#What the fuck are his face lines tho

[hajihiko]

Akane on the mend post-wakeup :')

#akane owari #nekomaru nidai #Sdr2 #Super danganronpa 2 #Danganronpa 2 #danganronpa 2 goodbye despair #akanidai #Weight gain as healing <3<3<3 it means a lot to me #I got a lot of help getting to the 'green' aka being on the optimal weight scale and not the red underweight scale #From friends who took care of me <3 #Akane getting back to being healthy is love #Also surprisingly she and nekomaru are pretty cute #What the fuck are his face lines tho #an art #akane #nekomaru

[collegeoflore]

filing these under “lines that make xarrai feel extremely normal” as well.

#this whole conversation is a lot for them. LMAO. #i have actually fully rewritten this one as a dialogue study too bc it’s like. a very important moment for them but #idk man. i wish u could argue with him more in game LOL #this convo makes me and xarrai both batshit insane tho LOL #the inbuilt banite ambition they run from but cannot shake (let him take this power and then take it from him) #vs the love for him they refuse to admit is love (this will ruin him) #they don’t WANT this power and they don’t want him to have it but they can’t shake the part of them that plots out how to get it. #but they have to be better than what made them or none of it was worth it etc etc etc i am rambling. anyway. bye #oc. xarrai #r. hold me like a knife #(for durge!xar they r much more like ‘idk if this is a good idea but i will maybe help u??’) #(canon!xar is (after they get over their knee jerk reaction of Oooh I Want It) is very directly to his face like ‘this is an awful idea.’) #realized these tags r not even about the lines in the screenshots. lol. #the whole ‘what cazador did was only wrong because it happened to *me*’ cuts them like a fucking knife tho LOL #it’s such a flagrant rejection of everything xarrai has said to him by this point. and he doesn’t even recognize it as one LOL #but xar hears that as ‘every bit of genuine emotion you’ve shown me and the trust u put in me with ur past meant nothing :) sowwie’ #‘it was only bad bc it happened to me and that means it’s not bad when ppl like cazador do things to ppl like u either :)’ #and they Know that’s not what he means. but instead of communicating like an adult they just seethe abt it LOL #okay sorry now i’m done. #lord only knows why i exclusively drop lore in the tags.

[babygirlcowboy]

Me watching the new strsy kids promo seeing these bitches in a fucking school bus with clown masks on knowing full well I will never be able to escape the cultural impacts of the Nolan Batman movies

#fucking 26 year old aussie boy chris i should have known you were a dark knight enjoyer #this is not me dissing on the dark knight series it is a good time but like...I just....wish...every where i looked #i didnt see his ((the jocker's)) face #like bitch im sick of this guy #the why so serious line in Cheshire and now this!??? #pls pls pls pls pls dc actually kill this man for me already his pussy is so rank #i hate it so much #anyway tho not to kpop post on main but like....wait i just remembered i literally have a side blog i vould do this on loolllll #staying here tho...listen to my words boy!!! #but uhhhh...okay now i cant remember what i was evem talking about #the memory issues are memory issuing #basically i want the joker dead and i think i should be the one who gets to do it

[rivaiin]

ok now that ive had a couple of hours to sit on it the new conversation with buzzo at the ending of joyful sucks absolute ass. i liked the rest of the new content Specially the new boss in painful but the stuff with buzzo is..............................

#wheres the nuance the care the love thats on the rest of the game #if we take what buddy says at face value its weird cause she barely knows who lisa is #so how could she know what kind of relationship she had with buzzo #and if we take it as buddy somehow channeling the spirit of lisa to spill that stuff its probably even worse #cause like whats the point of every other interaction between buzzo and lisa then #i sort of get the idea that they wanted to portray buzzo as a pathetic man but like. he already was #just maybe not in the same way as other pathetic characters #this mans been hung up on the same thing for his entire life but like. it was a life changing event. it Was traumatic #he blames everyone except the person that was actually hurting lisa and keeps taking some kind of fucked up responsability over it #even tho he was a child at the time too #hes not cool for deciding to carry out a lifelong revenge against someone that was as against the wall as he was #like i just dont get what was the point of it all #to rub it in that hes not over lisa after all this time? as if it want already obvious? #and the entire conversion is so awkwardly written #like i dont remember the exact line but when buddy says she knows cause shes a woman #as shown in literally the next post credits scene she doesnt know what a mother is but she has lived the Normal girl experience #honestly being a hater here but it doesnt feel like they would say that #speciallt after how good the rest of the new content is #the campfire conversations are wonderful and all the stuff from painfuls secret boss really fleshes out brad a lot more #Anyways i liked the de stuff but the price hike and the bugs and this really spoils the experience #at least the old version of the game is still there

[todayisafridaynight]

Its SO upsetting how often the bad guys don't get to have a lasting turnaround. You see it with random side characters, but c'mon guys. Just let them go to prison for a little while and have them come back. I promise you do not have to kill a character off, or base the character off a real life person, thus narrowing their chances of a return even thinner, while building up the possibility of a comeback. This franchise has cursed me with such lovable characters I'll never see again, and my heart can't keep at it like this.

I'm gonna have to just take that suddenly-dropped-off-a-cliff-storyline into my own hands. Gotta pick up all the slack. They're too good at giving tender, heart wrenching moments to characters we'll never see again. Way too good.

Not sure if you know the streamer Crystal, but her reaction to the ending of 3 was the most extreme I've ever seen. She was full on breakdown sobbing, and even the chat was asking if she was okay. RGG look at the hearts you're breaking out here 🙃 Also, your posts about Mine and that ending are beautiful, and you could talk about it a million times. It'll never get old.

the most egregious- pardon the pun- execution of this trope in rgg games is aoki's death.

like legitimately, his death did not need to happen. the past antagonists you could make a decent point for why their deaths were justified (ryuji's probably being the goofiest ngl) but aoki's felt as though rgg was just checking off a to-do list.

i don't really watch rgg content creators, but if someone could send me a clip of that i'd be down to watch: always a fan of watching people be emo over Y3's ending

and speaking of, thank you i have strong enough mental illness that all i can do is talk about that scene over and over again :)

#snap chats #the worst part is im only partially joking about being mentally ill #like i just think of that one directioner fan being a super fan until they took medication and then they were normal #pretty sure if i did the same I Too would have shut up four months ago but to our benefit/dismay medicine's hard to get so <3 #i am simply a dog chasing its tail and by that i mean i will simply talk about mine and y3's ending until i die #or until my mental illness latches onto something else idk #but yeah it sucks dick how rgg does so many great and emotional scenes #but like. we never get to fully see that pay off with characters like mine or aoki #like i want to see them have to face the consequences of their actions- ESPECIALLY mine #mine makes me the most deranged Obviously but i just want to know how daigo would react and treat him #we only get a semblance of how daigo felt after Y3 via the rggo story but its not enough #i want daigo to be upset with mine i want mine to HAVE to work things through with daigo #because unfortunately i dont think daigo would just cut mine off i think he still would try to figure out what the fuck was going on #idk i just need something to happen to mine that crushes him and has him rethink his ways a bit #'crushes' yk like. something beside the pavement--- #i wouldnt want him to totally change tho. i like him deranged but just channel that deranged behavior to their benefit #brb thinking about mine saying he wouldnt be acting up if daigo didnt get shot again jesus christ i think of that line every day #OK I HAVE TO GO DO A COMM RN ACTUALLY I'LL BE MENTALLY ILL LATER BYYYE FEEL FREE TO SEND ASKS AND ENABLE ME

[agayconcept]

hi hello i woke up to an emaillllllllll

guess it sent thru their automatic system bc i got it way outside of business hours which is why i'd stopped checking and didnt see it till today

point is APPARENTLY

IT WORKED. THE NEW DR IS GONNA GHOST-RUN MY HRT THRU THE CRAP DR UNTIL THE NEW YEAR WHEN I CAN TRANSFER MY TREATMENT TO HER OFFICE INSTEAD

it listed the next 3 dates n times they could fit me in (bc its literally a 15-20 min appt max so its nbd *angrily side eyes them for lying and telling me no slots would be available for weeks*) and ONE IS ON MONDAY. THIS MONDAY. 48 HOURS FROM NOW.

it says i have to call as soon as they open monday to claim a slot and if by then it's not available anymore then i'll have to pick a different one but i am gonna be the FIRST mf-ing person on that fuckin phone queue u bet ur ass

cause oh my god. first of all ???? YES, I AM, HOPEFULLY MOST LIKELY GETTING MY FULL HRT STARTED THIS WEEK. 🎉

second of all??? IT WOULD BE SO FUCKING COOL / FUNNY / ON BRAND IF MY OFFICIAL HRT START DATE/ANNIVERSARY WAS ON HALLOWEEN. THAT WOULD BE JUST. SO GOOD LMAO

idk so there's the update y'all. i should hopefully be starting treatment this week thanks to this new doctor's persistence and support. i'm very relieved, esp knowing its just for a few appts until the new year when i can switch over. fuck yes.

(for the inevitable question: no this doesnt erase the legal issues and report being done on my drs office. that will be ongoing. theyre also still witholding other things i need and denying me other services. BUT this?? this they cannae ignore any longer bc now multiple other drs, offices, legal reps and outreach workers have kept their phones ringing off the hook. wouldnt be surprised if the reason theyre giving in now is just to stop me & my backup from annoying the absolute shit out of them tbh. ah well idc why as long as it happens.)

anyway. time for happy dance? yes? lets make it seasonally appropriate

#biggest Hell Yeah to wake up to ngl #yes yes yes the power of intimidation and ruining reputations. works well dont it #gimme that gender juice babey #again it would be HILARIOUS if i could get it in on the monday so its Halloween that'd be chefs kiss #what r u going as for halloween this year? a trans person with human rights. #actually a freshly juiced fruit 😉 #but anyway idc what day rly as long as it Does happen this week bc if they try to put anything off again its gonna be a no-go #both from me bc fuck that and from them bc its their excuse to ignore it again #which i will not be allowing :-))))) #i will call all day. i do not care. the one decent receptionist marianne knows me so well by now bc of it #'hi you've reached-' 'it's me again' 'oh hi roan have they Still not called you back?' 'literally mari - when do they ever?' #then theres always a big audible sigh followed by some mumbling along the lines of 'what is wrong w them honestly....' #n then she'll bring the phone back to her face n be all 'i'm very sorry i'm gonna put you straight thru to their line and im gonna mark #it as urgent. and u know what actually im also gonna go knock on their door and tell them to pick it up.' 🤦‍♂️ #poor woman is the only one with a soul working there #gotta respect her for it tho

[scoreplings]

also helpful for remembering that my ex is a shithead im better off not having in my life is the fact that whenever i tell anyone how our relationship ended theyre horrified by the way he acted.

#am i embarrassed i put up with that as long as i did? yea #does it make me soooo happy im not putting up with it anymore? also yea <3 #helllppp a coworker asked me about it the other day so i explained it to him #and like a half hour later he put down the dishes he was washing and was like. dude what the FUCK i cant stop thinking about how messed up #that is #LOL yea dude i know. #n i wanna say hes evil but hes not really no one is. he just refuses to be accountable for what he does and makes selfish decisions. #he did not wake up and say ‘today i will make Aj soooo so sad and hurt him’ #he woke up and said ‘i want to date this guy but dont want to stop fucking this other guy. i will simply keep the boyfriend a secret from #the guy im fucking because i know they wouldn’t be okay with it. its a good thing im doing because they’d be sad if they knew!’ #or something along those lines. #dwelling on it is not good i think i am abt to go to sleep instead #makes me sad tho. good part of me hopes he pulls his head out of his ass and realizes he should treat the people who care about him better #selfish part of me hopes he ruins every relationship he has for the rest of his life and dies alone. (<- i dont actuslly want this id be so #sad. i am just mad because i am angry) #dwelling for 1 more second actually LOL he didnt even just keep the boyfriend a secret he lied to my face about it and spent six months #telling me he didnt even like the guy and wouldn’t date because he’d never want a relationship to get in the way of what we had. teehee #and that even if he did like the guy he’d never date him because he didnt want to hurt me like that. and he loved me. LOL. #after he told me he ghosted me for a week and when i finally got him to talk he said he regretted nothing and couldnt understand why i was #upset. hahaaha. and that i should keep it to myself and be happy for him. and that he was just with the guy because he was ‘more available’ #than i was. #teehee. sorry. i am dwelling again i just cannot get over how fucked it all is #and the boyfriend was my other best friend. teehee. and they are still together even though i explained what my ex did. <3 #i cannot wait to move oh my god i need to not see this mf every day at work or im gonna never stop thinking abt it. #whateverrr. i kiss my bf in two days 💚

[rowarn]

I just know that after that night, Victoria tried to call ONCE. Why once tho? Because Simon answered the phone in the middle of a very intense session, whispering in reader's ear to moan louder for him. After she heard the loud noises and Simon's soft voice she never tried to call him again.

simon riley / reader — set in the please love me universe!

fucking while on a call, jealousy, creampie, possessive!reader, vocal!simon <3

you were completely lost in pleasure, eyes rolled back in your head with simon's large body blanketing yours. your hand was clasped tightly in one his as he rutted his hips slowly and deeply, making sure to angle his hips just right so he could hit that sweet, gooey little spot inside you that made your entire body shiver with pleasure.

simon was obsessed with forcing your body to show every bit of what you were feeling. holding you down so you couldn't do anything but twitch and shake, forcing you to look at him so he could see the way your eyes filled with tears when he hit a little too deep.

he's slowly working you up to your 3rd orgasm of the night when the spell between the two of you is completely broken by the shrill ringing of his cell phone on the bedside table.

both of you freeze. it's not the ringing that comes when someone from the task force contacts him. the two of you share a brief look of confusion before he reaches over and grabs the device off of the night table.

you could see the second his facial expression changed and a sense of alarm rushed through you.

"what is it, si?" you ask, tugging his hand down so you could see his screen.

the number was immediately familiar to you -- it was her again. victoria. her name burns as it goes through your head.

to your horror, simon slid the call button over and answered, ignoring the indignation on your face. there's a coy little smile playing at the edge of his lips and you want to wipe it off because it's making you angry.

you can hear her shrill voice yapping away the second he answers, pressing the speaker button and tossing the device onto the bed.

you try to tune in to what she's saying but he starts rutting his hips, grinding his pelvis against your clit while he's got his cock snug inside your gooey cunt.

your eyes roll back at the feeling and you can't help the way you gasp from how good it feels.

"that's it, baby," simon coos, sitting back on his heels so he can bring his thumb down to lightly pet the swollen bud of your clit. the makes you moan louder and you faintly hear her voice from the phone ask, "si? what are you doing?"

hearing her call him that - so familiarly, like she has any claim over him makes you seethe.

simon grins when he sees that jealous flare in your eyes. he thinks it's cute - that you of all people are jealous. don't you know that he's completely and utterly devoted to you?

he pulls out just a little bit only to stuff his cock back inside. that pulls a beautiful moan from you that makes her go silent on the line. she calls his name again, clearly growing more agitated and humiliated.

"c'mon, sweetheart," he coos to you, "hold your legs for me, let me get real deep, yeah?"

you immediately do as you're told, wrapping your arms around your knees and pulling them back against your chest. the position allows him to get even deeper, pressing against that little spot deep inside that makes your toes curl and cries of pleasure rip from your chest.

he starts fucking your properly again, sticky sounds coming from between your thighs from how wet you are. your creamy arousal coats his cock and drips down his balls, making a mess of him all over but he loves it.

"oh! i-i'm gonna cum, si," you squeal, legs twitching in your hold but you don't let go, scared that if you move at all your orgasm will be lost and you'll have to start all over, "j-just like that, please don't stop!"

simon grits his teeth, biting back a moan of his own when he hears how sweetly you beg for him, "i know, baby. i'll get you there, you know i will."

you nod your head, eyes wide but vision blurry as it builds and builds until your entire body is tense. with one little pinch to your swollen clit, you cum with a wail of his name.

"shit. shit!" simon groans, tossing his head back to moan, "fuck, that's it. cum on my cock, cum, baby, cum. oh shit, i love you. i love you, i love you, i love you."

his body falls over yours, face buried in your neck as he fills you up just right, his cum oozing out from around the tight seal your cunt has around his cock. his pace gradually slows before he comes to a stop all together.

he reaches over to grab his phone, panting and trembling from how hard he came. when he looks at the screen, he snickers, turning to show you that the call had been disconnected.

you just hope she stayed around long enough to hear that he loves you and took the hint <3

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #ghost x reader #ghost smut #cod x reader #cod smut

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 4

in which spencer reid and inexperienced fem!reader are interrupted at the most inopportune of times. he calls you on the first night of his case. dirty talk turns into a hard conversation. we get a glimpse into spencer's past, and we finally learn why he's so hesitant to sleep with you.

part one | part two | bonus chapter | part three

part five

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: dirty talk, phone sex/mutual masturbation, softdom!spence, obligatory he talks u through it, lots of graphic discussions of sex, established relationship, angst (sorrryyy!) a/n: so remember how i said you'd need the bonus chapter to fully appreciate/understand this part? i was wrong!! it will come in handy probably in the next part tho:) also idk how these parts keep getting so long im sorry! anyway, i love you all so bad. thank you for bearing w/ my craziness. PLEASE let me know your thoughts on this part!! i adore hearing from you!! kisses

(also special thank you to @fliesforeyes who convinced me phone sex w/ spence could be done!! i will link his phone sex blurb here :)) thank u binx!!

“Three million six hundred eighty four thousand three hundred thirty two times fourteen million seven hundred sixty one thousand nine hundred seventy one.”

You’ve lost count of how many stupid math questions you’ve asked your human calculator boyfriend, just to see if he can actually do them. Spencer is silent for a second, and you think you’ve finally stumped him. 

“That one is complicated.”

You sit bolt upright in his bed, looking down at him and pointing an accusatory finger. His brows raise at the manic look in your eye. 

“You don’t know.”

“I do know. I meant it would be hard to explain if you aren’t a math person.”

“Bullshit!” You scoff, “you don’t know!”

“It would display on a calculator as five-point-three-eight-eight-E-thirteen. It’s a really big number.”

“Oh, really big, huh?” you mumble, searching for your phone blindly in the sheets and scrambling to open the calculator app. “Um… what numbers did I say?”

Spencer repeats them back to you and you press the equals sign. 

You look at it. 

And then you set your phone down. 

“I was right, huh?” he smiles up at you, probably reveling in your pouty wrongness. 

Too proud to admit it, you collapse on top of him, burying your face in his shoulder. 

“I don’t like this game anymore. What the fuck even is an e? Why are we doing algebra?”

Spencer laughs, brushing your hair aside. 

“The e stands for exponent. It’s to the power of ten.”

“Ever heard of a rhetorical question?”

“Yes, I have.”

It’s hard not to snort even at his dumbest jokes. 

“You’re annoying. Let’s do something else.”

You roll over onto your back again, letting your head flop over to look at Spencer, whose hair is exactly the right amount of messy after a long day, falling in impossibly soft waves over the perfect lines and contours of his face. Despite lounging, he’s still in his suit from work—he’d left Quantico and immediately picked you up. There were no solid plans for the evening, so after both of you pretended that you wanted to go out for a while, you ended up back at his apartment. 

He looks good. Almost too good. 

“Something like what?” he smiles lazily, reaching over and tracing his fingers over your cheek. 

“Something… naked?”

His grin widens and he shakes his head. 

“Me naked or you naked?”

Pretending to think about it, you roll your bottom lip between your teeth. 

“Mm… why not both?”

“Hm. Why do I feel like I know where this is going?”

The mattress sinks underneath your elbow as you prop yourself up, dropping your head over Spencer’s to kiss him. 

“Because you’re so smart, and you think it’s a great idea.”

He entertains your kiss for a moment. Just a moment.

“You sound sure of yourself.”

“Because I am!” You finally give in to your impulses, tangling your fingers in his hair and looking at him meaningfully. “It doesn’t make any sense for us to have not had sex. I don’t care about any of your weird, cryptic moral reasoning.”

He grabs your wrist carefully. 

“It is not moral,” he scoffs. “We haven’t even talked about it yet.”

“Really? Because I feel like we’ve talked about it a lot.” 

He begins to reply, but you realize you don’t want to get into a debate over whether you’ve technically talked about it yet. “I don’t even care! If that’s all that’s standing in your way, then let’s talk about it. Right now.”

Spencer sighs, his eyes darting between yours as he reaches up to cradle your cheek. 

“Fine. But I have things to say you’re not going to like.”

“So business as usual?”

He rolls his eyes. You allow yourself a tiny self-satisfied smirk, forever relishing in his poorly-hidden soft spot for your constant teasing. Spencer ignores this. Which is probably for the best. 

“I know you probably won’t see it this way, but—sex is different than everything else we’ve done so far. It can be really fun, obviously it feels good, it facilitates deeper feelings of connection—that’s all true. Which is why, in my opinion, it’s incredibly important that you be selective with who you sleep with. Because it’s so easy to do something you regret, and sex is vulnerable. It should always be with someone you trust and—and… care about.”

A pink flush stains his cheeks like watercolor as he stumbles over the last few words. It makes your heart flutter against the confines of your chest.

Maybe best not to think about the absence versus presence of certain four-letter words and what they may or may not mean. You’ll move on to more pressing matters and pretend like it doesn’t ache just a little in your whole body. 

You cover his hand with your own. 

“Are you going to break up with me anytime soon?”

Spencer’s eyes widen, filling with genuine horror and confusion. 

“What? No!”

“Are you going to cheat on me?”

“Absolutely not, I—”

“Then I’m not going to regret it. Issue resolved. Moving on.”

“Honey, I just want you to be 100% sure that I’m what you want.”

“Oh my god,” you groan, flopping onto your back once more. “I have begged you to sleep with me on multiple occasions. We have been dating for months and I liked you even longer before that. I think about it literally every time I see you. I don’t know how to be any surer.”

It’s quiet for a moment as you study the imaginary pattern on the ceiling. The rebuttal you’d been anticipating doesn’t come—instead, the mattress shifts next to you. Spencer enters your field of vision, now leaning over you with a little smile on his face that gives you butterflies. 

“Every time?”

“…yes, every time,” you agree, voice considerably thinner than it had been a moment ago. Spencer glances at your lips as he speaks. 

“Interesting. And what is it that you think about exactly?”

You groan again, attempting to roll facedown, but he pins your shoulder to the bed. The way he’s sweetly kissing down your cheek and jaw is infuriating because you know it’s a false pretense. 

“Ugh, I don’t know! Don’t make me answer that!”

“You said if talking about it was all that was standing in my way, we would talk about it. Now I want to talk about it. Come on,” he says, voice low and cloying against your throat as he attempts to tease the answer out of you. “Tell me what you think about when you think about us having sex.”

You let out a shaky breath at the feeling of his lips skimming your neck, hating how easily he can reduce you to this. 

“I… I always wonder what it will feel like. Sometimes I wonder if it will hurt.”

Spencer sighs, interrogation by way of seduction momentarily forgotten. You silently curse yourself for saying something so un-sexy. 

“It might, sweetheart. That’s one of the reasons we’ve held back. I… really don’t want to hurt you. I don’t even know if I can.”

You grab his face in both hands, forcing him to look at you with more confidence than you feel. 

“Sometimes I worry about it, too. But I like you a lot more than it scares me. I still want to.”

He kisses your palm. 

“You’ll be okay. It doesn’t hurt for everyone, and even if it does, you’re resilient.”

“Exactly. So you have to get over yourself.”

Spencer laughs like he wasn’t expecting to, eyes sparkling as he regards you.  

“Yeah. Yeah, maybe I do.”

He’s smiling again as he leans down and kisses you—a slow, lingering thing which tastes like spearmint as you part your lips for him. 

“Please?” you whisper against him after a long moment. He hums, keeps kissing you. 

“What is it that you think you want? You don’t even know what you’re asking for.”

“Tell me,” you beg, chasing his lips. “Tell me what you’re going to do with me. We can talk about it. This is talking about it.”

Spencer exhales deeply, wedging a thigh between yours. Immediately you clamp around it, trying not to grind against him too overtly. 

“You want to know what I’d do to you?”

“Yes—” you paw at his jacket. Surprisingly, he doesn’t stop you from pushing it off. Your heart pounds. 

“Well… we both know how anxious you get,” he muses, pressing his lips so delicately to your fluttering pulse-point in emphasis, and then back to your mouth. His thigh pushes harder against you to supplant the absence of his lips as he speaks, though he kisses you sporadically and between sentences. “You’re hard to get out of your head when you’re nervous, you know that? I watch it happen. One minute you’re with me, and then you start overthinking, and getting self-conscious. The only thing that seems to relax you is letting me touch you—so first I would touch you like I’ve touched you before. I’d make sure you know how pretty you are and how good you deserve to feel.” You whimper inadvertently at his words, arching into him and grinding against his leg as he pauses to kiss the sensitive soft spot below your jaw. “You’re going to need to be really ready to let me in. Do you know what I mean by that?”

As he asks, he pushes his thigh against you harder. Your body responds immediately, arching into him and seeking more friction. When you squeak, he takes it as a no. 

“I mean I need you relaxed and wet. You’ll excuse my crude language.”

You pull at his tie, breathing heavier now and so turned on it’s almost painful. 

“What are you gonna do after that?”

“What else is there to do but fuck you after that?” he breathes. “You want me to tell you how I’d fuck you?”

Something about it makes you whine salaciously. You’ve heard him curse—you’ve even heard him talk about fucking you. But it feels more real now; when it’s low in your ear and you’re covertly undressing him and he’s pushing your shirt over your stomach promisingly. 

“Yes, please.” 

He hums against your jaw, nipping and brushing his lips over the skin as he considers. Leaves you waiting. 

“I would have to take my time with you. You’ll be overwhelmed. I know you think you won’t, but you will. I’m going to have to be so, so careful with you, angel. It’s going to drive me insane. But it will feel good for you.”

“Why careful? I don’t want that.”

He chuckles. A chill runs down your spine. 

“Yeah, you do. You’re going to want me to be careful when I’m—” he pauses, pressing his thumb to your bare lower tummy and dragging up to a spot below your belly button. He presses down lightly again. “Right here. Approximately.”

The surface of the sun has nothing on the temperature of your skin in this moment, as you writhe underneath him in both arousal and embarrassment. Mostly, burning need. You feel almost sick with it. 

“Please don’t make me wait anymore. Just do it, please, Spencer. I need it to be you, I don’t want it to be anyone else. I promise I’m ready.”

It’s silent for a moment. Your heart quickens. You sense his walls wearing away, his instinct to keep you intact for god knows what reason crumbling. He’s finally going to give you what you’ve been begging for. 

Spencer opens his mouth, eyes glimmering—

And then his phone rings. 

You both freeze—he melts dejectedly before you do, more accustomed to an ill-timed phone call and realizing the finality it can present. 

He’s breathing heavily against your neck, as if maybe whoever it is will just hang up. But the phone keeps ringing. 

“I’m sorry.”

Your stomach sinks as he sits up, grabbing his phone from the side table and rubbing circles on your inner thigh as he answers.

“This is Reid,” he says, lackluster. 

If you wanted, you could hear what Penelope is saying—but you don’t bother listening. It’s going to be a case. Spencer is about to leave. The details are his problem. 

“Okay. I’ll be there in an hour.”

He hangs up, tossing the phone onto the mattress and not speaking for a moment, just continuing to rub your leg apologetically. Watching you almost mournfully—taking in your disheveled hair, your likely blown-out pupils, the shirt pushed almost over your chest. 

“I have to go right now,” he finally manages with a heavy sigh, gently pulling your shirt back into place. 

You sit up, shedding all the hopes that had been building for the evening, and try to sound chipper—though all you feel is bitter disappointment that goes deeper than you understand. 

“I know. Go ahead, I can get a cab home.”

He frowns, running his hand over the back of your hair. 

“I don’t love the idea of you standing on the sidewalk waiting for a car in this part of town so late. Do you just want to stay here for the night and go home tomorrow?”

You force a smile. Great. So you’ll be spending the night in his bed after all—just without him. 

“Sure. Thanks.”

“Yeah.”

Neither of you are feeling particularly grateful. 

Soon you’re walking him to his own door. Both of you come to a stop in front. 

“I’m sorry,” he sighs again. 

“Spencer, it’s fine. It’s your job. You don’t need to apologize. You were very clear about this part when we started dating.”

“I know, but… it’s easier in theory than in practice.”

You smile. If Spencer is a reflection of you, it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. His hair is still messy from your fingers running through it and he’s missing his tie. You hope all his coworkers see and feel bad about taking him away from you. 

But it’s not their fault. You just want someone to blame. 

Instead you mould yourself to his body, wrapping around him like you belong there. He returns your embrace, pressing his lips into the crook of your shoulder and rubbing your back in that way he always does with you. 

In that moment, your affection for him becomes so profound it’s like a chemical reaction—everywhere he touches burns and you love him so fucking much it aches in every inch of your body the way your muscles do when you have a bad fever. Love is the most terrible of afflictions, you realize. It is a fever dream. It’s every fiber of your being screaming to tell him how you feel, to beg him on your knees not to go because you love him like a child loves a parent or a bee loves honeysuckle or the ocean loves the horizon. Pared down to your most basic components, the barest version of yourself, you require him. Your soul needs his soul. 

“Spencer?”

“Hm?” 

It’s nothing more than an absentminded hum against your skin. 

“I…”

Should you be looking him in the eye when you say this? Should you say it right before he has to leave? Just because you say it doesn’t change the fact that he’s about to be gone for several long days. Maybe this is a terrible time to admit something that suddenly feels so true and so consequential. 

He senses your internal conflict, pulling back despite your resistance and holding your face between his hands. 

“You what?” He murmurs, soft eyes bouncing back and forth between your own. Fuck—you feel so observed, now. Like he can read your mind. 

“I forget.”

FUUUUUUCK. 

Spencer blinks. Processes. You watch the disbelief crystallizing over his eyes like ice freezing over a lake. 

He knows. 

He knows you didn’t forget, and he probably knows what you were going to say, and he’s going to tell himself he was wrong to spare your dignity. 

Everything hurts when he kisses you. You wonder what regret tastes like. 

“Well, let me know if you remember.”

It’s too gentle and at the same time he can’t hide the edge with all the tenderness in the world. You nod as if in a trance, already looking forward to dissociating as you lie in bed and stare at the dark ceiling.

Two small goodbyes are exchanged, slightly stifled now, as if shared between drunk strangers who have sobered up and are mutually embarrassed about how candidly they’d interacted before. 

You close the door behind him, doing up all the locks, and meticulously flick every light switch in the apartment off before climbing into his bed—though you don’t really feel like you deserve to be there anymore.

But perhaps this is all an overreaction. It’s not like you owe it to him to say I love you, or anything—it was bad timing, anyway. And why can’t he say it? In fact, why hasn’t he said it? 

Maybe you have it all wrong. 

Maybe he doesn’t feel that way about you. 

You fall asleep before you allow these questions to make you sick. 

24 hours go by. 

24 hours go by and you really had meant to leave his apartment—it was just that you woke up late, and your phone was dead so you couldn’t call a car, so you charged it while you made breakfast, and then you ate, and then you decided to take a shower and wash your clothes, and then it was two in the afternoon and you hadn’t left yet and you decided to walk to the store and replenish the groceries you’d used up. 

Maybe you got a bit distracted looking at flowers and other beautiful things at the market and by the time you got home it was 5:00, so you decided to wait until seven to skip rush hour. And then eight, just to be sure. 

Before you know it, it’s midnight, and you’re dozing off in his bed again (teeth cleaned with the brush you’d bought at the store—maybe this whole situation hadn’t been entirely unwitting on your part.)

Throughout the day, you tried to let all your anxiety about the previous night melt away. If it’s something that needs to be addressed, Spencer will address it. Everything will work out in the end. That thought is how you’re able to doze off. 

You’re almost asleep when your phone lights up and begins buzzing on the side table. You wince as your eyes open, not adjusting well to the harsh bright display and unable to discern who’s even calling you at this hour. Stupidly, probably because you’re half asleep, you answer without checking. 

“Hello?”

Your voice is groggy, quiet with sleep. 

“Shit, did I wake you?”

“Spence?” you whisper, stomach flipping at the sound of his voice on the other line. You feel caught, still sleeping in his bed. 

“… yeah,” he chuckles. “Did you not check who was calling before you picked up?”

“I was asleep,” you pout. “Kinda.”

“Okay. Go back to sleep, honey. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

You sit bolt upright, phone balanced between tense fingers and speaking directly into the microphone. 

“No! No, I’m awake. What’s up? Why did you call?”

A longer stretch of silence—you’re too sleepy to comprehend what it might mean, though never too sleepy to worry about it. With a pang of pain, you recall your strange goodbye, the words you hadn’t said. 

“I just needed to hear your voice,” he sighs. You frown, staring at nothing in particular in the pitch black room. 

“Oh. Is everything okay?”

“As much as it can be.”

“Right.”

More quiet. You chew on the inside of your cheek, stricken with a sudden feeling of awkwardness that you haven’t had with Spencer in a while. 

“I’m sorry… I don’t really know what to say.”

“That’s okay,” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice which makes you feel a bit better, “why don’t you tell me about your day? Or you can absolutely go back to sleep, if you’re too tired.”

“Don’t ask me about my day,” you whisper, flopping down on the bed once more. Shame seeps into your voice. He laughs. 

“What? Why?”

“Because if I tell you you’re going to think I’m super weird and you’re going to break up with me.”

Laughter tapers off into gentler tones. 

“I already think you’re super weird. It’s actually one of your most attractive qualities.”

Blood rushes to your cheeks. 

“But it’s like… borderline crazy.”

Immediately, he replies, “for better or worse, I also frequently find myself attracted to crazy.”

“Thank you for calling me crazy and super weird,” you grumble. 

“I also called you attractive twice. Tell me.”

When his tone takes on that easy, assertive quality, and it’s sort of raspy and low because it’s late and he’s been talking all day, and you can hear the lazy smile on his face—you imagine him laying on his hotel bed, arm slung over his eyes in the dark as he grins into the microphone—you have a very difficult time saying no. 

“Fine. Guess where I am right now.”

“Um, I would hope you’re in bed?”

You smile to yourself, basking in the victory of successfully throwing him off his game even slightly. 

“Guess whose bed.”

Silence. 

“What an interesting question.” That cocky smile, the low drawling is back, and you chew on your lip, ignoring the shiver that runs down your spine. “If it’s not mine or yours, we’re going to have issues.”

“But if it is yours? You’re not going to call the police on me?”

“Why would I call the police? To tell them there’s a pretty girl in my bed and I don’t want her there?”

“To tell them your psychopathic girlfriend broke into your apartment and might be holding hostages there.”

Spencer laughs; a brittle, drawn out thing, flat and quiet as the desert.

“If you were a psychopath, calling the cops would be a waste of time. I would handle you myself.” The idea of being handled has your thighs clenching. “But—yeah, don’t invite anyone else in.” More humor finds its way into his voice, momentarily relieving some tension that had sneakily begun to build. “Having people in my space makes me anxious.”

“But not me?” Your whisper is half flirtatious, half insecure. Spencer’s reply is soft, as if he’s picking up on this from hundreds of miles away.

“No, not you. You are always the exception.”

“Good,” you say, cheeks aching as you half-bury your warm face into his pillow. “Because I made myself really comfortable. You have a nice shower, by the way.”

Spencer groans. 

“You’re killing me.”

“What? What did I do!”

“Don’t talk to me about my bed and my shower. I might start to think you’re intentionally being a brat.”

“You asked me about my day! I’m just telling you what I did!”

But you’re also intentional teasing him for sure.  After a pause, he sighs in defeat. 

“You’re right. I did do that. Tell me what else happened.”

“Well,” you begin, all too eager, “I had to put my clothes in the dryer after I got out, so I borrowed some of yours. But then they were way comfier than mine, so after I went to the store I put them back on, and—”

“Okay.”

“Okay what?” you frown. 

“Tell me what this is.”

“I—I don’t know what you mean.”

Lying to a profiler is usually pointless. 

“I’m not stupid, sweetheart. Tell me why you keep talking about my shower and my bed and my clothes.”

Caught red-handed. Your skin heats up. 

“I don’t know. I miss you.”

He hums in a way that blurs the line between sympathetic and patronizing. Even through the phone you can feel the bass of it in your bones.  It changes the frequency you’re vibrating at. It’s hypnotic. 

“But that’s not really why you’re being intentionally provocative, is it?”

“No,” you admit quietly. “I’m still upset you had to go last night.”

“So you’re frustrated and you’re taking it out on me?”

Your brow furrows. Well, when he puts it like that…

“I’m not taking anything out on you.”

“I think you are. And I don’t appreciate that, because I’m on your side, honey. Do you think I prefer being in a hotel bed by myself or being in my bed with you?”

Somehow, he makes you feel like a scolded child. But he makes it appealing in ways you don’t understand. 

“Your bed with me,” you murmur, skin prickling with the coldness of his absence even as you curl under the blanket. 

“Right. So why don’t you tell me what I can do for you right now, instead of punishing me for things that are beyond my control?”

“I wasn’t punishing you,” you mutter. 

“No? You weren’t intentionally talking about using my shower and sleeping in my bed and putting on my clothes so that I’d have to think about what I can’t have right now?”

“I—”

“Believe me when I tell you I have been thinking about what I can’t have, all day. Your efforts are entirely redundant and you can’t say anything about yourself that is even close to as dirty as the frankly disrespectful thoughts I’ve been having about you for seventeen hours.”

The lack of air is making you so dizzy your vision goes gray at the edges. 

“What… what thoughts?”

“None that you need to concern yourself with.”

“You can’t just say something like that and then not tell me!” you insist. He’s obviously giving you a taste of your own medicine and it’s fair but it doesn’t mean you have to like it. 

“I can do whatever I want,” Spencer corrects cooly in a way that pisses you off beyond belief because he’s right. It triggers some adolescent immaturity within you—a desire to get back at him, so to speak. He wants intentionally provocative? He can have it. 

“Fine. Then so can I. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it even if I could.”

“Spencer,” you warn. “If you don’t tell me what you were thinking I’m gonna—” you look around the room for ammo. “I’m gonna look through your nightstand!”

“Go ahead. I’ll warn you, it’s not very interesting.”

“Sounds like what someone who has something hide would say,” you mumble, crawling across the mattress through tangled sheets and using your phone flashlight to open the drawer. 

Spencer is patient and silent as you take in its contents—a small blue leather-bound notebook (full of what looks like Russian), a fountain pen, a glasses case, various kinds of vitamins, and—

“Spencer Reid,” you say, dragging out his name and pretending nothing is fluttering in your stomach, “what are these?”

“I don’t know. I can’t see what you’re referring to.”

“Take a wild guess.”

“Oh, I have one. But I’d like to hear you say it.”

You realize you may have gotten yourself in deeper than you meant to by going through his stuff. Well—they don’t say karma is a bitch for nothing. 

“What are you doing with a box of condoms?” 

He chuckles and you feel it in your whole body, warm as you stretch across his mattress and eye the box like it might jump out at you. 

“Those are years old. I’ve used three since I bought them.”

“Don’t tell me that,” you whine. “I don’t wanna think about all the other women you’ve seduced.”

“You wanted them to be for you, huh?” 

You flush. Honestly you hadn’t even thought about that. 

“I… I don’t know. I kind of just assumed…”

It’s silent for a second and you frown, realizing you hadn’t even considered protection when you’d imagined sleeping with him before. 

“You assumed what, honey?” he asks, voice soft. 

“It’s dumb. I can’t tell you.”

“You can tell me anything. I’m not going to think it’s dumb, I promise.”

You chew on your lip, letting your eyes unfocus on the box as you muster the courage to be honest. 

“Whenever I imagined it… we didn’t… use anything.”

The words make you cringe even as you’re saying them. So does the quiet that follows. 

“When you imagine us sleeping together, we don’t use a condom?”

“Ah!” The phone drops to the mattress as you cover your ears and roll onto your side, curling into yourself once more. “You didn’t have to say it! You make me sound so weird!”

“It’s not weird,” he laughs, because he can probably imagine exactly what you just did, “I just wanted to make sure I was understanding you. That said… we would definitely use protection.”

“Do we have to?”

The quiet words take even you by surprise—and they seem to stun Spencer as well. Several false starts are punctuated by a sigh as he gathers his thoughts. 

“We really should, baby. That’s the kind of thing we need to take seriously.”

“But you’re… you’re good, right?”

Thankfully he picks up on your meaning. 

“I am. I wouldn’t touch you if I weren’t.”

“And I’m good. So...”

“Hm. And has anyone ever explained to you where babies come from?”

You groan in frustration. 

“Spencer, I’m being serious! There are ways to negate that.”

“Honey,” he murmurs, “I understand that. But it would be irresponsible of me to say yes. We can talk about it in the future, but—”

“I’m telling you it’s already dealt with. The chances of an accidental pregnancy are slim to none.”

The new information hangs in the air for a moment until Spencer speaks—to your surprise, his voice is low and humorous. 

“That is… good to know. But even so—I’m setting a dangerous precedent if I always let you get exactly what you want.”

“Is it such a bad thing that I just wanna—I wanna know what it feels like? You don’t want that?”

“That’s not what I said. I want to know exactly what you feel like. I’m just hesitant to give in so quickly because it makes me look weak.”

You laugh breathlessly, caught between being turned on by the first part of his sentence and amused by the sarcastic second half. Your thighs clench and your hand absentmindedly wanders between them. 

“You know what I was thinking about?” you ask. Spencer hums curiously. “I was thinking about when you let me, um… when you let me touch you how you touch me.” He hums again, but you can hear the amused curve of a smile in it now.

“When you had your mouth all full of me and you looked so pretty?”

“When I—yeah,” you agree, too caught up to deny his compliment as your fingers brush your most sensitive spot through clothing. “And  how you got me all messy after. And I was wondering what it would feel like… inside me.”

He sucks in a breath. Your legs brush against each other and you twist slightly as you pretend like you’re not touching yourself just a little bit. 

“You want me to come inside you?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, brain short-circuiting at the way those words sound in his voice. 

—

On the other side of the line, Spencer isn’t doing a fantastic job of thinking clearly either. His dick is half-hard already and it’s only getting worse with each little noise you make that you don’t seem to realize you’re making. 

“Really? That would be very messy, baby. I’m surprised that’s what you want.”

“But I really want it,” you breathe. He’s not even looking as he slips his hand under the waistband of his pajamas and palms himself, his other hand rubbing tiredly over his face as his phone rests on his chest. This was not how he intended for this call to go, believe it or not—but he’s here now. 

“Yeah? Is that why you’re touching yourself right now?”

You go silent—which is more or less exactly the reaction Spencer had been expecting. Patiently he waits for you to deny it, in three, two—

“’M not.”

Now, he could explain how he knows that’s a lie. How your breathing pattern changed, and your voice got softer and airier, and how you started speaking with smaller words in fragmented sentences. But he doesn’t feel like explaining any of that. 

“I know that’s not true,” he murmurs. “You know what? It wasn’t fair to get you all worked up last night and then leave. I don’t want you frustrated, honey. I want you to do whatever you need to do.”

You make a little gasping noise, and Spencer can imagine the way your back would arch when you did it. His own hips buck slightly as his dick twitches under his fingers. 

“Where are you touching?”

“Um—over my clothes.”

Cute. 

“Go under them for me. Tell me how it feels when you’re touching yourself like that.”

It takes a moment, in which all he hears is the rustling of fabric, until you’re whispering, “feels… it feels good. I wish you were here.”

He inhales, freeing his cock and squeezing the base. 

“I know. Just listen to my voice, pretty. I’m right here.”

Spencer allows himself a few slow tugs as he imagines what’s happening in his bed. You make a squeaking noise, like a held-back moan, and his eyes screw shut. 

“I need them inside,” you whine, and he knows you’re referring to his fingers—the ones currently stroking his own leaking cock. 

“You can use your own, just give yourself a minute first. Remember what I said about needing to be ready?”

“I am ready—” judging by the surprised chirp you interrupt yourself with, you’ve proven yourself right. What surprises Spencer is the weak sound of disappointment you make next. “Spence, it doesn’t feel the same.”

“We’re different sizes, honey. Your hands aren’t as big as mine. But you can still make it feel good.” 

He almost says, 90% of the nerves in the vaginal canal are located in the lower third—in other words, within approximately 2.36 inches from the opening, which you can most certainly reach—but he refrains. He’s not sure if that’s good dirty talk. 

“You have a really sensitive spot about three inches up, right in front. It’s going to feel a little different than the rest of you when you touch it. I want you to try and find it for me, okay?”

“Okay,” you breathe, ever-eager to please even from a great distance. There’s a quiet moment. “I can’t—I don’t think I can r—oh,”

The moan is so pretty Spencer can’t help speeding up the motion of his hand, hissing slightly as his fingers brush against the angry tip with every pump. 

“Did you find it?”

“Yeah,” you whine, a weak, high-pitched thing. “Oh my god.”

“Be gentle,” he warns with some effort as his own hips jump slightly. “You’re really sensitive there. If you’re not careful you’ll make yourself sore.”

“I don’t care—holy shit—” the way your voice rises and tightens to a squeak at the end has Spencer moaning as he fucks his fist. A black hole forms and warps time, turning every minute into a second and every second into an infinity until he has no idea how much time is going by. He drags his thumb over the tip, smearing precum over his cock and whining as his jaw drops at the feeling. “Oh my god, Spencer,” in that same strained, high voice. “’M gonna—ah!”

He gets the general sentiment. 

“What, baby? You’re gonna make yourself come all over your fingers? Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

“Mhm!”

“Yeah, I bet you are. It feels good, huh?”

“Yes,” you cry. 

“See? You don’t need my fingers to feel good. Mine barely fit, you know that? I have to hold your fucking hips down whenever I put my fingers in you because you can’t stop squirming. I don’t know how you think you’re going to take my cock.”

“Spencer!” 

He knows. 

“Come, baby. Let me hear you.”

The delicate sounds you make as you bring yourself to orgasm tip him over the edge of his own—grunting as he comes all over his fist. 

“Jesus,” he strains under his breath, the word dragging out into two long syllables as his hips buck involuntarily and cum drips down his knuckles. He’s lightheaded and he’s created a mess and it all happened so quickly. “Fuck,” he breathes, a rasping chuckle as he reaches for the towel he’d dropped on the bed after his shower earlier. “You conscious over there?”

“I’m conscious,” you slur, breathing heavily. “I’ve never had an orgasm by myself before.”

“Are you proud of yourself?” Spencer smiles, wiping his hand off and making sure he’s otherwise clean. “You should be. I am.”

He’s barely kidding. 

“I’ll be proud when I can do it without your help,” you tease. 

“But I’ll always want to help you with that.” His already warm face flushes further as he goes over what he’d said. “Sorry I was so vulgar.”

You laugh. He blushes even more. 

“Are you? I think you secretly love being vulgar.”

“I don’t know why! I have no idea where it comes from. I would never speak that way in any other context. I should probably work on that. Sometimes I look back on the things I say and I’m genuinely appalled.”

“Well, don’t stop on my account. Personally I enjoy it.”

“Yeah, I think I’m corrupting you. You probably shouldn’t enjoy it.”

The truth of it weighs heavy on his mind, but he’s pretty sure his voice alone doesn’t betray that and you can’t sense it through the phone. 

“Oh, my god. Do not do that falling on your sword shit. I like being corrupted by you. If you stop I’ll be very upset.”

“Well god forbid you get upset,” he teases gently. Idly he wonders if the reason he’s suddenly feeling so depressed is because his cortisol levels were already high from the case, and then he jarred his system with an orgasm, spiking his dopamine and ultimately causing it to plummet without the oxytocin release that post-coital physical contact would usually provide. 

Or if it was something else. It could also be something else. 

For the millionth time, he wishes he was with you. Part of him also wants to go to sleep. But mostly he wishes he was with you. 

—

A comfortable silence settles over the conversation. In the ditch between words, you’re mapping constellations in the texture of Spencer’s ceiling. If you squeeze your eyes almost shut, you can imagine it really is the night sky. You can imagine he’s really here. 

You think about what he said—his apparently mindless vulgarity. Did it mean anything? Or was he just rambling to get you off?

“Spencer?” you murmur. 

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

He sounds earnest, perhaps a little tired, as he replies, “always,” through the little metal rectangle on your chest. He likes me and my questions are important to him, you repeat to yourself silently as you work up the strength. 

“If Penelope hadn’t called, last night… were you going to have sex with me?” 

Your lip tastes like his toothpaste as you chew it. Spencer sucks in a breath of air like he’s about to speak—and lets it fizzle out like foam on a carbonated drink. 

“I don’t know,” he finally admits, lamely. “That wasn’t my plan, but you can be extremely convincing when you want to be.”

“But why can’t it be your plan?” It’s an almost whine, pouty and childish—but the next words are quiet and pained. “Is it something I’m doing wrong?”

“No, no! It’s not you. You’re perfect. It’s—it’s complicated. It’s a me thing.”

Such trite words—such a ubiquitous, simple excuse sounds almost comical from his mouth when you know he’s capable of all the eloquence in the world. It’s not you, it’s me. It’s ridiculous. 

“Okay. Let me simplify this for you,” you begin with an uncharacteristic assertiveness that surprises even you. “I want to have sex with you. Either we are going to have sex or we’re not. So your future branches in two diverging paths. In one, we have sex, and then we keep having sex. In the other we never have sex ever. If you want to ever have the privilege of fucking me, then we just have to do it. Otherwise it simply will never happen. And I’m not eternally patient, Reid.”

Go me, you think, slightly breathless from your monologue. 

“Watch your mouth,” he says dryly. Something about the chastisement makes your stomach flip and your whole body tingle. “When you talk to me you call me Spencer. I will also accept Doctor Reid.” You wrestle down a smile, refusing to let him change the subject. A delayed sigh from him sobers up the conversation. “You know what I want. I’ve been very clear with you about that. But…”

“But…?”

Another sigh. A deeper, shuddering sigh, like his breath is searching for balance. Like Spencer is in a precarious position for which he was unprepared. 

“But—but to be completely honest… I worry that you’ll regret choosing me. And I know virginity is a social construct and I’m not implying that your worth will somehow be diminished if we have sex but regardless of my views on virginity as a construct, having sex for the first time can be weird and scary and it’s incredibly intimate and I don’t want you to regret your first time like I regret mine because you chose the wrong person.”

The words come at you so rapid-fire it takes you a moment to process them. And aside from all the ways you want to reassure him that you will not regret choosing him—that you could never, ever regret anything about him—one thing stands out. 

“You regret your first time?” 

Something between a scoff and a sigh travels through the line. You can tell he’s not annoyed at you for asking so much as he’s flustered himself with all his own words as he occasionally does. 

“Yeah. Yes. Sometimes I do. The person—she didn’t… like me as much as I liked her. And I was really, really in love with her, and she knew that and she knew she wasn’t in love with me—or maybe she was, I don’t know—but my point is, when one person likes the other more than the other person like them, things get complicated. And however you feel about me—that’s fine. It’s fine. I don’t want you to feel bad if we don’t feel exactly the same way about each other. I understand that this is newer for you, it’s different, I—I just don’t want us to do something we can’t undo because I don’t want to relive that. And I’m not saying it will never happen but I just don’t want you to make this choice when… when right now, I think we’re in different places emotionally. Regardless of that, I want you to choose the right person. I don’t want you to choose me and then find out that we feel differently after we sleep together and leave you feeling like you signed up for something you didn’t understand. I’m sorry. Maybe telling you this is selfish. But I’ve been thinking about it and trying to ignore it and I think I just have to be completely honest.”

Your ears ring like Spencer just fired a blank right into the microphone. Like you just got backhanded across the face and now you have the world’s worst case of whiplash. 

Every finger is numb and your blood is so cold it feels blue as it slithers thick through your veins. 

What you want to do is scream. What you want to do is go back to last night and stop yourself from almost telling him I love you, slap yourself and keep your cards a little closer to your chest. Because now he knows, and he doesn’t feel the same. 

You want to scream bloody murder. 

But when you try, when you unhinge your jaw and part your chapped lips and expect a bellow to come hurdling up the corridor of your throat with so much force it rattles your bones, all that falls out is a small, “oh.”

Maybe that’s worse. 

Spencer doesn’t reply. You hate yourself for feeling obliged to fill the silence. 

“I didn’t realize you…”

I didn’t realize that you don’t love me back. 

I didn’t realize I like you more than you like me. 

I didn’t realize you’d tell me to masturbate in your fucking bed and then drop this not even five minutes later. 

If Spencer Reid was able to talk to you over the phone with the same amount of affection and familiarity as always, like everything was still okay, knowing you love him and he doesn’t love you the whole time, he is not who you thought he was. 

“I’m sorry,” he lamely says again, like it could ever help. 

More silence. Now you can’t bring yourself to speak, so Spencer does. 

“I realize how awkward this is. I really didn’t mean to put you in this position. Especially not over the phone when I—god, I’m stupid. I’m sorry. But can we—can we talk about this in person when I get back? Please?”

Is that what grownups do? Is the proper etiquette for him to take you out to dinner and explain why he’s not in love with you? Is he going to break up with you?

What does one even wear to a breakup date?

“Okay,” you whisper. Your eyes sting, your everything stings, like you’ve been wrapped in a shroud of briar. Sheets that were soft a moment ago feel like sandpaper on open wounds. You feel like an open wound. 

Spencer sighs. It’s a sound of relief that confuses and hurts you even more. 

“Okay. I—okay. Thank you. Um—I’ll let you go back to sleep, now.”

“Okay,” you repeat—as if any of this were okay. But you can’t keep being that stupid girl who feels it all so much harder, who loves easily and begs to be loved in return, too naive to assume that someone who treats her so kindly might not reciprocate her feelings. It has to be okay, because if it’s not, you’re silly and dramatic and you’re just proving him right. 

“Goodnight,” Spencer whispers, and you can’t help but feeling that it’s the last time you’ll ever hear those words from his mouth while you’re in his bed. And he’s not even fucking here.

So you pull the blanket a little higher. You let your tears stain his pillow because they’ll be invisible by the morning. It will be like they were never here. Like you were never here. 

“Goodnight.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid fic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fic

[cheriladycl01]

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

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

Credit to 4and55 for the GIF

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oscar?" you ask.

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

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

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

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

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

Oscar, stops outside the door with a small panic.

What does he tell Lando?

Does he tell Lando?

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

Would this make Lando spiral and have a bad race.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lando: I'm coming home, now

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So you guys went to Instagram of course.

landonorris

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

Tagged 1 Person

View all 476 comments

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

mclaren: Papaya Baby incoming 🧡🦁 Congrats Lando!

oscarpiastri: congrats man!

lilyzniemer: she’s such a pretty mumma

-> y/user: stop it!!!! 🫶🏼🧡

Taglist:

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

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris fic #lando norris one shot #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x reader #lando fluff #lando imagine #lando #lando x reader #lando norris masterlist #lando norris x y/n #ln4 fluff #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 #ln4 x reader #ln4 x y/n #ln4 x you #lando norris fluff

[miirohs]

world burning [c.l.c]

pairing: Mob Boss!Charles Leclerc x Fem!Reader wc: 1.4k cw: someone is literally shot, charles kisses reader a bit forcefully an: to the anon who said they'd sell me their soul my cashapp is @bestfanficwriterever (jk jk, i hope that anon sees this tho). Real reminder to you all, again, that non of this stuff is to be encouraged irl and this is all meant as a fictional scenario!

“Charlie?”

You could hear him softly cursing in French on the other line, whispering as the bed creaked in the background. It was obvious he had just woken up, and you felt terrible for waking him as well, knowing the day he probably had.

“Qu'est-ce qu'il y a, tu ferais mieux d'avoir une bonne raison de me réveiller (what's the matter, you'd better have a good reason for waking me up)-”

“Charles, I've been arrested, I need someone to come get me.” 

The muttering stopped, grogginess disappearing from his voice almost instantly. “Y/n? Qu'est-ce qui s'est passé bon sang chéri (y/n? what the hell happened darling)?”

“Charles, not now please,” You chastised softly, looking to the door as the guards quietly conversed among themselves outside the room, “I have no idea why this is happening and what they’re gonna do to me.” “How did you even manage to get arrested… Nevermind that, I just hope you haven’t answered anything they've asked of you.” He groaned, heavy thumping over the phone as you looked nervously at the door for any indication they’d been listening to your conversation.

“I’m not that dull,” You said quietly, looking down at your lap, “and it couldn't have been anything i did, all they did was seize the car from me in the lot and bring me here.”

He paused for a moment, silent over the line. You pressed the phone against your ear, straining for any sounds on the other side of the line.

“Stay put. I’m coming to get you.”

A shiver ran down your spine and you fumbled, tripping over your words in a hurry to get them out.

“Char, what are you planning on doing?”

He laughed humorlessly over the phone, the sound of keys jingling and door slamming making you jump back from the phone as if it’d grown a head.

“Exactly what I said I'm going to do, come and pick you up.”

You swallowed the thick ball that’d formed in your throat.

“You know what- never mind, send someone else in your place, maybe Carlos?” You bargained, earning a soft chuckle from him.

“Pas de souci, mon amour. Je ne fais que commencer (no worries, my love. I'm just getting started). They should’ve learned not to fuck with the wrong person. I’ll be there in another 20 minutes, you won’t need to call anyone else.”

You shivered as the line went dead, looking at the now opened door, all the cops watching you with a suspicious look.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

All you could do was shake your head.

Not even a grand total of 15 minutes later, a shouting match erupted, followed by loud bangs.

There was a single person you could think of who was capable of this level of chaos, and you could have swore you’d heard him threatening the cops right now.

“Where is she?”

“Sir-”

“Don’t sir me, where the hell is she? Don’t tell me I have to blow another head off just for you to tell me.”

Everything seemed to fall silent for a couple moments, only a few voices daring to make a sound.

“Char?” You called out, a couple beats of silence weighing you down.

The sound of footsteps only got louder, stopping in front of the room you were in.

Keys jangled, the door slamming open as Charles walked in, a couple of police tailing him timidly to the outside of the door.

There were dark stains on his otherwise clean shirt, an indication of what happened visible in the peeved look on his face. Your eyes slowly trailed to his hand, a gun held tightly in his grip, smoking oh so slightly.

Noticing how your attention had drifted to the weapon, he put it down on the other side of the table as he approached you, shrugging off his jacket as he approached you.

“Tu vas bien maintenant (you're all right now),” He said quietly, running his fingers through your hair as he pulled you to him, “Come on, we’re going home.” 

You clutched his arm as he stood you up, eyes glued to the floor as you walked next to him.

You could hear their disappointed exhales, tinged with a bit of surprise as Charles kept a firm grip on your back, guiding you through the long hall to the main office.

As you continued to walk, he gently stopped you, turning around in the middle of the room as someone called for him.

“Fucks sake,” He sighed, turning around.

“Sir, i believe there has been a mistake-”

“What sort of mistake do you think you’ve made?” He snarled, his hand running down to your hand, lacing his fingers into yours.

“You see, the car we identified was yours and we thought that perhaps she’d stole it-”

“And you didn’t think to call me so I could deal with them myself?” He chuckled humorlessly, pulling you to his side. You held your breath, completely aware of what was about to happen.

“Charles, no-”

He shook his head at you, basically telling you to not interfere. You obliged, eyebrows creasing as you watch the poor man who had tried to explain himself get shoved to his knees.

“First off, you interrupt my very precious time, and then you have the audacity to say that you’ve made a mistake?” He stands back, waving at someone behind him to step forward to his side with a gun. “Do you know who she is?”

The man stumbled over his words, trying to plead for his life, but you already knew it was too late.

“Since you don’t seem to know, let me tell you. She’s the last face you’ll be seeing but since she’s here, I've decided to spare the rest of you for the time being. If I ever hear of anything happening to her again, anyone in this room will not be spared like they were today.” He remarked bemusedly, turning to you with the widest grin you’d ever seen from him.

“Chéri, close your eyes, and cover your ears as well.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. The second you did, there was a bang, followed by a thumping sound.

Something warm was on your face, but you didn’t dare open your eyes, shaky hands coming off your ears to touch your face.

“Don’t.” He was closer than you thought, causing you to jump as he rubbed what you assumed was a handkerchief against your face . “Don’t say anything, don’t look, just follow me.” 

You cracked open an eye, briefly wandering to the pool of blood a couple of feet away from you.

“What did I just tell you?” He remarked, barking at the rest in rapid french as he grabbed your hand and pulled you out the doors of the station.

There was an awkward silence as you lumbered into the passenger side seat, pressing yourself against the seat as he pulled out and onto the road.

“I’m sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for?” He muttered, hand reaching over to squeeze your thigh.

“I thought you’d be upset with me.” You looked down, noticing the dried blood on his hands, not that it made much of a difference to you anymore. Less than two years ago, you would have been horrified at the idea of blood within six feet of you, but you had come to accept it as a part of him you could never erase.

“No-” He punched the brakes, eyes slightly apologetic as you jumped from the sudden shock of stopping.

“No, no, Y/n, look at me,” His hand left your thigh, fingers curling around your chin and pulling your face to his, “You are not responsible for any of that, i gave you the car, remember? You are not to blame yourself because I would gladly do anything for you.”

“Char-” You whined, muffled slightly by the pressure of his fingers against your cheeks.

“I would give you the world to see you happy, so shut up and take it.” He pressed his lips harshly against yours, almost needy in the way he nipped at your bottom. Warmth seemed to stir inside you as he let you go, your own mind racing at a million miles per hour as he returned to the wheel as if nothing had happened.

However, under his breath, he muttered something that even escaped you as your thoughts drifted off elsewhere. “Le monde brûlera, si tu le veux ma chérie, je te le promets (the world will burn, if you want it to my darling, I promise).”

#mafia au #mafia!f1 #f1 mafia au #f1 mafia #mafia fanfic #mob au #formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x female reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x you #dark!charles leclerc #mob!au #f1 imagine #f1 fluff #f1 fandom #ferrari f1 #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagine #c16 #c16 x reader

[cupcakeinat0r]

Thinkin' abt DadBod!Miguel at the gym <3

You'd been going to the gym routinely, or at least trying to. You decided to go after working up the courage and convincing yourself that this was just for fun. That your body was your temple, and you were tending to it, no matter how it looked <3

The first week wasn't so bad. After embarrassingly tripping on equipment or accidentally dropping weights here and there, it was alright! Though at times, it was still difficult to stay consistent, until one day, you saw him.

Over on the other side of the gym, curling some dumbbells (100s, mind you), was a total 6-foot, thick, hairy dream of a man. You first noticed his chiseled face adorned by fine lines, locks of black hair framing it. With each draw of the weights, his biceps bulged. Beads of sweat trickled down his bulky chest and wide shoulders. When your eyes wander downward, you're surprised to not find washboard abs.

Oh no, what you find instead excites you even more than any pack of abs could offer you.

Your mouth waters slightly to find that his tank top has ridden up slightly over his hefty belly, graciously allowing a peek at a happy trail, its path sadly blocked by some basketball shorts (his cute bubble butt and giant dick print made up for it tho).

Despite his low, breathy grunts and intense crimson gaze towards his own reflection, he was making it look easy. You thought about how easy it'd probably be for him to carry you bride-style and throw you onto a bed before spreading your legs with those enormous hands so he could feast until your eyes crossed. Or how it'd be effortless for him to hold you tightly with your legs wrapped around that stocky midsection of his while he bullied his-

"'scuse me, you waiting for this bench?" a deep voice snaps you out of a daydream. You see the man is now looking at you with what looks like a knowing smirk. Fuck, he noticed you staring.

"Oh! N-no, was just looking for the 10s!" You blurt, evoking a velvety chuckle and dashing smile from him.

"Right over there." He motions with his chin toward the weight rack where the 10s are obviously displayed. After you thanked him, He smiled and nodded back to you, turning back toward the mirror to do his last set.

The second week felt like no problem. Instead of dragging yourself to the gym, you looked forward to it, scanning for your new gym crush every time you entered.

You'd feel a lil surge of happiness when you do find him there, feeling brave enough to exchange smiles and sometimes even little waves from across the gym. One time, the older man made you swoon when he winked at you upon entering the gym. After seeing your cute reaction, this would be how he greeted you every time.

The third week came You're at the squat rack, feeling stronger than usual, so you opt to go the heaviest you've ever gone. Big mistake. By the third rep, you fail to get back up, panicking and legs shaking. Just when you feel yourself start to fall, you see a pair of hands dart toward the bar from behind you, lifting it with ease and allowing you to stand back up. The bar is re-racked and you turn to find gym bae.

"You okay?" he gently prompts, a worried look on his face.

"Yes, thank you... think I might've gone too heavy." you nervously chuckle. He does as well, seeing that you're alright.

"Next time you go for a PR, you need to ask for a spotter, hun." He gives you that dashing smile again, his hands on his love handles.

"Yeah, I probably should've," you lower your head in defeat, "I didn't bring anyone with me though."

"You could've asked me," He says matter of factly as if it should've been obvious that he should be the one to spot you. "I would've done it with no problem, mama." His pet names make your womanhood pulse.

You look back up at him, your lips curled into a shy smile.

"C'mon, let's try again." "No, no, mama, I got that, I'll put it away for you." "Keep your knees like this-theeeere you go. "Gimme one more, mama, just one more, you can do it." "Atta girl! Good job, mamita."

You learned that his name is Miguel. He'd become your designated spotter on leg days, the sensation of his larger frame against yours making you nervous in the best way.

Your favorite is when his tummy accidentally brushes against your back, and borderline, your ass, and if not his tummy, it'd be his prominent bulge (which isn't there bc he gets to spot the adorable girl with an amazing ass from the gym... totally not that).

On the Fourth week, Miguel would ask you if you wanted to be workout buddies altogether. Of course, you accept, in which he asks for your number so like that, he can text you when he's going and vice versa.

It's the fifth week, and you both have worked out together a couple times already. Miguel texted you in the morning asking if you'd like to join him, which you were totally down for.

You two started with lateral pull-downs. Once it was your turn, you sat on the machine and reached for the handle, pulling it as you began your set.

Anytime you felt like you wanted advice or correction, Miguel eagerly helped you.

His hands would stay on your waist, his warm breath tickling your ear. "Mhm, there you go, you're doin' so good, mama." He praises in almost a whisper.

If only he knew he was making the exercise only harder. As if that weren't enough, his finger would occasionally message your hip. Your bodies were so close that you were able to hear each satisfied hum from his lips, suggesting you were doing the exercise right.

"Good girl, that was better. You feel it now?" He says, letting go to let you off the machine.

"Yeah, thank you! When it comes to upper body, I'll need all the help I can get. I'm just glad I’m getting it from an upper-body master." You flirtatiously add, playfully poking at one of his biceps.

This makes him blush, but only for a moment before he returns with a cocky response, "Thanks, hun. I'm glad to be working out with a leg-day goddess."

Now it was your turn to blush, except you didn't have any smart comeback, boosting Miguel's ego.

"Listen, let me treat you to smoothie after this, yeah?" He says it more like a statement than a request, and you happily oblige.

What you were expecting was a simple, cheap smoothie from a spot you usually go to, but instead, you're met with a drive-thru menu listing shakes from $20 and up. Oh he got moneyyyy.

Miguel tells you to pick any that looks good to you. He orders for himself and you as well, parking the car once the two of you get the smoothies.

As he sips from the cup, you take the opportunity to subtly glance at his figure, his muscles, how his pecs sit beautifully on top of his soft belly, his thighs constrained by the confines of his gym shorts. You think how badly you wanna sit there, grinding on the print 'til there was a wet spot-

"Something on your mind, mama?" You look back at him, taking a few seconds to register his words.

You hastily look back down at your drink and shake your head, “Nothing… thank you so much for this, it’s delicious!”

then he grabs the shoulder of your chair to lean toward you, “Of course, mama, but I don’t think you’re being completely truthful with me, hm?”

You look at him, playfully shaking your head again, knowing full well you’ve been caught.

“What’s in that pretty lil head of yours, hm? dime.” He puts the smoothie into the cup holder to free his other hand, placing it on your thigh, and softly squeezes it. “Just say the word, and you’ll get anything you want.”

Your lips curl slyly as you think of a response.

“Well… we never did cardio.”

Now you were here in his car, being bounced on his fat dick on the passenger seat, holding onto his his big shoulders for dear life. You were basically his fleshlight at this point… with those big hands.

You could feel his body now taut against yours, your tits bouncing relentlessly, his muscled, thick thighs below your ass, his balls slapping against your pussy lips, his bush tickling your clit, his pelvis pushing your ass up and his curved belly against your front side. It all was sending you into euphoria.

With you vigorously bouncing on his cock and his beautiful moaning, you fully let go. “Aw yes, Daddy,“ you mumbled without thinking.

In fact, you couldn’t think at all. All you knew was this fat cock and your pussy was memorizing all its veins and curves.

“Mmfuck baby, yea, say that again f’me”, he groaned through gritted teeth as he mercilessly bounced you down his painfully hard shaft.

“Please, Daddy, please!” You whined with your hands desperately seeking support on his big shoulders.

You can feel the sheet of sweat on his belly and on his thighs, which turned the smacking of your ass sound even more lewd.

“Fuck, say it again.” He growled, getting faster now.

“Mmmm, Daddy— Daddy, pleaseeee.”

“Louder, baby, c’mon—“

“UNGH DADDYYYY”

“Oh FUCK… you wanted cardio, baby, I’ll give you cardio… fuckin’ take it… coño.” Your panting became synchronized with every pound of his cock into your abused and bruised cunt, getting higher and higher in pitch, firing him up to go faster and harder.

“Gonna cum on this fat cock, right? Gonna cum f’me, mami?” He ordered, dropping octaves from his usual gentle tone with you.

“Mmmnn, Nnyesyyesyesyes—“ you babbled, the shakiness of your voice the result of the aggressive bouncing.

“Ah… carajo…” his cock accidentally slips out from your cunt, making you wince from the sudden empty sensation, “ungh!”

Holding up your ass, he takes a moment to admire the view, hissing from the sight of his angrily red cock and veins pulsing from your cunt sucking him in so deliciously. A ring of your cream erotically placed at the base of his length, just above his perfect bush. He guides his fat tip back to your dripping cunt using his thumb, pushing it back into your swollen folds.

He was back to ramming into your abused cunt in no time, chasing each others high’s.

“C’mon…fuck, c’mon, mama, you’re almost there…. Aw f-fuck… almost there…” he moans with his brows knitted and through a clenched jaw.

“Daddy I’m g’na— I’m cummingimcummingimcumming—“

“Aw, fuck, asi— asi mami— ah, ah…” Miguel holds back choked whines as he get closer, not allowing himself to let go until he knew you came first.

You speak in gibberish before crying into your climax, Miguel letting out a long, exasperated groan when he reaches his. You can feel his hot cum overfilling you, making you whine as it leaks down your thigh.

After draining himself completely, making sure every drop was in you, he gently pulls out, “Fuck… you did so good for me, mama… so good.”

Miguel lets you rest against his heaving chest and soft belly, rubbing your back as you caught your breath. You smiled a tired smile when you notice how hard Miguel is breathing as well, knowing you worked him out, too.

“You ok, mamita?” He plants a tender kiss on your shoulder, making a trail up your neck and finally to your forehead.

“Mhm,” you hum, you look up at him and are met with his plump, wet lips, tongues becoming entangled with each other as he groans into your mouth.

“I say… we do cardio like this every day.”

A/n: Haiii, I hope u liked it <3 Love my man sm <3 None of my gym baes could ever compare to himmmmm😭😭😭

@angel-of-the-moons Ty Ty Ty my luv for planting the seed in my head <3

Want more DadBod!Miguel ? Here’s my master list, bae!!

#I’d never skip the gym ever again #I’m doing cardio w him 24/7 idc #dadbod!miguel #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara x reader #across the spiderverse #miguel o’hara fanfiction #spider man 2099 #atsv #miguel x you #miguel x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel x y/n #miguel o’hara x you #miguel atsv #miguel o’hara atsv #spider man atsv #miguel smut #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara drabble #miguel o'hara blurb #miguel o’hara fan fiction #miguel o’hara fanart #miguel fanfic #miguel fic #miguel ohara #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel 2099

[obxsprincess]

please please pleasee make a luke × pillow princess smut

―💭✧˖° ♛ °˖🎀✧―

your lukes pillow princess, through and through. pillows n bedsheets always stained from your teary gloppy mascara ! and you even convinced him to buy silk pillows cus their better for your hair when hes balls deep inside of you </3 especially cus of your squirming and squealing, it messed up your hair so bad :( he bought them instantly, nothing came between luke and his girls puffy tight cunt. but what about being his sweet blanket princess?

“couldn’t just let me take you on a nice date- could ya’ mama?” he panted above you, his dark curls blocking the bright sun and falling on your whimpering tear stained face. “o-oh! fe-lt too empty” you whine all innocently. “course’ ya did, ma” pants pulled half way down his legs and your frilly panties thrown god-knows where, moans filling the luscious forest and your dizzy stained head. but he was just as much to blame !

it really did just start out as an innocent date tho. luke leading you through the oak trees and bushes cus you kept tripping over your own feet :( he was so mean when you jumped at any little branch breaking, and rolling his eyes he finally just picked you up with an annoyed sweep under your legs. he brought you to a stunning lakeside picnic where he finally set you down, all nonchalant as if he wasn’t the best boyfriend ever. as if he knew affection made you real horny which your clenching thighs and giggles gave away quickly… so technically he gave in

“k-kiss me” you whimper, suddenly feeling deprived as he ruts into your slick hole, wrapping your dainty arms around his neck you try to lift up, he groans cus your cunnie flutters but pushes you right back down, holding you there “fuckk nah see- pillow princesses dont getta’ make demands- you wanted dick baby, you got it,” he growls n your puckered lips pout, glassy eyes all puppy eyed, the pleasure becoming too much, but you try n hold in a sniffle, tears brimming your lash lines :( you just wanted a kiss ! “I-I won’t cum until you do” you whisper, hiding behind your hands n his neck with a sniffle. trying to avoid his amusement, all mean cus he likes seeing you like this, so so whiny and needy… with a raspy laugh he grabs your hands and pins the above you head… other hand gripping your wobbly jaw !

“ya’really crying all because m’too busy ruining’- fucking, this pretty pussy n not that makeup you got on, sweet girl?” his hand came down to gently grip your hip, making slow but deep love up into you, your soft sobs subsiding slightly “just- auh! wanted a kiss… wanted to feel loved luke!” those doe eyes and drooling lips could make luke do anything you ever wished, he was the most responsible camp counselor but one bat of your lashes had him doing some stupid shit (as in head over heels pussy whipped ahbcnsjhs)

he groans defeated, with a sigh he pulls your lips into his. all sloppy, wet and soft and it makes him move suddenly harder n harder back into you. you writhe n squeal into his mouth from the bliss ! “god- you can be real needy sometimes, your fuckin’ majesty. course’ I love you, just gotta dick you down fast and rough sometimes that’s all mama” (he fucking loves it just needs to do a little brat taming) but your cut off by lukes tongue probing into your drooling plump lips… his desperate little pillow majesty.

#luke castellan prompt #luke castellan smut #luke smut

[chris-slut]

HOW LONG

pairing: dom!matt x sub!reader

summary: for what feels like months, matt’s been feeling different towards you. he can’t help it, he stays up one night scrolling through your instagram, phone in one hand and his cock in the other. nick tells you to go grab a blanket from his bedroom but you definitely grab something else instead.

!both p.o.v!

!warnings!: SMUT, oral; male!receiving, pet names (mama, pretty girl, slut, baby, good girl, gorgeous), p in v, unprotected sex (don’t do), praising.

authors note: decided to post again since my last one did good, HOW DO YOU DO A MASTERS LIST.

word count:

MATT HAS no clue why— or how, but he was scrolling through your recent instagram post. the way the silky pink dressed hugged all your curves and showed the slutty little pink panties you had underneath it. fuck all he wanted was to watch you go down under him.

after 5 minutes of scrolling, his cock was in his hand going up and down. “f-fuck y/n,” he moans, imagining his hand was you. he forgot that you were sleeping over for his brother nick.

his hand goes up and down faster and faster— “shit y/n, fuck— fuck!!” he whimpers louder than he’s meant to. his legs shake as he images your slutty lips wrapped around the tip of his cock.

the way your panties were showing made him go insane. he wishes he could rip them off you and just fuck your absolute brains out. it’s the only thing he’s been thinking of doing since he’s laid eyes on you.

he knows it’s wrong, but he can’t help himself. he feels like a dick jerking off to a photo of his brothers best friend. his legs shake more and more and loud growls and whimpers escape past his lips. feeling the cum shoot out of his cock, he lets out one last loud whimper and wipes it off.

all he can think about is you tho, and he knows he can’t take anymore— but come on, he’s so attracted to you he’s got to do it twice.

* Y/N’S P.O.V. *

“DO YOU think you can go and get some extra blankets from matt’s room? there in his hamper,” nick says to me as i nod, placing my cola can down and getting up from the couch.

i quickly walk up the stairs, since i’ve been friends with nick for as long as i can remember and i know matt on some level— i walk in without knocking.

“jesus y/n, fuck!” i fix my vision as matt’s sweatpants are pulled down to his thighs, his long and hard cock moving up and down while his hand is wrapped around it. is he moaning my name?

i sit there for a minute in pure shock, and matt doesn’t notice me so he continues. “fuck y/n, fuck!” he moans a little louder as a little drop of cum starts to come out of his cock. fuck that’s hot.

“matty?” i ask after another 2 minutes go by, his eyes open wide as he takes his hand off slowly— his gaze going from his cock to my eyes now. his cheeks turn to a cherry red s he pulls his sweatpants a little under his v line.

“shit y/n— what are you doing in here?!” he asks, worry filling his voice. i laugh dryly at him as i slowly walk over, “what’s going on in here?” i ask as he smirks, shaking his head at me— “i asked you a question y/n.”

my eyes widen at his sudden dominance, but deep down i absolutely fucking love it. jesus anything this man does turns me on. “getting some blankets for me and nick, is that an issue?” i ask, tease filling my tone. he growls lowly as he grabs onto my wrist.

“why didn’t you knock,” he asks me, “what’s up with all these questions, jesus,” i say back— grabbing the closest blanket next to me. his grip tightens around my wrist as i drop the blanket, barley being able to move.

* THIRD PERSON *

matt grabs her wrist and pulls her hand down closer to his cock, her fingertips only inches away from his waistband. just knowing that any second her slutty little lips could be wrapped around his cock makes him grow harder by the second. she’s a fucking tease. the smirk on her face only makes his grow more and more impatient for her touch.

“y/n, please, just give me head!” matt begs for her touch. all he wants is to feel her hand wrapped around his cock as she spreads her saliva down it. he just wants to fuck her mouth like the slut she is.

“fuck matt— don’t say shit like that,” she whimpers out, mumbling her words as her nails get closer and closer to his waistband. she wants nothing more then to rip his sweatpants and boxers back down and suck his cock.

“why? i’m not lying baby,” he says to the girl, looking up at her through his eyes lashes. fuck he’s a slut. i can’t control myself any longer as i climb onto him and slowly start to take the clothes from beneath his waist right back off.

“look at you, taking orders from me, such a pretty girl,” matt says, causing a moan to slide past the girls lips. his cock springs out and hits his stomach, growing hard just knowing y/n’s in his presence.

matt grabs a handful of her hair and forms it into a ponytail, bucking his hips slightly so his tip hits her lips. “be patient matt,” i try to hold his hips down, but he lets out a low growl and moves my hands— pushing his tip into my mouth. “don’t tell me what to do mama,” he says to her.

she begins to suck his cock, bobbing her head up and down. “fuck— been wanting your slutty lips wrapped around me since i’ve seen you,” he rants out, causing her pace to fasten.

letting go, matt hums in disappointment. she spits on his tip and sticks her tongue into it, a whimper now falling past his lips. she kitten licks the tip and slides her tongue down his full length. ‘such a fucking tease’ matt thinks.

without a warning, she takes his full length. both of them turning into a moaning sweaty mess. “oh- yeah- FUCK!” matt groans out as his legs slowly start to shake, signaling he’s close. “i’m not done with you yet matty,” y/n says as she takes his cock out her mouth, a pop! noise coming with it.

“wanna ride you, let me ride you please!” she begins to beg as matt smirks, running his hands down the curves of her waist. “fuck baby, ride me,” he mumbles in a low voice as he leans forward, uniting the knot to her short pajama pants with his teeth.

he wastes no time sliding them right off, revealing the same pink bow panties she had on in the selfie he was jerking himself off to. “those fucking panties, you know what your doing slut,” matt says as my cheeks grow hot. what’s that supposed to mean?

“jerked off to your photos, you were wearing these slutty little bow panties and jesus— all i wanted was to fuck your dumb brains out baby,” matt admits as he slides them off with one hand, patting his lap for her to sit on.

she quickly does as told as he pulls her in for a messy make out session. their tongue’s fight for dominance and— of course, matt’s won. he slides his tongue past her lip as their teeth’s clash together— a whimper falling from both’s lips. her hips begin to grind as her wet core rubs against the skin of matt’s cock.

“fuck baby, hover over my lap real quick like the good girl you are,” good girl made her grow even wetter, she slides up and hovers her body so her clit is now lined up with matt’s tip. “grab a condom from my bedside table really quick,” matt says as she quickly shakes her head— “no.” she replies.

a smirk falls into matt’s face, “oh your a slut, you want me to fuck you raw?” he says as y/n slightly nods, her cheeks growing hotter as embarrassment fills the room. “you wanna be filled up huh? have my babies like the good girl you are?” matt teases her once more, “fuck matty, please!” she begins to beg for it. she doesn’t have to tell matt twice as he grabs her hips and pushes just his tip into her clit.

“is this good for you so far?” matt asks, sliding in little lengths at a time. “no matty, more- please!” she begs as he shoves as much as he can into her, a loud moan escaping past her lips. “shhh, don’t want nick to hear now do we?” he asks as his one hand falls from my waist and onto my mouth, shutting me up and muffling my moans and cries.

our sweaty skin slap against each other, whimpers falling from both our mouths. “fuck baby— look at you taking me so well, so fucking good for me. such a good girl,” matt praises which sends y/n over the edge. her back arches in the air and her head falls back, rubbing his thighs as she bounces up and down onto him. “fuck matty, gonna cum!” she says as matt slowly goes rougher.

“me too sweetheart, cum with me!” matt moans louder then expected as their legs begin to shake against each other, both of them hitting their orgasms. the room is filled with whimpers and loud cries, occasional growls coming from matt’s throat.

“shit- cumming!” y/n cries out as her steamy liquid falls onto matt’s cock, matt plunging into her once more as he fills her up with his own white, sticky liquid. “fuck— such a good girl!” matt says as he slowly slides his cock out of her core. whimpers falling past their lips as he does so.

“do you think nick still needs his blanket?” matt asks, laughing at his own joke. she lean’s over and click his phone on. 11:38 p.m. fuck time does go by fast when your having fun.

“nah, i think he’ll be fine,” she replies, both of them pulling in for one last kiss.

that night definitely ended better than they expected.

#chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #chrissturniolo smut #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nathan doe #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #smut #sturniolo fanfic

[reinainaric]

HATE THAT I LOVE YOU || part 2.

mean!ryomen sukuna x fem!reader

It's already a part of Sukuna's personality to be mean, always throwing insults at every person he finds annoying here and there. And you were no exception. You ran after him like a lovesick puppy, happily smiling at his rejections, confessing to him multiple times how much you like him, and Sukuna wanted so much to strangle you for your persistence.

But when you stopped showing interest, maybe... just maybe, Sukuna didn't like the sound of it.

contents: sukuna x reader, soft!reader, reader is oblivious to sukuna's insults, mean!sukuna, golden retriever x black cat trope, reader is a happy pill (not to sukuna tho, yet), hurt/slight angst, modern college AU, sukuna is in a band, bassist!sukuna, not proofread, jjk characters in a band, siblings yuji and sukuna

warning: cursing

links: < part 1 > > < part 3 >

Note: This is turning into a series help 😭

***

It didn't sit right with Sukuna how you became so quiet throughout their band practice.

Not a word of appreciation. Not one compliment whenever the band finishes a song. On top of that, you wouldn't even look at him.

That pissed him more. He's been glancing at you several times, thinking about how he's supposed to say sorry about what happened, when he himself is not even an apologetic person.

He watched you look at Nanami, looked at Suguru and Choso, even smiled at Yuji at one point. But not to him.

Did it bother Sukuna so much how your eyes looked tired? How your eyes were so red from crying? How your silence was killing him? Two days have already passed since the incident, and you're still crying over it?

It was definitely affecting not just him, but also the whole band. Their own manager, who's always so happy and full of sunshine, was just looking down at her feet, biting her lip as she watched everyone do their thing. Everyone looked at Sukuna like he should do something, and it annoyed him how he knows that he really should, but it wasn't the right time yet.

So when the band finally bid their goodbyes and left the room, he was quick to his feet to close the door, locking the two of you inside.

Your eyes widened as you watched as his back tensed, before he turned to you with fire in his eyes.

"What's wrong with you?"

You gulped at his question.

What is he talking about anyway? What 'wrong' did he mean? Did he mean your behaviour for always being a nuisance with him? Or did he mean it somewhere between the lines of 'what's bothering you'?

You purse your lips, looking away from him in confusion. You couldn't even look at his face. You're just so afraid you'll give in. "What do you mean?"

"Don't act all innocent with me, brat." He spat, taking slow steps towards you, making you walk backwards until you felt your back hit the wall. "You've been silent all day, and everyone seemed to be affected. Stop being a fucking baby."

If you didn't know what he was talking about minutes ago, you definitely knew now. Of course, you're not that dumb to not see how the band had an awkward atmosphere moments ago, but you didn't know that it was because of you.

"I'm sorry-”

You stopped when he held your chin with his fingers, his other hand leaned on the wall behind you, locking you in. "Better keep your mouth shut if you're only going to apologize again. I'm so sick of your sorries."

Your mouth parted to speak, and you swear you saw Sukuna's eyes looking at them before returning back to look at your eyes. Your face started to heat up, and your hands were trembling at your sides.

His face leaned in closer, his breath practically fanning over the skin of your neck. "If it's about what happened, then..." He took a strand of your hair between his fingers, twirling it. "I'm... sorry... princess… Is that… what you wanted to hear?" He said it so slow, and so taunting. Like he was teasing you for your vulnerability.

His thumb brushed your lower lip for a moment, and it made you shiver as he straightened his composure, taking a step backward with a smirk.

"Don't expect me to repeat what I said, brat. I better not see you crying tomorrow."

•

Did his apology make you feel better? It definitely didn't.

But did it mess with your head? Yes, it did.

You were restless the whole night, the scene replaying in your head over and over again. And it's not helping you to move on from Sukuna.

In fact, it only made your feelings worse. When you remember how he got so close to you, his face almost touching yours, it's like your heart was about to burst from your chest.

The next day, you were definitely back to your jolly self though. But the difference? You are avoiding Sukuna now.

As Sukuna pulled up in the school parking lot, his eyes roamed around to look for a certain person who he expected to be waiting for him. But no. You were not there. He thought that maybe you just came in late, but when he saw you at the school corridors, walking right past him, his heart drums on his chest nervously like a wake-up call.

He shouldn't be affected. No, he shouldn't be feeling that strange feeling tugging at his chest. Maybe he just needs a cup of coffee to ease them.

He didn't like this feeling.

Band practice came, and of course, you two are bound to be in the same room. Everyone went in, all feeling better than yesterday to see you back with your usual energy. The mood felt lighter as you conversed with everyone, and still not to him.

As you walked around the room, you felt someone's eyes following you, but you paid it no mind.

•

Why do you always have to see Sukuna in the practice room when everyone still hasn't arrived?

You found Sukuna once again, in his usual spot in the corner of the room. His hands were busy playing his guitar, but stopped when both your eyes darted at each other.

You blinked a few times, before muttering in a low voice, "H-hi."

It was just for formality anyway. Even though you can't look him straight in the eye anymore, you still have to keep some kind of professionalism as the manager of the band.

You sat at a chair on the other side of the room, keeping a wide distance.

Sukuna stared at you, almost piercing a hole in your head as you pulled out your phone to distract yourself.

Usually, Sukuna wouldn't even care if people watch him play with his guitar. However, it was a little different with you now, and he's not able to think straight anymore, so that made him stop doing whatever he was doing.

It was so strange for Sukuna. How you wouldn't even say some nonsense to him, like you usually do.

He wanted to ask, what is really wrong with you this time?

Why aren't you bothering him? You weren't blabbering anymore. You don't wait for him outside school. You don't give him chocolates or any snacks. You don't tell him how much you like him in front of everyone. You don't compliment his talents even though he was just playing a guitar.

The things you used to do, in which you're not doing anymore, was clenching something in his guts.

You weren't trying to get his attention, and he was wanting to get yours.

“Brat.”

It was like an automatic response for you to look, and it almost made him chuckle at your flushed face. It was a nickname that he always called you, insulting you yet you got used to it.

Your face heated up as your back straightened on your seat. “Y-yes?”

Sukuna stared at you long enough, his brows meeting each other. He was trying to read you, but it was already obvious to him how you're putting a wall between you two.

And he didn't really like it.

“Finally given up, huh?”

His tone was sour, like he disapproves of the idea of what he's trying to say.

You only looked at him confused as he didn't care to explain his words any further when his eyes darted back to his guitar, and continued to busy himself.

The silence had never felt so suffocating before until now.

•

The school fest came by quickly, and the band was busy rehearsing backstage.

Sukuna was busy, and so were you as you ordered people around where to place some equipment. It was a public show anyway, the school allowed outsiders since it was their big founding anniversary that they celebrate every year.

Of course, you're not only busying yourself with handling the show, you have to keep the members on track as well.

You were holding bottles of water for the band members in your small hands, since the cafeteria said they ran out of bags, you were forced to carry them in your arms.

As you pushed the door where the members were staying out, a figure was also about to exit, making you crash into his chest.

Almost.

You almost dropped the bottles if the man in front of you didn't hold your waist to steady your body, his body pressing against the bottles in your arms between the two of you just so they wouldn't fall.

You sucked in a breath as you lifted your eyes, meeting Sukuna's.

“Careful.” He whispered. He took the bottles from your hand with ease, opening the door for you as he placed them on the table for everyone to see.

But you couldn't even move in your spot.

You felt some kind of electric shock lingering in your waist, your heart beating rapidly.

•

The school fest ended well with cheers and shouting. Everyone was pleased at the performance, and it was finally time to rest.

You slumped on the couch, while everyone was organising their bags, and placing their guitars on its case.

You were breathing heavily since you've been running around backstage the whole performance, since you had to make sure there were no technical errors happening around.

You were so busy with yourself that you didn't even notice Sukuna taking a seat beside you.

He grabbed one bottle of water, opening it easily, and then, surprisingly, handed it to you.

He didn't even know what he was doing.

You were surprised, and it didn't even look like he was aware of what he did.

With shaky hands, you accepted the water, muttering a small thanks to him as you drank.

But even the water couldn't calm your beating heart.

•

The week ended, and the band decided to go to a bar to party for their successful show. Everyone was there–Nanami, Suguru, Choso, Yuji, and Sukuna–they all gathered at a table drinking some shots when you saw them.

Yuji already looked tipsy, Nanami was watching over everyone while still drinking himself, Suguru was chatting with Choso and Sukuna. You were also feeling the alcohol getting into your system as you talked with Nanami.

“Manager! Let's dance!” Yuji called you. He was smiling from ear to ear, his face red from the alcohol.

“Of course, Yuji.”

Yuji pulled your wrist as you two walked to the dance floor. He was jumping around and moving his body to the rhythm of an upbeat song, and you did the same to synchronise his movements. You both were laughing and talking despite the blaring music that played so loudly. As Yuji kept handing you glasses after glasses of liquor, it was pretty clear that you two were getting drunk already.

You stopped your movements as you held Yuji’s shoulder, shouting closely to his ear. “I'm going to the bathroom!”

Yuji nodded, giving you a two thumbs up, his eyes sparkling because of the lights illuminating the bar.

Believe it or not, Sukuna was watching over the two of you the whole time, the alcohol also clouding his system at one point. He's just lucky that he had a high alcohol tolerance, so he was still sane when he followed your disappearing figure from the crowd.

You stumbled outside the bathroom after you were done. Your throat was burning from all the alcohol you consumed, and your feet were hurting because of the heels you wore after jumping and dancing around like a maniac. You were drunk, and it was so obvious by the way that you walked as you struggled to keep your balance.

You should thank your guardian angels that Sukuna followed you, quickly holding you in place by the waist before you can even face palm on the floor.

“You're drunk,” he grunted, looking down at you.

You mumbled incoherent words, your hands touched his wrist that was touching your waist. His body was pressed against you as you tried to keep standing on your feet, but you were feeling weak. There was a radiating sensual heat between you, and it was making your cheeks heat up.

“Sukuna…” Your words were slurred, and even sounded sleepy. “Sukuna… why are there… two Sukuna in my eyes?”

Sukuna's gripped on you tighten, knowing how much you've gotten pretty drunk, he was pretty sure you wouldn't be able to get home properly in this state.

“Come on,” he held your arms, steadying you. “I should take you home.”

“But the party's not over–”

“Shut up."

You frowned, letting yourself be pulled by Sukuna as he led you out of the bar. With one hand, he quickly got his keys from his pocket and clicked something in it as you two walked at the quiet parking lot. The car made a sound, and you two walked towards his car, with you almost tripping on your feet.

“‘Kuna…” You whined softly, your hands pulling him to stop. “W-where are you… hic… t-taking me?”

“Shut up and just stay still, would ya?” He hissed as he pushed your back against his car.

Your vision was blurry, but you still somehow saw Sukuna knelt down in front of you as his hands grazed your ankle. Your eyes are half-closed as you feel Sukuna taking the straps off of your heels, lifting your feet up to take off your heels on both your feet.

You breathed heavily as he stood up, your head tilting to the side as you stared up at him. “What are you doing to me…” You whispered, lips pouting.

He raised an eyebrow, his one hand was carrying your heels and the other was placed on your waist. “Get in the car. Now.”

You faked a gasped, head falling on his chest. “Why are you always so mean to me?” You slurred, your weak fists punching his chest.

Sukuna took a heavy breath as he caught your fists in his hands, unclasping them, and then lifting your chin up with the same hand that was holding yours. “You're such a pain in the ass, you know that?”

Your lips pouted even more as you stole your hand from his grasp, and then poking his cheek with your pointer finger. “Ha! You're the one who's always stubborn! I don't like you! No, no… I don't like you! You're bad!” You poked his cheek after each word.

Sukuna's jaw clenched as he caught your wrist once again. He leaned in closer, making you move your head backward,

“You don't like me anymore, doll?” He chuckled devilishly.

“Yes… n-no… yes…”

Sukuna's grin grew wider as he watched your drunk and fragile state. You looked so small beneath him he could crush you so easily. And it fascinates him, entertains him even as he sees another side of you that looked so weak for him.

He let out a hum, his face a few inches from your ear. "Should I change that?"

***

So... come back for part 3!

• Part 1

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[itoshiexx]

when you call them "husband"

how the blue lock boyfriends react when you call them "husband".

pairings: itoshi sae, shidou ryusei, isagi yoichi x fem!reader (no descriptions tho, just the words "mrs." and "wifey") (separate) | warnings: established relationship, fluff, kissing, the boys are simps, shidou is a warning itself

notes: hi guys! another one of these scenarios since you guys seemed to like the other one so much <3 thank you for all your love and support! also it's my first time writing for shidou so i hope this isn't absolute garbage.

Itoshi Sae

one of your and sae’s favorite couple activities was driving around the city. you loved the feeling of madrid’s summer breeze kissing your face and messing up your hair, and sae… well, he would never admit that, but sae loved anything that made you happy, even if it meant driving with no clear destination in mind until his feet hurt. so it was no wonder you convinced him to do just that on that afternoon.

after half an hour of wandering around town on a porsche, you decided that some starbucks would do both of you well. your little pleading eyes quickly convinced sae to stop by one, letting you order since the intercom was on your side.

“welcome to starbucks, what can i get for you today?” the man’s voice came out of the intercom, the spanish accent still making it a bit difficult for sae to fully comprehend, despite living in madrid for years now. 

“hi! i’d like a caramel frappuccino and a chocolate muffin, please.”

“anything else?”

you turned to him, asking in a whisper, “what do you want, baby?”

“just an iced matcha tea latte.” he shrugged. you smiled, and sae had to fight the urge to smile too. it was maddening, really — how much of an effect you had on him with something as simple as a turn of lips.

he watched as you turned back to the intercom, “and my husband wants an iced matcha tea latte. that would be all, thank you.”

distracted, sae started to take his foot off the brake to go to the payment booth, but suddenly his body froze. he furrowed his eyebrows, confusion etched on his teal eyes.

wait. 

fucking wait. 

sae didn’t register what the guy on the intercom said next, much less what you answered. he didn’t even notice the line of cars behind him and the need to move forward. all that mattered was that one word that fell from your mouth seconds prior.

“what did you call me?” he asked, silently afraid that it was all a trick from his mind fed on his deepest wishes. 

it was only then you seemed to realize what you said. “o-oh, i… i’m sorry, it just— it just came out…” you squeaked, bashful. fuck, you were so pretty like that, with your cheeks rosy while averting his gaze. 

sae smirked, pinching your chin so that you would look at him. he kissed you with a sweetness that wasn’t usually present in his bitter mouth, and you melted at his gentleness. 

“don’t apologize,” he said as he broke the kiss. “i liked that, mrs. itoshi.”

it seemed like it was finally time for that velvet box on the bottom of his drawer.

Shidou Ryusei

peace. peace was all you wished for — at least a little bit. five minutes on the phone to schedule an appointment was not asking for much, was it?

apparently, for shidou, it was.

you were well aware your boyfriend was selfish, and that was an universal rule when it came to your attention. considering he spent a lot of time away for games overseas, you couldn’t blame him for wanting some time alone, since you wanted it too. 

however, you really needed to schedule your doctor’s appointment, and your whiny boyfriend was making this task extremely difficult. every time you started talking to the lady on the other side of the phone, ryusei would butt in with very unnecessary comments that made your eyes roll. you apologized profusely to the woman about a hundred times, and she assured you it was okay. she even said it was sweet. 

if you weren’t so annoyed, you would have thought it was sweet, too. ryusei was never one to shy away from expressing his love, even if it meant embarrassing you and himself in the process (although he was completely shameless, so it made no difference).

“will anyone pick you up after your exam, ma’m?”

you could faintly hear what the woman was saying, since shidou was babbling nonsense in your ear as if you weren’t on a phone call. it made you sigh, and you rubbed the bridge of your nose.

“yes, my husband will pick me up.”

and then, silence. 

it took you a minute to realize that the outside noise disappeared and ryusei had completely stopped talking. you blinked a couple times, confused, and turned your head to look at your boyfriend sitting on the couch. to your surprise, he was blushing and gaping like a fish, in what seemed to be utter disbelief.

you braced yourself for what was about to come. 

“HUSBAND?!”

ah, there it is. his scream pierced through the living room, and you were certain even the other side of the country heard it. 

“thank you for everything, ma’m. i should be going now,” you told the receptionist. she only giggled and wished you a good day. 

the second you put your phone down, ryusei’s arms were around your middle, lifting you up and twirling you around like some cliche romance movie. your prior annoyance melted away in a second, and you could only giggle like a schoolgirl in love. 

“awww, ya wanna be my wifey?” he cooed, putting you down without letting you go. his nose touched yours and you blushed with the intensity of his stare. 

though you wouldn’t back down. 

“of course i do, ryu.” you smiled sweetly. your boyfriend stared at you, shocked and bashful for the second time in the span of five minutes, and then groaned when broken from his stupor. 

what a little devil, he thought. 

and then he kissed you, intense and dominating like only ryusei knew how to be, prodding his tongue in your mouth when you gasped and savoring every corner of your mouth. it was one of those kisses that swept you off your feet and left you dizzy, and he could tell from the hazy look in your eyes when he finally backed away.

“fuck, i love you so much. you ‘gon be my wifey, baby, i promise ya.”

Isagi Yoichi

you were usually the one to accompany yoichi to parties — mostly galas thrown by sponsors who wanted to secure a deal with some sports hotshot —, so, for him, it was a breath of fresh air to be your plus one on the holiday party of the company you worked for. 

since the company in question was a corporation, it was no wonder the decoration was flawless, with lots of gold and red to represent the christmas that would soon arrive. the soundtrack was mainly composed of classical music, and he smiled watching you enjoying a vivaldi song. it reminded him of the early days of your relationship, where you teached him about your favorite classic musicians such as beethoven, mozart, ludovico einaudi and chopin.

your arms were linked as you wandered around the hall, and, non surprisingly, everyone seemed to want to talk to you. of course they would; you were the sweetest, kindest and smartest soul to walk on this earth. isagi couldn’t be more proud of all the recognition you were getting, because you deserved more than anyone he knew. 

“are you having fun, baby?” you suddenly asked. the striker finally noticed he had been staring at you for a while as you drank a glass of champagne. he blushed, but nodded. 

“how could i not? i’m with you.”

a giggle left your lips along with a fond roll of your eyes, and yoichi couldn’t help but think that, if he could listen to a single sound forever, he would choose your laugh in a heartbeat. 

“you’re so silly, yoichi,” you playfully chastised him, but stepped forward to give a kiss to his cheek. he smiled, circling your waist with one arm and pulling so that your bodies were glued.

“what can i say, you make me silly, sweetheart.”

“isn’t that what love is supposed to do?” a third voice suddenly spoke, slightly startling the both of you and breaking you from your little bubble. 

you put down your glass on a waiter’s tray, smiling at the man that arrived. “mr. tanaka! what a pleasure it is to see you here.”

“of course! i wouldn’t miss such a party!” he exclaimed, laughing a little loud for the etiquette of that kind of gala, but no one seemed to mind. 

“and who is this?” he asked, pointing to isagi. 

“this is my husband, isagi yoichi. he came today to support me.”

with such simple words, yoichi’s mind went silent. 

he could faintly discern the man saying something about being a soccer enthusiast and a bastard munchen’s fan — mostly from reading his lips, since his ears were buzzing —, but honestly, he couldn’t care less. isagi’s heart was beating so pathetically fast that if he weren’t an athlete, he was pretty sure he would faint right there. 

husband. you called him your husband. 

did that mean you wanted to marry him? he’s been wanting to propose for a while. you have been dating for five years, after all, and yoichi was sure there was no one else in this world he’d rather spend the rest of his life with. did you only say that because you already lived together? or did you actually want a wedding ceremony with all your friends and family, signing the paper that would bound you for good? until death do us part, he remembered. though yoichi would love you even after dying—

“dear?” you called him, worry in your tone. it’s only then he realized he got lost in his thoughts, and both you and mr. tanaka were staring at him.

“oh, sorry. it’s really nice to meet you, sir.” he shook the man’s hand, engaging in conversation.

while you watched them, you smiled coyly, hoping isagi took the hint.

© 2023 itoshiexx. do not plagarise, translate, or repost any of my work on here or other sites.

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