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lanabuckybarnes · 12 days

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Sergeant’s Got You

18+ Minors DNI

You’re stressed, he knows exactly how to make you feel better.

Note: I was asked for something like this, so it’s heavy on the love for his dog tags

Pairing: beefy Bucky (but he’s got that fatws attitude) x reader

Warnings: Dom Bucky, basically smutty right from the get go, filthy buck, he has his metal arm (I’m a slut for it), you like Bucky’s dog tags, like really like them, Petnames: sweetness, sweetheart, sweet thing, sweetie, good girl, baby, a LOT of dirty talk, sergeant kink, sir kink, oral (M receiving), unprotected p in v sex, he’s rough, degradation, feral Bucky, squirting, creampie, aftercare.

Word Count: 3.2k *insert cat HUH sound*

You were stressed beyond belief. Your mission ended up having a few more loose ends than anyone was anticipating leaving you to pick up the pieces. Now you were finally back in New York and ready to punch the next person who pats your back sympathetically with a ‘you tried’ look on their face.

Just as you were contemplating boxing the cupboard in the kitchen than wouldn’t stay open two strong arms pulled you back and into a hard body.

“You alright sweetness?” Bucky spoke into the locks of hair at the back of your ear. His cologne had you relaxing already, the fingers on his right hand hitched up your shirt to rub soothing circles over your hip bone. What really got you was the subtle grind of his hips against your ass; he was a filthy shit, you loved it when he knew what you wanted.

You flipped your body around in his arms, your fingers running up from his abs to his soft chest until they wrapped around his neck. He smirked, he knew exactly what you wanted him to do but he was a tease, you had to tell him or he wouldn’t. It’s just the way the world worked for you sweetheart.

You surged forward, desperate for a taste of the cherry lips you missed so much. You hated to admit just how much the man in front of you affected you, how often on your mission your hand snaked down your body and in-between your legs at the photos Sam sent of your lost puppy husband, his wide back and tiny waist wrapped in that blue Henley that had the arms pulled up to his forearm revealing the long veins and thick structure underneath. You needed him, now.

He pulled back just as your lips brushed his, a dark smirk and a filthy blue colour surfacing in his orbs. Fucking tease.

“You know you gotta use your words sweetheart” One of his big hands, his metal one, landed on the back of your skull, the metal thumb dancing over your bottom lip before you sucked it into your wet mouth. He growled at the innocent look you gave him as your tongue flicked over the tip before poking out and running up the underside of the shiny plates.

He pushed down, holding your tongue in place as it travelled, drool dripping from the muscle but he didn’t care, the sight of the rivulets of saliva sliding down the silver had him harder than a rock. One of the most technologically advanced pieces of handiwork and you were sucking on it like a little slut, pathetic.

He had you in his room before you could even blink, the rough slamming of the door vibrating the wall he pushed you up against.

“You’re a little slut ain’t you? Sucking on my thumb like my cock, getting your drool everywhere, you’re so lucky I don’t make you clean it up” he spoke as he hastily pulled your shirt and his off, his dog tags jangling softly as they fell back into place between his huge chest. You moved like a magpie, gripping at the shiny metal tags, giving them a squeeze, his name imprinting for a second of the fat of your palm before letting them slip between your fingers.

He watched you, ever fascinated at just how worked up you got about him, but it was your love for his dog tags that had him curious. You always, without fail slipped a finger around them, whether it was when you pulled him close for a kiss or if your slept on his chest, one of your fingers slipped itself through the chain and held them close to your hand.

He wasn’t stupid though, he could practically smell when you soaked yourself, always conveniently after his swinging tags made contact with your chin or ran up the column in your spine, the way that little pussy tightened around him when the old metal swept over your lips, tapping your teeth as you moaned out in pleasure. It made him embarrassingly weak too.

“You want me to fuck you cute girl?” He groaned into the crook of your neck, his plush lips suckling obscene dark marks downward till he reached the crevice of your breasts, your legs wrapped around him tighter as his hand grazed over your sensitive sides to the meat of your tit, gripping it softly and flicking a warm thumb over your nipple. You jerked into him at the shock of pleasure, your hand carding through his waves of hair and pulling him close as worked on the underside of your other boob.

“Words Sweetheart, I need words” He knew it wouldn’t be long till you hit that sub space, the same thing always happened when you were stressed, you needed your big Sergeant to take the wheel, use you a little bit.

“Please” fuck the whimper in your voice had him grinding up into you, the scratchy fabric of his jeans meeting the barely their material of the shorts you wore under your gear.

“Please what sweet thing?” he moved to watch the deep colour of your eyes swim with lust, eradicating any stress they once held, he was doing his job.

“Please use me Sir” you whined, fingers wrapping around the chain of his dog tags again to pull him close, finally getting that kiss you so desperately needed. His left hand cupped your cheek, rubbing a thumb over the high point softly, a sharp contrast to the bruising kiss you had going on. Teeth clashed with teeth, soft whimpers falling from your lips as he pushed closer, flicking his tongue viciously with your much weaker one, running against the top of it and sucking once it gave up it’s fight. He pulled you in again, tender with his lips this time, enclosing your swollen ones with his, his tongue running over your upper lip soothingly.

“Fuck! You’re making me go crazy” he chuckled as he moved off the wall, backing himself up to the bed till his calves hit the frame. He sat down with both of you, your body straddling him, his right hand pushing you back and forth softly on his bulge. The lust in his eyes mixed with a softness as he looked up at you, his metal hand still on your face although now his shiny forefinger and thumb hooked onto your chin, pulling you forward for a kiss, and another, and another. You whined, you didn’t want kisses and grinding, you wanted him to blow your back out, use your pretty face, anything but this.

Seeming to sense your thoughts he stopped your movements, the right hand coming up to join his left on either side of your face.

“What do you want sweetheart? You want your soldier to ruin you? I can feel how hot you are on my dick… you want it bad don’t you?” You moaned at his words, dripping filthily from his tongue, he sure had a way to fuck you up without even pulling out his cock.

“Yes, yes please. Use me” he smirked, satisfied at your whimpered begging. With a click of his tongue and a flick of his eyes he had you manoeuvring onto your knees in front of him.

He was a sight, he looked carved from marble, each bend of his body, every nook and muscle and vein delicately etched into rock solid stone to be preserved for a lifetime. His bulge strained painfully against his jeans, angrily awaiting your slender fingers offering it reprise from its tight cell. You were glad to give it just that.

Clumsily, you fiddled with the thick belt around his waist, smiling in satisfaction when the rhythmic clanks finally hit your ears. You flicked the button open and were about to pull the zip of his fly when his hand stopped you.

“With your mouth sweetness” his lip caught between his teeth, a soft blush decorated his face and chest as he watched you. Your tongue ran up the metal, the slight tang hitting your tastebuds, you flicked the little tab until sat snug between your teeth and pulled it down slowly, each tooth of the zip clicking as it finally opened.

Once you were done, Bucky pushed the thick material down his legs with a relieved sigh, letting it pool at his ankles before flicking them off with your help. His hard-on raged against the soft grey briefs, a pool of darkness lay at the head, precum soaking through.

His hands met yours, pulling them up his thighs and hooking them around the waistband of his briefs. He smiles down at you, eyes crinkling and neck craned as he watched you both inch down his underwear until it caught on his tip, he hissed as the scratchy fabric pulled over his silky head before it slapped deliciously onto his public bone and stomach.

“God” he chuckled breathlessly at the feeling of finally being free “look at you drooling all over yourself for me, you want a taste sweet thing?” His metal fingers had wrapped themselves around the fat base of his length, pushing it forward till the spongy tip hooked onto your upper lip, his salty precum smearing over it like a x-rated lip balm.

You pecked the tip of his dick, the tip of your tongue barely poking him as you did. You moved down, lips brushing against every angry vein on his cock until you met the metal of his hand in which you slowly licked a thick strip back up until you swirled your wet muscle against his head relentlessly.

“Fuck sweetheart, good girl” he groaned, head lulling back as his hips jittered off the bed softly, pushing his head into your awaiting mouth. You sucked him in greedily, selfishly inhaling his thick musky scent that had your pussy drooling against your lace panties, threatening to spill into your shorts— you didn’t doubt that if he had you naked, your essence would drip all over the wood of the floor— he’d have a field day making you clean it up.

“God you’re so good, ha— making your soldier feel so good, you like your sergeant all needy? Ready to pull you up off that floor and sink my cock into you” You moaned against his length, gagging softly when he jerked up into the back of your throat.

“Shit, Nuh uh get up here, I wanna cum in that pretty pussy, move come on” He pulled you up and off his length like you weighed nothing at all, his fingers ripping the shorts from your body and only stopping when he caught a glimpse of you’re soaked panties.

“Fuck girl, who’s got you like this hmm?” His thick thumb brushed small circles over your neglected clit. You moaned loudly, jerking off the bed with a shudder at the feeling, more of your slick pooling into your already soaked gusset.

“Mmm I can fucking smell you, smell so good baby… bet I could fuck you without prep, you want that?” He spoke, his voice deep, laced with primal lust— nothing like the composed grumpy old man everyone else saw— no, he was raw, unhinged, pupils blown wide with sexual desire. You wanted nothing more than his cock in you.

“Please Buck, just your cock I don’t care just please” you cried when he pushed particularly hard on your aching nub, your knuckles turning white as you fisted then covers beneath you; your legs shook as they threatened to close on his thick forearm, you were close already but you didn’t want to cum without him filling you out.

He gleamed at your form, fucked out, soaked and crying already— he’d barely fucking touched you— he couldn’t wait to see your face as he fucked you raw.

He ripped your panties with renewed vigour, the ruined material pulled away from your sensitive heat to hang around the your ankle that now sat over Bucky’s muscular shoulder. Your thigh quaked softly at the stretch but his cold digits ran softly against the tight muscle, soothing it for the time being.

His fat head tapped against your clit, each wet slap causing your body to twitch off the bed at the electric jolts of pleasure it sent up your spine. You could feel Bucky’s fingers circling your entrance, two of his thick fingers squishing into your tight hole as he prepped you lightly. When they left, a long line of arousal followed, connecting him to you, he growled at the sight before licking the wetness from his rough palm and middle finger.

“Mmm so sweet, if I wasn’t so fucking horny I’d make you cum all over my face… make you soak my mouth, shit” he was talking more to himself than you but you clenched around nothing at the thought, the thought of him eating you out for hours was not impossible, he’d done it before.

His thick tip drooling against your entrance pulled you from your trance, he pushed softly, hooking his head along the tight rim of your pussy as he stared up at you.

“you ready sweet thing?” He leaned over, right hand resting against the side of your head, his thumb flicking stray tears from your cheeks. You nodded softly, eyes unmoving from him, watching as his lips twitched in pleasure as his head popped into you, each inch dragging in slowly, aided by your soaked folds.

You moaned pathetically, his head running over your g-spot had you clenching around him, your orgasm hitting you quickly, your hands tightening painfully against the sheets as white hot pleasure soaked through your nerves. Everything was tingling, flashes of colour dancing over your closed eyelids.

Bucky wasn’t much better as he watched you, having to will his own orgasm down at the sight of you losing yourself over him already. You were a fucking sight to him, your tits bouncing with each sharp breath you took, mouth hung open allowing each whimper or silent scream to escape unabashedly.

“Ohh good girl, that’s it mmmm shit you’re fucking clenching me tight baby” Bucky mumbled, words falling from his lips in verbal mush, his own mind barely keeping up. When you finally came down from your high you open your eyes to look up at him, a shy little smile playing on your lips at the way he bore down at you.

“I’m so-“ you began but he pushed forward, sucking up your moan at the feeling of him hitting your cervix into his mouth.

“Don’t you dare be fucking sorry for that sweetheart, you hear? Fucking almost made me cum like a fucking teenager again, naughty girl ain’t you? I fucking love you” His hot breath panted against your lips as he growled at you, the last thing he wanted was for you to feel ashamed about the pleasure you were feeling. You blushed deeply, it was quite funny just how much his love for you made you blush, even when he was currently pushing against the deepest parts of you.

“Can I move baby?” He asked against your lips, smiling satisfyingly as you nodded before planting a wet kiss on your lips and pushing himself up.

He started slow, letting each vein pull against every nerve in your heat, his teeth clenching at just how tight you’d squeeze every time his head brushed against your sweet bundle of pleasure. His smooth pace never lasted long though, his hips jerked violently against you once he deemed you ready enough, your body slipping up across the sheets at each slam of his hips against your thighs.

He was leaning over you now, your leg pushed up between both your bodies, his dog tags clanging above your face at each jerk of his body. You reached a hand up, encircling the darkened metal, pulling on it as your body twitched with hints of a second orgasm.

“Shit! You like when my fucking tags hang over your face, fucking little slut aren’t you? You like being fucked like this? your sergeant fucking all that stress away? Mmm god, maybe I’ll put them around your neck next time hmm? Have you wear them when you’re riding me, let them fucking swing between those tits— god you’d love that” Bucky rambled, on and on, thrusts becoming sloppy as you clenched around him for the umpteenth time, only this time your orgasm slammed into you like a freight train, you could feel yourself soaking Bucky’s dick and thighs— probably soaking the already destroyed sheets below you.

With one final thrust Bucky’s moan caught in this throat as he pushed himself the deepest he could go, hot cum soaking your cervix and pushing out against his length to run along your folds, mixing with your juices. His legs give out forcing himself against you even more, pulling a pained whine from you at the feeling. As your orgasms settled, your breathing slightly less laboured although still heavy, you pulled him close by his tags, kissing his blissed out face right on the lips.

“You were so good for me sweet thing, so fucking good” he praised, his metal hand running through your tangled hair, soothing your heated scalp.

He leaned back up with a groan, massaging your aching leg as he pulled it from his shoulder before slipping out of your pussy. You both moaned at the loss, your heat clenching against nothing as his cum slipped from your body in waves. He couldn’t tear his eyes from your heat, tongue poking out to wet his lips as he watched intently. You giggled shyly at his intense expression, your aching legs closing softly in embarrassment much to Bucky’s dismay.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up” he smiled, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you to the bathroom. You snuck a glimpse of the sheets as he carried you, the whole area soaked in a mixture of you both.

“Oh my god” you whispered in disbelief against his head.

“What?” He replied as he set you down and began running a bath.

“The sheets are ruined, I can’t believe I did that” you eyed his naked frame from behind, his wide back flushed red but still absolutely stunning, each muscle rippling as he moved methodically, his small waist directing you to his thick globes. It was then Bucky turned to look at you, catching you ogling at his ass, he laughed when you turned quickly.

“It makes me proud when I look at those sheets, I mean who else can make you squirt like that? Fucking no one” he growled the last part against your lips giving you a quick smooch before turning the water off and lifting you both into the hot bubbled water.

His hands massaged your shoulders, working out the knots from your activities as well as any left over stress from your mission, not that there was any after he fucked it out of you.

You two sat in silence, save for the occasional sigh you let out when he hit the right spot, both savouring each other’s presence, reminiscing on the way you exhausted each other. You laugh when you remember his words.

“What? what’s got you all giggly?” he asked, nipping the skin on the nape of your neck.

“Nothing… just… were you being serious?”

“About what sweetheart?” He eyes you curiously.

“About letting me wear your dog tags” you suppress a smirk as you feel him twitch against your back, obviously your words sparking something in him.

“We’ll discuss it later” he rasped causing you to laugh out loud.

Your week had been stressful, with never ending problems and constant nagging from the higher ups to do the job but when you were in Bucky’s embrace, when you had those dog tags between your fingers or dangling over your face, everything melted away into nothingness, leaving you and Bucky alone.

So I lied mwahahahaha, I was going to post it yesterday but I love alcohol so I was drunk but here we are.

I’m a little nervous to post this one idk why.

I hope you enjoyed x

(I do not own any of the photos, credits to original owners)

#bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky fanfic #marvel #bucky barnes imagine #mcu bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes #beefy bucky smut #beefy bucky #james barnes #james buchanan barnes

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 3 months

Note

Can you do a Clark Kent, with a mate? Maybe she gets jealous of Lois but doesn’t know why; an to get over him she tries to go out with another guy but Clark is like no. Your mine.

.⋆｡Office Crushes｡⋆.

Alpha!Clark Kent x omega!plus size reader

Little bit of Bruce Wayne x plus size reader

Your best friend has an office crush that seems to be becoming something more, maybe you should get your own office romance but not because you’re jealous- obviously

Warnings: a/b/o, jealousy, mutual pining, idiots in love, little bit of angst, protective!clark, fluff

WC: 3.1k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

It was quite common for any office to have its workers develop a sort of infatuation with each other. A confined space where you spend upwards of 40 hours a week with the same people, feelings are destined to arise, especially when it’s such a large mixture of alphas, betas and omegas. Hormones tend to go wild.

You were proud that you had never developed an office crush, knowing how disastrous it could be if the relationship ended, but you doubted your best friend could say the same. Clark had a big heart that he always wore on his sleeve and tended to attract a lot of romantic interest from practically everyone in the office. And apparently, Lois Lane was the lucky one who finally caught his eye.

A strange churning in your stomach began as you looked over the wall of your cubicle and spotted Clark leaning on the small kitchen counter, head thrown back in laughter as Lois chuckled over her now full cup of coffee. You know you should have seen it from a mile away- they were constantly paired up for articles, their chemistry was unmatched and they were by far the most attractive people in the office. You had even teased Clark on occasion for how often he met up with her after hours for some new lead, calling them dates.

Evidently, you were right. And for some reason, it was really bothering you. You felt physical disgust as Clark bent down to whisper something into the smaller omega’s ear and down right nausea as she placed a hand onto his broad chest to steady herself.

You swallowed down the bitter emotions and forced yourself to return to editing your article though a sour taste remained on your tongue. Maybe it was finally time to get your own office crush and the perfect opportunity had just landed in your inbox.

‘Bruce Wayne Interview- I trust you’ll get this done professionally’. You bit your lip at the offer, not only would an interview with Gotham’s golden boy boost your career, but whenever you had encountered the alpha before, he had always asked you out and you had always brushed him off. It was a win-win for you, and maybe it would stop the inexplicable rage you felt when you looked up and saw the goofy grin on Clark’s face as he sat back down at his desk.

Your nose wrinkled as you caught Lois’s scent clinging to him. Your fingers flew across the keyboard as you quickly sent a response back to your boss, accepting the offer.

You just needed a distraction and then everything would go back to normal.

——————

The tension in the conference room at the top of Wayne Enterprise was so thick you swore you could cut it with a butter knife. You cleared your throat and tugged down your pencil skirt, over-aware of just how high it sat on your plump thighs as you reclined in one of the many expensive seats in the room.

Bruce’s eyes flicked down to where your hands were curled into the material of the skirt and then back to your eyes but not before stopping very briefly at your lips. “Mr Wayne-“ You began again, glancing at your notepad. The small talk had gone well as did the customary chit chat about any new scandal he happened to have instigated and the photos of the both of you for the article.

“Bruce please, I think we’re far beyond that now.” He winked and you swore that his tone held a bit of a teasing purr. Your stomach flipped at the blatant attention from the alpha but it quickly dropped as yet another wave of thick, bitter scent filled the room making you cringe away from the other man standing to the side.

Through a series of several unfortunate events, your usual photographer had fallen ill and his stand-in got hired from right under the company and left so the only person that even had the slightest bit of talent with a camera in the office was forced to come with you today for shots of the billionaire. And in the worst stroke of luck, that person happened to be the very man that ‘inspired’ you to take the job in the first place.

Clark shifted on his feet and you barely repressed an eye roll. He had been very vocal in his disapproval of the whole thing given how often the mogul had put the moves on you but none of his arguments had done anything to deter you, instead they only fuelled the fire.

Bruce’s jaw clenched and you watched in fascination as the muscles beneath his skin moved, although they were not nearly as impressive as Clark’s (you would never admit that out loud). “Well Bruce,” He beamed at you, “Wayne Enterprises has just introduced a new product line that promises to ease the severe heats often experienced by omegas, my question for you is, what about this product is so different from all others on the market that promise the same things yet all others have failed?”

The alpha leaned back in his seat, his muscular thighs spreading slightly, instantly drawing your gaze to the thick bulge that was perfectly hugged by the material of his pants. Your eyes immediately flicked back up to him but given the smirk on his lips, Bruce knew exactly what he was doing.

“I’m actually quite proud of my team for this, they’ve worked tirelessly on development for years and I believe that it really shows. While other products are usually prescribed by doctors in the forms of ointments and perfumes that mimic the scent of an alpha, which almost never work by the way, we have gone in a totally new direction. Instead, omegas can buy these pouches at any pharmacy and when heated, they give off the scent of a pup.” Bruce gestured to the small bags that were barely the size of your palm that sat on the table next to him. They gave the appearance of a miniature version of a microwavable heat pack but he was right, if you concentrated hard enough, you could smell the mixture of milk and flowers that all babies had.

“It is common knowledge that the presence of pups actually help to lessen the effects of a heat whereas the scent of an alpha is far more complex to manufacture and can actually make an omega’s heat worse if they don’t have any other-“ he paused then, his smirk growing as the room seemed to grow smaller, “-tools to help them through it.” You barely suppressed a squeak and quickly ducked your head as if you were checking your notes once more.

You gathered yourself for a moment then spoke again, missing the way that Clark was glaring at the other alpha over your shoulder. “And how affordable are these products?”

“Wayne Enterprises are donating 2 million to women’s shelters throughout Gotham and we plan to sell them for less than $10.” As if anticipating your next question, Bruce licked his lips and continued. “While it is not feasible to gain a profit from such a low price, I would rather give them away to the people that need it but I do have a board that I have to listen to… sometimes.” He winked at you.

Heat crawled up your neck and settled onto your full cheeks. You squeezed your thighs together though you weren’t quite sure if it was because you were attempting to feign arousal or keep him from looking up your skirt. You laid a hand onto your notebook, shutting off your recorder, as you leaned forwards and offered him your other one. “Thank you for being so open to this interview, you have been a hard man to pin down.”

You could feel the way Clark’s body seized as Bruce’s smirk grew and his eyes twinkled deviously. “If it’s by you miss Y/L/N, I would gladly be pinned down any time.” He shook your hand with a firm grip, letting the tips of his fingers brush against your wrist. “For an interview that is.”

He rose to his feet and politely helped you to yours, steadying you with a hand on your waist as you wobbled on your heels. Once he was sure that you were steady, he ducked down and grabbed one of the unopened boxes of Heat Helpers (quite the cheesy name in your opinion) and gave it to you, along with a small piece of cardstock. “Why don’t you take this, a thank you for a great conversation.”

You flipped over the piece of paper to reveal a phone number scrawled on in pen. You gave him a questioning look to which he chuckled. “My number, if you ever want to have a one-on-one with me, with or without the tape recorder.”

You swallowed thickly and stuttered out some kind of polite response before Clark ushered you out of the room, muttering under his breath about being in a time crunch. You were barely able to catch one last, “Anytime miss Y/L/N” before the heavy door slammed shut and you were quite literally pushed into the awaiting elevator by your friend.

As soon as the doors were shut, you were on him. “What was that all about?” You crossed your arms over your chest and gave him a scrutinising look. Clark refused to make eye contact with you, instead he stared at the elevator doors like he was willing them to open.

“He was flirting with you.” You rolled your eyes and looked away from the tall alpha. “And you let him.”

“So what? He’s attractive and available, as am I. It was only natural.” Clark’s shoulders tensed, his grip on his camera tightening until his knuckles turned white. The confined space was now filled with a bitter scent that made your stomach drop and your omega howl in displeasure.

“Why are you so concerned about this, Clark?”

The elevator doors opened with a ping and he quickly walked out. “It’s nothing.” He said and you knew you weren’t going to get anything else out of him until he decided he was done throwing a tantrum.

——————

“So have you called him?” Lois was leaning against the bar next to you, her drink half empty but the flush on her cheeks told you that it wasn’t the first one of the night.

“Called who?” She rolled her eyes like it was obvious.

“Bruce Wayne! He obviously wants you too, I saw the photos Clark took. He’s fucking—what’s the word— enamoured!” You scoff behind your tumbler of whiskey which you had been nursing since Perry gave it to you an hour ago. The whole office had gathered at the bar down the road for an end-of-workweek drink and against your better judgement, you had decided to join.

Clark had been convinced into joining a game of pool, leaving you without anyone to talk to but it’s not like he would anyway. For some stupid reason, the alpha had been giving you the silent treatment for days and it was really starting to piss you off. You regarded Lois with a look but she was far too tipsy to get it.

“He was just flirting, he does it with everybody.” You dismissed it but she scoffed.

“Then why did he ask Perry for your personal number?” Your head snapped up, your eyes wide. “Clark didn’t tell you?” Evidently, your wide open mouth and lack of a verbal response told her everything she needed to know. Suddenly, Lois was very sober, a serious expression on her face.

“We were in a meeting with Perry the day after the interview and Wayne just strolled in like he fucking owned the place. He said how great you were and that he was hoping to get your number for a follow-up interview sometime soon. Clark said he would handle it, I assumed that he would have talked to you.” Her gaze travelled over to said man. “Shit I guess he didn’t.”

You slammed back the rest of your drink and without any sort of conscious thought, stormed over to the group of men huddled around the pool table. “Where the fuck do you get off Kent?” You snarled. Immediately all of the men seemed to find their phones incredibly interesting.

“I’m sorry?” He asked in that way too polite way he did that really meant ‘what the fuck is the matter with you’ but you were having none of it.

“Why didn’t you tell me Bruce asked for my number?”

“There’s a lot of Bruces in the world, you’ll have to be more specific.” He dismissed.

Anger flared in your gut. “You know exactly what I’m fucking talking about.” You snarled, making Clark stand up straight and meet your eyes. In the dim light of the bar, his expression was far darker than you had ever seen before as aggravation rolled off of his powerful body in waves. “You had no right to keep something like that from me!”

“I had every right! He was just going to use you and then never talk to you again! I was protecting you!”

“I didn’t ask you to!” The bar went completely silent as Clark visibly flinched but you were far too upset to care. “You know what, I’m done.” You raised your hands in surrender as you turned and pushed through the stunned crowd, your anger slowly trickling away into sadness.

The night air was like a punch in the gut but it also eased the tenseness in your shoulders. Taking a deep breath, you willed yourself not to cry. It wasn’t like you were in love with Bruce, but even if you were, Clark’s blatant disapproval of him and his distrust in your decisions made you feel incredibly small. And it was breaking your heart.

He was your best friend, he was supposed to be supportive if not a little teasing about your choice in men. He was supposed to console you when things went wrong, not say ‘I told you so’. Why did he get to control your love life while you could only sit back and watch him fall in love with someone else?

Your feet carried you further and further from the bar as the urge to sob was quickly becoming overwhelming. “Y/N!” You turned in time to see Clark throw open the door, the light from inside spilling out onto the street as he endeavoured to chase you.

“Leave me alone!” You cried or at least tried to, but then suddenly, the air was knocked from your lungs and you were looking up at the stars.

The shrill screech of a speeding car came from somewhere on your left as bright headlights illuminated the mass of a man above you before the sound was in the distance and darkness folded over you both. His weight kept you pinned to the slightly damp grass and you had the vague thought that you must be in a park of some kind, even though just a second ago you were standing on a sidewalk- or was it the street?

“Are you okay?” That was Clark’s voice but he had been so far away from you. “Omega?” He sounded distressed and for the life of you, you couldn’t figure out why.

“Say something!” His huge hands were planted by your head and it was only when one of them cupped your cheek did you find your voice again.

“Clark?” His whole body sagged with relief and he let his forehead rest against yours.

“Thank god. I thought I didn’t get to you in time. The car came out of nowhere and you were so close.” You turned your head away from him, your eyes focusing on the bar… that was across the street… a block away. The glint of something in the grass catches your attention, Clark’s glasses.

He looked so different without them and all your confused mind could think was just how blue his eyes were when they were unobscured by the glass.

His button up shirt which was normally so perfectly done up was unbuttoned, exposing the tight material of something navy beneath. “What?” But you couldn’t get out anymore, not when he shifted his weight, exposing even more of what was covered by his shirt and you were stunned into silence.

The red ’S’ practically glowed as realisation dawned into you. His brows scrunched in confusion, following your gaze. “I- I can explain.” Your head spun as he yanked you to your feet, though his hands never left your skin like he needed the reassurance that you were still there.

“I was going to tell you but then I realised how much danger it would put you in and if you were hurt in any way because of me, I couldn’t even stand the thought. And then we had known each other for months and Lois said you would feel betrayed so I kept it a secret-“ You placed an open palm onto his chest, stopping him in his tracks. His mouth snapped shut with a click.

“Is this why you were acting so weird about Bruce? You thought he would hurt me because of you?” Your voice wobbled with emotions as your nails dug into his warm peck.

Clark’s growl was shocking in its intensity. The vibrations shot up your arm as the ground shook beneath your feet with its power. “No, he would never even dare to fucking touch you. He knows who you belong to.” Your heart skipped a beat, this possessiveness was nothing you had ever seen from the soft-spoken reporter before. You knew that you should find it disgusting considering how he had been treating you but instead your veins filled with warmth.

“And who is it that I belong to? There’s no claiming mark on my neck.” His grip on your hips tightened which should have been a warning but the anger was quickly returning now that the foggy haze of danger had passed. “If I can remember correctly, you’ve been courting Lois, not me.”

“I’ve been asking her for advice on how to ask you out!” He said, exasperated. “I just couldn't find the perfect time to do it.”

“You’re an idiot.” You retorted before grabbing his black curls in a tight grip and yanking his mouth to yours. His body tensed but then quickly melted into you, groaning against your lips.

Maybe you did have an office crush but it’s not like you’d actually admit it.

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satorusugurugurl · 6 days

Text

My Wedding Date is an Escort!

Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one my, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.

Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader

Word Count: 4,673

Warning: dirty talk, cursing, smutty things, oral sex, fingering

A/N: LEEEET’S GOOOOO!!! Here we go; things are getting spicy and interesting!! If you want to be included in the tag list, YOU MUST HAVE AGE LISTED! Thank you!!

Part One Part Two Part Three

Satoru’s ab’s clenched under the graze of your fingers. His eyes followed those graceful fingers to the button of his jeans. His breath caught in his throat as you unbuttoned them.

“Toru, take me to our room.”

Satoru grabbed your wrist, dragging you out of the kitchen. The dessert you had promised him was long forgotten; the prospect of having you was a million times sweeter. The second you made it to the room, Satoru kicked the door close with his shoe. In a flash of white, Satoru had you pinned to the door, his lips slotting against yours in a hungry, desperate kiss.

One hand gripped your wrists, pinning them about your head, holding them firmly against the door. Satoru groaned against your mouth. His tongue flicked at your bottom lip, eagerly asking for your permission. You obliged, opening your mouth and allowing his tongue to slide against yours.

The faint sweetness of sugar. The traces of vanilla washed over your tongue as you kissed. It was an intoxicating taste; you felt yourself slowly becoming addicted to it. You wanted more. To taste Satoru, all of him.

You gasped as his knee slid between your legs, his thigh pressing up against your throbbing sex. The sensation of being touched like this again, after not being with anyone, had you dizzy and eager for more. Fighting against your hesitation, you rolled your hips over his thigh, pressing your aching sex firmly against him. Your soft whine flooded Satoru’s mouth, making him smirk against your lips as he pulled back.

”Does my thigh feel good, baby?” You nodded as he gripped your hip in his free hand, massaging the skin as he trailed kisses down your cheek. “I fuckin’ knew it. When I kissed you like this back at the bar, your hips twitched when I slid my knee between them. You wanted to grind yourself against my thigh, didn’t you? To use me as your toy, to make yourself cum.”His words hit you like blows to the stomach. Only they weren’t painful. They had your pussy fluttering, clenching around nothing. “Ah ha, there it is.”

”T-There what?”

Satoru took your earlobe between his teeth, gently nibbling on it before he trailed the tip of his tongue over the bite. “You clenched.” Feeling mortified was a bit of an understatement. If you could cover your face with your hands, you would have been. Instead, you made a groaning sound as your cheeks burned. “Hey now,” Satoru’s hot breath fanned over your sensitive ear, “there’s no need to be shy about it; knowing you’re feeling good makes my cock hard.” He rolled his hips, eagerly showing you the growing erection in his pants.

”F-Fuck, y-you’re hard.”

“Mhmm and it’s only half hard.” H-Half hard? He was only half hard, and he was already so big?! “So why don’t you keep rocking those hips for me? Let’s see if you can get me to the point my cock is so hard it hurts.”

Responding to his flirtatious dirty words was something you weren’t capable of doing, at least not yet. So, you instead rocked your hips against his thigh, pressing down a little harder this time. Your clit twitched happily, feeling some friction that wasn’t a toy or your hand for the first time in over a year. The pleasurable sensation had you crying out softly, sending our head rocking back to rest against the wall as you repeated the momentum.

Satoru growled, kissing and nipping at your neck, leaving hickeys in his wake. You let out the cutest little gasps and moans as your hips rocked against him. With each roll of your hips, the more confident you grow. Tentative gentle movements became more focused and centered around your pleasure. Watching how your chest rose and fell, how your skin flushed with the growing arousal, it was enough to have him nearly going feral.

You rocked your hips faster; the seam in your pants was in the perfect place, giving you additional friction over your throbbing clit. You were so wet you could feel your arousal soaking into your panties, and if you kept going at the pace you were, it would take no time at all for you to soak through your pants. Maybe you’d leave a wet spot on Satoru’s pants. Thinking about leaving a mark on him didn’t leave you embarrassed at the prospect, but it urged you to move faster instead.

”Oh, you’re feeling it now, aren’t you?” Satoru cooed and trailed the hand that had firmly been massaging your hips up your body. “You’re such a good girl, rocking against my thigh like this, using me to get off.”

The need to cum all over his thigh was burning at your core, fanning the kindling lust blooming at your core. However, you didn’t want just his thigh. You wanted more of him. To feel his hands on your bare skin, you longed to trail kisses over him like he had done to you. His thigh was just the beginning of you wanting to lose yourself in everything Gojo Satoru was willing to offer.

You were yanked out of your lustful fantasy as Satoru grabbed a handful of your breasts. His fingers gently kneaded the flesh, sending your head rocking forward, your half-lidded eyes drawn to his touch, watching as he groped you. Your nipples hardened under his touch, letting him know just how turned on you were. He hummed, feeling the hardening bud against the palm of his hand. At that moment, feeling you grinding against his leg, groping the soft flesh of your breast, something suddenly hit Satoru like a train.

“Hey, sweetheart,” your hazy eyes met him, “I think we’re wearing far too much clothing.” He released his iron grip on your wrists, and both his hands trailed down your body, toying with the hem of your shirt. “What do you say we make ourselves more comfortable?” his hot fingers dipped under the hem, teasingly rubbing over your bare skin.

No verbal response was given. You instead moved your hands towards his shirt. You slid them down, slowly unbuttoning each button with precise need. The slow, deliberate action had Satoru’s hips rocking forward, cock twitching in excitement. Your perfect fingers hadn’t even touched his skin, graced him with your touch, and he was already panting. Watching you move further and further down his chest, revealing his toned, beautiful ivory skin, was like foreplay.

The kind of foreplay that made him lose his mind.

Satoru growled, pushing your shirt up over your perfect breasts. Your skin was the most beautiful color he’d ever seen, so soft and delicate. His hands ran over your stomach, groaning at the way you jerked under the warmth of his hands. You were getting into it, slowly loosening your grip on your self-control. Witnessing you coming undone was something Satoru longed to see. It was also something he was determined to witness by the time he was through with you.

His long fingers grabbed the fabric of your bra, pushing it up over your breasts. Your breasts bounced, jiggling at the sudden loss of support. The sight had Satoru’s mouth watering. He couldn’t stop himself from leaning down, trailing the tip of his tongue over the curves of your breasts, tasting the sweet saltiness of your skin. You inhaled sharply, watching the white tufts of hair move as he placed open-mouthed kisses up your breasts before he took your erect nipple into his mouth.

”Ah fuck!” You cried out as his expert tongue lapped and swirled around the sensitive bud. “T-Toru~” Hearing that sweet nickname pass breathlessly through your lips had him growling. The vibrations of that had you crying out louder. “F-Feels good.”

Your fingers ran through his hair, gripping the soft strands, tugging him closer to your breasts, silently begging him for more. Picking up on what you wanted, Satour sealed his lips around the bud and sucked hard. You yelped, body hunching over him, your hips pathetically jerking against his leg. While his mouth continued its strategic attack on your nipples, his other hand groped and pinched the other.

”Satoru, oh my god.” The room felt like it was spinning from the amount of pleasure he was giving you. Your legs were beginning to tremble, knees buckling. “T-Toru, bed, l-let’s get on the bed.”

Satoru hummed happily at your request, popping off of your nipple. “I thought you’d never ask.” He walked backward, his hands never once leaving your body.

“God, your hands are so hot, so warm.” You both sank onto the futon before Satoru grabbed your shirt and bra, tugging it over your head. Leaving you bare-chested as he shrugged his shirt off, tossing it to the side

”If you think my hands feel good, wait until I show you what else my mouth can do.”

”Confident, are we?”

Satoru snickered, pushing you back against the bedding. “I promise you, I’m going to make you cum so hard, you’ll see your life flash before your eyes.” His promise had you swallowing dryly at your throat as he trailed his hands over the curves of your body. “You’re so goddamn beautiful, sweetheart.” He whispered as his fingers worked at the button of your jeans. “And your tits.” He learned back over your mounds, eyeing them closely as if he were trying to pick which one to give his undivided attention to.

”What about my tits?”

”They’re fucking perfect.” His tongue lolled out, running the flat over it over your nipple that was only pinched earlier. “They’re so soft, the perfect size for me, god I can’t get enough of them.”

His words struck a particular chord inside of you. He was drunk off your breasts, losing himself in the feel of them, while you felt like you were losing yourself to every part of him. The feel of his bare skin against yours, how the warmth of his mouth had you arching into him, craving more. You couldn’t get enough of Satoru.

Your desire had you trailing a hand down his stomach, sliding over his crotch where his throbbing cock strained. Gojo jerked, feeling you gently rubbing those sinful fingers over his erection. He growled, melting into you, his mouth continuing to work on you while he humped his hips against your hand.

“You’re so hard.” You whined out as you grabbed the shaft, rubbing it a bit harder.

”W-what can I say? I have the world's most gorgeous woman underneath me.” He pulled away from your breast with a grin. “Everything about him is making me high off pleasure; of course, my cock’s going to get hard.” Your thumb rubs over the growing wet spot forming on his boxers. “A-And while I love the face you’re so interested in my cock, I will admit it’s hard to focus on you when you touch me.”

The grave sound of need and lust in his voice gave you a boost of confidence. “Then maybe I should focus on you for a little bit.” Sitting up, you turned, pushing Satoru back against the sheets. He propped himself on his elbows, grinning as you pulled his jeans down.

You swallowed hard as you tossed them to join the other clothes before you tugged down his boxers. Satoru hissed as the cool air hit his hot, twitching cock that smacked against his stomach. It was thick, fat, and long, throbbing eagerly as you stared at it in awe. The head was swollen and red, dribbling pre-cum onto his stomach. Seeing it and seeing the smug smirk on his face had you pressing your thighs together, trying to ease some of the throbbing between them.

”Like what you see?” His cocky tone had you giggling with a shake of your head.

”Yes, it’s such a pretty cock.” He hummed snarky in response. “I wanna taste it.” Your hand wrapped around him, gently squeezing him before you leaned over him, kitten-licking the seeping tip.

“Oh fuck!” Gojo threw his head back with a groan. “I-I wasn’t expecting you to start li-h-haaah!” He gritted his teeth as you took the tip into your mouth, gently sucking him.

His hand gently grabbed the back of your head, fisting your hair as you started bobbing your head up and down, taking more of him—inch by inch into your warm, wet mouth. Hearing him growling and groaning as you began bobbing your head faster, fuck, you were dripping wet. The man was not only handsome and had the prettiest cock you’d ever seen, but he also made the most panty-soaking sounds you’d ever heard.

His deep breaths, the groans and gasps that left his mouth made you want to push yourself, to push him closer to the edge. Satoru panted and groaned, arching his back off the bed, bucking his hips into your mouth as broken groans filled the room, drowning out the gagging wet sound emanating from you. His tip leaked thin dribbles of pre-cum on your tongue. The salty sweetness had you eagerly sucking and jerking him off with your hand.

“Haah, of fuck, oooh, that’s it, sweetheart, that’s it, sweetie, my cock just like that.” Satoru lifted his head, groaning as he watched you bob up and down, those gorgeous lips wrapped around him while your hand moved up and down, slowly but surely working him up to an orgasm. “S-Sweetie, would you be okay with playing with my balls a little?”

You pulled off of him, and a mixture of drool and pre-cum ran down the corners of your mouth. “I-I’ll do you one better.” You gasped out in between pants as you leaned down, taking one of his balls into your mouth, gently licking and sucking on it.

Satoru growled through gritted teeth, his hands fisting into the sheets, head lolling back as you worked on him with your mouth. His grunts and groans had you more and more confident with every teasing lick, suck, and stroke. He was enjoying himself just as much as you were enjoying it.

“S-Sweetheart, god fuck! Fuck you’re doing such a good job, feels good, feels so fucking good.” And he wholeheartedly meant every single word. He’s been with his fair share of people. He left a few beds, but none of his partners in the past came even remotely close to making him feel as good as you did. “I-If you keep this up much longer, I’m going to be coming like I’m sixteen again.”

You perked up and grinned against him, “Yeah? You going to cum?” His words were the extra confidence boost you needed to keep going. “Then cum Toru~” You slowly trailed your tongue over the underside of his cock, moving up the vein.

He saw it before your tongue even touched him. “W-Wait, sweetie! Hold on, don’t I—“The second your tongue ran over the vein, Satoru lost it. “Fuucck! Hnngh!” Cum spurt out of the tip, hitting the side of your face, your hand, and his stomach. After a single lick up his cock. “Oooh fuck, shit.” His head fell back as he panted heavily.

You sat up on your knees, looking at the mess on his stomach and your hand. You giggled triumphantly, reaching for your discarded shirt and wiping your hand and his stomach off. “That was so fucking hot.” You scooped the cum off your cheek before sticking your fingers in your mouth, sucking them clean. Satoru groaned weakly in response. “Are you okay, Toru?” You were giddy over his breathless form.

”Y-Yeah, no, I’m fucking great; I just saw heaven for a second.” He was still panting, trying to regain his breath. “I didn’t think you’d lick there, or I would have warned you that’s my weak spot. I’m sorry- kind of not sorry for cumming on your cheek.” He whined out with a content smile.

”Don’t apologize; it was fuckin’ hot.” You leaned in, kissing the tip of his dick.

“Nngh!” He gasped at your kiss, his still-hard cock throbbing. “S-Sensitive sweetie,” he groaned as a bead of leftover cum prerolled down the head. “I’m really sensitive there.”

You crawled up, lying down next to him. “It was hot, plus it’s nice to know I don’t suck.” Satoru grinned, rolling over, pinning you under him.

“You did suck my cock so fucking good. Your skills are superb.” His head leaned down, kissed, and nipped at your neck. “What kind of gentleman am I? Cumming before my girl even gets a chance.” His crystalline eyes burned into yours. “I guess I’m just going to have to make you cum twice as hard.”

Your cunt pulses at the promise of that. “O-Okay.” You relax against the bed, a smooth sigh leaving your lips.

Satoru purred against your skin as he kissed down your chest. He licked and nipped longingly at your stomach, all the way to your pants. He yanked them down, throwing them behind him. His large hands slid up the calves of your legs before he pushed at your knees, spreading your legs open. A harsh growl sounded from deep down in his throat as he saw the state your panties were in.

The thin fabric was soaked; a dark, wet spot had soaked through those cute panties. The sight nearly had him losing the restraint he had on himself. But after letting out a guttural groan, he slowly began kissing up your inner thighs as he laid on his stomach between your legs.

“God, you look so good, and you smell fucking delicious.” His tongue slowly slid up the wet spot on your panties.

“N-Nggh!” A needy, sharp gasp sounded from you.

“Mmmhmm.” Satoru nodded in approval. “I was right.” He tugged your panties to the side with a starved groan. “You’re are fuckin’ delicious.”

His mouth latches onto your pussy, tongue dipping between your folds, lapping your wet, slick folds. You screamed, your hands digging into his soft locks, tugging and pulling as the tip moved up to your clit. It moved slowly in circles while his hands grabbed your hips, pulling you firmly against his mouth. You cried out, eyes rolling into the back of your head as your hips jerked against his face.

Your cries of pleasure, the way your pussy twitched and clenched, had Satoru swirling his tongue faster. His eyes were locked on your face, watching you, drinking in the expressions that you made, the sounds that filled the room. He drank all of you in, just like you had done to him.

Satoru’s used one of his hands, pushing at your folds, exposing your clit. He lapped at you, from your entrance to your clit. When he reached your sensitive bud, he flicked at it. Hearing the whimpers and sharp intakes of air, Satoru repeated the pattern over and over again. Savoring the way your pussy got wetter and wetter with each flick and lap of his tongue. Not only was it from his spit, but most of it was from you.

You were in heaven, back arching, toes curling. All while your thighs trembled, clamping against Satoru’s head. But as you looked down, meeting those beautiful cerulean eyes, you could tell Satoru was enjoying this as much as you. His eyes were glazed over and dark with lust and need as he ate you out like you were his favorite treat.

You truly were becoming just that to him, too.

Satoru already liked you; he wanted to get to know you more. He’s been texting Suguru about how much fun he had been having with you and how he wanted him to meet you! He could see the two of you hanging out, spending time together. Now that you were hooking up, Satoru knew in his soul he couldn’t let this be a one-time thing.

Things were going a bit out of order, but he’d be damned if he didn’t take you out on a proper date. A real one! He would take you to the nicest restaurant in town. Maybe you could see a show or movie. After that, he’d take you home and eat your sweet pussy for dessert. The thought of just being with you, in a mundane way, had him grinding his lips into the futon.

Satoru wanted you in every way a person could.

“Oooh, ooh, fuck Toru.” You trashed your head back and forth, pulling him out of his fantasy. “T-Toru, I-I think I’m gonna cum.”

He pulled back an inch, “Yeah? Want me to finger you?” You nodded fast, sighing as he sealed his lips around your clit, before pushing two of his fingers inside of you. They curled up, finding your g-spot instantly.

“T-Toru! Toru!” Your body thrashed, legs tighter around his head as his fingers moved in a come hither motion. “Oooh! Fuck! Fuckin’ fuck!!”

“Cum~ cum for me.” Satoru moaned against your clit, sucking on it, nearly sending you off the bedding. “Good girl, make a mess, cum all over my face.”

His words, combined with his skillful tongue and fingers, sent you over the edge. You screamed his name as your back arched, eyes rolling into the back of your head. You came so hard you squirted all over Satoru’s perfect face, just like he had asked you to do. He growled eyebrows furrowed as he licked and sucked everything you offered him, not wanting to waste a single drop.

You were a wheezing, trembling mess of noodle limbs as Satoru’s fingers and mouth slowed their pace. He was easing you down from the most intense orgasm you’d ever had in your life. If that’s what he was able to do with just his fingers and tongue, what could he do with that fat dick of his?

Soft kisses trail back up your stomach and over your breasts before Satoru kisses you lazily. You kissed him back, your hands cupping his face as you both tasted each other. It was strangely and magically intimate, making you desperate for more.

“Sweetheart,” he hummed, brushing his thumb over your cheek, “are you okay? I didn’t send you to the pearly gates, did I?”

“No, I was just thinking.” He tilted his head, fingers gently brushing over your cheek.

“Thinkin’ about what?”

Your hand rested on top of his, your eyes half-lidded. “About how much I want to have sex with you.” Satoru’s back straightened as he choked on his breath. For the first time since you returned to the inn, his face shifted from flirtatious teasing into something more serious.

“Are you sure? You’re positive you want to do this?”

“I’m positive.” You kissed the palm of his hand. “I want to sleep with you.”

He breathed out a heavy sigh, pressing his forehead against yours. “Sweetie, just because I like you and that we did all this other stuff doesn’t mean we have to have sex.” The gentleness of his tone and sincerity had you melting into his touch. “I want to, god, I fuckin’ want it. But please know we don’t need to do it if you don’t want to.” Satoru had listened to you about how you didn’t need or want to have sex. He was taking your words to heart, which made your heart flutter.

“Toru, you may not need it, but I want it.”

“Okay, okay,” he groaned, kissing you desperately, “I need a condom. I-I—“ he gave an embarrassed chuckle, “I didn’t pack any since I didn’t think I needed one.”

You sat up, putting on his shirt, “Luckily for us, I got a party favor bag at the bachelorette party. One filled with all different kinds of condoms, penis candy, the whole works.” You tried to stand, only to be yanked down.

“I’ll get it. Where is it?” He yanked his shirt off of you. “Stay naked.”

“In the kitchen, it’s in my purse.”

Satoru slipped his boxers on and bolted out of the room. He returned two minutes later with your bag and a bowl of strawberries and whipped cream. He handed you the bowl before tossing his boxers off.

“I just thought we could use a snack!” He grinned, offering you a berry. “Keep our strength up.”

“Mhmm!” You took it, chewing it. “You’re so smart.”

“The strongest and the smartest!”

You opened your bag as you swallowed, and you froze as you stared inside of it. Seeing your reaction, Satoru cocked a bow as he held a strawberry between his teeth. His eyes followed yours, and the berry fell from his mouth. Inside your purse was money, lots and lots of money. Money you knew for a fact hadn’t been there a couple of hours before.

Satoru took the bag, pulling the stacks of money out while you searched the rest of your bag, ensuring your wallet and cards were still there. The entire time, Satoru was silent, his eyes darkening as he thumbed through the bills, counting them. You sighed in relief once you made sure everything you needed was still there before pulling your party favor bag out.

“Hey,” Satoru turned to you. You were met with a dark, unreadable expression. A look that you’d never seen before. “Why do you have ¥240,000 in cash?”

“I-I’m sorry?”

“¥240,000, you know, the same amount I charge for sex.” His voice was dark and full of pain. “Is this why you ‘want’ to have sex?” Grief flickered in his eyes as his jaw clenched.

You dropped the party bag, reaching for his hand and holding it. “T-Toru no! I-I wouldn’t do that! I wasn’t—” He yanked his hand away from you, rubbing it furiously over his undercut.

“Did you just want to fuck, to get over your trauma with some random guy? An escort? Pay me off like nothing happened?” He laughed coldly, his heartbreaking, shattering. “Because that’s my fucking job, so it’s okay.” He turned to watch you, see what you had to say.

“Satoru! I would never do that!” Your nose burned, and your eyes filled with tears as Satoru grabbed the money.

“Then why the fuck is the exact amount for a sex session with me in your purse? Tell me, why do you have this money?”

He waved it in front of your face. All you were capable of doing was looking between him and the money. You didn’t know what to say or how to respond. Which made you look guilty. Your silence had Satoru clenching his jaw as he ground his teeth together. He pushed himself off the bed, knocking the red berries over onto the white sheets as he put his clothes back on.

“I can’t fucking believe this.” He grabbed his cell phone, suitcase, and wallet. “Un-fucking-believable.”

You followed him, crushing some of the berries under your feet as you put your shirt on. “Satoru, wait!” He flung open the door to the room, rushing out as you slid on some shorts. “Toru!” You screamed, stumbling as you ran after him. “Satoru! Please, I didn’t do it!” You grabbed his arm, trying to stop him.

“Didn’t do what?!” He snapped back, yanking his arm away from you.”Didn’t put that much fuckin’ cash in your purse?! As if I believe that shit! I don’t even fucking know you! Like really know you! How do you expect me to believe you?!”

“I-I don’t know how it got there, Satoru! Please! Please believe me!”

He barked a bitter laugh, shaking his head as he stormed out. “Good luck with your stupid fucking wedding! Oh, and consider your orgasm as payment for the cancellation of my services!” You stood in the inn's corridor, tears running down your cheeks as you watched the best thing that ever happened to you walk away.

Life truly fucking hated you to the core.

Tag List: (AGE MUST BE IN BIO)

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lovelybucky1 · 7 months

Text

Nectar- Tommy Shelby x Reader

warnings: AFAB!reader, f receiving oral sex, fingering, mentions of masturbation, blasphemy kink, church sex, heavy religious themes, corruption kink, dirty talk, canon typical violence

masterlist

The church is quiet like it always is at this hour. The pews empty of parishioners, the confessionals vacant, and the lights dim. The priest and almost everyone in the neighborhood have long been in bed. You, however, were wide awake.

You’ve been working in the church since you were a girl, per your family’s wishes. It’s mostly charity work: caring for the sick, poor, orphans, and others in need. You also spend a fair amount of time working inside the church, cleaning and whatnot. It is fulfilling work, but it doesn’t offer much in terms of pay, so you don’t have much of a space to call your own. That is why you spend your nights in the empty church, alone save for the conversations you have with God.

Since you spend so much time in the church, you’re pretty familiar with the congregation. It’s not often you see a new face unless a new family moves to the city. When you heard the heavy oak doors open, you were expecting a devout Catholic in crisis, not the notorious crime boss, Tommy Shelby.

You watch from the first pew near the altar as he walks down the aisle toward you. His hat and coat are wet from the rain, and once he takes a seat a few rows behind you, he takes them off. You’re confused, wondering what he could be doing in your church in the middle of the night. Part of you feels nervous, knowing that danger never follows far behind a Peaky Blinder.

“Good evening, Mr. Shelby,” you decide to speak up, voice kind and sweet as always.

Tommy’s eyes flick to you, but his expression is unreadable. “I’m not dead yet, eh?” he says. You look closer at him and in the dim light, you can just make out the dried blood splattered on his face.

So maybe it isn’t a good evening. Nevertheless, he has come to a church and he is allowed sanctuary here. You make your way over to where he sits and you stand at the end of the row, obviously looking hesitant if his glance is anything to go by.

“Do you mind if I sit?” you ask. Instead of a response, he cocks his head to the side in a way that you’re interpreting as go ahead. You sit down, pressing your knees together to make yourself as small as possible. There is about a foot of space between the two of you, but even still, the proximity to him is overwhelming.

As the two of you sit in silence, your mind starts to wander. You know his Aunt Polly is Catholic; she frequents the church, though she never attends the services. You’ve overheard her prayers before, and you understand why she prefers to pray in private.

“Are you Catholic, Mr. Shelby?”

Your desire for conversation seems to surprise him. He glances at you out of the corner of his eye before he goes back to looking straight ahead at the altar. It takes him a few moments to respond, and you can see the inner battle on his face as he decides how to answer.

“No,” he says.

“I see. Your Aunt is, though. I see her nearly every day.”

“And she’s a fool for it.” The bitter tone he takes only gives you more questions.

“I take it you don’t believe in God?”

“You’re quite inquisitive,” he says, shooting you a look. “God abandoned me long ago.”

You sigh. Many of the men held the same sentiment after they came back from the war. The horrors they experienced in France, the death and destruction took the fear of God away from these men. Now, all they fear is each other.

“It’s never too late to find him again,” you offer. Tommy lets out a dry, humorless chuckle in response. “You can still be saved.”

“I’m past the point of saving. I’ve got a spot in hell waiting for me.”

You frown at that. “God is all about forgiveness. God will even forgive men like you as long as you accept him.”

“What’s the point in asking forgiveness if I don’t indent on stopping?” he asks, leaning back in his seat, making himself look more intimidating. “And what do you mean, men like me?”

As if someone dumped a bucket of ice water on you, you immediately realize your mistake.

“I didn’t mean to offend you, sir. I just meant men in your… line of work,” you say, trying to backtrack.

“And what line of work is that?”

Tommy is sitting up now, leaning just slightly closer to you. Now that he is fully facing you, you can see the blood on his face, but by the lack of injuries he has, you’re suspecting it’s not his. His gaze is piercing as he stares into your eyes, smirking as he waits for you to respond.

“I-I don’t know.” With a small, satisfied smirk, Tommy leans back again. “I’m just saying, sir, you haven’t strayed too far from God’s light.”

That makes him chuckle again. “I see. So all I have to do is absolve myself, right? Confess my sins and I’ll be God’s child once again?”

He’s toying with you now. He wants to see if you are devoted enough to your God that you’d try to convince the biggest sinner in the city to become a religious man.

“That’s right,” you smile softly, still hesitant from your previous slip-up.

“Can I confess to you?” he asks.

“I’m not the priest-”

“I want to do this now. I want to find God.” His voice is so earnest that you believe him.

“Okay,” you agree. It’s about confessing to God, the person doesn’t matter. “We can go to the confessionals.” You begin to stand, but he stops you by grabbing your wrist.

“That’s far too formal, don’t you think? We can do it right here,” he says, the faintest look of mischief in his eyes.

You nod and sit back down, folding your hands onto your lap. Tommy slides off the bench and sinks to his knees on the floor, hands clasped in front of him.

“Bless me, for I have sinned,” he begins, looking into your eyes. “It’s been many years since my last confession. In my time away I’ve done many bad things, terrible things, that make me ashamed to look in the mirror. I’ve lied, stolen, scammed, and gambled. I live a life of deceit and greed, and I’ve found great success in doing so, but those are not the sins that weigh heaviest on me.”

You watch him intently as he speaks, your eyes tracing every word his mouth forms. Your heart begins to beat quicker in your chest; the idea that you’re getting access to information only meant for God makes you feel guilty, but it’s also exciting in a strange way.

“I’ve taken many lives. During the war, I was ordered to, but I continued once I came home. I’ve killed in every way imaginable. Shot in the head, slitting their throat, hanging, drowning, burning, suffocating. I’ve had men ripped apart for betraying me, and I did not feel remorse. I watched these men suffer as my men tortured them. I laughed as they pleaded for God to save them.”

Tommy doesn’t look as remorseful as most do when they’re confessing their terrible sins. He almost looks proud, like he’s bragging about them to you as you squirm under his gaze. The graphic descriptions he’s offering make you uncomfortable like your skin is too tight on your bones. Like he’s corrupting you just by having you listen to his tales.

There is a blaze behind his light blue eyes that captivate as much as they scare you. They bore into your soul and peel back the layers, revealing all of your inner thoughts. It makes you want to run away screaming, to pray for God to rid this world of the devil in front of you but you’re stuck, frozen in front of him as he confesses.

Tommy takes a breath as if what he is going to say next brings him great shame. As if he hasn’t already confessed the worst sins man could commit.

“Perhaps worst of all, I lust. I lust after women and I envy men with beautiful wives to the point I take them for myself. I’ve had many married women in my bed, as well as hers. I fuck whores too, but only the pretty ones. And they can’t be cheap, because those women can’t keep a secret. I don’t only fuck them in the bed. I’ve fucked in my office, my car, and my pub. It doesn’t matter who these women are, but once I have my sights set on them, I am determined to get what I want.”

The confessions about his sex life shock you. Of course, you know people have pre-marital sex and affairs are common, but you’ve spent your life in the church. You don’t hear of these things frequently, and you feel bashful because of his vulgar words. Tommy holds eye contact with you as he speaks, though you find it difficult to meet his eyes.

Your body betrays you now; you’re unsure how to react. You should be scared, you are scared. There is a murderer less than two feet from you, splattered with someone else’s blood. However, he has a soothing, gentle voice, kind eyes, and a soft smile. It’s hard to believe that the man on his knees praying to God is a monster, but you find it harder to believe that there is a heat growing between your thighs from his confessions.

The vivid images of Tommy with some faceless woman play in your mind. You imagine the way he’d look lost in pleasure, carefree and blissful. You imagine how his rough hands, which are currently clasped together, would feel on your skin. You imagine how his voice would sound in your ear, how his lips would feel as he whispers.

Your heartbeat picks up in your chest, a physical reaction from the fantasies. Your skin feels hot, burning with shame as you pray that Tommy doesn’t notice your current state.

“And finally, I’d like forgiveness for lusting after the church girl who was stupid enough to think she could show me the light,” he says, hands now dropped at his side and gaze predatory.

Entranced by his words, you didn’t notice how close he had leaned in, now only inches from your face. Your breath hitches in your throat and for a split-second, you think you see Tommy’s eyes on your lips.

“Sir?” you ask, voice no more than a squeak.

“I appreciate your efforts, dear, but I sold my soul many years ago.”

Tommy’s eyes are sharp and his grin is wide as he leans closer to you. He has lured you into his trap and you fell for it like a fool. Now, helpless and trapped, he is going to swallow you whole. Your heartbeat throbs in your ears, almost downing out his sweet, deep voice.

Tommy places his hands on your knees, and even through the fabric of your skirt, you can feel the coolness of his skin. The touch, although not sexual in nature, electrifies you. A shiver runs down your spine and Tommy must notice if the slight smirk is anything to go by.

“Are you alright?” he asks, a teasing lilt to his voice.

“Yes,” you choke out.

“Would you mind helping me?”

You furrow your brow, now much more hesitant to do anything for him. Your heart is still hammering in your chest and you’re certain you are trembling slightly.

“With what?” you manage to ask. Somehow, even on his knees below you, Tommy makes you feel small.

“I need something new to worship,” he says.

Tommy slides his hands down your claves until he reaches the hem of your dress, which he then pushes up to reveal your stockinged legs. He gently guides your knees apart and you allow him until you feel too exposed. You resist against him and he looks up at you with a questioning look.

“I-I can’t,” you say.

“You can lie to yourself, you can lie to God, but you can’t lie to me,” Tommy says, grasp still from on your knees but no longer pushing. “You want this.”

You look away, over your left shoulder as you try to hold onto any of the values you held before Tommy entered the church. You’re saving yourself for marriage, and even worse, you hadn’t formally met Tommy before tonight. There’s no love, no future, between the two of you. It goes against everything you have been taught since you were a girl, but he is appealing to the primal side of you. The side of you that slips your fingers underneath your nightgown after you say your nightly prayers. The side of you that allows your eyes to linger on the men in the chuch during service, even as their wives and children sit beside them.

Tommy is not putting the thoughts of sin in your head, he is simply tempting you to act upon the urges you have felt for years.

“You’re the devil,” you whisper.

“And you’re the fuckin’ Virgin Mary,” he counters. “You spend all your life worrying about what’s going to happen when you die. How about I show you what it’s like to live, eh?”

You set your jaw, trying to save a bit of your dignity before you give the man on the floor permission to debase you. You squeeze your eyes shut and nod your head, but that is not enough for Tommy.

“I need to hear you say it.”

You wonder if he is really concerned with how much you want this, or if this is just another power move. You swallow thickly and resolve yourself to the reality of the situation: if you want anything from the devil with the silver tongue, you’ll have to play his game.

“I want it.”

You’re Eve, and you have just been tempted to take a bite out of the apple by the snake.

With a wicked grin, Tommy presses a kiss to the inside of your knee and, embarrassingly, the contact makes you jolt. He removes your shoes, unbuckling them quickly and with ease, then placing them underneath the pew. His hands reach up your skirt to grab ahold of the top of your stocking. He gently rolls them down your smooth leg and pulls it off your foot before turning his attention to the other one.

It is unnecessary for him to undress you like this, especially when your stockings wouldn’t be an obstacle. There is something about being unusually bare in a church that makes you ache with guilt, and Tommy must know that. He seems like he knows everything.

He bunches the skirt around your upper thighs and he spreads your legs farther. This time, you don’t resist. You swear you see his mouth water when he catches a glimpse of your white knickers, pristine and perfect like a good girl should wear.

“What a precious little thing you are,” he grins.

Tommy ducks his head and drags his nose along your inner thigh until he reaches your clothed mound. He presses his face between your legs and takes a long, slow inhale like he’s smoking a cigarette. His fingers press firmly into your legs and you’re certain you will have bruises left behind. You should be upset about that but truthfully, you’ve longed for something like this.

Tommy’s fingers find the edge of your panties and gently push them to the side, exposing your pussy to the church air. Your breath hitches in your throat and you watch as he stares shamelessly at you. He swipes his finger through your folds to gather your wetness on his fingertip. He brings his hand back to show your desire glistening in the dim light.

“What’s all this?” he asks smugly.

“Don’t make fun of me,” you huff.

“Oh love, I’m not making fun. I think it’s sweet how worked up you got over nothin’.”

Tommy leans in again and his hot breath fans over your cunt, which now feels cool from being in the open. You shiver with anticipation as he nears, and your body jolts when his tongue makes contact with you. It’s a light, barely there touch but it sends an electric shock through you and elicits an embarrassing moan.

You hear him chuckle, but he doesn’t stop or say anything else. He licks a stripe from your entrance to your clit, then back down. Your hands twitch at your sides, fighting back the urge to grab him, not wanting to show how much you’re enjoying his torture. He knows, of course.

He works you up slowly, not giving too much attention to one spot, not making you too sensitive. You keep your attention focused on him, watching intently as he pleasures you. You don’t even feel the sting of his nails digging into your thighs when he sucks on your clit.

“Sir, please, this is wrong,” you try to reason, but your broken, airy voice sends a different message. You don’t want him to stop, you’d probably cry if he did, but it’s still wrong. It’s still a sin.

You hold on tightly to the edge of the wooden bench to ground yourself so you don’t get lost in the pleasure. Part of you realizes how ridiculous this situation is: a notorious gangster eating out an innocent little church girl. Another part of you couldn’t give less of a shit and just wants to cum.

“Mr. Shelby, please,” you whine. It’s unclear if you’re begging for more or to stop, but Tommy doesn’t seem to care either way. He’s going to give you what he wants and nothing more, nothing less.

He slides two fingers into your soaking cunt and curls them against that spot deep inside of you that makes your toes curl. He fucks you with his fingers and works your clit with his tongue, and you feel yourself nearing the edge faster than you ever have before.

You build up to your peak, and after a particularly harsh suck to your clit, you begin to cum. Your orgasm shutters through you, making your legs twitch on his shoulders. You let out an unintelligible whine as you grip the bench. Despite having cum, Tommy doesn’t let up on his assault. He continues to suck on your over sensitive clit until you’re shrieking and pushing his head away.

He chuckles and sits back on his heels, looking at you with a glistening face. He makes a show of pushing up his sleeve and wiping his face with the back of his hand. You want to close your legs to stop the cool air from hitting your sensitive cunt, but he is still in the way, keeping you exposed.

“Nectar of the gods in there,” he smirks, glancing down at your soaked pussy.

Without another word, he stands up. He picks up his hat and coat, and begins to walk down the aisle, leaving you alone.

“Wait,” you say, voice echoing in the church. He stops and turns around, eyebrow raised. “That’s it?”

“What more do you want?” he asks.

“What about you?”

Tommy chuckles. “Such a generous soul. I’ll take care of it myself, love. You just get to prayin’. We did a lot of sinning you have to repent for.”

You sigh and nod. “Will I see you again?”

“If I decide to become a priest,” he says with a smirk before turning on his heel and continuing out the door.

You know Tommy Shelby will never turn to priesthood, but you do have a feeling he’s found something in the church worth coming back for.

my inbox is open for requests!

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macabr3-barbi3 · 30 days

Text

pretty when you cry- vox/reader

Vox likes seeing one of Velvette's new workers cry and pushes it as far as he can.

I suck at writing endings once the fucking is done but here's a little break from my Alastor stuff to write something for the TV demon who also owns my heart <3

Tags: Reader-Insert, Vaginal Sex, Desk Sex, Begging, Crying, manipulation?, Sexual Tension, Explicit Sexual Content, Obsessive Behavior, possessive Vox, Excessive use of italics <3

Vox had his eyes on you.

The newest little demon on Velvette’s team, there was something about you that had him keeping a camera or a sensor on you at all times within Vee Tower.

You were a sight to behold working for her. The Vee respected you in a way that he didn’t see often, delegating you to control of models and stage management roles. And you took to those roles well, commanding respect and authority like second nature. He watched you watch him for a while, eyeing him up from across Vel’s studio. He saw the way your eyes followed the line of his legs when he strolled into the room, how you swallowed a little harder when he rolled his shirt sleeves up and showed off his forearms. He was used to that though, Velvette’s little flunkies wanting to be a Vee groupie. It wasn’t until she sent you to him by yourself for approval on something that he got to see what you were hiding underneath.

He expected you to be the way you were in the studio- demanding voice and loud tone, shoulders squared and undressing him with your eyes while he remained disinterested. What he got instead was even better.

All trembling lips and quivering skin, you were just begging him to hurt you when you slid into his office, gave him the proposal and tried to dart away. It was baffling. He sent some electricity to the doors to slam them shut before you could escape, relishing in the way that you jumped and your eyes flicked back to him. This was exhilarating- how could a demon so at ease taking control be reduced to this ball of nerves? It had to be the lack of Vel’s presence. Maybe you knew he wouldn’t do anything while Velvette was around- she always bitched about him messing with her models and assistants, and the occasional killing or dismemberment of one was a surefire way to end up needing a screen replacement when she fucking threw something at him. But with just the two of you the possibilities were endless. It wasn’t even sexual to begin with, he just fucking loved the idea of breaking down that facade of control. Making you fear him.

It was nothing personal- Velvette had sent you with a shitty proposal and he loved to yell, and sometimes a solitary scolding was like nothing else, especially when it was someone new, someone exciting and fresh. So he took it out on you, and as he was yelling and noticed your big, bright eyes welling with tears?

He couldn’t have gotten a better high from crack.

Vox made it his personal mission to bring you to the precipice of tears whenever possible. Never in front of the team- he wasn’t an asshole, he wouldn’t make you look incompetent in front of Velvette or the people you managed- but he did let slip to Velvette that he was more likely to approve her proposals if she sent her cute little assistant his way.

He got to see you almost every day then. Velvette always had something she needed him to sign or look over, and despite the couple of times he heard you simply begging to send someone else you always ended up right back at his door.

Standing in front of his desk with your head down and your eyes lowered.

Your hands clenched at your sides as you tried to avoid eye contact, tried to keep him from seeing what he so desperately was working for.

It was enough for a while. Months of hounding you and making that porcelain exterior of yours crack just enough to let a few tears slip out when you were sent to see him. Of the change in seeing you go from fucking him with your eyes to how you still checked him out but tensed up when he came into the room for something from Velvette, fearful that he would say something, destroy this image of yourself that you’ve cultivated so carefully to display for the people you work with.

Like the limits of technology it evolved. He found himself wanting more as he watched playback recordings of you begging Velvette to send someone else in your place. His mind spliced the videos together with his own recordings of you, eyes full of tears in his office.

The result was delicious. Red rimmed eyes that sparkled with tears as you looked up at him and said, “please, V̵̡͔͔͔̭̾̀̂̑͞o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞x͕͕͚͍̿̆͂͞, ” and the only thing that kept him from blowing a fuse and throwing the city into a blackout was the fact that the audio was fucked because he had nothing to input. You never said his name- it was only ever ‘sir’ in his office, or ‘him’ when speaking with Velvette.

He wanted it desperately. Wanted you to beg him with those pretty eyes, that full mouth in a pout as he denied you just to make you plead more. To make you say his name as tears ran down your cheeks and made him short circuit from dripping into his screen ports while he railed up into you from below and made you cry from the pained pleasure-

It wasn’t citywide, but Vee tower blinked offline for a few minutes.

He booted everything back up from his control room, the spliced video of you back on the screen as the door burst open and Velvette strode in to bitch about her socials going down. She looked at the image of you on the screen, eyes wide and wet while you said Vox’s name on a loop- she looked to the demon himself and seemed to wrestle with something internally for a moment.

“If she fuckin’ quits because of you,” she warns, “I’m gonna mount your goddamn head on my wall to watch the replacement interviews, you selfish, sadistic prick!” She stormed back out of the room, muttering something about how Vox was no better than Valentino but hey- that felt like he had permission in his book!

He texts Velvette a few days later and asks her to send you to his office at the end of the day. Naturally, she replies with an eye roll and middle finger emoji, but when 3PM comes around there’s a tentative knock at his door.

He waves a hand to open it, trying his best to look bored despite the excitement racing through his hardware. He slams it behind you, relishes in the way that you flinch and your lip trembles. You approach his desk, hands clenched to your sides like always. “Miss Velvette said you wanted to see me, sir?”

He leans back in his chair, kicks his feet up onto the desk and watches the way your eyes travel the length of them. “I sure did, doll! And you can drop that ‘sir’ shit with me; Vox is just fine.” He throws you a grin which catches you off guard- your eyes go wide and you startle, almost taking a step back and fuuuuck if he doesn’t want to just call his whole plan off and just jump you where you stand.

But Vox could be patient. He wanted to have you where he wanted you first, which was red faced and slack jawed and teary with ecstasy and need.

He beckons you closer with a claw and you obey- a lamb to the slaughter. “Vel tells me that I’ve been a little hard on you,” he says, all syrupy sweet and earnest. “Says that you’ve been asking her to send someone else up for her errands and proposals.” He lets his screen drop into a frown. “I’m hurt, sweetie. Did I do something wrong?”

He can see it in your eyes, the internal conflict. Deny deny deny- or be honest. He could work with either one.

“I- I mean, you’re kind of… mean to me, sir.”

Bingo. Honesty it was. He lets his feet drop down from the desk to stand and lean forward, far enough that he can get a grip on your chin. “Darling, you’ve not seen ‘mean’ from me,” he chuckles. “You think a little yelling is mean? Do you know who you’re talking to?”

You’re fighting the urge to pull away from him, and he can see it then- the shine of moisture along your lash line. It’s so much better up close than it is from across the desk, and he resists the desire to flick his tongue to your eyes and let his mouth crackle and pop at the taste of you. You aren’t talking though, adopting the same manner you get when he yells at you, all quiet and downturned, and that just won’t do.

“I asked you a question,” he says, and tightens his hold on you ever so slightly. You grimace and a drop leaks from your clenched eyes- his cock pulses at the sight. “I said, do you know who you’re talking to?”

“Yes, sir,” you stammer out, and it turns to a yelp as he lets a jolt of electricity bolt through his fingertips.

“V̵̡͔͔͔̭̾̀̂̑͞o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞x͕͕͚͍̿̆͂͞,” he corrects, his voice distorted as he tries to reign in his control. He wasn’t prepared for the feel of your skin in his hands, doesn’t think he can draw this out as long as he wanted to. “But it’s okay! Here’s what we’re gonna do, you and me- we’re gonna let it be in the past!” He lets you go and you stumble back a couple steps. He’s quick to follow, coming around the desk and throwing an arm around your shoulders. “How’s that sound, huh? I’ll stop yelling at you when Velvette sends you up here- who wants to take the time to teach someone new the route anyway, right?- and you just have to do this tiny little thing for me in return.” He turns you with his hands on your shoulders so you stand in front of him, wedged between his domineering height and the hard surface of the desk at your back.

He can feel how tense you are under his hands and delights in the way you glance up at him, bottom lip held lightly between your teeth, pupils huge and mesmerizing- almost the picture perfect duplicate of the video that he had spliced together, the reality of it so close he could fucking taste it. “What… what do I have to do?”

He uses the leverage he has to shove you, your elbows flying out to catch yourself on the desk as you’re bent backwards at the waist. As you try to push yourself up and out from under him he drops to his arms, bracketing you between them and keeping you locked in place beneath him. “Beg me,” he growls, his teeth snapping in front of your face, and the way that you’re trembling under his body is making the processors in his head spin. Your eyes are wide and wet and dilated but he can’t tell if it’s the way he wants it yet- it might be in fear, not in pleasure. And sure, fear was fun, you don’t become an Overlord without a taste for it. But he wanted you to want him. He wanted to make you need him badly enough that you would let the pleads fall from your lips like rain from the sky, like the tears he wanted to watch you sob while you asked him pretty please.

“Beg and we’ll let it all slide, dollface, does that sound fair?” Vox lets one of his hands up from the desk, trailing a sharp claw through the lingering wetness from your eyes and down your cheek, brushing across the front of your throat. He hears the catch in your breath and wants to drink the sound down, let it fester in his body until it consumes him. “You give me a couple ‘pleases’ with some tears in those pretty eyes of yours and all is forgiven! You can keep running those errands for Vel, keep yourself in her good graces. And I’ll stop yelling at you- we can be regular old pals when you stop up here for something!”

The tension in your jaw is delectable, as is the way you’re trying to keep your legs pressed together so he can’t slot himself between them like he wants to. He wishes he had olfactory processors so he could smell you, press his screen to your neck and chest and just fucking everywhere, tell from the scent of your body if you were as fucking turned on by this as he was. He’s so caught up in the thought of it, trying to figure out if he could get the necessary equipment installed to make such a thing possible, that he almost misses it.

“P-please,” you whisper, and Vox can’t help the way that his hips stutter hard against the air, not yet pressing into you like he fucking wants to. “Please, sir-”

He parts your legs with a knee, groaning internally at the heat coming from you where he presses against you. “If I have to correct you one more time,” he warns, “you’ll really see what mean looks like coming from me.” He needs you to say it like you did in his edited video. Needs his name dripping from your lips and his cum dripping from your cunt but you have to ask properly first. He rolls his hips, knowing that you can probably feel the hard length of his cock drag against your thigh.

“Vox, please,” you finally say, and when your eyes open he can see the tears gathered at the corners, so sweet and perfect and exactly what he fucking needed. There’s no distortion this time, the words falling freely and unaltered. It’s all he can do to rip himself away from you, allow you to rise off the desk with your chest heaving, drops of wetness sliding down your face with the change in angle as you watch him with wide, confused eyes.

Vox has to clear his throat but when he does, he’s back to the picture of business. “There we go!” He says, letting a little bell ding like a game show winner, fists resting on his hips. He’s cool, casual despite the harsh line of his dick pressing against his zipper. “That wasn’t so hard, huh? And now we’re all set- I’ll see you next time Vel sends you up, doll!” He turns to leave and it’s fucking killing him to act this next part out. If there’s even a chance that you don’t do what he expects you to do, he’s gonna go back to the penthouse of Vee tower and tear his goddamn organs out through his throat-

“Wait!” A hand grips the back of his shirt and he grins, wild and glitching before he schools it and turns back to you with a disinterested glance. “I-” You swallow hard and avoid his eyes, but he can still see the lines where the tears had run.

“You need something, doll?” Your eyes track his body from top to bottom, stopping at the obvious bulge in his pants. He reaches a hand out to tip your chin up to meet his gaze. “Can’t help you if I don’t know what you want.”

There’s bells and whistles going off on his internal soundboard as you step closer to him, fisting your hands in his shirt properly. “I… I want you,” you mumble, and even without the crying its got him rock hard. “I want more. Please, Vox-”

His hands are on your hips and setting you back on his desk before you can finish the thought, shoving your skirt up to your waist and dragging you against him. “F̼̼͓̙ͤ̋̅̚͞͞ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡c̨̨̣̮̝̈́̔ͯ̀͂k̼̼̞̦̞̼̔, baby, that’s all you had to say,” he groans at the feeling of your panties, hot and damp against him. He relinquishes a hand from your body to snip through the fabric like paper, wrapping your legs around his waist and grinding against you as hard as he can with his fucking pants still in the way. He’s ready to cut them off himself when you reach a trembling hand down between your bodies and start clawing at his belt.

He feels his legs turn to jello, and he presses his screen to your forehead. “That’s fucking right, doll, need me like I need you,” he hisses, and then his tongue is in your mouth and you’re moaning against him.

(Val had told him once that to kiss him was like an arc flash- that what he lacked in lips he more than made up for with tongue, and that it felt like shoving a fork in a power socket- “but like, in a good way… and with my dick.”

Vox assumed that translated to pussy as well- he’d never had any complaints but he really needed it to be the case here with you.)

You manage to get his belt undone and pulled from the loops of his pants, discarded on the floor as you whimper into his mouth. He rips his fly open and pulls his cock out to press against your slick cunt, delights in the way that you groan against him and try to angle your hips upwards to meet him.

“Slow your roll, baby,” he starts to starts to say as he pulls off your mouth; only to bluescreen, choking on his tongue when you find the angle and get the tip of his dick inside of you with a gasp. “F̼̼͓̙ͤ̋̅̚͞͞ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡c̨̨̣̮̝̈́̔ͯ̀͂k̼̼̞̦̞̼̔!”

The heat of you is blinding. He wants to clench his eyes shut with the pure fucking ecstasy of it, just fuck himself into your pliant, willing body and make you scream his name.

“Please, Vox, please, I want-” You dig your fingers into his shirt, try to roll your hips more into him, to spear yourself on him. “Please-”

“Oh, I’m gonna f-fucking g̬̬̱ͩ͋͟͟i̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟v̹̹̘̼̞̻͆ͩ̓ͪ͢ḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧ i̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟t͖͖̠̬͛ to you, b-baby,” he glitches out, his voice processors overwhelmed like the rest of him. “Whatever you w-w-want, it’s y͙͙̪̰ͫ͌́o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡ṛ̣̬̫̍͌ͩ͟s̨̞̞̰͎͎̪̩͕̈́̀ͯ̍ͧͅ, and you’re fucking-ing m- m̰̰̹͚̙̂ͦ͗͠i̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟n̫̫̘̗͕̲̲̎ͥḛ̡̰̳͓̥ͬ͋ͪͧ.”

He brings a hand between your bodies to circle your clit, thrusting the rest of his length into you in one hard shove and you cry out at the feel of it. His eyes flash to your face and he short circuits at the sight that greets him- he’s pretty sure his hard-drive just gives out.

Your mouth hangs open, sharp teeth on display as you pant and gasp his name, your face red and tear-streaked clinging to his shirt.

He shifted his angle a bit and you cried his name, throwing your head back so hard you smacked it off the desk. He didn’t even have time to ask if you were okay before you were clenching around him, coming with a scream that echoed the walls of his office, your body tensed and locked around him like a vice.

It’s beautiful. Magnificent. That video he had spliced was fucking dogshit compared to the reality of having you clenched around his dick and weepy with need. Everything was dogshit compared to it- he could live in this moment for the rest of his afterlife. For the rest of eternity and beyond. Maybe he could find a way to bottle this feeling and make it a substance he could inject into his fucking heart.

You’re still grasping at him, fingers sliding down from his shirt to grasp at his hands where claws are digging into your hips. “Do it,” you’re gasping, “please, Vox, more-”

Vox comes with a grunt inside of you, the force of his thrusts making the desk screech across the floor as your cunt wrings every drop of pleasure from him, a snarl on his lips as he gives you everything, fucks into you until you lay breathless and tear-stained on the desk as he pulls out, his release spilling back out of you. He wants to frame the sight of it- he’d make it his screensaver if he could bear the thought of literally anyone else seeing this from you when he spaced out or went inactive. But this, your tears and your pleads and the way that you’re still shivering with the force of your orgasm? That was his, and would be his alone. He would fucking kill anyone who even thought that they could bring you to this state, anyone who dared to imagine it.

“V-Vox?”

“A͔͔̜̗̦ͩ̅̎s̨̞̞̰͎͎̪̩͕̈́̀ͯ̍ͧͅd̶̵̯̯̼̘ͨ̓f̰̰̯͕͊̃̊͞͞͞g̬̬̱ͩ͋͟͟h̨͚͚͖ͯ̒̄͗͞j̺̺̭͖̘̬̃̓ͨk̼̼̞̦̞̼̔l͖͖̰̝ͭ̀͘” he says eloquently, and the word flashes across his screen a couple times before he comes back online properly, enough to string together an actual goddamn sentence. “Fuck, sorry doll,” he chuckles. “I think you broke me for a sec there.” He helps lower you from the desk onto your shaky legs, his chest only puffing a bit at how unsteady you are after being freshly fucked. “You good?”

“I think I’m okay,” you agree, sorting your skirt out, covering up all of the delicious bruises and scratches he had etched into your skin. Maybe next time -would there be a next time?- you would let him use his teeth, draw blood and leave marks in places that people would see so that they would know you were owned. “Um-”

“I’ll, uh, replace the panties,” he says sheepishly when he notices the strip of fabric he had sliced off your body on the floor. He brings a clawed finger up to wipe gently under your eyes at the lingering, unshed tears. “I just couldn’t help myself, you know.”

“That’s okay,” you say, and for the first time- was it really the first time? He would have to review his files, search through them to see if this had happened before- you smiled at him, eyes crinkled and a sweet curve to your mouth. “I was just as much involved, sir.”

“Vox,’ he says with an edge, but no real heat to it. Could he make you smile like that all the time? The crying was hot, the tears what really got him hard, but that smile… he’d do bad things to good people to see that again. “You’ve not gonna quit, are you? Velvette threatened to decapitate me if you quit because of me.”

You chuckle, the sound soothing his fried audio sensors. “I won’t quit. I’ll even offer to come up more often if we get to do that again.” You throw him another dazzling smile. “Unless that was a one-time thing?”

“Not at all, babydoll,” he says, and throws an arm over your shoulder as he escorts you to the door. He makes a mental note- which then sends an actual note out- to bring someone up to the office to get it cleaned up before work the next day. “Let me walk you to your car. I think you and I are going to be seeing a lot of each other going forward. Hey, I even have an idea- what if you leave Velvette’s team and come to mine? A personal assistant doesn’t sound-”

‘I think she would kill both of us,” you interject, and he has to agree you aren’t wrong. But he still spends the rest of the walk- “hey what do you know, elevator came to the penthouse instead of the garage floor, why don’t you come in for a drink?” - trying to convince you.

#hazbin hotel #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer #vox x reader #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #x reader #vox smut #my stuff <3

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garoujo · 11 months

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NOW PLAYING: ✩ ˛˚ . 𝓓𝓐𝓓𝓓𝓨’𝓢 𝓖𝓘𝓡𝓛 feat. GOJO SATORU!

ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ wc: 4.8k! your step dad knows that at the end of the day you’ll always be a daddy’s girl.. you just don’t realise it yourself!

warnings! f!reader, stepcest, noncon!somno (kissing & touching) -> eventual consent (it happens more than once, you wake up during one of them & it escalates to more), stepdad!gojo, age gap, you refer to him as ‘daddy’, this is my submission for @killsaki’s family ties collab, fank u so much starry for letting me join & write this! ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! it’s been a while since i’ve written step daddy!gojo but pls head the warnings! ૮꒰ྀི⊃⸝ ⸝ ⸝⊂꒱ྀིა

it’s late, you think aimlessly as you find yourself blinking drowsily at the crappy slasher you’ve wound up watching on the couch in the living room. you’re tired, but you can’t sleep and the more you think about it the more restless you feel as you try to burrow yourself deeper into the plush blanket that’s wrapped around you, comfortable but you still feel cold as you wait—beg for sleep to take you.

another drowned out screen rattles you as it pours into the room and you find yourself pouting before deciding to flick through your phone instead. it’s like you’re caught in a haze as you swipe through your feed, offering the tv a quick glance every so often but you’re not paying enough attention to your surroundings to hear the careful steps behind you.

there’s another scream followed by another sigh from you before you jolt when long arms fall across your shoulders, followed by a smooth voice that steals your entire attention with how much it seems to soothe you.

“oh? you’re up late.” your stepdad gojo drawls as his looming figure drapes over the back of the couch behind you, his chin resting on the top of your head as his crystalline gaze squints at the tv screen before you nudge him off with a huff.

“what the hell, satoru!” you grumble as you turn around to shoot him a frown from over your shoulder, but that only seems to make him meet you with a smirk before he’s rounding the couch to see you clearer. “but yeah, i just cant sleep.”

“you scared?” he’s teasing you, you can tell by the way gojo’s smile twitches wider, sending you a narrowed sort of look beneath the snowy peaks of his hair as he tilts his head at you. but you hate how good he was at it, making you cross your arms as you try to focus back on the movie you were now suddenly so interested in again.

“you’re so annoying.” it’s a half-hearted rebuke, you’re far too tired to think up something witty and you know even if you did, he’d say something even more infuriating.

gojo was always like that with you, he seems to take pleasure in getting to you, prodding you for a reaction and it’s annoying how good he is at doing it. maybe that’s just how he was, the role of father to someone else’s child seemed to come a lot easier to him than it might to others, but you always put that down to the megumi he always spoke about, so that was never an issue. although you’ve never been able to shake the feeling that your stepdad likes teasing you a little more than he does everyone else.

“hm, you need protectin’? ‘ts my job remember.” his honeyed tone brings your tired gaze from your thoughts and back to him before he knocks his hand against your thigh, ushering you along the couch before his lanky body is falling into the spot right next to you.

“i can take care of myself.” you huff as you look away from him again and you hear gojo hum like he’s thinking it over before he breathes out a laugh, letting his palm push under the blankets to smooth across your thigh like some sort of faux attempt to soothe you. the touch lingers longer than you’d like but you swallow it down, he’s always been a little touchy.

“oh? but a sweet thing like you is always first to go.” you hate the way the compliment mixed with the back and forth motion of his hand on your skin feels like it burns you. it’s like something ignites in your skin despite how cold you felt a moment ago and it’s sinful the way your instincts seem to push you closer to him as you seek out more.

your stepdad gojo always ran warm so you’ll blame it on that rather than the heat that’s buzzing along your shoulders and thighs with every swipe of his hand, his fingers squeezing comfortingly at the skin as you make yourself comfortable in his side. despite the teasing, you were always close so the proximity isn’t something that was completely new, although this feeling is.

“nah, it’s always the annoying, handsome ones.” you’re blissfully unaware of your adorable little reply until you hear the snowy haired man next to you chuckle before he’s pulling your legs over his, sending you a look that makes you cast him a sidewards glance before you’re avoiding it all together.

“is that right?” gojo goads, deliberately as he pinches at your thigh a little too hard but just enough to have you kicking your legs before he’s wrapping one of his long arms around your shoulder again, this time to curl you closer into him as his lips rest against your temple. he can feel you grumbling, probably a little embarrassed you just called your stepdad handsome but he’s sure the things going on in his mind right now are a whole lot worse.

“shutup, you’re missing the movie.” but you’re just too adorable for him to ignore.

but your stepdad thinks you’re so pretty when an hour or two later you’re finally asleep — your cheek pressed against his shoulder when his ministrations on your skin mixed with his comforting body heat has finally lulled you.

gojo finds himself wanting to rest there a little longer as he stretches out his neck meanwhile probably the fourth sequel to that shitty movie plays. but he lets his muscles pop before he’s pulling you closer and sighing when he finds his eyes dropping to the press of your chest against his own, broader one. it’s sinful, he knows he shouldn’t deliberately put himself this close to you, not when he’s well aware of your little crush on him — one that he welcomes, maybe due to his own growing affection that stemmed way past that of a father figure at this point.

although despite his own selfish desires to keep you pressed against him all night, he knows you’ll complain tomorrow about the uncomfortable sleeping position and as much as he’d like to use the opportunity to insist that he’s the comfiest, he knows he should let you sleep.

“gotta get you to bed, angel. yeah?” so gojo tries to push himself up from the couch as he whispers to you, carefully as to not rouse you from your sleep but it proves unsuccessful when your brows fall into a frown. your arm round his waist to squeeze yourself closer as your pretty, sleepy feathers tilt perfectly up at him and it’s almost like you’re teasing him as he falls back against the cushions behind him, your lips parted and pouty — like you’re begging for him.

your mom did always complain about how much he spoils you.

he shouldn’t, but it wasn’t uncommon for dads to kiss their daughters goodnight and who is he to skip out on the necessities of his role. so gojo let’s his gaze drop to your lips before his fingers are tracing along the shape of your jawline, holding you there before he’s leaning into kiss you once on the lips as a goodnight and then again because he wants to, because he can.

the kiss is short and sweet but you whimper as he pulls away, pushing yourself closer like you’re asking for more and it’s like his self control seems to snap, string by string at the sight of you so pliant against him. suddenly the man who was considered to be the strongest is nothing but weak at the sight of his own step daughter.

“gotta stop teasing me like this, sweet girl. g’nna make me do something you’ll hate me for.” but gojo leans in again anyway, deliberately this time as his lips end up back on yours for a kiss that’s just as warm although it seems harder. you’re pulled in close and despite the way something in his chest tells him to stop, he won’t—he can’t. he lets his mouth press you open, moving you so easily but still gentle enough not to wake you as he parts your lips, grunting when his tongue finally pushes up against yours and his hands fall to your body once more.

he lets his tongue graze along your own, tasting you deeply until there’s a twitch in his hips and a throb in his cock when his palm falls to your chest, taking a slow handful of your tits before he’s swiping his thumb across the shape of your nipple and growing hungrier when it pulls a whimper from you.

gojo knows he’s too far gone now, but you’re still asleep — his own little step daughter putting all of your trust in your step dad like he isn’t kissing your pliant body right now, squeezing and palming at your breasts in his palms before he’s throwing caution to the wind and trailing under the hem of your shirt instead. your skin feels like silk beneath his hands and the first, real press of your chest is heavenly as he licks into your mouth, wishing he could feel you kissing him back as he pinches and rolls your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

he gives himself a few moments before he pulls away, before he gets carried away and lets his hand fall back to your hips. but it’s like instinct the way it explores the topography of your body — finding the heat of your intimate skin almost too quickly as his lips trail hungrily down your neck.

gojo can feel the sweet press of your pussy through the little shorts you’d opted to wear, he can imagine how it would feel when his tongue would graze through your slick folds but he knows he’d still rather have the real thing, instead he’s left with an infinite void that only seems to make his cravings worse. he rolls your sensitive skin between his teeth before he rubs at your clothed clit with two fingers and the sound it pulls from you is oh so fucking sweet.

“oh, daddy knows what y’need.” you’re so fucking sensitive, he wants nothing more than to hear you cry for your daddy — breathing out sweet little uh-huhs and pleas as he pushes into you but he won’t wake you, not yet. so he’ll keep his movements gentle, light despite the way he can feel you growing warmer, stickier under the press of his thumb when his voice is pressed to your skin and your thighs twitch with every intoxicating flick of his wrist.

you’re close and he’s warm, breathing deep as gojo pushes himself deeper into you — igniting the spit soaked nerves along your skin as he suckles another mark into your neck but just as he goes to toy with the waistband of your shorts, he stops. he swallows deep, harshly as he catches his breath — like he’s just snapped out of a daze before he’s giving you another sweet kiss on the cheek and a look that lasts a little too long before he speaks.

“time for bed, sweet thing.”

but you’ll wake up alone, warm and sticky like you just woke up from a lewd dream with the pulse of a hickey on your throat — tucked up in your bedroom like you didn’t fall asleep on the couch as you mutter out a “daddy?” and you’ll stay unknowing. for now. until he says so.

you’ll have that pretty little dazed, confused look on your face when your soft footsteps make their way to the kitchen and gojo, your stepdad, will be there to meet you like he always is when your mom is on another business trip as he leans over the counter — his head propped up against his fist as he sends you a teasing expression.

“why’re you looking at me like that?”

“hey now, no good morning? you break my heart.” you smile a bit at his words, blame it on your body still waking up but he seems to like that as he pushes himself up from the counter, giving you a little relief from him bothering you as your stepdad opts to putting a cup for you right next to his own on the counter.

“mom will kill you for using so much sugar in your coffee, didn’t she tell you to stop that.”

your words make gojo’s usual smirk stretch along his features as he takes a few languid steps towards you, sending you a half-lidded look over the frames of his glasses before he’s chuckling. “come on now, don’t be like that. i think we’re allowed our own little secrets.” he quips back quickly, letting his palm pat along your shoulders and you think it’s strange the way your skin seems to twitch and tingle at the swift, seemingly innocent touch despite the way you feel it turn your stomach.

but despite the uneasy feeling that you’re not sure you like at all, aswell as the increasing damp spot in your panties most mornings and the uncomfortable heat that only seems to grow and burst in your stomach every time you see him. you still seek him out when you’re tired and he welcomes you with open arms as you curl into him on the couch, it’s only natural to take more when he’s so eager to give, right?

this was torture for your stepdad too after all, gojo wants nothing more than for you to blink up at him as he breaks you open — he wants to feel the stretch of your walls and taste of your slick pussy on his tongue but he’s held himself back. you should be grateful that he’s only settled for playing with you through your clothes when you sleep on his chest, quenching his thirst for you with a few messy, sloppy goodnight kisses.

but you’re feeling particularly restless tonight despite the way you normally slept so well against your stepdads chest — finding your sleep anything but deep as you slip in and out of consciousness uncharacteristically. it always seems to find you again quickly, normally due to the soothing graze of your snowy-haired pillows fingers along the length of your spine or the smooth hum of his voice.

though when you wake next, the last thing you want to do is sleep when you realise your thighs are spread and your step dads lips are on your neck, his hand pushed down the front of your shorts to rub sticky circles into your clit through your panties.

“daddy?” your voice is weak, wound up tight with the way gojo’s pressing the pads of his fingers into you and keeping you in place, but he freezes when he realises you’re awake — readying himself to pull away despite the way your body is begging him to stay. he grunts and his hand works to leave you but you reach for him and pull him back before you tangle your other hand in his hair. “daddy~”

your back feels sticky where it presses against his chest and despite how disgusting it should feel, you’ve never felt warmer as you spread your thighs wider and you lose every sense of right and wrong with his touch. you hook them over his own as his hips press tight against yours from behind, the angle letting you feel the heavy press of his cock against your lower back as he chuckles breathlessly into the crook of your neck.

“oh? well good mornin’ sweet thing. didn’t know you were so greedy f’ me.” gojo’s lips curl when you shudder into him and he takes your new found consciousness as an invitation for him to push through the final layer of your soaked panties, finally allowing himself to pet through your folds as he eases past the thin fabric.

“what—ah! what’re you doing?” it’s filthy, the break in your voice when he groans at the slick he collects under his touch — trailing it up the press of your pussy to circle your clit as you murmur out another sweet cry for your daddy. so sweet, that only makes him press down on the sensitive bud harder, keeping you tight against him as he rubs at you with two fingers and smears a gentle kiss behind your ear.

“don’t try and pretend you weren’t teasing me, ‘ts mean to lie to your daddy.” your body does little to defend you when every swipe of gojo’s fingers has your hips twisting under his touch. “hm, think i’m spoilin’ you too much, ‘s that it?” his movements slow with his words and he thinks it’s adorable the way you hiccup and beg for him to keep going, grinding into the press of his palm as you babble about how you like when he spoils you.

that’s what everyone says, your mom would always tell him to stop babying you but fuck if only she could see you now.

but he hums, with that same teasing demeanour he always has before his movements come to a halt and the look you send him over your shoulder makes his cock twitch as pretty tears gather at your lashes. gojo sucks his lower lip between his teeth, then he leans into give you another affectionate, soothing kiss on the cheek before his fingers are sinking into your pussy.

“mmm, do i treat you well, sweet thing? you’re such a daddy’s girl, ain’t ya?” you feel him smirk against your cheek as he curls his long fingers inside the squeeze of your walls, letting his palm rub against your slick pussy everytime he sinks them deeper into you until you’re shaking filthily in his lap. he quickly finds a pace that makes your toes curl from where they’re hanging over his thighs, your body rocking in time with him as you ride his fingers and you know he fucking loves that when he rewards you with another hickey suckled into your throat.

“yes, yes, y-yes! ‘m daddy’s girl— satoru, please,” you can barely think never mind speak with how perfectly gojo’s pressing into the sweet spots inside of you, your words coming out a jumble of moans and whines. it’s like he’s mapped out your nerves before hand despite the way this has been the first real feel of you. but his fingers are so long that it’s almost too much with how well he seems to pet at your walls, so good that you could spend forever right here.

“oh, then i’m all you need, yeah? your one ‘nd only?” gojo’s words are possessive when they’re buried into the next hickey he sucks into your skin, his tongue hot as it lavs over the raised mark but it only seems to ignite the flames that lick at your spine as your legs shake. your thighs close around his wrist but he only fights to pry you back open so he can watch the way you cream around your stepdads fingers, laughing so fucking infuriatingly when he keeps going until you’re twitching and making his smug smirk stretch even wider.

“so good fo’ me, wish you could see how pretty y’ look like this, princess.” you’re breathing in short, quick pants as the buzz from your orgasm makes you dizzy. but despite that, you still seem to move so easily when you feel your daddy pat at your trembling thighs, urging you to push yourself off his lap and onto the cushion at his side before he’s turning to look at you once more.

“gonna look even better on daddy’s cock though, yeah?” gojo lets his large hands smooth their way up your thighs before he pushes himself up to his knees — easing down the waistband of his sweats to take out his heavy cock as you nod shyly, still reeling from your orgasm as your eyelashes flutter prettily.

you should feel gross with the way you almost drool at the sight of your stepdads cock, someone who’s meant to parent you not fuck you, but you think that shameful part of you already died when you creamed around his fingers. now, you’re only left with the longing to have him sink up into you, warm and long. so he leans down to kiss you greedily, pressing you into the cushions beneath you as your thighs spread for the push of his hips and wrap around him.

“hmmm, so greedy. my pretty baby.” gojo mumbles as he yanks your shirt up to pool around your breasts and the sight makes his cock twitch as he pulls back to give you a pretty look, brushing his hand through the snowy peaks of his hair so you can take in his hypnotising gaze that make you shudder underneath it like you would on a white winter. he presses the blunt tip against the entrance to your pussy and he gives you another teasing grin when he pauses for a few moments, waiting until your lips part to whine at him before they curl around a moan when he sinks into you instead.

but he knows he’s really fucked with the first saccharine squeeze of your walls around him as he breaks you open, watching the way your puffy folds spread for him because he knows he’ll never be able to stop. now he’s had a taste of the pretty little pussy that’s always parading around his home, he wants to keep you all to himself — ruining you for anyone who isn’t your daddy. you won’t need anyone else when he’s here.

“daddy! ‘s too much..” you gasp and it draws gojo in so he can kiss you again, rocking gently into the hug of your pussy until he finally bottoms out with a drawn out, long groan as his hips press flush and tight against your own. but because your step dad has always been careful, caring he gives you time to adjust to the stretch as his mouth twists softly into yours — bathing you in sweet kisses that make you relax before your hands are in his hair and you’re smearing your slick along his pelvis as you whimper for more, please! ‘ts s-so big..

“oh, but y’re so hungry for me.” his words are emphasised by the slow sway of his hips, pressing the length of him along the sweet spots inside of you that he reaches so easily as he pulls away to suck on his lower lip. “see?” he grits again as he presses down onto your stomach and it’s insane the way he suddenly feels deeper — the sharp cut of his stare so intense on the way you take him that you wouldn’t be surprised if he could see through you.

“look at me, angel,” gojo’s lips part ever so softly as his eyes search for yours again “wanna see you when y’re on the end of daddy’s cock,” and he wants to pinch your cheeks when you give him a starry-eyed look.

“wanted this pussy for so long, knew it was fuckin’ made just for me.” his words are hissed from between his teeth as he starts a pace that’s not particularly fast, but it’s heavy enough to have you jolting beneath him as his hands grab at your hips to keep you in place. his words are true after all, he can’t even count the amount of times his sweet little step daughter had him hard — too warm under his clothes despite the way he always seemed to look away before you caught him.

maybe if he’d met your gaze, coaxed you into him and let you catch the way he’d drink you up he’d have had you like this sooner. but gojo thought you to be so untouchable, but now your pussy is squeezing tight around his cock and he’s mouthing at your throat like he’s dreamed and that thought seems to fade away.

but your mind is a mess with how well he’s fucking you — losing yourself in the feeling of your daddy, in the feeling of finally having him close to you as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and try to meet every wet connection of his hips with needy little grinds of your own. the blunt head of his cock feels like it slides along all of your sweet spots perfectly and you’re not sure if it’s still the lingering aftermath of your orgasm that has you so close already, or the realisation that the man over you is someone who should be anything but.

the reality is gojo’s deliberately dragging the pleasure out of you, rocking his body seamlessly with your own because he’s determined to have you craving him like he will you. he’s grinding his pelvis along your putty clit with every thrust and he doesn’t think he’s ever tasted anything sweeter than the sound of his name on your lips when he’s kissing you once more.

“daddy~ ‘m so close!” you gasp dreamily and your pussy squelches as warmth bursts and tingles across your thighs — the sweet lull your voice seems to have taken making the man over you’s pace stutter as he forces more of his cock into your slick walls.

“oh yeah? can tell, squeezin’ real tight already.” gojo grunts as he pushes his body closer to your own, rutting you into the cushions below you like a wild fucking animal despite the way he feels completely at your mercy. he’s past caring, past holding back when the heavens and the earth have dropped a perfect little thing like you right in his lap like he’s the honoured one.

“you want daddy’s cum, sweet thing?” his hands almost curl into your hips and he swear his lungs quake on his next thrust as the needy coax of your walls tremble around him. he needs you to want him, to beg for him before he crumbles under the weight of his own desire. you offer him another moan, followed by a mantra of sweet little yes daddy’s and uh huhs that only make him greedier, but it’s not enough.

“hm? can’t hear you, gotta be nice ‘nd loud f’ me.”

but despite the way you know your mind should be signalling, ringing for you to stop. you can’t, your lips part and you feel like your body is going to crumble with every one of gojo’s crushing thrusts. “yes, yes! p-please, want your cum, daddy!” you gasp despite the way you shouldn’t but you feel him pet at your cheek so softly that you can’t help the way your body betrays you.

“then don’t hold back on me,” your step dad grunts and you don’t, your pussy throbs around him and he grits his teeth as your cream around his cock. his hips press into yours, snug and tight with the first milking compression that has his huge stature curling over you as he sinks his teeth into the crook of your neck. but he doesn’t stop, he coaxes and fucks you through your orgasm until you’re like putty beneath him, thighs trembling to pull him closer and he hopes the fucking walls remember how pretty you sound when you cry his name.

“only f’ me, sweet girl. yeah?” he asks again and you struggle to stutter out anything coherent with how good you feel, the slight sting of overstimulation making you feel warm as gojo’s breathing becomes laboured and he finally spills hot and thick inside of you. but it’s filthy, when the back and forth stutter of his hips only seeks to push it deeper inside of you, a gooey ring of liquid forming around the base of his cock everytime he draws his hips back before they sink into you with another louder squelch.

he finally stills a few moments later as you whimper at the slight throb between your thighs, pushing gently at his chest to ease him off of you as he gives you a handsome, pink cheeked sort of smirk that you can’t deny makes you feel warm, loved.

“you could’ve atleast woken me up!” you hiss, playfully as you swat at your stepdads chest but he’s quick to take your hand in his before he’s intertwining them, leaning in to press a few kisses along your cheeks until you’re giggling and the infuriating smirk seems to return to his features far too quickly despite the way his softening cock still rests inside of you.

“oh yeah? but you were already so wet you must’ve been dreamin’ of me, sweet girl.”

#݁ . ࿓ : sealed#cw stepcest #cw somno #cw noncon #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you

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grandline-fics · 4 months

Note

Do you think I can request a seamstress y/n being part of the strawhat crew and how they need to make new outfits for the crew as disguises and when it came to luffys turn, it was kinda difficult for them because they have a huge crush on him and seeing him bare for measurements kills them a little-

Kinda just a sorta oblivious luffy witnessing y/n get flustered a little!

Really curious how you’re going to make it end lol

(Love your writing sm! Thank you for advanced!)

DESCRIPTION: You’re the crew’s seamstress and measuring Luffy leaves you flustered

WARNINGS: none

CHARACTERS: Luffy

WORDS: 934

A/N: Sorry this took so long but I hope it was worth it and that you like how it all turned out

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST

———————

When it came to your passion of designing and making clothes you were unbelievably focussed. It was to the point that if the crew wanted to distract you from something they’d bring up the topic of a new design they had in mind. Some of the crew were more subtle about this tactic than others, for instance when Sanji needed you away from the kitchen for a few hours so he could work on your surprise birthday banquet, Robin expertly brought up a floral skirt and top combination she wanted to wear but couldn’t find the right colour scheme anywhere.

On that occasion you’d gotten so motivated that by the time you were needed for the banquet you had to be physically dragged out of your workshop. Oppositely there was one time Zoro had stolen your dressmaker’s mannequin to test out which angle would be best to attack someone from for his new technique. When you’d found out and went to rescue your possession Zoro had tried the distraction method but merely said ‘buttons’ which only bewildered you for the briefest of moments before you took back what was yours while it was thankfully still in tact. Yes, there was no way your focus could be shaken when it came to your work…well except when it came to your Captain. Your very oblivious Captain.

You kept telling yourself that it was just a crush, that he didn’t feel that way about you and he was just affectionate and energetic by nature and you were good with that, you really were. The last thing you ever wanted to do was jeopardise the amazing friendship you’d made with Luffy. So you kept your crush to yourself and things continued as normal. The only time things threatened to reveal themselves was at moments like these. The ship was heading into dangerous territory governed by another rival pirate which meant keeping as low a profile as possible and that meant they were depending on you for appropriate disguises.

“Luffy please just stand still.” You lightly begged, watching your Captain excitedly move about your workspace, touching the bolts of different fabrics and flicking through your design book with glee like it was his very first time in the room when in reality you’d lost count how often his presence had been in and out. At your plea he stopped running his fingers through the soft patterned material that had caught his attention and turned to face you with his usual carefree grin. You sighed in relief and slowly reached for your measuring tape while trying to keep your expression as relaxed as possible. This was always the hard part so you just tried to go as quickly as possible. “Shirt off.”

You had no problem seeing any of the other guys shirtless, yeah most of them were impressive but the only one to get you to be a shaking, blushing mess was Luffy. When Luffy’s hands moved to his shirt you dropped your gaze away, mostly out of respect but also because you could already hear your heart slamming against your chest and feel your skin begin to heat. When you heard the fabric of his shirt fall on the ground you looked up, trying to keep your gaze focussed on Luffy’s eyes but you couldn’t help but let it drop for the briefest of moments to peek at his impressive physique. Snapping out of it you instructed quickly. “Arms out.”

You didn’t know whether to laugh or scowl when Luffy grinned and extended his arms out to you as though inviting you in for a hug as opposed to putting his arms outward so you could accurately measure his frame. You knew it wasn’t his intention to fluster you like this, it was just Luffy being Luffy but it made things so much harder to deal with. Resisting the urge to give in to temptation you took hold of Luffy’s wrist and pulled to manoeuvre him correctly. Quickly you stood behind him and began to lift your tape towards him. With every adventure and fight meant Luffy’s body got only more and more defined and it made measuring him a greater struggle.

It was a relief that you managed to make it through most of the process without making too much of an idiot of yourself but by the end of it all you were beet red and trying to look anywhere but the cause. Through it all Luffy was his happy, oblivious self, talking excitedly about the disguise he wanted but when you stepped away he finally took a proper look at you. “Huh? Are you feeling okay?” He asked, leaning in closer and pressing his hand against your head. However that action meant his still bare chest was against you too which only made your condition worse. “You shouldn’t have been working if you’re sick. I’ll go get Chopper, okay?”

“N-no! I’ll be fine!” Your guilt for making him worry managed to pull you back from your inner spiral. “I’m just…too warm! Something cool to drink and I’ll be back to normal.” You reassured only for Luffy to grin and pull you out of your workshop and straight to the kitchen so you could cool down. Finally feeling more yourself and no longer overheating thanks to Luffy sitting back you could focus on the design. “So you never said what colours you wanted for this disguise, Luffy.”

Luffy blinked at you and gave you a look as though you were the oblivious one. “Well as long as it matches you I’ll be happy.”

#one piece #one piece fic #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece imagines #luffy x reader #one piece scenario #one piece fanfiction #monkey d. luffy #luffy #one piece luffy #straw hat luffy #luffy x you #monkey d luffy x you #monkey d luffy x reader

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uglyducklingofthe2000s · 2 months

Note

Heyyyy could i please request and yuki tsunoda x reader where they have a baby girl and its the day after the birth and they yuki helps the reader also recover from the birth :)

A Reason To Smile - Yuki Tsunoda

Summary: Yuki's mood after the Bahrain GP is in need of some serious perking up. Thankfully his girlfriend has the perfect solution.

This isn't really the request because I don't like using the exact same idea just for another driver (though tho know I am guilty of doing it, I try to avoid if I feel like I can bring a similar but better idea). I do apologise if you hate this @piastricodedfr

I always give any children of drivers names in my fics, often quite Western names. But obviously I wanted to give Yuki's child a name that is Japanese and has a pretty meaning.

Baby Tsunoda's name is...Takara meaning treasure or jewel which I feel like suits how Yuki would treat his daughter.

Very maternal!reader

No part 2 requests please

The paddock was actually shocked when Yuki appeared with his 4 month old daughter. Mainly because he'd not told anyone aside from Pierre, who despite his tendency to gossip especially with Charles (who is the reason Pierre knew about Lewis' move to Ferrari before anyone else), but he respected Yuki when it came to not sharing his daughter with the world immediately.

He did get to meet the daughter of the young driver and shared his congratulations with the girlfriend the world didn't know much of either.

Upon appearing with his daughter many of the drivers were congratulating him and sort of coming to see if the whispers that had reached them were true. None of them imagined him to be the next dad in the paddock, actually far from it.

"She's beautiful." Charles comments, having managed to use Pierre as means of confirming the baby's existence and being able to meet Takara. "I could not have imagined you to be a father, Yuki."

"Not when they are almost the same size." Pierre teases earning a grin from y/n while Yuki is too focused on Takara in Charles' hold to have even heard what his old teammate said.

Yuki is a very protective and tentative dad which is actually quite an endearing sight really.

"Hey, I heard there's a new baby in the paddock." Lando states appearing and making no secret of the fact Yuki and his daughter are the talk of the paddock, or one of the talks. There's quite a few things going on. "Yuki...a little baby Yuki?"

"I know 100% him when I did all the work." Y/n jokes then smiling when she feels Yuki's arm come around her waist. Luckily for y/n (and possibly for Yuki) she is shorter than him which means they do look tiny and Takara is definitely a reflection of how small her parents are too. But it only adds to her cuteness.

"Y/n is the best mum." Yuki confirms never missing a chance to praise her.

"Give here, I'm actually a qualified uncle so I'm much more trustworthy." Lando declares taking Takara from Charles' hold much to the Ferrari drivers annoyance since he was quite enjoying getting smiles from the baby girl. "What's her name?"

"Takara." Y/n states making Lando nod as if he's trying to make a mental note.

There's a brief moment of Yuki noticing y/n having a bit of anxiety about so many people with Takara. It's not that she doesn't trust them but y/n has really had months of sort of just either having Takara on her own, with a handful of family members in the comfort of their home or just with Yuki. She's just not used to this setting and trusting so many excited people with her baby, it's unfamiliar territory and she's just...uneasy.

"We do have to go. But I'm glad you all got to meet her." Yuki states and thankfully Lando doesn't hesitate to hand the small baby to her dad.

"Congrats, guys." Lando nods smiling at the couple before they walk off and he looks to Pierre and Charles. "I feel like I upset them."

"No. I think y/n is just...not used to all the attention from so many people." Pierre states since he noticed Yuki's gaze flick to his girlfriend and a sudden concern from the Japanese driver. "He is quite protective over both of them. If he thinks she isn't completely happy then he will get her away."

"We should all probably go." Charles declares feeling satisfied to have not been the one to push y/n over the edge enough that Yuki stepped in.

Y/n has Takara strapped to her in a baby carrier as she watched Yuki prepare for the race. He's already been out for the driver's parade and then ran back to the garage for his quick chats with the team. But ahead of the national anthem he does move to both y/n and Takara and kiss y/n lightly before kissing the top of his sleeping baby's head since with the headphones the loud garage is muted.

"Good luck." Y/n smiles earning a small nod. He never really smiles much right before the race, just getting into the race mindset. Focus and get the race start right.

Yuki is doing a pretty amazing race from the start and y/n really can't hide her pride. Not to mention Takara is awake but seemingly happy to just be bounced a little to keep her quiet.

It's getting towards the end of the race, in the last 10 when the team orders are given mid-battle with Magnussen. Y/n already knows her boyfriend is going to be upset and angry at it, and the reply that comes shows that as well. But even she has to admit him not giving the position to Daniel isn't wise.

It takes another 2 laps and in the end Daniel's tires are too baked for him to make a dent on the Haas and Yuki is actually lapping faster than him on the hard tyres behind.

"Shit." Y/n mutters rubbing her hands over her face before Takara seems to grunt loudly sensing her mum's distress and possibly sensing her dad's bad mood. The baby is very well sensed when it comes to her parents emotions, which is actually why they both try to avoid any conflict between themselves.

Yuki's driving on his in lap makes her grimace too especially at the sound of the mechanics voicing their displeasure about his erratic driving that really risked Daniel.

Y/n leaves the garage knowing there's no point in sticking around in there. She instead heads through the crowds towards the unit. Sticking to the safety of the hospital unit tables outside the front. She's not really enjoying much in the terms of the waiting, but eventually she does decide to hie away inside Yuki's driver room to let Takara out of her confines and feed her.

She sighs watching the interviews and tries to ignore her chest aching because while Daniel is understandably upset himself and Yuki have chosen different methods of approaching and addressing the situation with the media hearing the bickering and voices of team with Yuki.

"Ok, T. I don't think dad is going to be in a very good mood today." Y/n sighs looking Takara who seems fairly content after being fed. At least someone in the family is happy.

By the time Yuki appears he looks like he might punch a wall.

"Yuki..." Y/n mumbles making his head snap in her direction and while he looks like he wants to stay angry. He softens slight seeing Takara beaming at seeing him.

Her gummy smile and the sight of y/n's concern riddled expression makes him feel the need to push his own emotions aside.

"Takara can come to the debrief." Yuki tries but y/n only shakes her head.

"I don't think that debrief is where either of us want her. Especially not if she's being used as a buffer...you know you were in the wrong Yuki." Y/n sighs earning a grumble as he moves to get changed. "But Daniel spent the whole race slower than you and was only faster because you were on hards and he was on softs. That's promising moving forward, they just need to fix the strategy."

Yuki clearly isn't ready to let it go till he's at least spoken to the team in the debrief so y/n gives up and instead waits for him to be dressed before she hands Takara to him.

"Give your daughter a hug and just calm down. She's so happy to see you again."

The team must be leaving it to Yuki to decide when he's ready for the debrief because no one comes to retrieve him. Which does mean that Takara's presence works it's magic and by the time he decides he needs to leave.

"Ok, I will debrief and then we can go get some food." Yuki smiles while she hums and nods for a moment as Yuki places Takara down in the pushchair, gently strapping her in before kissing her on the forehead and then moving to y/n who smiles at him. "I know how lucky I am to have you-both of you, but especially you."

"We are lucky to have each other. Just remember it's a bad weekend and the strategy was their call, not yours." Y/n states then smiling as she leans into a kiss. "But you do need to apologise to Daniel for that in lap, intentional or not. You know you were in the wrong."

Yuki is visibly hesitant to admit his fault but a short nod gives her the reassurance that he will follow through on her suggestion to own up to his actions.

"Go on, I'm going to take Takara out for some air now it's calm down."

Yuki looks back at the baby with a smile before finally kissing y/n and leaving.

"Alright, baby girl. Let's get some fresh air."

Of course she not outside for long before Pierre appears walking up and clearly wanting to chat to her.

"Don't start, he knows what he did." Y/n states immediately while Pierre hums looking amused. "And you are not currently the poster child for playing nicely with your teammate."

"I can't argue with you on that...being a mother quite suits you." Pierre chuckles making her smile before Pierre holds his arms out to take Takara who absolutely adores the frenchman. "Daniel was not happy."

"I know...he is going to apologise. Possibly not mean it, but he will apologise." Y/n sighs then reaching to tidy Takara's hair. "He's trying to be better with his temper. Sick of seeing everyone hold it against him...as if Max wasn't called Mad Max for his temper."

"You're not wrong." Pierre smiles while bouncing the baby a little. "I think him being a dad will help him to stop being so angry on track. It was just not...fair to him today."

"Well...we know they want Daniel to look good ahead of having a chance back in Red Bull." Y/n sighs softly since they've made it no secret that they don't really care to consider Yuki for the seat. "Anyway, give me my baby back and get going. It's bad enough we've ended up staying later. If you want to talk with Yuki, I'm sure he'll be more than happy to talk later or tomorrow."

"Yes, boss. You make sure you're taking care of yourself as much as Yuki and Takara." Pierre instructs as he has the baby girl back to her mum and y/n gives him a mock salute.

Yuki doesn't really talk about the debrief, instead busying himself in helping y/n pack up anything that she's unpacked from the baby bag and making sure they have everything they need before heading back to the hotel.

It's only once they've settled Takara down for the night that y/n collapses herself on top of Yuki who just laughs at her overdramatic attitude.

"Jeddah is going to be good. I love Jeddah." Y/n comments feeling his arms wrap around her tightly. "I do think Takara might be more popular than you."

"Yeah, we have the cutest kid. Makes sense." Yuki mumbles then sighing a little which she knows is a sign that he's about to say something he's not proud of. "I'm sorry you have to...calm me down today. I don't want it to happen again."

"Yuki, I will always be there. To celebrate. To comfort. To calm you down. I'm in it for the long run and no bad mood is scaring me off." Y/n states gently while looking up at Yuki. "Ok?"

"Yes. Ok." Yuki nods quickly looking very much relieved.

Y/n and Yuki might have a baby together but their relationship was fast moving and y/n fell pregnant less than a year into their relationship. Yuki has been fearful of her seeing more of him and being scared off. Today is one of the moments he fears might cost him losing her.

"I'm just glad you've got reasons to smile with Takara."

"You make me smile too...more. You don't cry in the middle of the night and wake me up." Yuki jokes making her huff a laugh before she looks over at the sleeping baby. "I'm glad you two were here today. I know you can't come to every race."

"We'll be at as many as possible." Y/n states quickly. "Takara can't be without you for too long. We both got too used you always being there over the winter. So we'll make it work."

Taglist: @namgification @hiireadstuff @jsjcue @geniusalpaca @itsjustkhaos @llando4norris @kawaiisadoglu

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reiderwriter · 9 months

Text

Margaritas and Mistakes

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Genre: Fluff, suggestive, smut coming in the next part (it's already written it just felt best to post them separately lmao).

Warnings: Suggestive language, dirty talk, some heavy petting and mention of sexual arousal. 18+ MINORS DNI

Summary: On a group night out, you get a little more drunk than you want to, and when Spencer shows up looking like the love of your life and not just your coworker, you realise that the margarita’s are having more of an effect than they should be.

A/N: Welcome back, it's my week off currently so I've been writing a copious amount of smut, so please enjoy this 3.6k word build up to more smut coming soon. Requests are still open, and you can find my masterlist here!

PART TWO!

You truly made all of your worst decisions when under the influence of alcohol. You blamed it on the fact that you really didn’t get the chance to go out all that often now that you were a full time member of the BAU Team. But the job was sometimes rewarding, and considering you’d been working on consultations all week and not a full time case, you were really looking forward to stretching your legs this friday night and getting some much needed relaxation in before you had to stare evil in the eye one more time.

“Girls’ Night Out! No male detectives, partners, Special Supervisory Agents, Unit Chiefs, OR Doctors!” Penelope cheered as you arrived at her apartment that night prior to your eventful outing.

“God I needed this,” Emily sighed, taking a sip of her drink. “I can’t remember the last time I got to kick back with a glass of chardonnay.”

“You sent me a picture of your drink two days ago, and it didn’t exactly look like water,” JJ laughed.

“Ah you see, my dear JJ, that wasn’t kicking back. That was therapy.”

“Honestly, though, it’s going to be good to get out of the house. I swear, the only places I’ve been for the last month have been my apartment and work,” you sigh, downing the last of the drink Penelope had handed you on the way in.

“What happened to that guy you were seeing, Y/N? Was he that bad?”

“Don’t even mention it. He took me back to his place and he didn’t even have a mattress on the floor, wanted us to do it on his couch,” you groan. “The couch that was also housing all of his laundry. And I’m not positive it was even clean laundry.”

You really had been having the absolute worst luck with men recently; other than your aforementioned tinder date, the only men who had shown any interest in you being serial killers who wanted to murder you and married cops looking to fool around with an FBI agent. Not the most auspicious of dating pools.

“Okay, operation get Y/N laid is a go. Ladies, your jobs tonight, should you choose to accept it, is to become the best wing-women this town has ever seen!” Penelope joked, and you found yourself giggling at just the idea, thankful that they were taking the time to try to cheer you up.

“Oh I’m all in. I’m warning you now, Y/N, my wing-woman success rate is pretty high. I’ve helped multiple couples achieve not only orgasm, but also marriage and kids.” Emily boasted.

“Emily, next time you might want to think about the wording of that one,” JJ laughed. “But I’m in too, you could use a little unwinding.”

“Not you too, JJ. You were supposed to be our voice of reason tonight.” You giggle into your cup, feeling the effect of your starter alcohol already.

“Nope. We’re having no responsible adults in our midst tonight. That’s why I’ve already arranged for our favourite Doctor to come and pick us up when the last of us falls tonight. He’s at a screening of some Indie Russian flick until 2am which is probably about perfect for our plans.”

This is the first you’ve heard of Penelope’s plans, but you’re not against it. With a solid escape route, you can let loose as much as you want tonight and know that all of your friends are fully able to have as much fun as possible tonight.

“Well, that’s the plan for us, sweetcheeks. Maybe you’ll get lucky.” Penelope winked at you with a nefariously innocent look on her face. And suddenly you weren’t quite as sure you trusted her…

–X–

After your first margarita at the bar you were still feeling fine. Sure, you were talking a lot louder than you usually did, and if you saw yourself in the mirror you’d probably start giggling instantly at the stupid, semi-permanent grin on your face, but you were feeling so relaxed that it was of no consequence.

You’d moved swiftly from Penelope’s apartment to the nearest downtown bar. It looked pretty seedy to you, and the lighting was so low you could barely make out the faces of your friends in their seats at the same table as you, but you were sure some of that was just the alcohol blurring your vision.

Your hearing though was still in top shape, which was why when Penelope asked her next question, you almost spit the drink out of your mouth, rushing to laugh.

“Okay, fuck, marry, kill, Hotch, Morgan, Reid.” She giggled as she posed the question to her teammates.

“Oh come on now, that’s not fair.” Emily laughed at the question posed.

“You’re right, I don’t know a woman alive that doesn’t want a ride on my chocolate thunder.” Penelope let out a faux dreamy sigh and took another swig of her drink.

“And marrying Reid just seems wrong. He’s like our brother at this point.” JJ points out, just shuddering at the thought.

“So we’re all in agreement? Fuck Morgan, marry Hotch and lovingly bury Reid six foot under?” Emily laughs and the other two nod.

“Nope,” is all you manage to get out before going for another large gulp of your drink.

“Well, well, well, Y/N what would you be doing differently?” Emily snaps her head around to look at you, eager for the juicy details.

“None of you are curious what the doctor is packing?” You reply, almost innocently, unaware of the many plots culminating in the minds of your friends at that very second.

“Not at all. “Nope.” “That’s pretty gross, actually.” They all seem to reply at once, but Penelope pushes another drink into your hand as soon as you’re done and gets ready to launch a counter-attack.

“Are you curious about it?” She leaves it at that, and if you weren’t so drunk, you’d have seen them all lean into you, desperate for your answer and ready to hang off of your every word. "Do you think about you and him… You know?"

“Every night,” you sigh dreamily. And you’re telling the truth. In the recent months, you’d found yourself waking up a little hot and bothered after some rather steamy midnight encounters with the Good Doctor. You’d become close to him over the few months you’d worked with him as a member of the team, but it wasn’t like you’d had a crush on him or anything. It was more like your body had an unconscious appreciation of his body. Or at least for certain parts of his body.

“His fingers are really nice, you know. And they’re big, too. Just makes a girl curious, s’all.” You down the proffered drink, hiding your remaining shame behind the glass.

“No, no, no babycakes, we’re gonna need more details than that if you’re gonna claim that you want to fuck Reid more than Morgan.” Penelope insisted, more forceful now than before.

“And what exactly does every night mean, Y/N? Something you should be telling us?” JJ wiggled her eyebrows at you and you lost it for a few seconds having a giggling fit.

“Okay, okay, it’s just… You’ve seen how he looks, right? And there was that one case three weeks back. He confronted that accomplice, and when he was about to bolt he slammed him against the wall and held him there like he’d barely broken a sweat. And you know how it is, we see Morgan kicking down doors on the daily, so I thought I wouldn’t be that interested in feats of physical strength, but my only thought in that moment was that I’d rather like him to slam…me…against that …wall.” You slowed down your speech at the end, looking up to see what looked to you like the grinning faces of three wolves staring down at their prey.

“And now I need another drink, anyone up for another round?” You squeaked out, changing the topic before any of the others could make their own comments.

–X–

Your second round of margarita’s was probably where things went irreversibly wrong for you. You’d returned to the table with two rounds of shots for all, having queued up four songs on the ancient jukebox you’d seen in the corner, hoping to entice the girls away from conversation, and it had worked.

After you’d bought the first two rounds, JJ had bought you another, and then Emily had splurged on another three, and then Garcia had rounded the hour out with one more shot, this time with sparklers attached.

So by the time you got back to your table and took a much needed swig of a drink that didn’t have to go down all at once, you were feeling well past drunk, to say the least.

But with the free-flowing alcohol came the lack of inhibition, so you really didn’t care. True to their word, the girls had been doing their best to convince you to dance with some of the guys in the bar since you’d gotten up, but truthfully none of them had enticed you.

But now, the night was running out, and the alcohol had you a bit hot and bothered, so when you felt a nice, hard body press up gently against yours, you decided to take advantage of the situation. Without looking back, you wrapped your hand around the one of his that had grazed your hips and held in there, moving your hips back and forth and beginning to grind back into your mystery man.

He was a little bit still at first, but eventually began making some slow movements along with you, and you could see the others cheering for you from a distance, Emily especially whooping from her perch at the bar.

You felt the voice lean down to your ear after a minute or so, and you tilted your neck up to hear the tall man a little better.

“What are you doing, Y/N?” He whispered against your skin, still letting him guide you through the music. Had you been sober, you’d have realised the voice was more than familiar, especially since he’d said your name, but you were not, and so you did not.

“Well, if you’re lucky, tonight I’ll be doing you?” you giggled back, looking up at the man quickly. But with the hazy lights of the bar and the copious amount of alcohol you’ve ingested, you don’t catch a good enough glimpse of the man to realise he’s your coworker.

“I think you’ve had enough to drink,” he says, when you start to pull him towards the bar, his grip on your hips tightening, accidentally pressing you back into what you expect to be his semi-erect cock, straining against your clothing.

“Oh, what, wanna take me home right now? That’s okay with me, mister.” You giggle, grinding back into him more intentionally this time. You grip his hand and try to force it up to touch more of you, utterly carefree about throwing yourself on what you presume to be a stranger in the middle of a bar.

Before you manage to, however, he lets out a frustrated groan and turns you around by your hips, forcing you to look him in the eye for a little bit longer, and all of your senses finally start working once again.

“Yes, Y/N, we’re going now. Penelope called me 15 minutes ago and said you were ready for that ride home and I can see now that she was right,” Reid leant down so you could hear him enough, but your brain was short circuiting.

You’d been grinding on your coworker. The one that had been the cause of so much of your sexual frustration for the past god knows how long. Spencer was right in front of you, and he hadn’t loosened his grip on you that much. Spencer was right in front of you and his erection was poking into you.

Really, your following actions shouldn’t be held against you in the slightest given the situation.

“Are you going to take me home, Doctor? Lay me down in bed and get me nice and comfortable?” you giggled up at the man, now enjoying the way your insinuations were making him blush.

“Y/N, you’re not being fair. We need to get the others and go,” he shot back, irritation dripping from his tone.

“Oh I’m sorry, am I being a bad girl?”

“You’re certainly being very difficult- what are you doing?” He jolted as you moved your hands to his fair, beginning to play with the curls at the nape of his neck.

“It’s softer than I imagined it would be,” you giggled again, pressing yourself forward to press a kiss against his neck.

“Okay, we need to get you home,” he panicked, grabbing both of your hands, pressing them against your sides, spinning you around and walking you back towards the other girls.

“Hello Spencer~” the girls all giggled as you approached. You struggled against his grip a little, but he kept you firmly in place, man-handling you slightly, and you practically melted into his touch.

“Who let Y/N drink this much? Don’t answer that, you’ve all been drinking the same amount, right?” He left out a frustrated breath, and ran one hand through his hair. You attempted to move again, but he’d practically pinned you to the table. Your hips were pressed into the edge of it, his hips pressed against you, forcing you up against the table in a way that should have been uncomfortable. His other hand was resting near your discarded glass, caging you in almost entirely.

“Cars out front, lets go,” he said, his jaw twitching with anger now.

“No need, lover boy, taxis are coming to pick myself, Penelope and JJ up as we speak,” Emily slurred the words, but got the idea across well enough. “You’ll just be needing to take this little kitten home and you’re done for the night.”

They were all giggling now, as you let out a childlike yay, your excitement evident on your face.

“We’ll wait and see you all off together at least, so outside now. She needs some fresh air or something,” he was practically talking to a wall at that point, but after a few repetitions, the women acquiesced and moved outside.

“Ooh, that’s my taxi, gotta go,” Garcia practically runs from you the moment you step outside, and you wave at her whilst wrapped around one of Reid’s arms, stumbling with each step.

“Use protection my sweet babies,” she shouts as she slams the car door just as her car drives away, leaving a spluttering Spencer unable to respond that he’s not touching you tonight while you’re in this state.

The taxis for Emily and JJ arrive swiftly as well, and the two soon depart with similar messages and soon you find yourself alone with Spencer once again.

“So, your place or mine,” you smirk, looking up at him and batting your eyelashes in the sweetest way you can manage.

“You’re drunk, Y/N, you don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Drunk I may be, Doctor, but I absolutely know what I’m saying. I’m saying I want you to shove me against a wall and finger fuck me until I don’t know how to walk anymore.”

“Goddamnit, Y/N, someone’s gonna hear you.”

“Oh you want me to be quiet? If you take my panties off and push them into my mouth maybe you could shut me up for a few minutes.”

“Get in the car, now.” You stick your tongue out at him, but hop into the passenger seat. He slams the door in your face and takes a few deep breaths before moving around and getting in himself.

–X–

Despite having the window open the entire car journey, hoping that the fresh air will do you some good, you’re still on top form when Spencer pulls up to your apartment.

“I didn’t even give you my address,” you pouted, as you tried, unsuccessfully, to remove your seatbelt.

“I memorised your file, now let’s get you into bed,” he unclasps it for you, and you use the close proximity to drop a kiss on his cheek.

“Only if you get into bed with me, hot stuff,” you wink at him and make for the door. “You know, you’re going to remember everything I said in the morning, right?” You asked him.

“Unfortunately, yes,” he muttered under his breath as he caught you just as you were about to teeter into the hedge on the shared green space. You wrapped your arms around his neck for the second time that night and stopped him in his tracks. Looking deep into his eyes, you took one of your hands and traced it gently over the side of his face and down his neck, your eyes following your fingers. He gulped involuntarily when you hit his adams apple, and you snapped your eyes back to him.

“Chances are that I’m probably not going to remember any of this, right?” You smiled up at him.

“Alcohol induced memory blackouts tend to occur in binge-drinkers whose alcohol levels have hit at least 0.16%, and further studies show that 50% of adults will experience some kind of alcohol-related memory loss in their lives, so yes, I’d say you’re probably not going to remember any of this.” He shot back, almost entirely still in anticipation of your next move.

“Good, then I might as well enjoy the moment while it lasts right.” As soon as the words were out of your mouth, your lips crashed into his, and after a beat, his reciprocated, moving over yours just as hungrily. He moved now, walking you back to your door, lips still locked in a ferocious battle for dominance, until he pinched your arm slightly. You gasped a little, ready to pull back and complain about the pain, but suddenly his tongue was in your mouth and you were back at it all over again. He tapped your legs, signalling that he wanted you to jump into his arms, and you did, wrapping your legs around his centre tightly as he finished making his way to your apartment door.

Pulling away for the briefest of moments, he pulled your keys from your back pocket, and made quick work of your door.

“Bedroom, now Spencer, please I need you,” you whimpered in his arms, pressing kisses against his jaw and neck. Unfortunately, he had other ideas.

“No. We are going to the bathroom, where you’re going to wash your makeup off, brush your teeth and change your clothes, and then you are going to get in bed and sleep.” He unceremoniously dropped you at the door of your bathroom, and you slid to the ground.

Pouting up at him, you felt the tears well in your eyes.

“No! I don’t want to go to bed yet,” you sounded like a petulant child and Spencer cursed a little under his breath when he looked down at you.

“Y/N listen to me very clearly, you’re not thinking straight. You’re way past the legal limit, you can’t consent to any of this and I’m not going to sleep with you and then have you forget it in twelve hours.” His tone was harsh, but you listened to him.

Picking yourself up off the floor, you followed his instructions and got yourself ready for bed.

“Okay, I’m all done now, Doctor,” you grumbled once you were done. You half expected him to have left you there, choosing to retreat whilst you cleaned yourself up, knowing that he’d already done what was asked of him by getting you home. But he was still there perched on your bed, and you made one last attempt to get what you wanted.

As he made his way to stand up, you used the last of your strength to push him back down again and climbed into his lap. This time though, you made no attempt to take anything further, just wrapping your arms and legs around him and burrowing into his shoulder. You had to admit, you were getting particularly sleepy now.

You let out a small yawn and burrowed further into his neck just as he opened his mouth.

“Y/N, please, what are you doing?” He sounded tired now, but didn’t attempt to push you off again.

“You said I was probably not going to remember this in the morning. That’s not going to fly with me. So you’re gonna sleep here with me and tell me everything I forgot in the morning.” You informed him.

He scoffed at you, but you could hear the smile in his voice when he replied.

“So you want me to just sleep here next to you? No pushing you against a wall? No panties in your mouth?”

“Nope. Like you said, ‘s getting pretty late and it’s been a long week, so it's probably for the best if we…” You tried to finish but your tongue was so heavy in your mouth that you just couldn’t use it anymore. You felt the warm rumble of his answering laugh of disbelief as he manoeuvred the two of you under the covers, taking the time to kick off his shoes and remove his coat and shirt.

“Sleep well, Y/N, because when you wake up I’m going to make you feel all of the torment you’ve put me through tonight tenfold.”

And he held you there against his chest as both of you fell deeper and deeper into your slumber.

PART TWO

2K notes · View notes

savingcrxws · 9 months

Text

EYES ON FIRE | maybe someday

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synopsis. you and carmen just keep bumping into each other.

word count. 4.3k (gah damn)

warnings. language, hardly proofread again i'm sorry its an addiction

authors note. thank u guys so much for the support in these previous chapters! it’s really amazing to me that u guys enjoyed it so much! i would recommend listening to maybe someday by the cure for this chapter!

“Yeah, Sugar. The appointment is booked for Thursday, the reps will probably be coming in at like…three o’clock,” you mutter, flipping through the manila folder absolutely stuffed with documents and sticky notes.

You pursue your lips at all you had to get done within this week alone–sign installation permit, permit to replace the hot water heater, permit to fix the ventilation systems, reapply for occupancy capacity signs because of the restaurants lack of other permits, and holy shit…

You completely forgot to schedule the follow-up appointment with the BACP consultant.

You groan, slamming the thick folder into your forehead, the papers thwacking against your skull. Natalie sounds startled on the other end of the phone, no doubt hearing the sound on her end of the call. She questions if you’re okay, and you only respond with a gentle hum before tossing the folder back down on the office table.

“Hey, Suge, do you think I can call you back later? I need to schedule a follow-up consultation with Raquel before another rep hops on my ass about the boiler replacement.”

“Of course, hun, call me back whenever you can,” Sugar starts and you can hear some papers flicking in her side of the call as well.

You had managed to convince her to work from home more often, worried that all the stress from the demolition inside would affect her pregnancy and her overall wellbeing. After some back and forth, she had begrudgingly agreed to spend two days working on the project from the comfort of her own couch.

And even though she complains still, you know she appreciates she has a little bit more time off of her feet.

“Don’t work yourself too hard, okay, Bug?”

You nod, even though you know she can’t see you. “Same for you, Bear.” Sugar hums once again before you both give your goodbyes and end the call.

You expel all of the air out of your chest in a large puff as you slide down the office chair.

After signing onto Team Bear, your new home-away-from-home had been this tiny office in the back of the restaurant. For the most part, no one came in and disrupted your work, which allowed you to have your head shoved into piles of paperwork, be stuck on phone calls, and be forced to reread legal jargon for hours on end with little interruption.

Well, as little interruption as there could be with the restaurant quite literally falling apart around you.

Thankfully, everyone was very respectful of your work in helping the developing business. You were practically putting every ounce of knowledge that you learned from both college and the real-world experience (including connections within the industry) to help push the restaurant closer to the deadline. All the while still dealing with your other commitments to other businesses that you had prior to signing on to this project.

Staying at The Bear for eight hours a day had its benefits, though.

For example, there was always something entertaining going on in the background. Like last Tuesday, when Fak had decided to send a sledgehammer directly into the only remaining wall of the office–sending bits and pieces of drywall onto your clothes.

Another benefit of being stuck in that office chair is that you had an excuse to ignore everyone around you. And by everyone, you really mean Carmen.

After the awkward office run-in last week, the two of you hardly spoke to each other. Sure, there was the ‘hellos’ and ‘goodbyes’ that you threw to each other and the words you exchanged when you caught him up on the status of licensing, but you two had yet to have an actual conversation.

It was clear that the both of you were still walking on eggshells around each other—and everyone could see it. But you had an inkling feeling that Carmen had been wanting to say something, judging by the short glances you sometimes catch him throwing in your direction.

Kinda similar to the one that he’s giving you right now.

You feel the heat of his stare on your face before you see it. He’d been staring at you for a couple moments now, long enough for you to no longer consider it an inquisitive glance.

You peek up from the folder and make solid eye contact with Carmen through the hole in the wall. The man flushes almost immediately, the red color sinking past his collar. You purse your lips and give a small nod of acknowledgment and he stutters in his spot.

And then he’s turning away.

Like he wasn’t the one just staring at you a moment ago.

You roll your eyes and turn back to your original position in the seat. Picking the folder up again, you flick to the papers listing the requirements for the next fire suppression test.

“Men,” you mutter, before picking up your phone and making a phone call.

Three days later, the office is completely demolished and your work revolving around The Bear has been moved to a family-owned coffee shop two blocks over.

In the short span of time, all of the walls in the store had been busted down and the restaurant had practically turned into a hazardous wasteland. And since construction was too far out of your pay grade, you decided to leave the heavy lifting up to everyone else.

“Alright, permit done!” You throw your hands up in the air, your theatrics catching the attention of a couple next to you. You could hardly care for the stares, though, you had been working on getting that permit for the past four days straight. Slamming your laptop shut, you pack up your bags and head off to the cash register to buy another coffee before you go.

While you wait for your drink, you decide to scroll aimlessly through your phone to kill some time.

“Oh shit,” you hear a voice utter behind you, and you barely have time to process the word before something ice cold is running down your back. “Fuck, I’m fucking sorry, I didn’t even see you—“

You gasp on reflex, taking a step forward and shivering. The person who spilled their drink on you is stuttering out apologies. The liquid seeps into the jacket you were wearing and you pull it off immediately.

“Yo, what the fuck, dude,” you curse, watching the large stain of coffee spread even farther across your jacket. “Watch where the hell you’re walking—”

In the middle of trying to give the perpetrator a piece of your mind, you failed to recognize the familiar sound of the voice that was spewing apology out of apology. But in a second, your eyes met a recognizable set of blue and you halted your words.

In front of you stands Carmen Berzatto. In his signature colored sweater and a half-spilled cup of coffee in his hand.

And he looks petrified.

It seems he didn’t realize just who was the unlucky victim to his americano attack either until you turned around. His mouth agape, he utters out a jumbled apology, glancing back at you, your stained jacket, and the cup in his hand like his brain was still trying to understand what just happened.

“Uh-uh, fuck, sorry, I swear this wasn’t on purpose,” he rambles, placing his cup on the counter behind you and grabbing some napkins right after. He steps back towards you and shoves his hand of napkins to you. “Here, shit, I’m so sorry.”

You sigh, taking the napkins from him, noting the slight tremor that persisted in his hands as you did so. Taking in a slow breath, you close your eyes and count to ten before responding. “It’s okay, Carmen. Don’t worry about it.”

And even though you tried to maintain your peace, you can hear the annoyance seeping out of your words. Carmen glances around the counter before looking back at you and your soaked jacket. You know he probably wants to apologize some more, but honestly, one more apology might land him with a punch to the gut.

Just as he opens his mouth, you raise your free hand, silencing him immediately. You shake your head in dismissal before taking the napkins offered to you and blotting the coffee out of the fabric of your jacket. Carmen simply stood in his place, watching you, seeing if he could do anything to redeem himself in this situation.

However, after they called your name for your drink order, you dumped the used napkins in the trash, took your drink and hightailed it out of the café without one more word to the man.

After the coffee shop incident, you swear that you started to see Carmen everywhere.

You needed a quiet place to plan outside of your house so you went to one of the local libraries. Guess who’s walking outside the building?

You need a late night snack and decide to hit up the corner store. Guess who’s in the refrigerated section?

Hell, you decide to stay late at The Bear for some last minute checkups? Guess who forgot to grab a few things before leaving that night?

You swear that before you hopped on The Bear train, you never even saw a glimpse of the man. Sure, you lived relatively near the restaurant, but Chicago is fucking huge, there’s no way you would run into one of the few people that you’re trying to avoid.

Absolutely not, apparently.

Finally finishing up the weekly budget report and estimate for the following weeks till open, you decide to take a step away from work for a second and give your brain some time to breath.

“Hey, Syd, if anyone needs me, I’m outside taking a smoke break, ‘kay,” you yell across the restaurant, receiving a thumbs up from her from the other side of the room. “Be back in 15!”

Reaching into your bag, you pull out a pack of cigs and a lighter before heading to the back entrance of the restaurant. You place the cigarette between your lips and head to the backdoor. Stepping out and around the alley to the designated smoke corner, you fiddle with the lighter switch, hearing the light sizzle but seeing no flames emerge.

You groan, flicking the lighter again and again and still no lig–

“Umm, uh, you need a light?”

You scream, your heart almost skipping a beat and falling out on the concrete below you. In your alarm, both your cigarette and the lighter drop on to the ground. "Shit," you mutter and throw a glance over at whoever had scared the living shit out of you and, surprise suprise . . .

There was Carmen, standing in the alley a few feet away from the door. One leg was kicked up to rest his foot against the wall behind him and a cigarette hung loosely between his fingers. His eyes trailed across you for a second, then he glanced at the cigarette on the ground before taking another draw from his own and staring out the wall in front of him.

If you had half of the energy, you would tell him off for scaring the shit out of you and book it out of the enclosed space.

Lucky for Carmen, however, you really needed that cigarette.

Reaching back into your bag once more, you pull out another cig and walk slowly over to the man. Your steps gain his attention once again and when your eyes met you gestured to the lighter hanging out of his cooking apron.

He grabs the lighter and hands it to you. As you reach out to grab it, your fingers brush against his knuckles. Some quick thought in the back of your head wishes that that physical interaction lasted a little longer, but you're quick to shoo that away into the deep recesses of your mind.

Lighting your cigarette, you hand the lighter back to him before taking a drag. Blowing the smoke out, you slid down the wall until you could lean back into a squat against it.

The two of you just stand there, in complete silence aside from the occasional cough from an improper pull. This quiet isn't nearly as awkward as the first run-in the two of you had. Maybe it's because of the nicotine or maybe it's because continuously running into Carmen over these past days had subconsciously made you a little more comfortable with his presence.

. . .

Nah, it definitely had to be the nicotine.

You glance up at Carmen, who continues to smoke even though his stick had turned into a bud a while ago. You make note of the new tattoos that run down his arms and hands, eyes stopping at the rose flower tattoo on his left hand.

You remember when he got that one done with you at the parlor for his eighteenth birthday.

Subconsciously, you rub at the matching rose on your thigh before sighing and focusing back on your cigarette. Young, dumb decisions, you think.

Above you, Carmen watches your focus retreat back and purses his lips. In all honesty, Carmen usually never finishes a whole cigarette, but he really needed an excuse to stay out here longer with you.

These past couple of days had been tormenting him just as much as it had been you, albeit for different reasons. Everytime Carmen ran into you, whether it be in that cafe or that random grocery store that one early morning, he was plagued with memories of everything that he had fucked up.

Not just the relationship that he had fucked, but the happiness that he had stolen from the both of you.

And he had so desperately been trying to apologize, but every time you saw his face, you would get that look on your own. That dread, the anxiousness, that annoyance. That anger.

Whenever he saw that expression on your face, he would get too choked up to say anything of significance. A simple 'hey" would be all that would leave his mouth. Either that or he would stutter like he was a fucking kid again and embarrass himself in front of you like he seems to be doing constantly lately.

Carmen sighs, taking a final hit from his cigarette before stomping it out on the ground. By all previous experience, Carmen would book it out of the area by now, but something in his gut was telling him to stay this time.

Glancing down at you once more, he sees that you have taken to scrolling through your phone to kill the time. He bites the corner of his lip and decides to sit against the wall like you.

Instinctively, you toss him a questioning glance but when he didn't make any move to speak or gesture towards you, you shook your head and went back to whatever video had popped up on your feed.

Fuck it, he thought.

"I'm sorry."

You halt in the middle of your smoke, nearly coughing on the fumes but managing to swallow it. You look over at Carmen inquisitively, wondering where the hell that apology came from. The dirty blonde was wringing his hands, mouth opening and shutting as if he was trying to get the words out.

"Sorry for the, uh," he mutters, casting a quick glance in your direction to assure himself that you were listening. "Sorry for the, for uh-You know I didn't-I don't know how-"

"Yo, Carmen," you interrupt the world vomit that he was spewing, tossing your cigarette down before snuffing out the light with your shoe. You center your focus back on the man next to you, who seemed to only have you in his attention. "Just say what you want to say. No bullshit."

Your blunt words seem to ground Carmen long enough for him to gather his thoughts. He nods his head rapidly in that way he does when he's clearly overwhelmed before he clears his throat. He takes in a large inhale and clears his throat, ready to speak again.

"I want to apologize. For everything. For how much of an jackoff I was back then, and for how much I am right now," Carmen stars, eyes staring solidly into yours to show just how serious he is. "I didn't deserve you, and you did nothing to deserve the way that we ended."

You feel something burn the back of your throat at the mention of the end of your relationship. The total radio silence from him for the days prior, and just when you had managed to gather the courage to ask the question of just what the hell are we doing, Carmy, you were cast aside like nothing.

He was right, you didn’t deserve that.

Pushing back the feelings bubbling up in your chest, you nod your head to signal that you were listening.

"I-I, it's no excuse, but I was really going through some serious shit. And I really felt that if I cut everyone out of my life, I could actually get a second to breathe you know," Carmen pauses and you open your mouth to speak, but he continues. "I-I just know you deserved-you deserve better. But seeing you in this restaurant day-in and day-out, working away to help my sister, my crew--help me? I just felt even more like a piece of shit."

He turns fully towards you now and you can see his eyes turning red from the emotion he was clearly holding behind his words. "You didn't deserve what I did, and you definitely don't deserve to be cleaning up my messes now."

"You deserved the world, and I'm sorry I couldn't give it to you."

His last words send a sharp pang into your chest. Here you two sat, sitting next to each other, the distance between you two seemed to be filled with words unsaid. You stare into his eyes a little longer, at a loss for what to say completely.

On one hand, you wanted to reject his apology, tell him to fuck off and leave him alone in this alleyway. He would deserve it after everything.

But he has that familiar kicked puppy-dog look in his eyes and he's chewed his lip red, and he's actually sorry.

You sigh, leaning your head back to rest against the wall behind you. Staring up at the sky, you trace the shapes of the clouds above as you collect your thoughts.

"Yeah," you start, nodding your head to yourself. Carmen tenses up at the ambiguity behind both your words and your tone. He would have to have his own head shoved up his ass if he didn't realize that you had every right to refuse his plea for forgiveness. Frankly, that's exactly what he was expecting you to do.

"Yeah, okay. I can forgive you, Berzatto."

Carmen's heart sinks into his guts, mouth slightly agape in pure shock. "You-you can?"

You give a small smile, turning your head to face the man. "Yeah, Carmen, I accept your apology."

The dirty blonde opens his mouth again but you put a hand up in the space between you, effectively shutting him up for a second.

"But," you trail, "I'm gonna forward you that dry cleaning bill from that cafe, asshat. I've been trying to get that shit out for days now."

Carmen flushes a bright red at the mention of the coffee shop run-in you two had, a broken chuckle leaving his mouth at the obvious teasing tone in your voice. You were joking with him, for the first time in years, you two had managed to glimpse at the level of comfortability that you once shared.

Carmen chuckles again, running a hand through his curls. "Yeah, well, can I raincheck that until after the restaurant starts making money? I'm kinda flat fucking broke right now."

You giggle at the honesty behind his words. "Yeah, I ran those calculations by the way. Have fun being flat broke for at least three months after The Bear opens."

"Shit," Carmen mutters, a grin still on his face.

"Yeah, shit." You nod in his direction before pushing yourself off your crouched position on the ground. "Anyway, I'm gonna head inside to get back on that shit. Fak's fucking electric guy keeps flaking on us."

Carmen's eyes follow your form as you stand, holding eye contact with you when you glance back down at him. "Yeah, yeah, I should probably meet up with Syd for the chaos menu anyway."

He hurriedly stands up, wiping his hands on his work pants. After he finishes, he looks at you once again, noting the small smile on your face. For a second, he swears his heart skips a beat.

"For the record, Carmy," you play with the nickname on your tongue, having not said it in quite some time. Carmen flushes before nodding for you to continue. The small on your face falls for a second as you look at him. "You pull that shit with me again, I'm sicking the dogs on your ass. Seriously."

Carmen clears his throat, straightening up at the more serious tone of your voice. Although you were not nearly as angry looking at him as before, he knew that you were serious. There were no more apologies after this, no more fuckups.

You look at him expectantly, waiting for some form of acknowledgment.

He nods. "Yes, chef."

After the conversation outside The Bear, you and Carmen seemed to flow together much easier than before. Granted there was the occasional stray glance casted in your direction from the man, but overall, the two of you were on much more agreeable terms.

The rest of the crew seemed to notice the absence of uncertain tension between the two of you. You explained to Tina, Richie, and Sugar that you two had simply talked it out and were no longer on "spiteful ex" terms.

Richie, being the annoying man that he is, insisted that something else must've happened--to which you responded with a firm shoulder check and yet another middle finger.

Overall, the two of you seemed to only talk about business stuff, which made it easier for conversations to flow. Less personal, more concrete talks.

"Alright, Carmy, we got that certificate of occupancy, right?" You question, running down the legal checklist once again. When you heard no response, you asked again, only to be ignored again. Finally looking up from your screen, you glance up at the man, trying to figure out what could have possibly distracted him this time.

He's glancing, moreso glaring, down at his phone, watching it ring but making no moves to pick it up. He's spaced out almost, like he's lost in his thoughts.

You clear your throat and decide to try his name again. "Carmen!"

He shoots up a little and looks at you, muttering an apology out as he clicks his phone off and slides it into his back pocket. "What were you asking?"

"Umm, I was trying to see if you got that certificate of occupancy from Cicero mailed in," you raise an eyebrow at him. "You know, the one we need to get that other big, shiny certificate that shows that we can legal conduct business in the state of Illinois? That certificate?"

"Uhh, yeah, yeah. Mailed it in the other day, yeah."

You squint at his weird responses before shaking your head and diving back into your work. "Well, on another note, I've been speaking with a liason down at the office and he said we can have our second fire suppression test in two weeks instead of the project four."

Carmen walks up to the foldable chair you were sitting in, peering over your shoulder to look at your screen. He rests his hand against the back of your chair unconsciously and you can feel the heat of his body radiating off of him. You clear your throat and lean forward a little to get some distance between the two of you.

"Who's that going to?" The man points to an email that you are in the middle of drafting. Your eyes follow and land on the email you were writing to one of your school buddies. "Oh that? I'm just messaging one of my old classmates from college about an idea I had about our issues with that retail food license thing."

Carmen humms, peeking down at you as you explained the process you were thinking of going through. Though your eyes were stuck on the screen, clicking through different documents as you continued your explanation, Carmen's eyes were glued to your face.

To him, this all felt like some weird dream that he was having. His former high school sweetheart, sitting in his restaurant, talking all kinds of smart talk that he could barely understand, practically pressed against him. Although he didn't move over to your chair with the intent to press against you, he definitely noticed the proximity that you two shared.

Life had been a whirlwind these past weeks, but he felt that when he was near you that a lot of those anxieties he often has screaming in his head quieted down a little. He tried to chalk it up to the confidence that he had in your skills, but even though you are incredibly talented in your work, he knew that it was something more than that.

Something that he had to swallow down.

"Carmy, you motherfucker, are you even listening to me?" You call out, turning more in your chair and fixing him with an annoyed glare. Carmen swallows before nodding his head. "Ye-yeah, you have a plan to get that retail food license and alcohol seller's license at once right?"

You hum, giving him a once over again before turning in your seat. "Exactly. I think that my buddy Stephen can help us with that fire suppression test, he knows a thing or two--"

Carmen's eyes trace down your eyes, nose, and lips, noting the signature bite marks you left on your bottom one. He runs a tongue across his own before carding a hand through his hair to collect himself.

He was so fucked.

taglist: @grippleback-galaxy @chatitajens @rooster-bradshaws @hrrysweetcherry @whoreforbucky @notsochillnerd @jackierose902109 @how2besalty @rosewine-5 @honeybug-victoria @beansap @sincerelyrab @xxconfettiitsaparade @softsy @imafatassmess @bibliophilewednesday @chanluuvr

if you would like to be added to/removed from the taglist, just tell me below! thank you so much for reading!

*if ur @ is striked thru, tumblrs being a pain and not letting tag, imma keep trying tho!!

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto fanfic #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x reader #the bear x reader #the bear season 2 #jeremy allen white x reader #jeremy allen white #carmen berzatto x you #the bear fanfic

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princessbrunette · 14 days

Text

you couldn’t help it. he was your dads favourite friend. yours too.

above all, you felt safe with him — perhaps because he was the youngest of the bunch, it felt there was a more mutual understanding between the two of you. it was no secret that he loved to flirt with you, between offering you trips on his boat to your dad — likely just to get you alone, and the often implications he’d throw into casual conversation when you’d mention another boys name, along the lines of “listen kid you don’t need a boy you need a man. these suckers aren’t gonna satisfy you, can tell you that for free.” as he inhales cigarette smoke, fingers drawn to his lips outside at a work party for your dad that you’d invited yourself to.

he’d pulled up in that expensive car of his that you loved so much after you’d called him, begging him to pick you up. he even gets out the car to open your passenger seat door, taking note of the way you were more tipsy and loose than usual, tits practically falling out your top. “jesus, be careful would you?”

once driving away, you notice him licking his lips, glancing at you as he shakes his head disapprovingly.

“what’s that look for?” you giggle, rubbing at your thighs to warm up. the action makes him clench his jaw, flicking on the cars heating system just a tad — just so you’d stop tempting him. despite all the flirting, he was never quite sure if he could risk going through with it with you. he couldn’t lose this job, not after his own father had cut him off after starting his thirties.

“fuck are you doing out at this time, huh? does — does your dad know?” he blinks obviously at you, glancing away from the road for a second and you notice his hands tighten on the wheel when he sees the way you’re gazing at him.

“no! i’d like to keep it that way. i didn’t tell him ‘cos i didn’t wanna get in trouble. you’re not gonna get me in trouble right, mr cameron?” you lean over the centre console, tilting your head like a sad puppy. his eyes flutter in irritation and arousal, and he tongues at his cheek.

“nah… no… and i already told you to quit callin’ me that shit when i’m not working. it’s rafe.”

“mm, okay rafe. terribly sorry.” you smile to yourself, sitting back in your seat. there’s a short silence, before his curiosity gets the better of him.

“so— so who’s party was this anyway? you hangin’ out with boys?” his eyes slide over to you at the red light, his handsome features illuminated by the red glow.

“what if i was?” you tease and he rolls his eyes, shaking his head and lifting a hand off the steering wheel in exasperation.

“just a question. alright?” he thinks for a moment. “n’i told you already not to do that. trust me — okay — i was that age. it’s bad news for you… m’just tryna help you out here.” he resigns, shrugging.

“maybe you just want me all to yourself.” you walk your fingers along his leg — and this time he actually laughs, but it’s nervous, looking out his window as if to avoid looking at you all together. “wha’s funny? you’re the one always flirting with me.” you bat your eyelashes but he stares straight ahead, eyes hanging low.

“are you wasted?”

you sit back in your seat, arms crossed. “you should be nicer to me you know. i’m your bosses daughter.” your tone is braggy, chin held high with dignity.

“yeah, you’re my bosses daughter. s’exactly why i cannot be too fuckin’ nice to you, okay? can — can you do me a favour here? i’m trying to do the hard thing here and act right. if i did what i really wanted to do you’d probably just go runnin’ off to tell daddy, so… please.” he rants irately, a stiff hand held up between you. you stare at him, your bratty pout transforming in a conniving smile.

“what do you wanna do to me, rafe? ‘said if you did what you really wanted to do… so tell me what you want to do to me.” you lilt, turning your body in your seat which made your skirt hike up a little and your tits press together. he sighs, dropping his head for a moment and scratches his cheek at his slip up before giving you a warning look.

“don’t ask me that shit, okay?”

“i wont tell, i’m really good at keeping secrets.” you smile brightly, and he continues to stare — nearly missing the light turn green.

“that right.” he deadpans and you nod.

“mhm. anyways, funny story — i’ve been getting really good at my stretches. totally unrelated, but you know i can get my knees up by my head now? i’d show you, but there’s not much space here. there’s probably… a lot more space in the backseat.” you lean forward once more, and he continues to stare ahead, driving. “c’mon, rafe. don’t you wanna see? no one has to know.”

“alright, okay — shit. you want it so bad, i’ll give you what you fuckin’ want. jesus— you know, it’s about time you learn to stop teasing grown men, understand me?” he swivels the wheel, briskly pulling into a parking lot nearby and parking the car so haphazardly that you jolt forward when he pulls the brake. “what — are you havin’ second thoughts? huh? no? get in the back before i change my damn mind.”

“okay, rafe.”

“and thats mr cameron to you now, a’ight? go on.”

#divider by gigittamic #okay but dbf!rafe with bratty spoiled ex prom queen cheerleader kook reader !!!! my new fav thing #dbf!rafe #rafe cameron prompt

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sarahscribbles · 5 months

Note

A drabble where you’re trying to focus on a task but Loki can’t keep his hands off you.

fluffy, smutty, whatever inspires you! 🖤

𝐀 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟖𝟖𝟑

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞: 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐃

𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“Loki…I can’t…stop,” you chide, albeit extremely half heartedly.

A deep roll of laughter is your lovers only answer. His warm breath hitting your neck makes you shiver, which only makes him laugh more because he knows your defences are falling down brick by brick.

As they have been for the past few minutes.

The drone of Tony’s medical technology conference continues on the laptop sitting in front of you, but you lost track of the discussion fifteen minutes ago when Loki decided to wrap himself around you. You should be focusing on the panel discussion on the newest advances coming out of Iran - you need to be focusing because Tony will quiz you - but the only thing you can focus on is the warm wetness of Loki’s tongue running along the column of your throat.

“Fuck,” you whimper, balling your hands into fists at the same time your nipples harden. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

“Mmm, you’re too ravishing, my darling. I can’t,” he teases, peppering your throat with gentle little nips.

Almost instantly, your hips begin to rock against your chair. It’s your Achilles heel and he knows it. You swallow another groan when his hands slip beneath the hem of your shirt, inching over your stomach to knead your breasts through the lace of your bra. It feels so good, so blindingly good, that Tony quizzing you on the newest breakthrough in genetic engineering suddenly feels so very unimportant.

“How much longer are you being forced to endure this, dove?” Loki murmurs, sinking his teeth into your earlobe.

“An hour,” you tell him vaguely, letting your head fall back on the chair as he dips his fingers into your bra to toy with your nipples. “God, you’re such a menace.”

He laughs quietly, but then unfolds himself from around you. You fight the childish urge to whine, but turn to look at him with betrayal etched across your face. “Hey!”

Loki gives you that winning smile, the one that still makes your heart leap, and pushes a stray lock of hair back behind your ear. “Relax. I’m not going anywhere,” he assures you, and you breathe out a quiet “oh” when he falls to his knees and moves beneath the table. “Why don’t you let me make this a little more satisfying for you, dove?”

His palms fall on your knees and push your thighs apart, and with a casual flick of his wrist, your leggings and underwear are no longer an issue.

“Yes! Please, Loki!” you plead. You’re thrumming for him, and the searing burn of arousal is already flowing through your blood. You can never get enough of this man.

His answering smirk is wicked. “As you wish,” he purrs.

He licks a long, slow stripe along the length of your aching cunt, savouring the taste of you on his tongue. The groan that tumbles from you is close to animalistic and you barely register how your hands are gripping the sides of your chair like a vice.

Loki’s tongue is as skilled as it is sinful, and in no time he’s lapping at all the right spots that have waves of pleasure begin to roll blissfully over you. It’s as though someone has taken a match to a string, and when you glance down to see Loki’s head bobbing between your thighs and his fingers curled around your knees, that string only burns more swiftly.

He’s like a man starved and with each roll of your hips, he only pulls you closer to his mouth, ensuring no part of you is neglected or forgotten. All you know - all you ever know with this man - is bliss.

Never has someone been so attentive to your pleasure, or wanted to drown you in it as often as they can. He’s everything you ever wished for wrapped up in one beautiful man, and God knows you thank the universe for him every single day.

Though, today, you’re maybe thanking it a little more for his tongue.

Each swipe of it sends another wave of pleasure rippling through you, and when he decides to solely lavish your clit, your hand shoots to his hair with a string of colorful curses.

“That! Keep doing that! Please!” you beg him, knowing that you’re seconds away from soaring off the edge.

Loki hums against you and swirls his tongue firmly over your clit. Once…twice…three times is all it takes for your orgasm to explode through you. It’s blinding and so forceful that the entire Milky Way explodes behind your eyes. You howl Loki’s name, you curse and writhe in your chair as pleasure rips through every inch and fibre of your being.

Loki’s tongue doesn’t let up for even a second, guiding you skillfully through your climax.

It’s intoxicating, he’s intoxicating, and when you finally come down from your high all fuzzy brained and glassy eyed, he’s gazing back up at you with a proud little smirk on his face.

“I never tire of seeing you unravel, my darling,” he says, tracing little circles on the insides of your knees with his thumbs. “Though, I do wonder how many times I can make you do it before the hour is up.”

You don’t object as he buries his face back between your thighs.

#loki #loki smut #loki x reader #loki fanfiction

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flametrashira · 3 months

Text

L Lawliet x Boobs

NSFW. Fem!reader

So, we'll start out with the elephant in the room: this man's oral fixation is on a whole other level. He's either eating, consuming massive amounts of sugar to keep his brain running, or he's touching his lips in some way.

It's subconsciously soothing, it helps him think, stops him from getting stressed.

And when he's alone with you, you have much the same effect on him. So... logically, he combined the two things. He's efficient like that after all.

L doesn't sleep much, but he does need to wind down every now and again, and his favorite way to do that is to lie in your arms and suck on your breasts.

Sometimes he's very slow and languid with it, his tongue heavy, slowly circling around and around your nipples and areola. Other times he's a little more insistent, tugging your nipples between his lips, flicking them with his tongue.

It took him a long time to get comfortable with the idea of such an intimate gesture, but once he discovered it he found his brain was unusually quiet. It's nice. And he likes that it makes you feel good too.

And sometimes he'll try to fit as much of them into his mouth as he can, groaning at the sensation of his mouth being stuffed with you.

For someone so cerebral it is pretty easy to activate the caveman part of his brain. He enjoys the way your tits look when they're all swollen and covered in his saliva.

He's a noisy eater. He'll moan and groan and hum to himself while he's getting your nipples all slippery and hard.

And... speaking of hard, he often is during this. Sometimes he'll start rocking his hips against your thigh as he sucks your tits, others he'll want to indulge in a little mutual masturbation, his long fingers teasing your clit while you stroke his cock.

Sex always begins and ends with him mouthing your nipples. It's his favorite form of foreplay. He sucks them when he cums, his tongue absolutely frantic, lapping at you nipples ravenously as he clumsily thrusts into you, hoarse moans of pleasure muffled against your breasts.

He thought it was very sweet of you to let him eat whipped cream off your boobs too.

"Ohhh! I get it. You're a cake... I do love cake..."

But sometimes he just likes the comfort of sucking your tits without the expectation of sex. His brain shuts down and he goes into a blissful, almost trance-like state.

He'll curl up beside you, knees between his chest and your tummy, his face buried in your chest.

You're soft and warm

You're comforting, you understand him, you accept him for who he is

He's very safe and relaxed around you.

Sometimes he'll even start talking to you, forgetting his mouth his full. He's very cute.

"Ah hank ooh hod hoh..."

"L, love, I can't understand you."

He looks up at you with those enormous dark eyes and smiles. "I said, I think you should know, this is the happiest I've ever been."

He likes when you run your fingers through his hair or stroke his back. Every once in a while he'll fall asleep like that, and you're more than happy to let him since it has to be better for him than sleeping crouched in a chair.

Tagging: @bugs1nmybrain

#l death note #l lawliet x reader #l lawliet smut #l smut #L death note smut #l x f!reader #l x reader #l x you #l x y/n #l headcanons #l lawliet x y/n #l lawliet x you #l lawliet #death note smut

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eideticallys · 11 months

Text

I Don't Mind If It's You

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: maybe styling spencer’s hair should be an everyday thing for both of you.

genre: fluff

word count: 1081

author's notes: i missed spencer's long hair so i decided to write a self-indulging fic about playing with his hair. also posted on ao3 (spencereids).

SPENCER HAS ALWAYS FOREGONE STYLING HIS HAIR IN THE MORNINGS. He always thought as long as he could just flick the strands of hair behind his ear, he was good to go. And besides, he had a hair tie with him. He could just simply tie it back—no more pesky hair in his line of sight.

He has always foregone styling his hair in the mornings until he met you. While he was big on practicality & “Hairstyling is a waste of time”!” You were the exact opposite.

It’s quite a funny thing to think about. Spencer, a certified germaphobe, was uncaring about how his hair looked, whether it was kept well today or it looked like a bird’s nest the next. And then, there’s you. You’re not a germaphobe though you pride yourself as a chic woman. Not a law enforcement job could stop you from looking like you came straight out of a magazine.

You always found the time to make sure your hair looked pretty and presentable before heading to work. In your free time—quite rare for FBI agents—you liked to read magazines for trendy new styles to try or watch videos online for tutorials.

And today was definitely your lucky day. No case. Everyone is off for the holidays.

Unfortunately, that’s where your luck ended.

You got injured during your last case. Your arm is in a cast, unable to move it around like you wanted it to. Fortunately, your hand was still good & thankfully, uninjured, unlike the rest of your arm. So, although you were free to lounge around your home, you couldn’t try that one hairstyle you found in one of those Cosmopolitan articles.

Until a genius idea came to you like a light bulb turning on.

“Hey, Spence?”

You asked your boyfriend, who was busy skimming through what seemed like his third or fourth book of the day.

He’s so cute when he’s all focused like this, you thought.

He hummed in response, still couldn’t tear his eyes away from the pages.

“I have a favor to ask you.”

This made Spencer look up from what he was reading, staring at you questioningly. You were the type of person who never asked for help or favors—unless needed. You often disagreed with him because he would prefer it if you told him whatever problem you had. Although he was a genius and could help with you, he knew lending an ear to someone was already a big help.

"You know I can't move my arm around, right?" You asked him, to which he nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, is it itchy?” He asked, about to go off on one of his notable tangents. “It takes around six to eight weeks for broken bones in casts to heal. Also, around that time, the injured area starts to itch.”

You nodded fondly at the man, not minding a little bit that he went off-topic. You love listening to his mini-lectures—not only do you learn something new, but you’d also hear the soft tone of his voice. One thing about Spencer is he had a pretty voice. You could listen to him talk for hours.

“There are five main reasons why your casts itch—nerves, trapped moisture, immune response, dead skin cells, and body hair.” Spencer continued tattling. “Nerves cause itchiness because the nerve endings in the skin may fire as the cast begins to harden and dry, sending itch-inducing signals to the brain. As for the itchiness being an immune response, it ensues when the body perceives the plaster of Paris or fiberglass as an outside invader. Histamines may be released. Itching, redness, and swelling can be brought on by released histamine.”

With his excitement to share facts about how broken bones heal, you couldn’t help but laugh at how dorky but adorable your boyfriend was, which made him scrunch his nose.

“I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

“You are, but I don’t mind. I like it.”

At this, Spencer’s ears started turning pink, making you chuckle some more. He scratched the back of his neck in shyness as you took it as a clue to tell him what you needed from him.

“My arm isn’t itchy, babe,” you began, “What I need from you is your hair.”

“My what?”

“Your hair.”

It was your turn to get shy. You knew Spencer wasn’t a big fan of having his hair messed with. It’s not that he hates it. He just doesn’t like messing with it that much—minus the occasional flicking behind his ear and simply tying it back when it gets irritating.

“I—um,” you explained further, trying to fight against the embarrassment you were feeling. This was your boyfriend you’re talking to! “I saw this cute new hairstyle online and I wanted to try it but you know, with the broken arm and all…” You trailed off.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” You chuckled humorlessly, beyond embarrassed at this point.

This was such a bad idea. Why did you even bring it up? You were about to start berating yourself, ready to hop onto the next train and create a new identity for yourself, when you noticed Spencer shuffling towards you, sitting on the floor between your legs.

“You want me to style your hair?” You asked incredulously, still can’t believe Spencer would let you play with his hair.

“Of course.” He replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world

Like it was an everyday thing for anyone—you—to do his hair.

“I don’t mind my hair being played with if it’s you.”

At that, you blushed as you started combing through his soft curls with your fingers. Spencer merely smiled softly at the gesture and closed his eyes.

“Y/N?” Spencer asked quietly.

“Yeah?” You asked back as you started braiding his hair. “What is it, Spence?”

“I love you.” He muttered. “I may not like it when people touch my hair out of nowhere. But if it’s you, I don’t mind having you do it for the rest of my life.”

You gasped at his sudden confession and were about to say those three words back when you felt it.

Spencer planted a kiss on your injured arm and pulled your other one down, so he could be face-to-face with you. And before you knew it, his lips brushed against yours, eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks.

Maybe styling Spencer’s hair should be an everyday thing for both of you.

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leclerced · 6 months

Text

good morning | mv1

summary: Max's flight is delayed so he gets home in the middle of the night and wakes his girlfriend up for some fun after being apart for two months.

warnings: somnophilia. rough, unprotected sex. do not read if you are under 18+ this is not meant for you.

author's note: i think about this all the time, but i haven't written about this because i didn't think many people were into it? i dunno, maybe you'll like it.

Max was almost disappointed to find his girlfriend asleep when he arrived home from his late flight, he hadn’t asked her to wait up, but he could tell by the lingerie on her body she planned on it. He quietly stashed his bag in the closet and took his shirt and shoes off as he crawled on the bed as nimbly as possible to avoid jostling her. His hands found her thighs instinctively and his fingers trailed up her skin until they met the orange lace. She hated the color, had obviously bought it specifically for tonight, so he didn’t feel bad as he gripped the fabric and ripped. It tore easily, and he let it fall around her to reveal her dripping cunt. The sight in front of him pleased him greatly, and he parted her thighs then settled on his stomach between them.

Max went right in, licking from her hole to her clit to lap up the wetness she had accumulated in the hours she had been waiting for him. Despite having a private jet, he couldn’t control the weather and they were delayed when it started storming in Monaco. She had been texting him weather updates as the time passed, as it started drizzling, then raining, then full on storming. He wasn’t surprised she had fallen asleep, a storm was like a lullaby for her, as soon as it started thundering her eyes would glaze over and the yawning would start. He licked at her a few more times, eyes locked on her face to watch for a reaction.

She was having a weird dream. It started off at a shopping mall full of grocery stores with one store for every item she needed, and she had to go through the entire store to find the brand she liked. It went on for infinity, just one long endless hallway full of infinite single product stores. Then, suddenly, Max was calling her begging her to come home and she was stuck in traffic trying to get to him as he detailed all the things he wanted to do to her when she got home. She could feel the heat growing between her thighs, and she was aching to reach down to touch herself as she could hear the sound as he stroked his own cock and moaned between describing his fantasies to her.

She was hot all over, sweat forming on her back and she reached to turn off the heater and she suddenly jolted awake just as she turned the knob. A moan immediately left her lips and the sudden dream change made sense as she felt the familiar feeling of her boyfriend's mouth between her legs. She gasped his name as her hands drifted between her thighs to tangle in the head of hair between them. She couldn’t bring herself to open her eyes and look down, scared she would wake up again and be all alone this time.

Max moaned between her legs, and her legs twitched around his lead as he sucked at her clit. He pulled away for a moment to mutter, good morning before he wrapped his lips around her clit again. Now that she was finally awake, he focused on making her cum on his tongue. The tugs on his hair were motivating as he sucked and flicked at her clit, the whines and moans that fell from her lips made his cock twitch and leak in his sweats and he suddenly felt dizzy at the thought of fucking her after months of waiting.

She felt the all too familiar knot tighten in her stomach as he eased two fingers inside of her and curled them. She loved waking up like this, it didn’t happen often, just when he had been gone for too long and she fell asleep during his flight home. She briefly wondered what time it was, when the weather had cleared up enough for his flight to depart, but the thought immediately left her when his fingers curled into her gspot again and rubbed against the spot and she came moaning his name.

He crawled up her body and kissed her as his fingers worked her through her orgasm. She could taste him on his mouth, feel her juices on his lips and chin as they kissed, and it made her stomach twist as he licked into her mouth. As soon as the peak of her orgasm faded, a satisfied sigh left her lips and her hands left his hair in favor of exploring his body, one hand immediately sought out the waistband of his pants to push them off. Luckily, he had worn sweatpants for comfort on the flight instead of his ridiculous skinny jeans, and they easily slipped from his hips. She whined into his mouth when he pulled his fingers from her cunt and broke the kiss, her body followed his momentarily before dropping limply back into the duvet. The complaint vanished at the tip of her tongue as he removed his pants fully and stroked his cock with the hand that was still wet with her orgasm. The sight in front of her was worthy of being admired for a lifetime, she thought. He stroked himself a few more times before he grabbed her hips with both hands and flipped her over.

She giggled in shock at the sudden movement as Max man handled her. She thought he was going to have her on her hands and knees, or at least knees, but he seemed to have different plans as he shuffled them around the bed until he was satisfied. He held her hips up with a firm hand on one hip as he stacked two pillows underneath before he gently pushed her forward with the hand on her hip and patted her left butt cheek lovingly with the other. “Now I don’t have to hold you up while I fuck you stupid.” Her breath hitched in her throat at his words, despite the teasing voice he said it in, she knew he wasn't joking as he lined up with her entrance.

Max gave her no time to adjust as he snapped his hips into her, and she immediately found herself biting the duvet to quiet her moans as her body shifted forward with the force. He noticed her muffled moans as soon as she buried her face in the covers and reached forward to grasp her hair and pulled her head back sharply. “Don’t,” was all he said before he released her and dropped her face back to the bed, and she pressed her cheek into the covers, sleepy eyes looking back at him as she followed his order. The roughness in his voice made her clench around him and he grinned as she moaned his name loudly. He grinned, "That's it, schatje, let everyone know whose making you feel this good." She was so sensitive from her orgasm moments before and she could feel the second one burning in her lower stomach at his words, she couldn't stop moaning to retort as much as she wanted to.

She could barely breathe with the intensity of his pace, she couldn’t stop the moans falling from her lips as he fucked her true to his words. His grip on her hips was tight, she knew she would be bruised tomorrow, and depending on how long he fucked her in this position, she imagined there would be bruises where his hips were slapping into hers harshly and the thought sent a shiver up her spine. She wished he would flip her over so she could touch him, she couldn’t reach him like this and was left to grip the sheets as she moaned into them. The load moans had shifted into breathy ah-ahs as she gasped for air between moans.

Max could feel her clenching around him, her second orgasm around the corner and he suddenly stopped, pressing his cock all the way into her as he pressed his chest to her back. His left hand left her hip to grip her chin, "Open." Her eyes fluttered shut before she her lips parted and she stuck her tongue out for him. He spit into her waiting mouth and she immediately pulled her tongue back in and swallowed, and he pressed himself closer so he could press his lips to hers in a chaste kiss before he righted himself and went back to fucking her with no warning. "God, you're so fucking good to me, schatje, taking me so well." He watched as her eyes flew open and her mouth widened in a silent moan, then he felt her cumming around his cock and he nearly came from the shock of it, but clenched his jaw and fucked her through it.

Max didn't slow his movements as she whined and pulled her arms up under her head and buried her face in them. He could feel the oversensitivity coursing through her body, see it in the way she arched her back and tried to pull away from him even as his grip held her in place. Her voice sounded broken as she gasped, "I can't, Maxie." It sounded like she tried to say something else, but it was cut off by a moan.

His left hand rubbed lovingly at her hip as he slowly his pace and asked,"You really can't, or it feels so good you can't take it? I think you can take it like the good girl I know you are." She whined and didn't reply, so he rephrased the question, "Can you be good for me? Come with me one more time, schatje?" He's sure he would have cum just then if he hadn't stopped his bruising pace as she whimpered, "I can be good." He grinned and slid a hand up to unclasp her bra, and she immediately lifted herself with what little energy she had to pull it completely off her arms and toss it to the side before collapsing back on the bed. His hand traced her ribcage around to her chest until it found her breast, squeezing the flesh before he pinched and twisted at her nipple. It earned a whimper from her lips and her cunt fluttered around him, and he felt his cock twitch inside of her.

He kept his slow steady pace as he tried to calm himself until didn't feel like he was going to burst inside of her in a moments notice. He didn't want to be done yet, he knew he wouldn't have anything left in him once he came, he already felt like collapsing on top of her without finishing, but he hadn't touched her in nearly two months and he was catching up on lost time. If his flight hadn't been delayed, they could have gone at it for hours before either of them were this tired. The slow pace let her recover from her back to back orgasms and catch her breath, and she enjoyed the teasing way his head would catch on her entrance when he nearly pulled all the way out before sliding back in. She hadn't even done anything but lay there and take it, and her body was already feeling a bit sore, she could feel every muscle and nerve ending in her body. Everything felt amazing right now, in the moment, but she knew when she woke up tomorrow her body would regret it.

Max admired her as he slowly rolled his hips into her, eyes trailing from where their bodies met all the way up to where her hair was clumping together with the sweat on her back and he reached forward to gather the locks in one of his hands and brush it to one side so he could kiss the open expanse of her shoulders. She sighed at the feeling of his lips on her hot skin and tilted her head to the side expectantly. His lips found hers immediately despite the awkward angle and they shared a slow languid kiss until he pulled back and kissed her shoulder again, "Ready?" She nodded mutely and he peeled back from her, slowly building back up to the pace he had set earlier. Neither of them were going to last much longer, she was clenching around him with every thrust and he was fighting off his orgasm with every move he made. Max reveled in the whimpers and moans that fell from her lips as she pressed her face into the crook of her elbow. HHe moaned her name as she clenched around him, "Fuck, that feels so good, pretty. Gonna make me cum in you if you keep that up." He heard her say something between moans, but couldn't make it out. "What's that?"

She twisted her head back and pouted at him, "Please?" She blinked prettily as he grinned at the way her voice cracked as she begged, her cunt fluttering around him as she teetered on the edge of her third orgasm. The single word felt like a punch to the gut, and he squeezed her hip as he said, "Make me cum then, angel. Cum all over my cock." She whimpered and buried her face into her arms again as the tension in her body released and she came around him for a third time, and the feel of her clenching around him had him stilling inside her as the shock of his orgasm hit him and he nealry shouted her name. He let himself collapse on top of her, sloppily kissing her back as he panted against her skin. He didn't want to move away from her, loving the way she continued to clench around him even after his orgasm had faded, but he knew she couldn't be comfortable under his weight, especially after he just wrecked her the way he did.

Max felt bad as he pulled away and she whined as his cock left her. He sat back on his knees and watched his cum drip out of her, and didn;t even think as he leaned down and licked it up. She squealed and rolled away, nearly kicking him in the process and he jerked away laughing. She grabbed a pillow and hit him, "I'm too sensitive for that."

He groaned as he grabbed the pillow from her and crawled on top of her, "Tomorrow then?"

She pushed him away as he leaned down for a kiss, "You're disgusting. Go get me a rag like a normal man, you freak."

Max laughed again as he retreated to the bathroom and wetted a rag with hot water. He threw it at her as he walked to the closet and pulled out a clean blanket and teased, "You know you love it." She didn't bother denying it, they both knew it was true despite her previous claims. Max turned and watched as she finished wiping herself up, then tossed the two soiled pillows he had fucked her on and the duvet off the bed, his cum had dripped out of her while she sat waiting, and she wasn't going to sleep on something soaked in cum. He had known she would do both, and he shook out the new blanket on the bed before joining her under it.

#i don't know what got into me that made me write this #i didn't proofread it.#max verstappen #max verstappen smut #mv1 #mv1 imagine #mv1 smut #f1 #f1 smut #f1 imagine #max verstappen imagine

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