheduled to come out in 5 minutes, to pull across a banner asking you to marry him.

and what satoru doesn't know is that the company he'd booked had a 2-star yelp rating.

so, when the skywriter dances across the blue canvas with a grey trail of letters following it, your name is spelled wrong. very wrong. to the point where it's unrecognizable.

"gertrude, will you marry me?"

you read out the words the skywriter spelled out, and smile dumbly. gojo wants to gouge his eyes out. "good for gertrude. strange name, though."

and then it starts raining. like, really raining. torrents of water rush down from the sky out of nowhere, soaking the both of you in a matter of moments.

"okay, well," gojo tries to conceal his disappointment, "i guess this was kind of a bust."

but you smile at him and he's not too upset anymore, because how could he be?

"there's always next time, satoru. could you help me with the stuff?"

the both of you rush to clean up your picnic. and then, you hear a rumble of thunder in the distance.

the hairs on the back of your neck rise and you think satoru feels it too because he grabs your hand and tugs you away. "i think we should go-"

a loud, crackling noise followed by an astonishingly bright light strikes the place where your picnic blanket used to lay. a small stream of smoke billows, before its vanquished by the water.

gojo looks at you. you look at him. and wordlessly, the both of you leave the park as quickly as you can.

(what neither of you realizes is that a little box with an over-the-top engagement ring was left abandoned at the park that day, never to be seen again.)

without the engagement ring, gojo isn't quite sure what he's meant to do.

he could try again. he could buy another one. but honestly, the demotivation he's feeling wouldn't do anything for his proposal skills. he is feeling very much slumped.

it's a week after the picnic fiasco, and life has been as normal for you. but for gojo, he's been stressing over everything for what feels like an eternity.

it's the last friday of springtime when he comes home from teaching to you laying on the couch. you're reading a book with a red cover in your flannel pajama pants and his oversized t-shirt. you look so good, and gojo doesn't know what to do with himself so he just stares at you from the doorway like some creep before entering your shared apartment.

he calls out a greeting to you and you reply in kind, asking how his day was. he keeps the conversation going as he showers, calling out his replies. he returns in his own overpriced loungewear and slides next to you on the couch.

he lays his head on your lap, looking up at you. you diligently and wordlessly rearrange to make this more comfortable for both of you.

the last rains of spring are pounding against the windows of your home, and the sky outside is dark blue. the yellow lighting of the lamp casts a warm glow on the two of you, and gojo thinks it brings out your eyes, and he doesn't know what he's saying when he says it but it's spoken nonetheless:

"i want to marry you."

you don't react in the slightest, flipping the page of the book you're reading and working your free hand through gojo's hair. but he doesn't miss how your movements falter for a moment, just a second.

"haha. funny."

gojo sits up. you're looking at him now, and he sees a flicker of confusion flit across your face.

"i'm serious. i mean it."

you blink. "you want to marry me."

he nods.

"oh."

"so..." gojo scoots back from you on the couch, so he's not in your face. "this is me proposing."

and then he waits. he waits for the burglar to come in and shoot both of you in the face. he waits for the microwave oven to explode in the kitchen and set the apartment on fire. he waits for the ceiling to collapse and bury you both in the rubble. he waits for you to say no.

"then i guess this is me saying yes."

but he is waiting for nothing. he smiles at you, so brightly that he could illuminate the stormy nighttime sky. and you kiss him, this boy made of diamond, as if he's going to disappear.

'i was so smooth, you can't lie,' gojo said with a stupid smirk.

'you're right, i can't lie. and you weren't smooth. at all.'

two little voices giggle and your heart was infinitely warmed.

you and satoru were sat telling your story to your young kids, aged 6 and 7. it was late on a wednesday, and you'd run out of stories to tell, so you resorted to the undoubtedly entertaining tale behind your engagement.

'you're so silly, dad!' said your 6-year-old daughter shigure. she had recently learned what the word 'silly' meant, so obviously it had to be used in every sentence ever. 'so so silly!

satoru ruffled her hair and you were taken for a moment at how similar the two were.

your 7-year-old son, fuyuki, interjected. 'i'm too old for bedtime stories now but i like this one i guess.'

you raised an eyebrow. 'oh, really? i guess we won't read you them anymore. y'know, since you're too old and cool for them-'

'no! i was just kidding!'

you snort. 'okay. i see.'

satoru stood and you followed suit, wishing the children goodnight before shutting off the lights in their room.

your husband sighed before stretching and cracking his back. he winced at the sound.

'you really are getting old,' you said lightly. he glared at you playfully.

'says the one whose hearing is giving out already.'

you waved a finger at him. 'that is a direct result of getting hit by a car-'

'rickshaw,' satoru corrected.

'a car,' you repeated, 'which, by the way, is technically all your fault.'

satoru groaned as you both made your way to your own bedroom. 'that was forever ago.'

'still feels like yesterday.'

'sure it does, grandpa.'

you were, at this point, by your bedside. so you threw a pillow at him.

he (almost) caught it and threw it back onto your bed. 'get in, spouse #1.'

you exhaled a breath of laughter. 'you first, #2.'

the night was cold as you slid in after satoru, and in all honesty, he was even colder, but you couldn't find it in yourself to care.

your head laid close to his chest and you could feel the rising and falling of his breathing. you tried to match it.

'i'm glad i asked you.'

his voice was out of nowhere. you raised your head to look at him inquisitively.

'i mean,' he amended, 'i'm glad this is how things ended up. really glad.'

you thought about your life. you thought about how you met, about the restaurant anniversary, about the crazed rickshaw driver, about the video of gojo losing to the snow, about the lightning and your failed picnic, about the rain against the windows and the color of the book you were reading, about everything from then til now.

there were so many words you could have said to tell him about how much you agreed. but you opt to return your head to his chest and listen to his heartbeat.

'i'm glad too,' is all you said. he already knew.

the name shigure means rainshower in late summer, winter, or autumn.

the name fuyuki means wintery tree.

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1800-lemonadeg1rl · 13 days

Text

Anyone other than you

Minors dni!! Masterlist°•☆

Summary- You and your supposed "enemy" get stuck in a cupboard while on a duo mission

Warnings- violence, gunshots, emo Wanda, mean Wanda, forced proximity, claustrophobia, confusion, not proofread!!

A/n - I dont know whether I hate this tbhhh idk whether it's because it took me sm breaks to write it but it feels off idkk

You entered the quinjet while sighing to yourself. How did you let this happen? You thought as you buckled on your seatbelt. Getting put on a duo mission with the one woman on the team who hates your guts. Wanda Maximoff.

You never had any idea what you'd done to make her despise you so much but nothing you ever did seemed to make up for it. Everytime you spoke in a meeting you could feel her stare digging into your soul. The way she'd scowl when she entered what she'd presume to be an empty room only to find you inside. She'd always mumble something in a language you didn't understand before flouncing out the room. Things weren't any better when you were part of a group with her either. She'd barely respond if you asked her something or flat out ignore you.

It wasn't like you hadn't tried to get along with her either, trying to be as friendly with her as you were with everyone else. Offering to make her food, help her with household chores or help out with her mission reports but nothing you did ever seemed to stop her from glaring at you. She wasn't known to be the most outgoing person but you never saw her act this way with anyone else so eventually you gave up deciding it best to ignore her the way she did you.

Now, unfortunately you didn't have that luxury anymore. You'd begged and begged Tony not to put you on this duo mission even contemplating getting ill to avoid it. He had insisted you had to go on this mission apparently you and Wanda had the 'specific' skills skillset for this mission, whatever that meant you knew he was just bullshitting to get you to shut up.

So now here you were getting ready to set off on your two day long stealth mission with the girl who could barely stand to look at you let alone talk and work with you.

☆

You'd arrived at the hotel room you'd be sharing with Wanda and thanked God that you'd got their first and the fact there was two beds. Quickly you threw down your bag on the bed closest to the window and began to check out the rest of the hotel room.

You were smelling the soaps in the bathroom when in clomped Wanda, her doc Martins still managing to make some kind of noise over the soft carpeted floor. She was dressed in a long baggy grey sweater and black skirt with patterned fishnets. Her hands adorned with rings and her short bitten at nails painted black.

"It smells of smoke." She thinks out loud without noticing your precense in the room.

"Yeah sorry about that it's my new signature perfume." You try to joke hoping she might happen to be over her constant anger with you. You study her face through the bathroom mirror as you speak watching out for her reaction. At first you see the possibility of a smile forming on her face and a rosy colour on her cheeks but quickly it's replaced by her signature scowl and a disgusted noise sneaking past her lips.

"Oh. You're here." She talks as if she'd expected someone else to be here despite the many debriefs you'd had together about this mission.

You for one had had enough of her attitude around you acting as if you were something below her. "Yes I'm here like it or not. Can we at least just be civil for the sake of this mission." You groan while walking over to where she's stood, raking your hands through your hair. In response she grumbled out some kind of agreement and that was it.

So far things had been going fine, you'd both kept to your own routine with minimal communication between the two of you. For the most part you'd spent your time exploring the hotel you were staying in. It was cheap and smelt damp. You for sure would be complaining at how you got booked in this dingy one star place once this mission was over. You'd been excited originally as the hotel advertised having a twenty five metre indoor swimming pool which was plenty to keep you occupied however when you inquired at the desk the receptionist, who'd been ignoring you stood there for ten minutes while she read her magazine, told it was shut indefinitely.

Eventually you had to return to the room and when you did Wanda was already fast asleep on her bed, small snores sounding occasionally. You took note of how pretty she was when she wasn't scowling before sliding into your own bed for the night.

☆

You'd done the first half of the mission with relative ease, you and Wanda putting a side your differences for the greater good. Now it seemed as if things were taking a turn for the worse. Upon arrival you'd both scouted the building for any kind of agents or security around the building but found none however now it seemed the building was filling up with them. Two men following behind who you were attempting to fire at and run away from, which is much harder than Natasha makes it look in training.

From the whimper of pain which sounded sounded out and echoed down the corridor you assumed you shot one. This was your chance to lose them and Wanda realised that too as you both picked up the pace of your running.

Out of nowhere she grabbed your arm and dragged you inside a small dark box? No it can't be a box you thought as you looked above you and saw an empty clothing rail. It was a cupboard. Your eyes scanned around the little space you had while trying to avoid eyecontact with Wanda who was leaning over top of you with one hand next to your head against the wall of the cupboard to keep her upright.

Quickly the cramped and uncomfortable space became all too much for you. The lack of oxygen in there made you take shallow breaths and sweat pooled from your forhead. It felt like the walls were closing in. You should get out. No you had to. Trying to move to force yourself out startled Wanda who gripped onto your shoulder to avoid you both tumbling out and compromising your hiding place.

"What are you doing? Just stay still." She whispered angrily. Had her voice always sounding that good up close? At that thought a frown crossed your face and you briefly forgot how badly you needed to get out of this space you were entrapped in. It didn't make you completely forget though as you came to your senses and stopped thinking about how nice Wanda's voice was and remembered how your heart was thundering in your chest and you whole body ached to get out of this cupboard.

"Have to.. to get out." You breathe out, expecting some kind of rude response from her as your breathing further quickens and vision fogs up. Her actual response is nothing you'd ever thought you'd hear her say.

"Look at me y/n." She waits to make sure your making eyecontact with her before continuing. "Its going to be okay, this is all okay and this is nothing you can't do. Just focus on me not the four walls.." her voice was soothing and not completely unlike a lullaby. You still felt unsettled but nothing like before when you were desperate to get out. "Your gonna be fine." She says again as she takes your hand in her own gently squeezing it. The cool feeling of her silver rings against your sweaty palms helping further calm you down as your breathing once again becomes steady.

After a few minutes of silence where you just focus on your breathing and the feeling of Wanda's thumb rubbing against the back of your hand you begin to speak. "Thanks.. I know you don't really like me or anything but I appreciated that a lot."

"Its nothing really... also your stood on my foot." She tells you returning to her usual cold snappy voice. Quickly you moved your foot away muttering apologies as you did, unsure how long you'd been stood on her foot. "I don't hate you either. Well not really."

Your about to question her on why she acts this way around you if she really doesn't hate you but before you can she opens the cupboard door and you both stumble out thankful for the airy space around you. "Don't bring this up y/n." She says before leading the way out leaving you trailing behind a little confused. Was she mean? Did she hate you? Was that all for the mission?

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gxtfictx · 5 days

Text

Dating Emily Prentiss - Headcanons

some of these are nsfw

-She is the softest girlfriend ever

-always seems so strong, so badass, but she has the softest spot for you, you make her heart melt, and she never fights it back

-suuuuuuper posessive, gets jealous easily

-one time during a case, one of the local cops started flirting with you. Emily was fuming, pulling you close to her, her hands on your waist, putting your hair behind your ear, she had done it all, but this guy was just not getting it. Once the case was closed, he was about to ask you out for a drink, when Emily heard it, she run to where you were (still speechless) and kissed your lips, it was a explicit kiss, her hands on your waist possessively, a deep, passionate and romantic kiss, taking you by surprise. The guy was flabbergasted to say the least. "hey baby, ready to go?" she asks when she pulls apart. She looks at you, still out of words, and then to the guy, his mouth still opened in awe. "oh, sorry, you were saying?" he doesn't bother you anymore

-she loves having you over at her place because it's like sharing her intimacy with you, and she is a SUCKER for any kind of intimacy

-seeing you sitting around her place, walking around her kitchen messing around, cooking, listening to music and dancing, you on her couch, hanging your bras on the bathroom, randomly finding a sock or a pair of lost underwear after a night together... she loves having you around so much that you have your own drawer at her place after only 3 months of dating.

-another form of intimacy that she loves is when you wear her clothes. Hell. She loves it. She's feral for it. She always insists you look better on them anyway. She will wear it after because it smells like you, the scent calms her down, so she buries her nose into it every once in a while.

-physical touch is her no1 love language, in the sense that she will take any chance she gets to touch you. Her hand on your thigh. Will hold yours under the table every time. She caresses your shoulder, your arm. Will hold your hand on the plane during landing. When you go back after a case on the jet she'll have you laying on her, full on hugging sometimes, your back laying on her chest, she will play with strands of your hair, tickle your forearm... anything she can, she will touch

-she loves showing you off, always refers to you as "my girlfriend". "i'm gonna call my girlfriend" "i need to ask my girlfriend first" "Sure! I'll call my girlfriend to ask her if she wants to come" ...

-WILL tease the team, specially Morgan as he instists on making comments about your relationship (he never means wrong, he's not fetizishing you, it's just what he knows) "Prentiss, you and pretty girl had a good night?" "damn well we did" / "hey Prentiss any reason why you're both wearing turtle necks today? (she uncovers her neck, showing off the purple marks you had left) don't worry, you should see how i left her"

-at the beginning it would embarrass you a lot, now you've learned to enjoy it, and you even join in sometimes "Hey Prentiss, got a whip? (he says holding the leather attire to her body) You bet she does" Em loves it when you tease too.

-she definitely praises you in different languages, specially Italian because you love it (yes i'm projecting, so what, Italian is sexier than French, i said what i said)

-she's a huuuge nerd, so you bet movie marathons are a thing. She'll also keep asking you to pay attention if she has already seen it "Baby look! Look, this is the best part!" "I'm looking Em, I promise I'm looking"

-Chocolate, red wine and cherries are her 3 faves. You once got a perfume that smelled like cherries and she loved it so much she spent hours with her nose buried in your neck

-After several months of dating, you suggested to go on a little weekend trip. She was reluctant at first, but you convinced her as soon as you showed her the big jacuzzi at the hotel. She loved it so much and you had such a great time, that you started going on them every time you had a free weekend

-She has a tattoo on her ribs, right next to her boob. It was a stupid decision she made when she was 16, she instantly regretted it, hated it, and had always thought about getting it removed, until you started dating. You loved it, constantly reminding her how sexy it looked, kissed all the way around it, it made her feel so confident about it that she even started liking it, although it kind of looked like shit.

-She's not controlling at all, but she is over protective. She will murder whoever dares to touch you. (You know that scene when Spencer bends a guy's arm when he touches Tara? something like that)

-She loooooves giving you hickeys, but obviously they can't be visible, so she marks you all around. Your boobs, your thighs, your waist...

-She's a top, but she likes experimenting and will let you (and enjoy it just as much) take the lead whenever you feel like it.

-Has a whole folder on her phone for pictures of you with Sergio, most of them candid that you don't even know about

-loves showers and baths together, any time you go for a shower you can be sure she's joining you inside. You always say how inconvenient it is, but she always goes "we need to save water, honey"

-into astrology but will never admit it (she literally recognises constellations HELLO?!)

-You love her nose so much. She's always been kind of self conscious about it, but you reassured her every time, kissing it, praising her, you always told her how perfect it was for eating pussy, and that convinced her. Or maybe it was your moans after the tip of her nose bruised against your clit when she ate you out. You're not sure.

-Before she met you, she hadn't come out to her mom, nether had taken any partner home, when you started dating she told you about it, you insisted that it didn't matter, she had to do it when she was ready, if she ever was. It only took her 6 months to tell her and introduce you both.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A/N: might do a part two in some time because there are SO MANY omg she's the cutest (like and reblog <3 )

#criminal minds x reader #emily prentiss #emily prentiss imagine #emily prentiss lesbian #lesbian #lesbian pride #wlw #wlw fanfic #wlw smut #emily prentiss hcs #emily prentiss headcanons #headcanon #Emily Prentiss x reader

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hausbabylon · 7 months

Text

bundle of luck

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

A/N: Oh how I wish I could take with me every single cat I see :(

Word count: 2,626

Warnings: None, just fluff for a change!

After another lovely date with Natasha, you find a stray cat resting peacefully on the porch of your house.

The scent of Natasha's perfume wafted into your nostrils as soon as she placed her signature black jacket over your shoulders, giving you a light squeeze as a small display of affection.

You always swore there was no way the burning sun would eventually fade away and be replaced by gray clouds in a matter of a few hours, but by now you should have learned that such a thing was possible, for this was another occasion where you didn't bring your own jacket, and consequently, Natasha was lending you hers.

While such an action caused you to melt right there and then, completely touched by her charm and attentiveness, it was also true that it made you feel a pang of guilt. The last thing you wanted was to be a bother when these past five months she had been anything but a total dream of a woman for you.

The first time, you completely refused and she, between giggles stated that a 11°C weather was like hot summerfor a tough Russian woman such as herself. So the next three times you just thanked her and rewarded her in one way or another, like giving her a cold beer after dropping you off at your place, a drink you started buying just to have an excuse to invite her inside.

This day was no exception, of course. After she lent you her jacket and gave you a pleasant ride on her motorcycle to drop you off safe and sound, you said to her, "Would you like a beer? As a gesture of thanks for the jacket and the ride... and another wonderful date, of course," although at this point, both of you knew perfectly well that this was more than a thank you gesture.

"You know I'd never turn down a beer, moya lyubov," she replied, but what the redhead meant was 'you know I'd never turn down spending at least a few more minutes with you’. She never said it directly, however, something inside you always knew how to read between the lines. Maybe that's why your relationship with her lasted so many years later, but that’s another story to tell, now we're talking about the beginning.

"Come inside, then," you smiled at her.

"Oh, my goodness!" She exclaimed, her face lighting up even more and her smile expanding from ear to ear. She had her attention set to a fixed point behind you, and when you turned to see what was the cause of it, it didn't take you a second to mirror the action of the older woman.

A cat that looked perhaps a year old, whose color was an elegant beautiful black, was sleeping peacefully on the top tier of the porch of your house. The way it was curled up in a ball did not allow you to observe if there was a collar around its neck or not.

"I think it's best if we leave, let's not disturb them," Natasha whispered, and you couldn't help but let out a laugh at her suggestion.

She remained serious.

"Oh, you're telling me not to enter my own house so I don't disturb this unknown cat?" You teased, a playful grin forming on your lips as you glanced at Natasha.

“Uhm, yes,” she snorted, as if what you asked was the most obvious thing in the world.

You couldn't complain, you always felt a sort of twist in your stomach every time your outings with Natasha came to an end and it was time to say goodbye, so you happily agreed to put your helmet back on and go wherever she wanted.

You were both getting on the motorcycle, when in the corner of your eye you noticed a small shadow moving. The cat was stretching after waking up from that peaceful nap.

"Change of plans," the redhead laughed, and removed her helmet, then got off her motorcycle.

With the most cautious steps possible, she walked in the direction of the little cat, which had its green eyes already open as it preened its right paw.

After sensing the presence of a stranger, any other cat would have gotten up and run away in a matter of seconds. However, this cat simply looked up and walked towards Natasha, sniffing her outstretched hand and then rubbing against her as if she were its lifelong owner.

"Awww, hey there, little one," she murmured in a gentle tone, as she kneeled. The cat, displaying a never-seen-before trust, allowed Natasha to scratch it behind its ears.

You couldn’t stop smiling as you watched this ‘tough Russian woman’ interact so tenderly with the cat.

As Natasha continued to pet the black cat, she commented, "You're quite the charmer, aren't you?"

You approached her and kneeled down beside her, extending your hand towards the cat. It smelled you briefly and subsequently rubbed its head against your hand, just like it did with the redhead.

It purred softly, as if to express its gratitude for the warmth and kindness you and Natasha were showing towards it.

“Oh my, what a precious little thing!” You exclaimed, as you pouted, feeling your heart melt with tenderness.

You had cats most of your life, but that changed when you moved to this new city nine months ago. The last cat you had in your previous home stayed temporarily with your best friend Kate, and her golden retriever Lucky had become your cat's best friend in no time.

As soon as you stabilized, you brought him back to your side, and you noticed that he stopped eating, and constantly meowed in desperation whenever he heard Kate's voice or Lucky’s barks on the phone. So you decided to do the most generous act of love for your dearest companion, and respected his wishes to stay with Kate and Lucky the dog.

You were a firm believer that cats chose their owners, and the fact that this unknown black cat came into your home, and above all, was so affectionate towards you and Natasha, was a sign that there was a reason why it had come into your life.

"Do you think they have an owner?" you asked, feeling your heart melt as you caressed each one of its cheeks with your thumbs. It had its eyes closed, and you could swear it was almost smiling, a sign that your affection was deeply appreciated.

Natasha carefully examined the cat's neck, and her fingers confirmed what you suspected, there was no collar. "Doesn't look like it," she replied, her gaze still fixed on the cat. “We should adopt them,” she added, as if she has this power of reading your thoughts.

You often wondered if she was really able to read your thoughts, for she had an amazing pulse to tell you what you were thinking. She, likewise, also believed that you possessed that ability, and you loved that smile she would display every time she let you know that you said just what she was thinking.

Many factors made it indisputable that you had found your person, and you felt it when you observed how lovingly she was treating this little cat. She loved animals, what more could you ask for?

"Nat, there is nothing I want more than to do this with you," you declared. As your relationship with her progressed, you lost count of how many times you answered her with that same sentence.

"So what are we going to do, share custody like we're a divorced couple?" Natasha laughed, and it automatically rubbed off on you, making you laugh along with her.

"Yes, we can have a custody agreement," you teased, pretending to mull it over. "You get weekends and Christmas, and I'll have weekdays and New Year."

Natasha raised an eyebrow, feigning seriousness. "Hmm, I don't know if I can handle only seeing our little furball on weekends! We’ll discuss that in court!"

You chuckled, shaking your head, “No, but seriously, you get one week and every Friday we drop the child off at each other’s house. How about that?” You proposed.

Natasha grinned, leaning in to give you a quick kiss on the lips, "Sounds like a plan,” she paused. “Oh, I’m not supposed to kiss you! We’re divorcing!” She joked.

"Right, right,” you nodded in agreement. Even though you were trying so hard to play serious, you couldn’t stop smiling. “Divorce proceedings concluded. Now, how about we go to the vet for a quick check-up?

Natasha grinned and nodded. "Absolutely, it's time for some serious co-parenting."

Very gently, the redhead took the cat in her arms, to which the two of you gave multiple caresses during your 'custody discussion'. You, on the other hand, entered your house to quickly grab your car keys and opened your garage, making way for your girlfriend to enter with your new companion.

As you approached your car, you unlocked the doors, opening the passenger one for Natasha to get into the vehicle with the cat securely in her arms.

The car ride was better than expected, the cat appeared anxious but Natasha made sure to reach in to comfort and stroke it, so there wasn’t any sort of inconvenience beyond its occasional meowing.

Once there, you and Natasha were told to wait around fifteen minutes for the vet to be available. When your turn came, a kind and gentle soul, greeted you all with a warm smile, taking the little one carefully and then instructing you to wait outside.

After half an hour or so, the veterinarian returned with the cat, who appeared to have shinier hair and had a red bandana around its neck, indicating that it had received a bath.

"Wow, poor thing, didn't cause a lot of trouble?" Natasha asked, as she took the cat back into her arms and briefly sniffed its fur, making you giggle.

"She's very well-behaved," the veterinarian replied.

"She?" The redhead and you said in unison.

"That's right, she's a female," she confirmed.

"Detka, do you have any idea how rare female black cats are? There's always a higher chance it's male!" Natasha turned to you, her green eyes taking on an immediate gleam as she looked back down at the cat in her arms.

“It seems like we have a very special lady with us now,” you commented, caressing the cat’s chin. “Our lucky charm.”

Natasha nodded in agreement, and turned her attention back to the vet, “And how is her health?”

"She appears to be in good health overall," she began. "I gave her a bath treatment to get rid of fleas, and applied an anti-flea pipette, which should be applied every month," she continued, to which both of you were paying cautious attention. “She had also had internal parasites, and she's quite malnourished. But the good news is that these issues can be treated. We'll start with a deworming medication to address the parasites. Additionally, I'll provide you with dietary recommendations to help her regain her strength. She's also due for some vaccinations to keep her protected."

After expressing your gratitude to the veterinarian and making an appointment for the next checkup in two weeks, you and Natasha split the bill evenly, each covering your share of the expenses.

The next step was to head to the nearest pet store, in order to provide everything your new cat would need in both of her new homes. You picked out two litter boxes, one for each home, making sure they were spacious and easy to clean. For food and water, you selected two sets of bowls, and made sure to stock up on the special recovery food the vet had prescribed… of course you couldn’t resist grabbing several treats and toys to keep her entertained and spoiled.

As you pushed the shopping cart filled with items, you smiled widely when you spotted the heartwarming scene through the car window. There, in the passenger seat, Natasha sat patiently with the cat nestled comfortably on her lap, peacefully asleep.

The bond between Natasha and the cat was something that you knew would grow stronger with every passing day, and it was evident that this adorable addition to your lives had found a special place in Natasha's heart.

Once you returned home, you wasted no time in setting up the new living space. The litter box was strategically placed, and the bowls were filled with cat tuna and fresh water respectively. The scent of the food immediately drew the attention of your new little friend, for she eagerly approached the bowl, and devoured her meal in a matter of seconds.

Fortunately, the prescribed deworming pill, carefully hidden in the food, went unnoticed as she happily ate. Natasha and you exchanged smiles, relieved to see her enjoying her first proper meal in her new home.

“While I was in the car waiting for you, I was thinking about some names,” Natasha said, sitting cross legged on the floor as she simply observed in awe how the black cat enjoyed the food she was provided.

You turned to her, "What names did you come up with?" You asked, as you imitated her action of sitting cross legged on the floor.

"I remembered a creature in Slavic mythology named Liho, and I think it suits her, what do you think?” Natasha proposed.

You repeated the name softly, trying it out. It had a unique and gentle ring to it, just like the cat herself. "Liho," you said with a smile. "I like it. It's perfect. Does it have a meaning?"

“Liho is the embodiment of evil fate and misfortune,” she explained.

Your laughter rang through the room at Natasha's explanation.

"Liho, the embodiment of evil fate and misfortune? Come on, Nat, look at her!" You pointed at the cat, who was now drinking some water. "How can she be evil? She's an absolute sweetheart!”

Natasha chuckled at your response, understanding that her choice was unconventional, "I wanted to name her something not too obvious, something contrary to her. Liho just felt right, like she's going to defy all the superstitions."

You smiled, noticing the thought and care Natasha had put into the name. She indeed had a unique reasoning behind it, "I get it. Liho it is, our little bundle of luck."

Every Friday, as promised, you remained true to your playful ‘custody agreement’. You and Natasha would take turns dropping off the cat at each other's houses.

On those days, you would pack a bag for Liho, making sure it contained her food and a selection of toys to keep her entertained. The cat, ever adaptable, quickly grew accustomed to the weekly transitions, and her sweet demeanor made the process a piece of cake.

It had become a cherished habit to feel Liho's weight on your feet during cozy movie nights, or to find her perched on the windowsill, her inquisitive eyes watching the world outside as you and Natasha cooked dinner together whenever she visited you, or viceversa.

Over time, Liho's transformation was notorious and drastic. With consistent care, her health steadily improved. Gone were the days of malnourishment, for she had gained weight, and her black hair shimmered with vitality. All thanks to the love and dedication you both poured into her recovery, an unavoidable response to the way she had effortlessly wrapped you both around her little paw from the moment she had first appeared on your house's porch.

And it was a matter of time for Liho to have just one home, for you and Natasha decided to take the next step after a year, and decided to move together.

And it was also a matter of time for a new member to join your family as well…

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #scarlett johansson #black widow #black widow x reader #marvel

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sehodreams · 3 months

Note

Nerd!Anton getting made fun of for being a virgin so you feel bad and think that the least you can do is give him a handjob. You can tell he had the time of his life while whimpering and his eyes rolling to the back of his head while curling his toes.

Yes, I love Nerd!Anton

WC: 1K

TW and Tags: a touch of bullying, sexual content, hand job, no verbal consent so maybe a bit dubcon for some of you (but he said he wanted a girl to touch him so...)

You're as pathetic as him, you affirmed inside your head, it was hard to look at that face and not feel bad for him, his eyes wet after you made him remember why the others laughed at him the other day, making fun of him for being a virgin when a girl openly told everyone his little secret, and you knew he didn't want to talk about it, trying to circle back to the subject of your project numerous times, but there was something about his embarrassed expression when you asked him more about it that made you too curious to stop, wanting to know what had that girl done for him to let himself be fooled by her at that party, and why did he go there in first place when he used to say they were a waste of time.

With every question his face became more and more red, and when he admitted that he just wanted to be touched by a girl for once, lip quivering, head down and voice stuttering of humiliation, sending a pinch to your heart and your core, your soft spot felt bad for him, and before you noticed, you had already offered yourself.

"I'll do it" you said, almost ordered, surprising both of you.

He didn't answer, and you didn't offer yourself again, you just got closer, crawling to him in silence, and still unsure, you sat on your knees between his legs, which he opened so you could be closer to him.

You didn't understand what was going inside you that made you want to touch him, but you were already there, grasping his crotch with your index finger, looking at his eyes to see if he would stop you in any second. However, he would never do it, he just couldn't believe anyone would offer to touch him, and the only reason why he couldn't answer was because no words would properly form in his head.

His breath stopped when he saw you pull down his fly, fingertips playing with his member over the fabric of his boxers, making him gulp with the soft caressing. He wasn't feeling your touch directly against his skin and his heart was already beating so hard he was afraid you would hear it and laugh at him for being so innocent.

Still, inhaling the sweet smell of your perfume around him, he couldn't help but feel something tingle inside him, especially after his eyes looked at your lips, plump and shiny thanks to the lip gloss he saw you reapplying minutes before, because in his imagination they looked like that covered with his cum.

With his dick already hard, a pitched sound came out of his throat when you pulled down his underwear, the cold air of the room touching his member that jumped in front of you, showing a reddish color in the tip and a couple of transparent drops of precum.

You saw him looking at your lips and you smiled, satisfied with his reaction and his size, it was a lot bigger than what you expected, not that you had thought about it before, until that day you saw him like your classmate and nothing more, but there, alone, in his room, and after having teased him because of what happened days prior, something awakened inside you.

Two of your fingers making a v caressed his cock up and down, smearing the drops to his whole length and making a couple more of them appear, pushing you to tease him even more.

Clearly agitated and having a hard time breathing with you so close, touching him like no one had done before, his chest, covered with his black turtleneck, moved in front of your eyes.

It was a bit difficult at first, with his size and your hand not wet enough, you couldn't move it like you wanted, and he was feeling good, but you knew he could feel better, so you bended in front of him, and with your mouth close to his length, while looking at him in the eyes, you spat over it.

He couldn't believe his eyes, it was the first time a girl was so close to his dick, and it perfectly fitted the picture of you sucking his cock he had imagined moments ago, making his mind dizzy.

You bit your lips, wrapping his member with your hand and putting pressure in your grip, you jerked him off for a good amount of time, enjoying the image of him shattering with just your hand touching him.

Not much after you started, his hips bucked into your hand, searching for more contact, and you, feeling your panties get wet, let him use your hand to pleasure himself.

When he started to whimper you used your thumb to stimulate the tip of his cock, like you had seen other enjoy before, making his head fall and his hands become fists behind him, finding the strength to maintain his position and not cum too fast.

Sadly, soon his voice got slightly louder, whimpers leaving his mouth and eyes closed with force, with his hips sloppily thrusting your hand and arms shaking, you knew he was close, "look at me", you said when you felt his cock throb, and he did it without question, looking at you with glossy eyes, the eye contact made both of you feel hotter.

A singular long moan escaped his lips, making you grin in response, "gonna cum?", you asked, moving your hand slowly but with more pressure.

He nodded, and then, when the wet sounds of his cock fucking your hand were filling the room and his tip had started to leak more precum, you pressed the palm of your free hand against his lower abdomen, making him cum in that instant, eyes rolling to the back of his head and dick twitching thick white drops all over your fist, a couple of them reaching your clothed thighs.

He ruined your new pair of blue jeans, yet you couldn't care less about them, too focused on the pretty cock you just made cum for the first time in your life.

Yeah, it was your first time touching a dick too, but he didn't need to know that he wasn't the only virgin around.

#riize x plus size reader #riize x reader #riize smut #anton x reader #anton smut

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whiteteadreams · 10 months

Note

shy&needy! bf doyoung please hihi

Candied Intimacy

Word Count: 2.4k

Genre: Slice of Life, established relationship, smut, fluff

Warnings: Cursing/mature language, smut, not proofread

Smut Warnings: slight femdom, begging, oral (f receiving), body worship (f receiving), degrading names (pathetic), doyoung is pussy whipped immediately, brief nipple sucking, couch sex lol, unprotected sex (protection isn't specified, be safe!), doyoung is a bit perverted, lmk if i missed anything!

a/n- hihi!! thank you sm for requesting! i hope you like it!! :>

Although he refused to tell you what he wanted or needed, it was so painfully obvious. The way he would wipe his palms on his pants, droplets of sweat formed along his hairline, and he would avoid eye contact with you at all costs. He hasn’t really changed since the first day you spoke to him. The interaction wasn’t even natural. Your philosophy teacher had put the students into pairs to watch a movie and compare their interpretations as to what the movie was truly about.

You honestly didn’t even care who you got paired up with as you didn’t know a single person in the lecture hall. But nonetheless, you’re glad that the professor had paired people up.

Kim Doyoung, the boy who sat in the fourth row, not to close to the front, out of fear of constantly being called on and not too far in the back to be considered a slacker. You, however, sat right in the front row and always had the answer to any of the teacher's philosophical questions and you were never scared to let your opinion out.

The two of you were quite different, so much so that when both of your names were called, you had to look around the room to see whose name was also called, but Doyoung knew exactly where to look. He was lucky he was smart since he never paid attention in class, too infatuated with you. With how you were so confident with your answers and your posture was so perfectly straight. He remembers one day when you wore a shirt that showed off your shoulder blades. Doyoung wanted nothing more than to paint your skin with his love, bite marks, purple, red, blue marks from his lips. He didn’t care, he just wanted to show people that you were his…even though you didn’t know that he existed. What was even worse was that during one of your many arguments with a fellow classmate, you took upon an almost degrading attitude and Doyoung looked down to see that his pants had grown tight around his hardening dick.

When it was time to actually meet up and watch the movie, you suggested that you do it in person so commentary could be made, and conversation could be conducted. Your roommate was out of town visiting her boyfriend, so you immediately offered your dorm to be the movie theater of the day. Doyoung gave you a silent nod and the both of you exchanged numbers.

It wasn’t until he was sitting beside you in your dorm on your couch that he came to terms that he was in love with you. You had done most of the talking so he already knew some things about you, but it was enough for him, and the intense smell of your signature perfume floating in the air of the dorm helped as well. It was sweet but subtle and he couldn’t do anything without his nostrils being flooded with the smell of you.

As the movie played on you paused several times to give your input and in return, you asked for his. But of course, as you lead and controlled the topics, the focus didn’t stay on the movie for the entire time. You asked Doyoung things about himself, he blushed but still answered, the heat spreading to his ears whenever a common interest would come up, which was very often.

With finishing the project in one day, the realization that contact wasn’t necessary anymore hit, so as Doyoung was walking down the hallway, you opened your door again and yelled.

“Hey! Would you maybe wanna hang out again?”

“Like a date?”

“Yes, like a date.”

Doyoung just smiled and nodded at you, a bit embarrassingly eager, but he didn’t mind once a smile took over your lips. The two of you went from never speaking to planning a date all in one day.

The date went well and after a few more, you asked if Doyoung wanted to make your relationship a bit more official.

So far in the relationship you had initiated everything, and although the relationship was new, you wanted Doyoung to take charge for once. Holding out was harder than you thought it would be, after all, you were very attracted to Doyoung, you had eyes. But this was the thing you wanted him to start, the two of you taking the next step in your relationship, sex.

However, just because you were going to let him control the situation, that didn’t mean you couldn’t tease him.

It was late when Doyoung arrived, just off from work and you were in pajamas that could easily be confused with lingerie. You also knew how much Doyoung loved the smell of your perfume, so you added a spritz to your wrists, crown of your head, neck, as well as the curve of your breasts that the shirt you were wearing did absolutely nothing to hide.

You opened the door once he knocked, and stepped back, letting him in with a flirty smile. When you turned around, Doyoung allowed his eyes to travel down to your ass, which was covered by your skimpy shorts which exposed the curve of the muscle.

Looking over your shoulder at him, you heard him gulp and watched his Adam’s apple bob. It was obvious that he was already struggling, put you decided to push the situation a bit further. Once you two were nestled on the couch with blankets on top of your laps, you leaned on Doyoung which caused your breasts to press against his arm.

He swallowed loudly again, and of course you had to play innocent. “What’s the matter Doie? Are you warm? Because I’m pretty warm.” With that you crossed your arms over your torso, grabbed onto the lace hem of your shirt, and pulled it up, bearing your perky tits to your boyfriend. “Ugh, that’s so much better.” Pressing against his arm again, he was able to feel your smooth supple skin on his, even better, since your breasts were know exposed to the air, your nipples had hardened, causing Doyoung to feel the taunt pebbles on your mounds.

Trying to suppress your giggle, you looked up at Doyoung, studying his reaction. You saw his jaw clench, the sharp edge of the bone becoming even more prominent.

“Are you okay Doie?” Leaning back, removing your warmth from Doyoung, you needed him to do something now. You knew it wasn’t something he didn’t want, because his dick had already grown hard.

Now that your breasts weren’t against him, if he looked to his right, he’d see your bare chest. And that’s exactly what happened when he looked to his right. Doyoung gulped and fisted his pants.

“Is there something you want Doie?” You traced the curve of your breast, holding eye contact with him. But on his end of the contact, his eyes constantly switched between looking at your eyes, and your chest. He nodded in response to your question when his eyes weren’t on yours.

“Well, if there’s something you want, you’re gonna have to tell me how much you want it.”

Doyoung looked down to his lap, contemplating on what the next words that left his mouth were going to be. The internal fight he was having with himself didn’t last long though.

“You-you don’t understand how much I want to touch you. I’ve always wanted to touch you, you’re just so pretty. And-and I want to make you feel as good on the outside as you make me feel on the inside.”

His face started to heat up at his words, and the more he went on, the more his face burned. Doyoung pushed himself to get the words out, becoming desperate for you to touch him and when you covered your breasts, the words flew out.

“You literally don’t understand. Like even before we started dating, you’d be arguing with someone in class, and I’d get fucking hard. And there’d be times after we got together that I had to stop myself from doing something perverted. I want you so bad, but I just wanted to make sure it was something you wanted as well. You literally always make me so hard.”

His face was bright red at this point, including his ears and neck. He as just that needy.

Uncovering yourself, you wanted Doyoung to beg for you after you knew how he felt now.

“You just wanted me that bad huh?” He swallowed and nodded, not letting his eyes off of your movements.

You leaned forward and lifted yourself up from the couch a bit and removed your panties slowly, letting Doyoung savor the imagination before it became a reality. Your nails tickled your legs as they made their way down, bringing your panties with them, which eventually landed on the floor.

Removing your feet from the leg holes, you leaned back against the armrest on the couch and separated your legs slowly, allowing Doyoung to see you.

Without saying anything, the man in front of you leaned down, chasing the thing he’s been dreaming about. The fiery lust in his eyes was enough to tell you how much he wanted you, his pupil had also taken over his iris. The pools of brown you fell in love with now replaced with a black that held so much heat, you wanted to see how much you could push his shyness. When he was at leg length, you lifted your foot and placed it on his right shoulder. Doyoung had the perfect view of your dripping pussy finally, but even now he was so far.

“Please, let me make you feel good. I need you.” His tone held a whiny edge, and you smiled at him sweetly.

“How do I know that I’ll end up feeling good? You’re so desperate you might lose sight on what matters, me, and focus on your own pleasure. You’re so pathetic, begging just for a taste of your girlfriend’s pussy. And what will you do? Grind on my couch until you cum in your pants like some virgin?”

“I’ll do whatever you want me to, I’ll let you use me, so you feel good. Just please, let me taste you.” His lips were quivering, and he sounded as if he was on the brink of tears.

Removing your foot, you nodded at Doyoung, giving him permission to please you.

He didn’t waste a single second.

“You taste so good.” If you weren’t already wet with arousal, Doyoung’s spit would definitely make up for the lack of lubrication. He was making a mess, one that left its mark on his chin, nose, your thighs, and navel.

Trying to keep your composure you aimed to keep your sounds of pleasure to a minimum, but the few that did manage to slip went unnoticed as the only sound that could be heard throughout the room was the noise Doyoung was making in between your thighs.

As he was lying flat on his stomach, you were able to see his hips, which just as expected were grinding down into the cushions of your couch.

“Seems like I was right, you are humping my couch. How about you put those hips to use and just come fuck me?” His hips stilled, the embarrassment on being caught hit him, hard, but your offer made up for it and soon he was scrambling up to your level.

Doyoung somehow tripped over himself, losing balance and landing on top of you. “Eager, huh?” His clothed dick rubbed against your cunt as he pushed himself even closer to you. Doyoung was drooling, and you felt him place wet kisses along your neck, occasionally sucking.

He kept searching your neck for that specific spot, not stopping until he felt you’re his buck up and a soft moan to leave your parted lips. Doyoung chuckled and you rubbed against his dick harder, causing his laugh to be interrupted by a hoarse moan.

“Don’t get cocky Doie. You haven’t even fucked me yet.” He looked up at you from your neck and pushed himself off of you. He stood up and removed his clothes, baring his body to you, including his cock, which was painfully hard and had pre-cum dribbling out of the red tip.

“Please, let me fuck you. I need to feel you.” Doyoung was lowering himself to be closer to you. “Please Doie, need you inside.” You gave him a smile to encourage him, as well as to help melt the nervousness brewing inside him.

Doyoung looked at your face to decipher if your words were sincere and then looked down to align himself to your awaiting hole.

He pushed in and as soon as your walls constricted around his throbbing cock, his eyes were rolling back. “You feel so good. Been thinking about this for so long.” He dropped his head down to your chest and latched onto your nipple.

Threading your fingers through his hair, you moaned as the multiple sources of pleasure were taking over your body.

You knew that you weren’t going to last much longer and that’s the only thing you feared, Doyoung made you this way. Feral almost.

“Fuck, Doie, I’m gonna cum soon. Please cum with me. Cum in me, please.” His head shot up from your chest and he asked, “Are you sure?”

You nodded and stroked his back, “I wanna feel you even more.” His hips sped up, determined to get the both of you at your releases at the same time.

One of his hands disappeared from by your head and traveled down your body and to your clit. Rubbing the nub caused you to clench even more which pushed Doyoung’s release to hit him. The feeling of the first rope of his cum entering you triggered you to fall over the edge as well.

Throwing your head back, your entire body tensed up as heat took over you and blood reached your ears.

Doyoung’s thrusts slowed down and eventually stopped completely. Barely able to hold himself up anymore, he lowered himself onto you completely and maneuvered the both of you to be on your sides, still facing each other.

“Wow, that was, wow.” He looked at you with nothing, but adoration and you giggled and kissed his lips softly.

You looked at Doyoung and thought about the perfect relationship you had laid out in from of you. The sex you just had was hands down the best, no because it resulted in the strongest orgasm, but because it was the first time you had sex with someone you truly loved.

“Never hesitate to want me Doyoung. I can promise you; I want you too.”

#female reader #kpop #x reader #fluff #smut #nct #nct smut #kim doyoung #doyoung #nct doyoung #nct doyoung smut #doyoung smut #nct 127 #nct 127 smut #nct 127 doyoung #nct 127 doyoung smut

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ssailormoonn · 6 months

Text

Visit | L Lawliet

MASTERLIST ┊death note master list

WC;2.9k┊!MDNI! ┊TW; Voyeurism? Slight cock warming, quick sex, bottom L (Still the dominant power) - Top reader (the submissive), P-I-V, light thigh riding, unprotected sex, pregnancy reveal

SYPNOSIS; {Y/N} takes a visit to see L at the hotel with the task force members present because she couldn't wait any longer to see the man, she has some special news to tell him. Although, he already knows. Cover name; {C/n} | True name ; {Y/n} {Lawliet}

The soft, ambient hum of the hotel's grand reception area envelops me as I stride confidently through the abundant space. The polished, marble tiles beneath my Mary Jane heels seem to create rhythmic clicks the further I walk, never missing a beat, my steps at the same pace.

Clad in a red slip dress that gracefully hugs my form, its silky fabric shifting sensuously with every movement. The dress, with its subtle, elegant shimmer, hints at both sophistication and a hint of allure. It drapes effortlessly a few inches above my knees, swaying with each step, drawing the eye with a subtle flirtation.

A leather coat, dark and supple, wraps around my shoulders like a protective shroud. Its rich scent mingles with the faint fragrance of my favorite perfume, more like L's favourite perfume, he prefers sweet-scented perfumes and I have found the perfect sweet vanilla perfume that I hope he likes compared to the other ones. The coat's collar frames my face, adding a touch of mystique to my appearance, while its sleek design implies both power and sensuality.

As I approach the reception desk, I can't help but notice the curious glances from other guests.

"If it's no trouble," I say, my voice carrying a tone of polite assertiveness, "I would like to get a key card for room 258."

As I speak, my {e/c} eyes lock onto hers, the intensity of my gaze reflecting my self-assuredness. I notice the subtle widening of her eyes, a fleeting reaction that suggests she might have momentarily misjudged me, perhaps assuming I was going to be a nuisance.

My request is delivered with a poised confidence that leaves no room for doubt, dispelling any misconceptions and ensuring that my intention is clear. "Um. I need you to confirm your relationship with the occupant first before I hand over the card. If you don't mind of course!"

"I'm the occupant's wife," I saw with a smile teasing its way onto my face, "I'd like the key card now."

"Yes, of course."

The elevator ride was surprisingly short and quick, considering Mr. Watari had arranged the hotel room to be on a relatively high floor. The floors seemed to glide past as the elevator ascended, and the soft, ambient music playing in the background added a touch of serenity to the journey.

The distinctive beep of the elevator signaled my arrival at the designated floor, and the doors slid open with a whisper of sound. Stepping out, I found myself in a well-lit corridor adorned with tasteful artwork and plush carpeting. I began scanning each door for the room number I sought.

My footsteps were hushed by the luxurious carpeting as I moved gracefully down the corridor. It didn't take long before I spotted the number I was looking for. Room 258. My destination was right in front of me, and I couldn't help but appreciate the attention to detail and opulence that characterised this hotel.

I slide my key card through the scan and it lets out a solemn beep as I crack open the door it seems I had not alarmed anyone to come and see who was coming through, although, they probably had cameras stationed everywhere.

As I burst into the room, I'm immediately met with the sight of several men in sharp suits, undoubtedly the members of the task force who have been tirelessly working on the Kira case. Their presence adds a layer of gravity to the room, emphasising the importance of the mission at hand. Do I care? No.

My {e/c} eyes quickly scan the room, and I spot a solitary figure at the very end. It's L, perched on a chair, indulging in a slice of cake.

Without hesitation, I slip off my jacket and make my way toward L's seat, my footsteps quick but controlled. In the process, I toss my leather coat to one of the task force members, who gasps in surprise at my unexpected and swift action. The room falls briefly into a stunned hush, the abruptness of my entrance leaving an indelible impression.

I turn my head to address the young man who's speaking muttered something, noting his light brown hair and honey-colored eyes. This must be Kira, the one they've been pursuing so relentlessly.

"You can't just come in here and run over to Ryuzaki, we don't even know who you are," He says.

As the young man with light brown hair and honey eyes holds the back of my dress, I feel his firm grip preventing me from moving any closer to L.

With a momentary pause, I assess the situation, understanding the need to establish trust and credibility with the task force before I can approach L further as they obviously do not know who I am. I let out a sigh.

"L, did you not tell them who I am?" I say crossing my arms, "I feel offended. And you, Kira. Are you holding me back because you want something from me? I didn't say yes. You can't shove tea down someone's throat if they don't reply or say no."

"My son is not Kira," A man peaks up.

"What are you talking about," Kira replies.

"She speaks about consent in the context of tea," L says while chewing on his strawberry cake, "Anyways, {C/n}, what are you doing here? I thought I told you not to come until the investigation is over."

"I missed you," I say, "I'm sure you knew that."

"I did."

"So, that leads me to come back to you," I say slapping Kira's hand off the grip on my dress.

"It doesn't matter, you aren't safe here," L says sternly, "Leave."

"I don't think I've heard Ryuzaki so...." Another member of the task force says this time in a younger voice.

"No," I say childishly.

"You are not safe here, {C/n}" He says through another spoonful of cake, and my mouth drops.

"Kira!" I say pointing back at the light brown-haired teen, "Doesn't my name! So who cares!"

"I care, now leave."

"No."

L's annoyance becomes palpable as he lets out an exasperated sigh. He places his plate, which once held a slice of cake, onto the table in front of him, and the clank it makes upon contact with the surface resonates throughout the room. His frustration at the disruption is evident, and it seems he's eager to address the situation and clarify the reason for my sudden appearance.

"Could everyone leave." L's command is authoritative, and the members of the task force obediently comply, exiting the room, and leaving us alone.

With the others gone, L remains in his seat, not making any move to approach me. It's clear that he's feeling a sense of unease, a rare vulnerability that he allows only in my presence. The facade he wears in front of the world drops, and he knows he can be more himself when we're alone together. This unspoken connection between us is a testament to the unique dynamic of our relationship and the trust we share.

I walk confidently in front of L, taking a motherly stance with my hands on my hips as I peer down at him. His gaze remains downcast, and he slowly places his feet on the floor, unfolding from his characteristic egg-shaped sitting position.

As I stand before him, a few moments pass, and then I feel his hands gently rest on my waist. My heart quickens, and I shiver at the intimate contact. L buries his head into my dress-clad stomach, seeking comfort and closeness.

As I wrap my arms around L, pulling him in closer, he responds by encircling me with his own arms, drawing me near. My fingers gently trail through his obsidian hair, and I feel a soft groan escape his lips in response to the sensation. His hands tighten around my waist, and I can't help but chuckle at his endearing reaction, knowing that even in the midst of the most challenging cases, he still wants to have my affection no matter what protests he makes.

"You've been acting moodier lately." L's observation about my moodiness doesn't go unnoticed, and I frown in response, not quite ready to share the news or discuss my feelings.

"Whatever."

L doesn't press the matter further. Instead, he gently pulls away from our close embrace, leaning back into the chair. He pats his lap, and I understand his unspoken invitation. Without hesitation, I eagerly sit on top of L, straddling him, finding comfort and solace in the unique connection we share. It's in these moments of intimacy that we can find solace and support amidst the challenges of the Kira case.

"I missed you," I whispered, my voice choked with emotion as tears welled up in my eyes. The weight of our separation had been unbearable, and now, in this moment of reunion, all I wanted was to hold him close and feel his presence once again.

"I know you did," L says, his voice filled with warmth and understanding as he wraps his arms around my waist. The weight of our separation is unbearable, and in this moment of reunion, all I want is to hold him close and feel his presence once again.

"Why am I crying?" I manage to say, my voice trembling with emotion, tears welling up in my eyes.

"You must be stressed about something, what is it?" L asks, his concern evident in his eyes. His words carry the longing, emptiness, and joy of seeing me.

The truth is, the rawness of our separation has left me emotionally vulnerable. The longing to be with L, to feel his touch and hear his comforting words, has taken a toll on my emotional well-being. It's a natural response to crave that deep connection, to feel the warmth and love that L brings into my life. The day I found out about this... It was Near's intuition that mentioned it, I didn't even think of a possibility that it happened.

I take a deep breath, trying to compose myself, and finally manage to say, "It's just the weight of missing you, L. It's been unbearable and something else."

L's eyes soften, and he pulls me even closer, his embrace providing a sense of solace and comfort. We may have been physically apart, but our bond has remained strong, bridging the distance between us.

"Take your time," he whispers, his voice filled with understanding. "I'm here for you now, and I'll always be. Let yourself feel, and know that I'm here to hold you through it all."

And at that moment, as I let myself surrender to the overwhelming emotions, I realise that the power of our connection transcends physical presence. It is in the tenderness of L's embrace, the reassurance in his voice, and the unconditional love we share that I find solace, healing, and a sense of home.

My whispered words carry a sense of longing and urgency as I address L. I reach out and gently drag the collar of his white tee to the side, exposing a patch of his skin, and press my lips against it. L's response is a soft sigh, his reaction to my touch evident.

"I want you," I murmur, my voice filled with desire and need. "It's been too long, and I can't... I can't function without you."

Our connection goes beyond the professional, and the intensity of our bond is underscored by the intimate moments we share, especially in the midst of such a high-stakes case.

"You're not well, are you sure you don't want to tell me anything before we continue?" He asks in a soft tone rubbing the back of my head as I continue to trail kisses around his neck.

"After," I say desperately, "Please, after. Want you now."

"Whatever you want, love."

I shift myself so I'm perfectly aligned to where his bulge is proding beneath the fabric of his jeans and I grind myself down on him causing a breathy sigh to leave my throat at the relieving action. His grip turns to hold my hips before dragging his hands up to my waist, bunching up the silken fabric to my waist and I whimper when he plays with the hem of my underwear.

"You really are that needy, love," He whispers against the shell of my ear and I bury my head in the crook of his neck.

"Stop," I mumble against his skin to stop the teasing as it's making a deep flush rise against my cheeks.

I feel his two skilled fingers drag my underwear to the side and drag them down my slit causing me to let out a moan at the feeling. "So wet already," He comments and I disregard the comment as I whimper in response instead of answering.

His two fingers slide in my heat and I nibble on the flesh of his neck and L groans in response. I grind myself down on them causing a string of moans to leave my mouth. He curls his fingers and I grind myself back and forth against his long digits. I felt a coil in my stomach tighten and my whimpers became louder.

"Ngh, L," I whimper out as I wrap my arms tighter around his neck, "'M gonna- gonna cum."

"You're doing so good for me," He praises, "Come, {Y/n}."

My juices spill over his fingers, I let out an exasperated sigh and arch my back into him. "Do you want more, my love?" He questions with a soft voice and I hurriedly nod in reply.

I fumble to get the zip to his pants down and I let out a whine as I struggle, L rubs the back of my neck to calm me down as I am being very needy in wanting him, to show me that he isn't going anywhere.

I finally unbuttoned and put down the zipper, he lifted his hips to help me pull down the fabric to his knees and I saw the growing bulge beneath his underwear, my mouth watered at the sight as I couldn't wait to have him inside me rearranging my insides. I pull down the fabric of his boxers and his length springs out and hits his stomach that was covered with his white shirt, L lets out a hiss at the action.

I hold the base of his length and give it a light squeeze while a breathy moan leaves his mouth as I trace the veins on the underside of his cock with my thumb. My hand travels up and down his dick rubbing the strings of pre-come that leaks from him, the moans continue to slip out of L's mouth.

I drag my body up once more while aligning myself with him and draping his swollen tip against my folds. A moan leaves my throat and a hiss respectively leaves his own. I sink myself down on his length and we both hold onto each other tightly. I messily pressed my lips against his and the ecstasy within my body continued to grow as the pleasure grew.

In a moment of unspoken desire and passion, I lean in closer to L, my intent clear in my eyes. Our lips meet in a messy kiss, and the world around us seems to fade away. My heart races, and a cascade of emotions courses through me as I press my lips firmly against his. The taste of the moment lingers on our tongues as move my hips against his.

His cock hits that soft gummy place within my walls making me whimper against the kiss with L's groans reciprocating the pleasure. His hands massage my waist as he helps me carry his weight as I ride him.

"Hah~," I moan pulling away from his mouth as I feel him guiding my hips faster I bury my head within his neck and I nibble on the flesh causing L to tilt his head back at the sensation. I then realised that I had left a mark and that he'd have to cover the red splotch up but that didn't matter. I was so close to coming that my whole body felt weak underneath his warm touch.

I started to chant his name in desperation of wanting to come and I felt his hand press against my lower abdomen making me let out a high-pitched whine as the pleasure coursed through me even higher. "Come on, you can do it," L reassures me, "Come for me, love."

I let the coil in my stomach release and I felt L's own come spill within me that carried a moan from him. I let myself slump against him with his cock still sitting within my gummy walls. Nuzzling myself closer to him he wraps his arms around me. "What did you want to tell me?" He questions delicately against the shell of my ear making me shiver.

"I was visiting the orphanage because the kids missed me and Near asked me something..."

"Yes, love? What was that?"

"You probably already know but I took a test only because the poor baby Near was worried about me," I say remembering how embarrassed Near looked when he asked if I was pregnant, "It came back positive..."

"I already knew that you were pregnant, love. It was just a moment of time before you realised yourself," L says rubbing the back of my head reassuringly.

"You're not mad, are you?"

"I could never be mad at you, my love."

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rippersz · 8 months

Text

𝙻𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚊 𝚆𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚜: 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜 (#1)

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Keep in mind: This is my personal view of Larissa Weems. If you disagree with any of my headcanons, then you’re WRONG. (That’s a joke; everyone is entitled to their own vision.) Enjoy.

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- Larissa’s go-to vice is a drink. Wine and coffee, mainly. She enjoys white wine like Moscato because it’s sweet, but if she’s in an angsty mood and wants something drier, she’ll shoot for red. Coffee is never taken black - there’s always at least two sugars and a bit of half & half. Not too dark, not too light. Had in the morning and with lunch. Hot chocolate is an indulgence when she needs to soothe herself.

- On the topic of drinks, Larissa doesn’t drink enough water. She knows it. Every year, at least one of her New Year’s resolutions is to drink more water. Does it happen? ….No. Although, she does keep a semi-full glass beside her bed to satiate that middle-of-the-night thirst. (Yes, she has tiredly knocked over the glass once or twice. No, she will not admit that.) Larissa also enjoys filtered water - she will avoid tap as much as she can.

- Is she a smoker? Nah. Maybe once or twice in her younger years, but she cares far too much about her appearance to form a habit. She reasons the scent will get in her hair and clothes and the effects will stain her teeth and ruin her lung capacity/health. She can’t go around smelling like a cigarette now, can she? However, if she’s ultra stressed and everything has gone to shit - she’ll either take one from a trusted colleague or close friend or buy a pack from a convenience store on a whim. It will be short lived, with one or two puffs coming out of it, before she’s stomping it into the ground and throwing the rest away (waste of money, yes, but it’s her way of punishing herself for even doing it in the first place.)

- That all being said, Larissa does have a secret attraction for those who smoke. It, admittedly, looks quite cool. Especially on the handsome/pretty punks of the world… so she’ll catch herself staring a bit too long before looking away. Some of them catch her eye and smoothly offer up a cig, but she never takes it. Attractive, handsome package, yes, but not very nice breath.

- And that’s another thing - Larissa absolutely loathes the prospect of smelling bad. She has breath mints in her desk drawer, Listerine strips in her purse, and a pack of gum in the Nevermore van. She’s a busy woman with many people to meet, so talking closely and with confidence is absolutely key - knowing her breath isn’t stellar immediately sets her off rhythm. It’s a similar thing for scent overall. People like those who smell good; especially when forced to spend hours working with them. So out of necessity and pure self-pleasure, Larissa has a small perfume collection. Though the brands and bottles are not terribly mainstream. She likes the light floral scents for work and professional outings, but for everything else, Larissa likes to spritz on a deeper, more masculine scent. Nothing too strong, but definitely a smell leaning more toward cologne. Hearing the ‘You smell good’ compliment - or any variation of it - has her smiling internally for the rest of the day. And of course, she keeps a small back-up roll on perfume (a good safe in-between scent) in her purse. She knows very well that she has to use all of the perfumes at some point, yet she cannot stop herself from buying at least one more. Call it a guilty pleasure. Safe to say, she smells bloody amazing.

- Larissa also has very steady hands. If you think that’s a weird headcanon, it isn’t. She was in the cake decorating club in her Nevermore days and found some therapeutic uses there. Getting lost in the designs- the swirls, the dots, the sweet icing- was a favorite pastime. The fact that her hands almost never shake (unless jostled) also helps when doing her makeup, typing, writing, etc.

- Of course she can just shift and put some energy into holding up a face full of makeup for an entire day, but she finds the process soothing. Doing it herself reminds her of her humanity and the little nuances that come with being a refined woman. She likes to darken her brows and line her lips and spend a minute or two perfecting certain things. For a woman who is self-critical, it is important (to her) that she tries to heal that side of herself by becoming better acquainted with her natural flaws. Call it a form of exposure therapy, as well as a calming exercise. Though on the days when she’s running extra late or is simply too tired/lazy to go through the process, she shifts into a simple but professional ‘non-makeup’ makeup look and calls it a day.

- Shifting too, has given her a few unexpected little advantages. One of the most prominent ones being the fact that she’s ambidextrous. She was originally born with a more dominant right hand, but as the years went by and she explored her ability, the occasional familiarity with left-handed people accelerated her use of that hand. Eventually, it left her with equal use and she’s able to perform tasks very well with both hands. Writing, balancing, exercising, etc. are done with about the same level of skill.

- Although Larissa’s sexuality is not clarified (or touched upon at all really) within the show, aside from her old attraction to Gomez (which I don’t fucking believe to be true but that’s neither here nor there), I do think it’s safe to say she could be pansexual. As a woman who has been surrounded by outcasts for quite a bit of her life, considering her Nevermore school days and her life as the principal, she’s been exposed to all types of beings. Larissa is not the kind of woman to be prejudiced or judgy or have a severe preference, so her attraction for others would not be found in one specific type of person. She may find herself going through spells of being more attracted to feminine-presenting people, just as she could experience a stretch of time in which she’s more into masculine-presenting people. If she’s interested in them, she doesn’t see why their gender-identity should matter so much to the point of it being a ‘make or break’ topic. She likes who she likes - simple as that. (Though that being said, I will still continue to ship her with non-binary/female characters/ocs/reader-inserts. Cuz why not.)

- Moving on, Larissa Weems is a sun sneezer. If she looks up at the sun or walks outside and it’s very sunny, or even if she peers at it through a window or sees its shine behind her eyelids, she will sneeze. And it’s not a big loud crazy sneeze. It’s one of those big inhale, eyes closed, stunted kind of sneezes where she sounds like a kitten. Small sneeze for a tall woman.

- Before being enrolled at Nevermore, Larissa was originally placed into the normie schooling system. It was rough and mean, but one good experience she got out of it was the swim team. Her stature, with the long limbs and broader shoulders, aided in her victories. The schedule and regiment was difficult, considering she had to practice and train nearly constantly, but the satisfaction she felt after winning was a glory she rarely felt when young. Her mother was… well. She was not nice. So she pushed young Larissa far more than she had any right to, but part of her older self thanks her mother for her efforts. Although it was just a swim team, she’s sure that without the discipline, she probably wouldn’t be so successful. And for as great as that time could be, it also came with its fair amount of trauma, so she doesn’t talk about it. She doesn’t often like to think about it either. Though the swimming did change her body, giving her some toned muscle and better lung capacity.

- Larissa Weems loves slippers. So soft… so comfy… makes little shuffles on the floor… yes. Slippers.

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Going through a period of immense self-hatred, so I hope this can tide a few people over until I learn that applause does not equal self worth. Love you more than I can say and I hope you’re all doing well. - Rip x

(P.s. Please do let me know if you’d like more of these.)

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#rippersz #fanfictionwriter #fanfic #fanfiction #larissa weems #gwendoline christie #wednesday larissa weems #headcanons #Larissa Weems headcanons #principal larissa weems #ripleysheadcanons #larissa weems x reader #larissa weems x you #larissa weems x y/n

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